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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/14049-0.txt b/14049-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6d85fdf --- /dev/null +++ b/14049-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7767 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14049 *** + +THE POINTING MAN + +_A Burmese Mystery_ + +BY MARJORIE DOUIE + +NEW YORK +E.P. DUTTON & COMPANY +1920 + + + + +CONTENTS + +I + +IN WHICH THE DESTINY THAT PLAYS WITH MEN MOVES THE PIECES ON THE +BOARD + +II + +TELLS THE STORY OF A LOSS, AND HOW IT AFFECTED THE REV. FRANCIS +HEATH + +III + +INDICATES A STANDPOINT COMMONLY SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT THE +PRINCIPLES OF THE JESUIT FATHERS + +IV + +INTRODUCES THE READER TO MRS. WILDER IN A SECRETIVE MOOD + +V + +CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, FINDS THAT HIS MEMORY IS NOT TO BE +TRUSTED + +VI + +TELLS HOW ATKINS EXPLAINS FACTS BY PEOPLE AND NOT PEOPLE BY +FACTS, AND HOW HARTLEY, HEAD OF THE POLICE, SMELLS THE SCENT OF +APPLE ORCHARDS GROWING IN A FOOL'S PARADISE + +VII + +FINDS THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH READING GEORGE HERBERT'S POEMS, AND +LEAVES HIM PLEDGED TO A POSSIBLY COMPROMISING SILENCE + +VIII + +SHOWS HOW THE CLOAK OF DARKNESS OF ONE NIGHT HIDES MANY +EMOTIONS, AND MRS. WILDER IS FRANKLY INQUISITIVE + +IX + +MRS. WILDER IS PRESENTED IN A MELTING MOOD, AND DRAYCOTT WILDER +IS FORCED TO RECALL THE LINES COMMENCING "A FOOL THERE WAS" + +X + +IN WHICH CRAVEN JOICEY IS OVERCOME BY A SUDDEN INDISPOSITION, +AND HARTLEY, WITHOUT LOOKING FOR HIM, FINDS THE MAN HE WANTED + +XI + +SHOWS HOW THE "WHISPER FROM THE DAWN OF LIFE" ENABLES CORYNDON +TO TAKE THE DRIFTING THREADS BETWEEN HIS FINGERS + +XII + +SHOWS HOW A MAN MAY CLIMB A HUNDRED STEPS INTO A PASSIONLESS +PEACE, AND RETURN AGAIN TO A WORLD OF SMALL TORMENTS + +XIII + +PUTS FORWARD THE FACT THAT A SUDDEN FRIENDSHIP NEED NOT BE BASED +UPON A SUDDEN LIKING; AND PASSES THE NIGHT UNTIL DAWN REVEALS A +SHAMEFUL SECRET + +XIV + +TELLS HOW SHIRAZ, THE PUNJABI, ADMITTED THE FRAILTIES OF +ORDINARY HUMANITY, AND HOW CORYNDON ATTENDED AFTERNOON SERVICE, +AND CONSIDERED THE VEXED QUESTION OF TEMPERAMENT + +XV + +IN WHICH THE FURTHERING OF A STRANGE COMRADESHIP IS CONTINUED, +AND A BEGGAR FROM AMRITZAR CRIES IN THE STREETS OF MANGADONE + +XVI + +IN WHICH LEH SHIN IS BREATHED UPON BY A JOSS AND EXPERIENCES THE +TERROR OF A MAN WHO TOUCHES THE VEIL BEHIND WHICH THE IMMORTALS +DWELL + +XVII + +TELLS HOW CORYNDON LEARNS FROM THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH WHAT THE +REV. FRANCIS HEATH NEVER TOLD HIM + +XVIII + +THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH UNLOCKS HIS DOOR AND SHOWS WHAT LIES +BEHIND + +XIX + +IN WHICH LEH SHIN WHISPERS A STORY INTO THE EAR OF SHIRAZ, THE +PUNJABI; THE BURDEN OF WHICH IS: "HAVE I FOUND THEE, O MINE +ENEMY?" + +XX + +CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, IS FACED BY A MAN WITH A WHIP IN HIS +HAND, AND CORYNDON FINDS A CLUE + +XXI + +DEMONSTRATES THE PERSUASIVE POWER OF A KNIFE EDGE, AND TELLS A +STORY OF A GOLD LACQUER BOWL + +XXII + +IN WHICH CORYNDON HOLDS THE LAST THREAD AND DRAWS IT TIGHT + +XXIII + +DEMONSTRATES THE TRUTH OF THE AXIOM THAT "THE UNEXPECTED ALWAYS +HAPPENS" + +XXIV + +IN WHICH A WOODEN IMAGE POINTS FOR THE LAST TIME + +GLOSSARY + + + + +THE POINTING MAN + +I + +IN WHICH THE DESTINY THAT PLAYS WITH MEN MOVES THE PIECES ON THE BOARD + + +Dust lay thick along the road that led through the very heart of the +native quarter of Mangadone; dust raised into a misty haze which hung in +the air and actually introduced a light undernote of red into the +effect. Dust, which covered the bare feet of the coolies, the velvet +slippers of the Burmese, which encroached everywhere and no one +regarded, for presently, just at sundown, shouting watermen, carrying +large bamboo vessels with great spouts, would come running along the +road, casting the splashing water on all sides, and reduce the dry +powder to temporary mud. + +The main street of the huge bazaar in Mangadone was as busy a +thoroughfare as any crowded lane of the city of London, and it blazed +with colour and life as the evening air grew cool. There were shops +where baskets were sold, shops apparently devoted only to the sale of +mirrors, shops where tailors sat on the ground and worked at sewing +machines; sweet stalls, food stalls, cafés, flanked by dusty tubs of +plants and crowded with customers, who reclined on sofas and chairs set +right into the street itself. Nearer the river end of the street, the +shops were more important, and business offices announced themselves on +large placards inscribed in English, and in curling Burmese characters +like small worms hooping and arching themselves, and again in thick +black letters which resembled tea leaves formed into the picturesque +design of Chinese writing, for Mangadone was one of the most +cosmopolitan ports of the East, and stood high in the commercial world +as a place for trade. + +Along the street a motley of colour took itself like a sea of shades and +tints. Green, crimson, lemon yellow, lapis-lazuli, royal purple, +intermingled with the naked brown bodies of coolies clad only in +loin-cloths, for every race and class emerged just before sunset. Rich +Burmen clad in yards of stiff, rustling silk jostled the lean, spare +Chinamen and the Madrassis who came to Mangadone to make money out of +the indolence of the natives of a place who cared to do little but smoke +and laugh. Poor Burmen in red and yellow cottons, as content with life +as their wealthy brethren, loitered and smoked with the little +white-coated women with flower-decked heads, and they all flowed on with +the tide and filled the air with a perpetual babel of sound. + +The great, high houses on either side of the street were dilapidated and +gaunt, let out for the most part in flats and tenements. Screaming +children swarmed naked and entirely unconcerned upon every landing, and +out on the verandas that gave publicity to the way of life in the +native quarter. Sometimes a rag of curtain covered the entrances to the +houses, but just as often it did not. Women washed the big brass and +earthenware pots, cooked the food, and played with the children in the +smoky darkness, or sat to watch the evening show of the street. + +At one corner of the upper end of the street was a curio and china shop +owned by a stout and wealthy Burman, Mhtoon Pah. The shop was one of the +features of the place, and no globe-trotting tourist could pass through +Mangadone without buying a set of tea-cups, a dancing devil, a carpet, +or a Burmese gong, from Mhtoon Pah. A strange-looking effigy in tight +breeches, with pointing yellow hands and a smiling yellow face, stood +outside the shop, eternally asking people in wooden, dumb show, to go in +and be robbed by the proprietor. He had stood there and pointed for so +long that the green glaze of his coat was sun-blistered, but he +invariably drew the attention of passing tourists, and acted as a +sign-board. He pointed at a small door up a flight of steps, and behind +the small door was a dark shop, smelling of sandal-wood and cassia, and +strong with the burning fumes of joss-sticks. Innumerable cardboard +boxes full of Japanese dolls, full of glass bracelets of all colours, +full of ivory figures, and full of amber and jade ornaments, were piled +in the shelves. Silver bands, embossed in relief with the history of the +Gaudama--the Lord Buddha--stood under glass protection, and everything +that the heart of the touring American or Britisher could desire was to +be had, at a price, in the curio shop of Mhtoon Pah. Umbrellas of all +colours from Bussan; silk from Shantung; carpets from Mirzapore; silver +peacocks, Japanese embroideries, shell-trimmed bags from Shan and +Cochin, all were there; and the wealth of Mhtoon Pah was great. + +Everybody knew the curio dealer: he had beguiled and swindled each new +arrival in Mangadone, and his personality helped to make him a very +definite figure in the place. He was a large man, his size accentuated +by his full silk petticoat; a man with large feet, large hands and a +round bullet head, set on a thick neck. He had a few sleek black hairs +at the corners of his mouth, and his long, narrow eyes, with thick +yellow whites and inky-black pupils, never expressed any emotion. +Clothed in strawberry-red silk and a white coat, with a crimson scarf +knotted low over his forehead, he was very nearly as strange and +wonderful a sight as his own shop of myriad wares, and his manner was at +all times the manner of a Grand Duke. Mhtoon Pah was as well known as +the pointing effigy outside, but, whereas the world in the street +believed they knew what the wooden man pointed at, no one could ever +tell what Mhtoon Pah saw, and no one knew except Mhtoon Pah himself. + +All day long Mhtoon Pah sat inside his shop on a low divan and smoked +cheroots, and only when a customer was of sufficient importance did he +ever rise to conduct a sale himself. He was assisted by a thin, eager +boy, a native Christian from Ootacamund, who had followed several trades +before he became the shop assistant of Mhtoon Pah. He was useful +because he could speak English, and he had been dressing-boy to a +married Sahib who lived in a big house at the end of the Cantonment, +therefore he knew something of the ways of Mem-Sahibs; and he had taken +a prize at the Sunday school, therefore Absalom was a boy of good +character, and was known very nearly as well as Mhtoon Pah himself. + +It was a hot, stifling evening, the evening of July the 29th. The rains +had lashed the country for days, and even the trees that grew in among +the houses of Paradise Street were fresh and green, though one of the +hot, burning breaks of blue sky and glaring sunlight had baked the road +into Indian-red dust once more, and the interior of Mhtoon Pah's curio +shop was heavy with stale scents and dark shadows that crept out as the +gloom of evening settled in upon it. Mhtoon Pah moved about looking at +his goods, and touching them with careful hands. He hovered over an +ivory lady carrying an umbrella, and looked long at a white marble +Buddha, who returned his look with an equally inscrutable regard. The +Buddha sat cross-legged, thinking for ever and ever about eternity, and +Mhtoon Pah moved round in red velvet toe-slippers, pattering lightly as +he went, for in spite of his bulk Mhtoon Pah had an almost soundless +walk. Having gone over everything and stood to count the silver bowls, +he waited as though he was listening, and after a little the light creak +of the staircase warned him that steps were coming towards the shop from +the upper rooms. + +"Absalom," he called, and the steps hurried, and after a moment's talk +to which the boy listened carefully as though receiving directions, he +told him to close the shop and place his chair at the top of the steps, +as he desired to sit outside and look at the street. + +When the chair was placed, Mhtoon Pah took up his elevated position and +smoked silently. The toil of the day was over, and he leaned his arm +along the back of his chair and crossed one leg over his knee. He could +hear Absalom closing the shop behind him, and he turned his curious, +expressionless eyes upon the boy as he passed down the steps and mingled +with the crowd in the street. Just opposite, a story-teller squatted on +the ground in the centre of a group of men who laughed and clapped their +hands, his flashing teeth and quick gesticulations adding to each point +he made; it was still clear enough to see his alternating expression of +assumed anger or amusement. It was clear enough to notice the coloured +scarves and smiling faces of a bullock cart full of girls going slowly +homewards, and it was clear enough to see and recognize the Rev. Francis +Heath, hurrying at speed between the crowd; clear enough to see the Rev. +Francis stop for a moment to wish his old pupil Absalom good evening, +and then vanish quickly like a figure flashed on a screen by a +cinematograph. + +Lights came out in high windows and sounds of bagpipes and beating +tom-toms began inside the open doors of a nautch house. An evil-looking +house where green dragons curled up the fretted entrance, and where, +overhead, faces peered from a balcony into the street. There was noise +enough there to attract any amount of attention. Smart carriages, with +white-uniformed _syces_, hurried up, bearing stout, plethoric men from +the wharf offices, and Mhtoon Pah saluted several of the sahibs, who +reclined in comfort behind fine pairs of trotting horses. + +Their time for passing having gone, and the street relieved of the +disturbance, lamps were carried out and set upon tables and booths, but +a few red streaks of evening tinted the sky, and faces that passed were +still recognizable. A bay pony ridden by a lady almost at a gallop came +so fast that she was up the street and round the corner in a twinkling. +If Mrs. Wilder was dining out on the night of July 29th she was running +things close; equally so if she was receiving guests. + +A flare of light from a window opposite fell across the face of the +dancing man, who pointed at Mhtoon Pah, and appeared to make him offer +his principal for sale, or introduce him to the street with an +indicating finger. The gloom grew, calling out the lights into strength, +but the concourse did not thin: it only gathered in numbers, and the +long, moaning hoot of an out-going tramp filled the air as though with a +wail of sorrow at departure. Lascars in coal-begrimed tunics joined in +with the rest, adding their voices to the babel, and round-hatted +sailors from the Royal Indian Marine ships mingled with them. + +All up and down the Mangadone River lights came out. Clear lights along +the land, and wavering torch-lights in the water. Ships' port-holes +cleared themselves in the darkness, ships' lights gleamed green and red +in high stars up in the crows'-nests, or at the shapeless bulk of dark +bows, and white sheets of strong electric clearness lay over one or two +landing-stages where craft was moored alongside and overtime work still +continued. Little sampans glided in and out like whispers, and small +boats with crossed oars, rowed by one man, ferried to and fro, but it +was late, and, gradually, all commercial traffic ceased. + +It was quite late now, an hour when European life had withdrawn to the +Cantonment. It was not an hour for Sahibs on foot to be about, and yet +it seemed that there was one who found the night air of July 29th hot +and close, and desired to go towards the river for the sake of the +breeze and the fresh air. He, too, like all the others, passed along +Paradise Street, passing quickly, as the others had passed, his head +bent and his eyes averted from the faces that looked up at him from easy +chairs, from crowded doorsteps, or that leaned over balconies. He, also, +whoever he was, had not Mhtoon Pah's leisure to regard the street, and +he went on with a steady, quick walk which took him out on to the wharf, +and from the wharf along a waste place where the tram lines ceased, and +away from there towards a cluster of lights in a house close over the +dark river itself. + +The stars came out overhead, and the Southern Cross leaned down; seen +from the river over the twin towers of the cathedral, seen from the +cathedral brooding over the native quarter, seen in Paradise Street not +at all, and not in any way missed by the inhabitants, whose eyes were +not upon the stars; seen again in the Cantonment, over the massed trees +of the park, and seen remarkably well from the wide veranda of Mrs. +Wilder's bungalow, where the guests sat after a long dinner, remarking +upon the heat and oppressiveness of the tropic night. The fire-flies +danced over the trees like iridescent sparks hung on invisible gauze, +and even came into the lighted drawing-room, to sparkle with less +radiance against the plain white walls. Fans whirred round and round +like large tee-totums set near the ceiling, and even the electric light +appeared to give out heat; no breeze stirred from the far-away river, no +coolness came with the dark, no relief from the brooding, sultry heat. +It was no hotter than many nights in any break in the rains, but the +guests invited by Mrs. Wilder felt the languor of the air, and felt it +more profoundly because their hostess herself was affected by it. + +Mrs. Wilder was a dark, handsome woman of thirty-five, usually full of +life and animation, and her dinners were known to be entertainments in +the real sense of the word. Draycott Wilder was no mate for her in +appearance or manner, but Draycott Wilder was marked by the Powers as a +successful man. He took very little part in the social side of their +married life, and sat in the shadow near the lighted door, listening +while his guests talked. The party was in no way different to many +others, and it would have ended and been forgotten by all concerned if +it had not been for the fact that an unusual occurrence broke it up in +dismay. Mrs. Wilder complained of the heat during dinner, and she had +been pale, looking doubly so in her vivid green dress; her usual +animation had vanished, and she talked with evident effort and seemed +glad of the darkness of the veranda. + +Suddenly one of those strange silences fell over everyone, silences that +may be of a few seconds' duration, but that appear like hours. What they +are connected with, no one can guess. The silence lasted for a second, +and it was broken with sudden violence. + +"My God," said the voice of Hartley, the Head of the Police, speaking in +tones of alarm. "Mrs. Wilder has fainted!" She had fallen forward in her +chair, and he had caught her as she fell. + +Very soon the guests dispersed and the bungalow was still for the night. +One or two waited to hear what the doctor had to say, and went away +satisfied in the knowledge that the heat had been too much for Mrs. +Wilder, and, but for that event, the dinner-party would have been +forgotten after two days. Hartley was the last to leave, and the sound +of trotting hoofs grew faint along the road. + +By an hour after midnight nearly the whole white population can be +presumed to be asleep; day wakes early in the East, and there are few +who keep all-night hours, because morning calls men from their beds to +their work, and even this hot, sultry night people lay on their beds and +tried to sleep; but in the small bungalow where the Rev. Francis Heath +lived with a solitary Sapper officer, the bed that he slept in was +smooth and unstirred by restless tossing inside the mosquito net. + +The Rev. Francis was out, sitting by the bed of a dying parishioner. He +watched the long hours through, dressed as he had been in the afternoon, +in a grey flannel suit, his thin neck too long and too spare for his +all-around collar, and as he watched sometimes and sometimes prayed, he +too felt the pressure of the night. + +The woman he prayed beside was dying and quite unconscious of his +presence. Now and then, to relieve the strain, he got up and stood by +the window, looking at the lights against the sky and thinking very +definitely of something that troubled him and drew his lips into a +tight, thin line. He was a young man of the type described usually as +"zealous" and "earnest," and a light that was almost the light of +fanaticism shone in his eyes. A dying parishioner was no more of a +novelty to Mr. Heath, than one of Mrs. Wilder's dinner-parties was to +her guests, and yet the woman on the bed appealed to his pity as few +others had done in his experience. + +When the doctor came he nodded to the clergyman and just touched the +hand on the quilt. He was in evening dress, and he explained that he had +been detained owing to his hostess having been taken suddenly ill. + +"Where is Rydal himself?" + +He asked the question carelessly, dropping the pulseless wrist. + +"Who can tell?" said the Rev. Francis Heath. + +"He'd better keep out of the way," continued the doctor. "I believe +there's a police warrant out for him. Hartley spoke of it to-night. She +will be gone before morning, and a good job for her." + +The throbbing hot night wore on, and July the 29th became July the 30th, +and Mangadone awoke to a fierce, tearing thunder-storm that boomed and +crashed and wore itself out in torrents of heavy rain. + + + + +II + +TELLS THE STORY OF A LOSS, AND HOW IT AFFECTED THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH + + +Half-way up a low hill rise on the far side of the Mangadone Cantonment +was the bungalow of Hartley, Head of the Police. It was a tidy, +well-kept house, the house of a bachelor who had an eye to things +himself and who was well served by competent servants. Hartley had +reached the age of forty without having married, and he was solid of +build and entirely sensible and practical of mind. He was spoken of as +"sound" and "capable," for it is thus we describe men with a word, and +his mind was adjusted so as to give room for only one idea at a time. He +was convinced that he was tactful to a fault, nothing had ever shaken +him in this belief, and his personal courage was the courage of the +British lion. Hartley was popular and on friendly and confidential terms +with everybody. + +Mangadone, like most other places in the East, was as full of cliques as +a book is of words, but Hartley regarded them not at all. Popularity was +his weakness and his strength, and he swam in all waters and was invited +everywhere. Mrs. Wilder, who knew exactly who to treat with distant +condescension and who to ignore entirely, invariably included him in +her intimate dinners, and the Chief Commissioner, also a bachelor, +invited him frequently and discussed many topics with him as the wine +circled. Even Craven Joicey, the banker, who made very few acquaintances +and fewer intimates, was friendly with Hartley; one of those odd, +unlikely friendships that no one understands. + +The week following upon the thunder-storm had been a week of grey skies +over an acid-green world, and even Hartley became conscious that there +is something mournful about a tropical country without a sun in the sky +as he sat in his writing-room. It was gloomy there, and the palm trees +outside tossed and swayed, and the low mist wraiths down in the valley +clung and folded like cotton-wool, hiding the town and covering it up to +the very top spires of the cathedral. Hartley was making out a report on +a case of dacoity against a Chinaman, but the light in the room was bad, +and he pushed back his chair impatiently and shouted to the boy to bring +a lamp. + +His tea was set out on a small lacquer table near his chair, and his +fox-terrier watched him with imploring eyes, occasionally voicing his +feelings in a stifled bark. The boy came in answer to his call, carrying +the lamp in his hands, and put it down near Hartley, who turned up the +wick, and fell to his reading again; then, putting the report into a +locked drawer, he drew his chair from the writing-table and poured out a +cup of tea. + +He had every reason to suppose that his day's work was done, and that he +could start off for the Club when his tea was finished. The wind rattled +the palm branches and came in gusts through the veranda, banging doors +and shaking windows, and the evening grew dark early, with the +comfortless darkness of rain overhead, when the wheels of a carriage +sounded on the damp, sodden gravel outside. Hartley got up and peered +through the curtain that hung across the door. Callers at such an hour +upon such a day were not acceptable, and he muttered under his breath, +feeling relieved, however, when he saw a fat and heavy figure in Burmese +clothing get out from the _gharry_. + +"If that is anyone to see me on business, say that this is neither the +place nor the hour to come," he shouted to the boy, and returning to the +tea-table, poured out a saucer of milk for the eager terrier, now +divided between his duties as a dog and his feelings as an animal. + +The boy reappeared after a pause, bearing a message to the effect that +Mhtoon Pah begged an immediate interview upon a subject so pressing that +it could not wait. + +Hartley listened to the message, swore under his breath, and looked +sharply at Mhtoon Pah when he came into the room. Usually the curio +dealer had a smile and a suave, pleasant manner, but on this occasion +all his suavity was gone, and his eyes, usually so inexpressive and +secret, were lighted with a strange, wolfish look of anger and rage that +was almost suggestive of insanity. + +He bowed before the Head of the Police and began to talk in broken, +gasping words, waving his hands as he spoke. His story was confused and +rambling, but what he told was to the effect that his boy, Absalom, had +disappeared and could not be found. + +"It was the night of the 29th of July, _Thakin_, and I sent him forth +upon a business. Next morning he did not return. It was I who opened the +shop, it was I who waited upon customers, and Absalom was not there." + +"What inquiries have you made?" + +"All that may be made, _Thakin_. His mother comes crying to my door, his +brothers have searched everywhere. Ah, that I had the body of the man +who has done this thing, and held him in the sacred tank, to make food +for the fishes." + +His dark eyes gleamed, and he showed his teeth like a dog. + +"Nonsense, man," said Hartley, quickly. "You seem to suppose that the +boy is dead. What reason have you for imagining that there has been foul +play?" + +"_Seem_ to suppose, _Thakin_?" Mhtoon Pah gasped again, like a drowning +man. "And yet the _Thakin_ knows the sewer city, the Chinese quarter, +the streets where men laugh horribly in the dark. Houses there, +_Thakin_, that crawl with yellow men, who are devils, and who split a +man as they would split a fowl--" he broke off, and waved his hands +about wildly. + +Hartley felt a little sick; there was something so hideous in the way +Mhtoon Pah expressed himself that he recoiled a step and summoned his +common sense to his aid. + +"Who saw Absalom last?" + +"Many people must have seen him. I sat myself outside the shop at sunset +to watch the street, and had sent Absalom forth upon a business, a +private business: he was a good boy. Many saw him go out, but no one saw +him return." + +"That is no use, Mhtoon Pah; you must give me some names. Who saw the +boy besides yourself?" + +Mhtoon Pah opened his mouth twice before any sound came, and he beat his +hands together. + +"The Padre Sahib, going in a hurry, spoke a word to him; I saw that with +my eyes." + +"Mr. Heath?" + +"Yes, _Thakin_, no other." + +"And besides Mr. Heath, was there anyone else who saw him?" + +Mhtoon Pah bowed himself double in his chair and rocked about. + +"The whole street saw him go, but none saw him return, neither will +they. They took Absalom into some dark place, and when his blood ran +over the floor, and out under the doors, the Chinamen got their little +knives, the knives that have long tortoise-shell handles, and very sharp +edges, and then--" + +"For God's sake stop talking like that," said Hartley, abruptly. "There +isn't a fragment of evidence to prove that the boy is murdered. I am +sorry for you, Mhtoon Pah, but I warn you that if you let yourself think +of things like that you will be in a lunatic asylum in a week." + +He took out a sheet of paper and made careful notes. The boy had been +gone four to five days, and beyond the fact that the Rev. Francis Heath +had seen and spoken to him, no one else was named as having passed along +Paradise Street. The clergyman's evidence was worth nothing at all, +except to prove that the boy had left Mhtoon Pah's shop at the time +mentioned, and Mhtoon Pah explained that the "private business" was to +buy a gold lacquer bowl desired by Mrs. Wilder, who had come to the shop +a day or two before and given the order. Gold lacquer bowls were +difficult to procure, and he had charged the boy to search for it in the +morning and to buy it, if possible, from the opium dealer Leh Shin, who +could be securely trusted to be half-drugged at an early hour. + +"It was the morning I spoke of, _Thakin_," said the curio dealer, who +had grown calmer. "But Absalom did not return to his home that night. He +may have gone to Leh Shin; he was a diligent boy, a good boy, always +eager in the pursuit of his duty and advantage." + +"I am very sorry for you, Mhtoon Pah," said Hartley again, "and I shall +investigate the matter. I know Leh Shin, and I consider it quite +unlikely that he has had anything to do with it." + +When Mhtoon Pah rattled away in the yellow _gharry_, Hartley put the +notes on one side. It was a police matter, and he could trust his staff +to work the subject up carefully under his supervision, and going to the +telephone, he communicated the principal facts to the head office, +mentioning the name of Leh Shin and the story of the gold lacquer bowl, +and giving instructions that Leh Shin was to be tactfully interrogated. + +When Hartley hung up the receiver he took his hat and waterproof and +went out into the warm, damp dusk of the evening. There was something +that he did not like about the weather. It was heavy, oppressive, +stifling, and though there was air in plenty, it was the stale air of a +day that seemed never to have got out of bed, but to have lain in a +close room behind the shut windows of Heaven. + +He remembered the boy Absalom well, and could recall his dark, eager +face, bulging eyes and protuberant under-lip, and the idea of his having +been decoyed off unto some place of horror haunted him. It was still on +his mind when he walked into the Club veranda and joined a group of men +in the bar. Joicey, the banker, was with them, silent, morose, and moody +according to his wont, taking no particular notice of anything or +anybody. Fitzgibbon, a young Irish barrister-at-law, was talking, and +laughing and doing his best to keep the company amused, but he could get +no response out of Joicey. Hartley was received with acclamations suited +to his general reputation for popularity, and he stood talking for a +little, glad to shake off his feeling of depression. When he saw Mr. +Heath come in and go up the staircase to an upstairs room, he followed +him with his eyes and decided to take the opportunity to speak to him. + +"What's the matter, Joicey?" he asked, speaking to the banker. "You look +as if you had fever." + +"I'm all right," Joicey spoke absently. "It's this infernally stuffy +weather, and the evenings." + +"I'm glad it's that," laughed Fitzgibbon, "I thought that it might be +me. I'm so broke that even my tea at _Chota haziri_ is getting badly +overdrawn." + +"Dine with me on Saturday," suggested Hartley, "I've seen very little of +you just lately." + +Joicey looked up and nodded. + +"I'll come," he said, laconically, and Hartley, finishing his drink, +went up the staircase. + +The reading-room of the Club was usually empty at that hour, and the +great tables littered with papers, free to any studious reader. When +Hartley came in, the Rev. Francis Heath had the place entirely to +himself, and was sitting with a copy of the _Saturday Review_ in his +hands. He did not hear Hartley come in, and he started as his name was +spoken, and putting down the _Review_, looked at the Head of the Police +with questioning eyes. + +"I've come to talk over something with you, Heath," Hartley began, +drawing a chair close to the table. "Can you remember anything at all of +what you were doing on the evening of July the twenty-ninth?" + +The Rev. Francis Heath dropped his paper, and stooped to pick it up; +certainly he found the evening hot, for his face ran with trickles of +perspiration. + +"July the twenty-ninth?" + +"Yes, that's the date. I am particularly anxious to know if you remember +it." + +Mr. Heath wiped his neck with his handkerchief. + +"I held service as usual at five o'clock." + +Hartley looked at him; there was something undeniably strained in the +clergyman's eyes and voice. + +"Ah, but what I am after took place later." + +The Rev. Francis Heath moistened his lips and stood up. + +"My memory is constantly at fault," he said, avoiding Hartley's eyes and +looking at the ground. "I would not like to make any specific statement +without--without--reference to my note-book." + +Hartley stared in astonishment. + +"This is only a small matter, Heath. I was trying to get round to my +point in the usual way, by giving no actual indication of what I wanted +to know. You see, if you tell a man what you want, he sometimes imagines +that what he did on another day is what really happened on the actual +occasion, and that, as you can imagine, makes our job very difficult. I +don't want to bother you, but as your name was mentioned to me in +connection with a certain investigation, I wished to test the truth of +my man's statement." + +Heath stood in the same attitude, his face pale and his eyes steadily +lowered. + +"It might be well for you to be more clear," he said, after a long +pause. + +"Did you go down Paradise Street just after sunset?" + +"I may have done so. I have several parishioners along the river bank." + +"Why the devil is he talking like this and looking like this?" Hartley +asked himself, impatiently. + +"I'm not a cross-examining counsel," he said, with some sharpness. "As +I told you before, Heath, it is only a very small matter." + +The Rev. Francis Heath gripped the back of his chair and a slight flush +mounted to his face. + +"I resent your questions, Mr. Hartley. What I did or did not do on the +evening of July the twenty-ninth can in no way affect you. I entirely +refuse to be made to answer anything. You have no right to ask me, and I +have no intention of replying." + +Hartley put his hand out in dismay. + +"Really, Heath, your attitude is quite absurd. I have already told one +man to-day that he was going mad; are you dreaming, man? I only want you +to help me, and you talk as if I had accused you of something. There is +nothing criminal in being seen in Paradise Street after sundown." + +Mr. Heath stood holding by the back of his chair, looking over Hartley's +head, his dark eyes burning and his face set. + +"Come, then," said the police officer abruptly, "who did you see? Did +you, for instance, see the Christian boy, Absalom, Mhtoon Pah's +assistant?" + +The Rev. Francis Heath made no answer. + +"Did you see him?" + +"I will not answer any further questions, but since you ask me, I did +see the boy." + +"Thank you, Heath; that took some getting at. Now will you tell me if +you saw him again later: I am supposing that you went down the wharf and +came back, shall I say, in an hour's time. Did you see Absalom again?" + +The clergyman stared out of the window, and his pause was of such +intensely long duration that when he said the one word, "No," it fell +like the splash of a stone dropped into a deep well. + +Hartley looked at his sleeve-links for quite a long time. + +"Good night, Heath," he said, getting up, but the Rev. Francis Heath +made no reply. + +Hartley went back to his bungalow with something to think about. He had +always regarded Heath as a difficult and rather violently religious man. +They had never been friends, and he knew that they never could be +friends, but he respected the man even without liking him. Now he was +quite convinced that Heath, after some deliberation with his conscience, +had lied to him, and it made him angry. He had admitted, with the +greatest reluctance, that he had been through Paradise Street, and seen +the boy, and his declaration that he had not seen him again did not ring +with any real conviction. It made the whole question more interesting, +but it made it unpleasant. If things came to light that called the +inquiry into court, the Rev. Francis Heath might live to learn that the +law has a way of obliging men to speak. If Hartley had ever been sure of +anything in his life, he was sure that Heath knew something of Absalom, +and knew where he had gone in search of the gold lacquer bowl that was +desired by Mrs. Wilder. He made up his mind to see Mrs. Wilder and ask +her about the order for the bowl; but he hardly thought of her, his mind +was full of the mystery that attached itself to the question of the +Rector of St. Jude's parish, and his fierce and angry refusal to talk +reasonably. + +He threw open his windows and sat with the air playing on his face, and +his thoughts circled round and round the central idea. Absalom was +missing, and the Rev. Francis Heath had behaved in a way that led him to +believe that he knew a great deal more than he cared to say, and Hartley +brooded over the subject until he grew drowsy and went upstairs to bed. + + + + +III + +INDICATES A STANDPOINT COMMONLY SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT THE PRINCIPLES OF +THE JESUIT FATHERS + + +It was quite early the following morning when Hartley set out to take a +stroll down Paradise Street, and from there to the Chinese quarter, +where Leh Shin had a small shop in a colonnade running east and west. +The houses here were very different to the houses in Paradise Street. +The fronts were brightened with gilt, and green and red paint daubed the +entrances. Almost every third shop was a restaurant, and Hartley did not +care to think of the sort of food that was cooked and eaten within. +Immense lanterns, that turned into coloured moons by night, but they +were pale and dim by day, hung on the cross-beams inside the houses. + +Some half-way down the colonnade, and deep in the odorous gloom, Leh +Shin worked at nothing in particular, and sold devils as Mhtoon Pah sold +them, but without the same success. The door of his shop was closed, and +Hartley rapped upon it several times before he received an answer; then +a bolt was shot back, and Leh Shin's long neck stretched itself out +towards the officer. He was a thin, gaunt figure, lean as the Plague, +and his spare frame was clad in cheap black stuff that hung around him +like the garments of Death itself. Hartley drew back a step, for the +smell of _napi_ and onions is unpleasant even to the strongest of white +men, and told Leh Shin to open the door wide as he wished to talk to +him. Leh Shin, with many owlish blinkings of his narrow eyes, asked +Hartley to come inside. The street was not a good place for talking, and +Hartley followed him into the shop. + +It was very dark within, and a dim light fell from high skylight +windows, giving the shop something of the suggestion of a well. Counters +blocked it, making entrance a matter of single file, and, in the deep +gloom at the back, two candles burned before a huge, ferocious-looking +figure depicted on rice-paper and stuck against the wall. It was hard to +believe that it was day outside, so heavy was the darkness, and it was a +few moments before Hartley's eyes became accustomed to the sudden +change. Second-hand clothes hung on pegs around the room, and all kinds +of articles were jumbled together regardless of their nature. On the +floor was a litter of silk and silver goods, boxes, broken portmanteaux, +ropes, baskets, and on the counter nearest the door a tiny silver cage +of beautiful workmanship inhabited by a tiny golden bird with ruby eyes. + +At the back of the shop and near the yellow circle of light thrown by +the candles, was a boy, naked to the waist, and immensely stout and +heavy. His long plait of hair was twisted round and round on his shaven +forehead, and he stood perfectly still, watching the officer out of +small pig eyes. He was chewing something slowly, turning it about and +about inside a small, narrow slit of a mouth, and his whole expression +was cunning and evil. Leh Shin followed Hartley's glance and saw the +boy, and the sight of him seemed to recall him to actual life, for he +spoke in words that sounded like stones knocking together and ordered +him out of the shop. The boy looked at him oddly for a moment; then +turned away, still munching, and lounged out of the room, stopping on +the threshold of a back entrance to take one more look at Hartley. + +As a rule Hartley was not affected by the peculiarities of the people he +dealt with, but Leh Shin's assistant impressed him unpleasantly. +Everything he did was offensive, and his whole suggestion loathsome. +Hartley was still thinking of him when he looked at Leh Shin, who stood +blinking before him, awaiting his words patiently. + +"Now, Leh Shin, I want to ask you a few questions. Do you sell lacquer +in this shop?" + +The Chinaman indicated that he sold anything that anyone would buy. + +"Do you happen to know that Mhtoon Pah was looking for a bowl of gold +lacquer, and that he sent his boy Absalom here to get it?" + +Leh Shin shook his head. He was a poor man, and he knew nothing. +Moreover, he knew nothing of July the twenty-ninth, he did not count +days. He had not seen the boy Absalom. + +"Let me advise you to be truthful, Leh Shin," said Hartley. "You may be +called upon to give an account of yourself on the evening and night of +July the twenty-ninth." + +Leh Shin looked stolidly at the mildewed clothes and tried to remember, +but he failed to be explicit, and the greasy, obese creature, still +chewing, was recalled to assist his master's memory. He spoke in a high +chirping voice, and looked at Hartley with angry eyes as he asserted +that his master had been ill upon the evening mentioned and that he had +closed the shop early, and that he himself had gone to the nautch house +to witness a dance that had lasted until morning. + +"You can prove what you say, I suppose," said Hartley, speaking to Leh +Shin, "and satisfy me that the boy Absalom was not here, and did not +come here?" + +Leh Shin, moved to sudden life, protested that he could prove it, that +he could call half Hong Kong Street to prove it. + +"I don't want Hong Kong Street. I want a creditable witness," said +Hartley, and he turned to go. "So far as I know, you are an honest +dealer, Leh Shin, and I am quite ready to believe, if you can help me, +that you were ill that night, but I must have a creditable witness." + +When he left the shop, Leh Shin looked at the fat, sodden boy, and the +boy returned his look for a moment, but neither of them spoke, and a few +minutes later the door was bolted from within, and they were once more +alone in the shadows, with the rags, the broken portmanteaux, the relics +of art, and the animal smell, and Hartley was out in the street. He was +pretty secure in the belief that Leh Shin had not seen the boy, and that +he knew nothing of the gold lacquer bowl, but he also believed that +Mhtoon Pah had been far too crafty to tell the Chinaman that anyone +particularly wanted such a treasure of art. Mhtoon Pah, or his emissary, +would have priced everything in the shop down to the most maggot-eaten +rag before he would have mentioned the subject of lacquer bowls. + +There was no mystery connected with the bowl, but there was something +sickening about Leh Shin's shop, and something utterly horrible about +his assistant. Hartley wished he had not seen him, he wished that he had +remained in ignorance of his personality. He thought of him in the +sweating darkness he had left, and as he thought he remembered Mhtoon +Pah's wild, extravagant fancies, and they grew real to his mind. + +It was next to impossible to discover what the truth was about Leh +Shin's illness on the night of July the 29th, and it really did not bear +very much upon the matter, unless there was no other clue to what had +become of the boy. Hartley returned to other matters and put the case on +one side for the moment. On his way back for luncheon he looked in at +Mhtoon Pah's shop. He had intended to pass, but the sight of the little +wooden man ushering him up the steps made him turn and stop and then go +in. Mhtoon Pah sat on his divan in the scented gloom, very different to +the interior of Leh Shin's shop, and when he saw Hartley he struggled to +his feet and demanded news of Absalom. + +"There is none yet," said Hartley, sitting down. "Now, Mhtoon Pah, are +you quite sure that it was Mr. Heath that you saw that evening?" + +"I saw him with these eyes. I saw him pass, and he was going quickly. I +read the walk of men and tell much by it. The Reverend was in a great +hurry. Twice did he pull out his watch as he came along the street, and +he pushed through the crowd like a rogue elephant going through a rice +crop. I have seen the Reverend walking before, and he walked slowly, he +spoke with the _Babus_ from the Baptist mission, but this day," Mhtoon +Pah flung his hands to the roof, "shall I forget it? This day he walked +with speed, and when my little Absalom salaamed before him, he hardly +stopped, which is not the habit of the Reverend." + +"Did you see him come back? Mr. Heath, I mean?" + +Mhtoon Pah stood and looked curiously at Hartley, and remained in a +state of suspended animation for a second. + +"How could I see him come back?" he said, in a flat, expressionless +voice. "I went to the Pagoda, _Thakin_. I am building a shrine there, +and shall thereby acquire much merit. I did not see the Reverend return. +Besides, he might not have come by the way of Paradise Street." + +"He might not." + +"It is not known," said Mhtoon Pah, shaking his head dubiously, and then +rage seemed to flare up in him once more. "It is Leh Shin, the +Chinaman," he said, violently. "Let it be known to you, _Thakin_, they +eat strange meats, they hold strange revels. I have heard things--" he +lowered his voice. "I have been told of how they slay." + +"Then keep the information to yourself, unless you can prove it," said +Hartley, firmly. "I want to hear nothing about it." He got up and looked +around the shop. "I suppose you haven't got the lacquer bowl since?" + +"No, _Thakin_, I have not got it, neither have I seen Leh Shin, an evil +man. The Lady Sahib will have to wait; neither has she been here since, +nor asked for the bowl." + +Hartley walked down the steps; he was troubled by the thought, and the +more he tried to work out some definite theory that left Mr. Heath +outside the ring that he proposed to draw around his subject, the more +he appeared on the horizon of his mind, always walking quickly and +looking at his watch. + +Through lunch he went over the facts and faced the Heath question +squarely, considering that if Heath knew that the boy was in trouble, +and had connived at his escape, he would be muzzled, but there was +nothing to show that Absalom had ever broken the law. His employer, +Mhtoon Pah, was in despair at his disappearance, his record was +blameless, and he had been entrusted with the deal in lacquer to be +carried out the following morning. + +Looking for Absalom was like tracing a shadow that has passed along a +street on soundless feet, and Hartley felt an eager determination seize +him to catch up with this flying wraith. + +Still with the same idea in his mind, he drove along the principal +roads in his buggy, directing his way towards the bungalow where the +Rector of St. Jude's lived with Atkins, the Sapper. The house was draped +in climbing and trailing creepers, and the grass grew into the red drive +that curved in a half-circle from one rickety gate to another. He came +up quietly on the soft, wet clay, and looked up at the house before he +called for the bearer, and as he looked up he saw a face disappear +quickly from behind a window. After a few minutes the boy came running +down a flight of steps from the back, and hurried in to get a tray, +which he held out for the customary card. + +"Take that away," said Hartley, "and tell the Padré Sahib that I must +see him." + +"The Padré Sahib is out, Sahib." + +The boy still held the tray like a collecting-plate. + +"Out," said Hartley, "nonsense. Go and tell your master that my business +is important." + +After a moment the boy returned again, the tray still in his hand. + +"Gone out, Sahib," he said, resolutely, and without waiting for any more +Hartley turned the pony's head and drove out slowly. + +Twice in two days Heath had lied, to his certain knowledge, and as he +glanced back at the bungalow, a curtain in an upper window moved +slightly as though it had been dropped in haste. + +Just as he turned into the road he came face to face with Atkins, +Heath's bungalow companion, and he pulled up short. + +"I've been trying to call on the Padré," he said, carelessly, "but he +was out." + +"Out," said Atkins, in a tone of surprise. "Why, that is odd. He told me +he was due at a meeting at half-past five, and that he wasn't going out +until then. I suppose he changed his mind." + +"It looks like it," said Hartley, dryly. + +"He hasn't been well these last few days," went on Atkins, quickly, +"said he felt the weather, and he certainly seems ill. I don't believe +the poor devil sleeps at all. Whenever I wake, I can see his light in +the passage." + +"That is bad," Hartley's voice grew sympathetic. "Has he been long like +this?" + +"Not long," said Atkins, who was constitutionally accurate. "I think it +began about the night after the thunder-storm, but I can't say for +certain." + +"Well, I won't keep you." Hartley touched the pony's quarters with his +whip. "I'm sorry I missed Heath, as I wanted to see him about something +rather important." + +"I'll tell him," said Atkins, cheerfully, "and probably he'll look you +up at your own house." + +"Will he, I wonder?" thought the police officer, and he set to work upon +the treadmill of his thoughts again. + +There is nothing in the world so tantalizing, and so hard to bear, as +the conviction that knowledge is just within reach and that it is +deliberately withheld. Heath stood between him and elucidation, and the +more firmly the clergyman held his ground, and the more definitely he +blocked the path, the more sure Hartley became that he did so of set +purpose. + +"But _why_, _why_?" he asked himself, as he drove through the Cantonment +towards Mrs. Wilder's bungalow. + +Atkins got off his bicycle and handed it over to his boy as he arrived +at the dreary entrance. + +"The Padré Sahib is out?" he said, in his brisk, matter-of-fact tones. + +"The Padré Sahib is upstairs," said the boy, with an immovable face; and +Atkins went up quickly. + +"Hallo, Heath, I met Hartley just now, and he said you were out." + +Heath looked up from a sheet of paper laid out on the writing-table +before him. + +"I did not feel up to seeing Hartley," he said, a little stiffly. "It is +not a convenient hour for callers, so I availed myself of an excuse." + +"He told me to tell you that it was rather a pressing matter that +brought him here, and I said that I would give you his message, and that +you would probably go round to see him." + +"You said that, Atkins?" + +His face was so drawn and unnatural that Atkins looked at him in +surprise. + +"I suppose I was right?" + +"If Hartley wants to see me," said Heath, in a loud, angry voice, "or if +he wants to come bullying and blustering, he must write and make an +appointment. I have every right to protect myself from a man who asks +personal and most impertinent questions." + +"Hartley, impertinent?" Atkins' eyes grew round. + +"When I say impertinent, I mean not pertinent, or bearing upon any +subject that I intend to discuss with him." + +The Rev. Francis Heath got up and walked towards the window, turning his +back upon the room. + +"I don't mix in social politics," said Atkins, soothingly. "But at the +same time, I can't understand you, Heath. What the devil does Hartley +want to know?" + +The clergyman caught at the curtain and gripped it as he had gripped the +back of his chair at the Club. + +"Never ask me that again, Atkins," he said, in a low, hoarse voice. +"Never speak to me about this again." + +Atkins retreated quickly from the room; there was something in the +manner of the Rev. Francis Heath that he did not like, and he registered +a mental vow to let the subject drop, so far as he, a lieutenant in His +Majesty's Royal Engineers, was concerned, and never to allude to it, +either for "fear or favour," again. + + + + +IV + +INTRODUCES THE READER TO MRS. WILDER IN A SECRETIVE MOOD + + +Draycott Wilder was a man who hoarded his passions and concentrated them +upon a very few objects. His work came first, and his intense ambition, +and after his work, his wife. She was the right sort of wife for a man +who put worldly success first, and through the years of their marriage +had helped him a great deal more than he ever admitted. Clarice Wilder +was beautiful, and had a surface cleverness combined with a natural gift +of tact that made her an admirable hostess. She could talk to anybody +and send them away pleased and satisfied with themselves, and she had +made the best of Draycott for a good number of years. She had married +him when marriage seemed a big thing and a wonderful thing, and her +country home in Devonshire a small, breathless place where nothing ever +happened, and where life was one long Sunday at Home, and Draycott, back +from the East, had appeared as interesting as a white Othello. + +For a time she received all she needed out of life, and she threw +herself into her husband's promotion-hunger; understanding it, because +she, too, wanted to reign, and it gave her an inexplicable feeling of +respect for him, for Clarice knew that had she been born a man, she, +too, would have worked and schemed and pushed herself out into the front +of the ranks. She combined with him as only an ambitious woman can +combine, and she supplied all he lacked. It filled her mind, and she +never awoke the jealousy that lay like a sleeping python in the heart of +Draycott Wilder. It was when they were in India that Clarice, for the +first time, lost her grip and allowed her senses to get the better of +her common sense, and she became for a brief time a woman with a very +troublesome heart. Hector Copplestone, a young man newly come to the +Indian Civil Service, was sent to their Punjaub station. He made Mrs. +Wilder realize her own charm, he made her terribly conscious that she +was older than him, he made her anxious and distracted and madly, +idiotically in love with him. She forgot that there were other things in +life, she put aside ambition for a stronger temptation, and she did not +care what Draycott thought or supposed. + +No one ever knew what happened, but everyone guessed that Wilder had +made trouble. They left India under the same cloud of silence, and they +reappeared in Mangadone to outside eyes the same couple who had pulled +together for successful years of marriage; and if some whisper, for +whispers carry far in the East, came after them, no one regarded it, and +the Copplestone incident was considered permanently closed. Draycott +Wilder was the same silent man who was the despair of his dinner +partners, and Clarice had her old brilliancy and her old way of making +men pleased with themselves; and though some people, chiefly young +girls, described her as "hard," she represented a centre of attraction, +and her one mad year was a thing of the past. + +Among the men who went to the terraced house in its huge gardens, she +always particularly welcomed Hartley, the Head of the Police. He never +demanded effort, and he had a good nature and a flow of small talk. +Nearly every woman liked Hartley, though very few of them could have +said why. He had fair, fluffy hair and a pink face; he was just weak +enough to be easily influenced, and he fell platonically in love with +every new woman he met without being in the least faithless to the +others. Mrs. Wilder had a corner in her heart for him, and he, in +return, looked upon Mrs. Wilder as a brilliant and lovely woman very +much too good for Draycott. He did not know that he took his ideas from +her whenever she wished him to do so; Mrs. Wilder, like a clever +conjurer, palmed her ideas like cards, and upheld the principle of free +will while she did so, and if she had desired to impress Hartley with +fifty-two new notions he would have left her positive in his own mind +that they were his own. + +Thus, Clarice Wilder may be classed as that melodramatic type that goes +about labelled "dangerous," only she had the wit to take off the label +and to advertise herself under the guise of a harmless soothing mixture. + +The bungalow in which the Wilders lived was an immense place, standing +over a terraced garden beautifully planted with flowers. Steps, covered +with white marble, led from terrace to terrace, and down to a +jade-green lake where water-lilies blossomed and pink lotus flowers +floated. Dark green trees plumed with shaded purple flowers accentuated +the massed yellow of the golden laburnums. The topmost flight of steps +led up to the house, and was flanked on either side with variegated +laurel growing in sea-green pots, and the red avenue, that took its +lengthy way from the main road, curved into a wide sweep outside the +flower-hung veranda. + +Hartley arrived at the house just as Mrs. Wilder was having tea alone in +the big drawing-room, and she smiled up at him with her curious eyes, +that were the colour of granite. Without exactly knowing what her age +was, Hartley felt, somehow, that she looked younger than she was, and +that she did not do so without some aid from "boxes," but he liked her +none the less for that, and possibly admired her more. He sat down and +asked her how she was, and, as he looked at her, he wondered to think +that she had ever fainted. Clearly, she was the last woman on earth who +could be accused of Victorian ways, and to see her in her white lace +dress, dark, distinguished, and perfectly mistress of her emotions, was +to be bewildered at the memory. She treated the question with scant +ceremony, and remarked upon the fact that the night had been hot, and +that everyone had felt it. + +"I've got an excellent reason for remembering the date," said Hartley +reflectively. "By the way, wasn't Absalom, old Mhtoon Pah's assistant, +once a dressing-boy or something in your establishment?" + +"He was, and then he went sick, and took to this other kind of work." + +"He was quite honest, I suppose?" + +"Perfectly honest," said Mrs. Wilder, with a slight lift of her +eyebrows, "and a nice little boy. I hope that question doesn't mean that +you are professionally interested in his past?" she laughed carelessly. +"I am quite prepared to stand up for Absalom; he was the soul of +integrity." + +Hartley put down his cup on the table. + +"The boy has disappeared," he said, talking with interest, for the +subject filled his mind. + +"But when, and how? I saw him quite lately." + +Hartley's round, China-blue eyes fixed upon her. + +"Can you tell me when you saw him?" + +"One night--evening, I should say--I was out riding and I passed him +going towards the wharf, not towards the wharf exactly, but to the +houses that lie out by the end of the tram lines." + +"What evening? I wish you could remember for me." + +"It was the night of my own dinner-party." + +"Then that was July the twenty-ninth?" + +Mrs. Wilder looked at him, and bit her lip. + +"Was it the twenty-ninth?" Hartley repeated the question. + +"Probably it was, if you say so. I told you just now that I had Burma +head. But where has Absalom gone to?" + +Hartley took up his cup again and stirred the spoon round and round. + +"Forgive me for pelting you with questions, but did you see Mr. Heath +that evening?" + +"Now, what _are_ you trying to get out of me, Mr. Hartley? Did Mr. Heath +tell you that he had seen me?" + +Hartley stared at his feet. + +"Heath has got Burma head, too, and won't tell me anything. It might +help his memory if you were able to say whether you had seen him or not +that evening." + +Mrs. Wilder's fine eyes glittered into a smile that was not exactly +mirthful or pleasant. + +"I don't see that I can possibly say one way or another. I often do +. . . I often do see him going about the native quarter when I ride +through, but I do not write it down in my book, so it is quite +impossible for me to say." + +"Anyhow, you saw Absalom?" + +"Oh, yes, I saw the boy. What a persistent man you are, and you haven't +told me a word yourself." + +"Absalom was to have got a gold lacquer bowl that you ordered from +Mhtoon Pah?" + +"Quite correct," laughed Mrs. Wilder with more of her usual manner. +"That old Barabbas has never sent it to me yet, either. I ordered it a +month ago. I love lacquer because it looks like nothing else, and +particularly gold lacquer." + +"Well, all I can tell you is that Absalom had an order from Mhtoon Pah +to get the bowl the next morning, if it was to be got, and he went away +as usual the night of the twenty-ninth, and never appeared again. Heath +saw him, and you saw him, and that is pretty nearly all the evidence I +can collect." + +"Evidence?" Mrs. Wilder's voice had a piercing note in it. + +"Yes, evidence. You see the only way to trace a man is to find out +exactly who saw him last, and where." + +"Ah, I see. You find out what everyone was doing, and where they were, +and you piece the bits in. It's like a jig-saw, and how very interesting +it must be." + +Hartley laughed. + +"Not what the other people were doing exactly, but where they were. It +is something to know that you saw the boy, but I wish you could remember +if you saw Heath." + +Mrs. Wilder got up and walked to the window. + +"I do hope he will be found. Did he take my lacquer bowl with him?" + +"He had not got it," said Hartley, in his steady, matter-of-fact voice. + +"Are you _worried_ about it?" She turned and looked across the room. +"Why should you be? If Absalom has chosen to leave, I really don't see +why he shouldn't be allowed to go in peace." + +"I don't know that he did _choose_ to leave; that is just the point." + +He was longing to ask her another question about Heath, and yet he did +not like to press her. + +"Here are some callers," she remarked, and then, with a short laugh, "I +wonder if they were out and about that evening. If you go on like this, +Mr. Hartley, you will make yourself the most popular man in Mangadone. +Take my advice and let Absalom come back in his own way. Perhaps he is +looking for my bowl." She turned her head and glanced at some cards that +the bearer had brought in on a tray. "Show the ladies in, Gulab." + +In a few minutes the room was full of voices and laughter, and Mrs. +Wilder became unconscious of Hartley. She remained so unconscious of him +that he felt uncomfortable and began to wonder if he had offended her in +any way. He looked at her from time to time, and when he got up to go +she gave him her hand as though she was only just sure that he was +really there. + +The disappearance of Absalom was taking strange shapes in his mind, and +he had so far come to the conclusion that Heath knew something about +Absalom, and his visit to Mrs. Wilder added the puzzling fact to his +mental arithmetic that Mrs. Wilder knew something about Heath. It was +one thing to corner Heath, but Heath standing behind Mrs. Wilder's +protection, became formidable. + +Yet it was not in the Cantonment that Hartley expected to find any clue +to the vanished Absalom: it was down in the native quarter. Down there +where the Chinese eating-houses were beginning to fill, and where the +night life was only just awaking from its slumber of the day, was where +Absalom, the Christian boy, had last been seen, and it was there, if +anywhere, that he must be searched for and found. + +What possible connection could there be between an upright, Godly man +who went his austere way along the high, cold path of duty, and a woman +whose husband was madly grasping at the biggest prize of his profession? +What link could bind life with life, when lives were divided by such +yawning gulfs of space and class and race? To connect Mrs. Wilder with +Heath was almost as mad a piece of folly as to connect Absalom with the +clergyman, and yet, Hartley argued, he had not set out to do it. +Something that had not begun with any act or question of his had brought +about the junction of the ideas, and he felt like a man in a dark room +trying to make his way to the window, and meeting with unrecognizable +obstacles. + +The small tinkle of the church bell attracted his attention, and, +following a sudden whim, he went into the tin building and sat down near +the door. Mr. Heath did not look down the sparsely-filled church as he +read the evening service, and he prayed with an almost violent fervour. +Certainly to-night the Rev. Francis Heath was praying as though he was +alone, and the odd imploring misery of his voice struck Hartley.--"To +perceive and know the things that we ought to do, and to have grace and +power faithfully to fulfil the same." + +Heath's voice had broken into a kind of sob, the sound that tells of +strain and hysteria, but what was there in Mangadone to make a +respectable parson strained and hysterical? + + + + +V + +CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, FINDS THAT HIS MEMORY IS NOT TO BE TRUSTED + + +Just as Draycott Wilder stood high in the eyes of the Powers that govern +the Civil Service of India, so, too, in his own way, was Craven Joicey, +the Banker, a man with a solid reputation. If you build a reputation +solidly for the first half of a lifetime, it will last the latter half +without much attention or care, and, contrariwise, a bad beginning is +frequently stronger than any reformation, and stronger than integrity +that comes too late. + +Joicey had begun well, and had, as the saying goes, "made his way." He +was a large, heavy man, representative in figure and slow and careful of +speech. He kept the secrets of his bank, and he kept his own secrets, if +he had any, and was a walking tomb for confidences not known as +"tender." No one would have attempted to tell him their affairs of the +heart, but almost anyone with money to invest would go direct to Craven +Joicey. He had no wife, no child, and, as far as anyone knew, no kith or +kin, and he had no intimate friends. He had one of those strange, shut +faces; a mouth that told nothing, eyes that were nearly as +expressionless as the eyes of Mhtoon Pah, and he had no restless +movements. A plethoric man, Joicey, a man who got up and sat down +heavily, a man who looked at his business and not beyond it, and never +troubled Society. He probably knew that Heath lived in Mangadone, that +was if Heath banked with him; otherwise, he might easily not have known +it. + +He knew of the Wilders. He knew what Draycott Wilder owned, and he knew +that Mrs. Wilder had a very small allowance of her own, paid quarterly +through a Devonshire bank, but more than this he neither knew nor wished +to know of them, and he never went to their house. + +Joicey had not "worn well"; there was no denying that sweating years of +Burmese rains and hot weathers had made him prematurely old. His thick +hair was patched with white, and his face was flabby and yellow. Craven +Joicey was one of those men, who, if he had died suddenly, would have +made people remember that they always thought him unhealthy-looking. +There was nothing, romantic, exciting, or interesting about him; his +mind was a huge pass-book, and his brain a network of facts and figures. +He played no games, went only seldom to the Club, and knew no one in the +place better than he knew Hartley, which was little, but at any rate +Hartley dined once or twice in the year with him, and he occasionally +dined in return with the Head of the Police. + +Hartley was so occupied with his trouble of mind on the subject of +Absalom that he very nearly forgot that he had invited Joicey to dinner +the following Saturday. The police had discovered nothing whatever, and +he had received another visit at his house from the curio dealer. Mhtoon +Pah, in a condition bordering upon frenzy, stated that when he had stood +on his steps in the morning, intending to go to the Pagoda to offer alms +to the priests, he had noticed his wooden effigy and gone down to look +closer at him. The yellow man pointed as was his wont, but over the +pointing hand lay a rag soaked in blood. + +Mhtoon Pah, immense and splendid in his silk, had given forth wild +noises as he produced the rag, noises that reminded Hartley irresistibly +of the trumpeting of elephants, but they were terrible to hear. + +"It is enough," he said, his face quivering. "This is the work of the +Chinamen. They slit his veins, _Thakin_, they are doing it slowly. The +_Thakin_ can understand that Absalom still lives, his blood is fresh and +red, it is not dead blood that runs like treacle, it is living blood +that spouts out hot, and that steams and smokes. _Thakin_, _Thakin_, I +cry for vengeance." + +"I'm doing all I can, Mhtoon Pah," said Hartley, desperately. "I can't +go and arrest Leh Shin on suspicion, because there isn't a vestige of +suspicion attached to the man." + +"Not after this?" Mhtoon Pah pointed to the rag that lay loathsomely on +the table. + +"That may be goat's blood, or dog's blood; we can't say it is +Absalom's," objected Hartley. "Leave the horrid thing there, Mhtoon Pah, +and I will have it analysed later on." + +Mhtoon Pah gasped and beat his breast. + +"He was a good boy, he attended the Mission with regularity, and they +are doing terrible things. They wind wires around the finger-nails and +the toe-nails until they turn black and drop off. You do not know these +Chinamen, _Thakin_, as I know them. Have you seen the assistant of Leh +Shin?" + +Hartley wished that he had not; he frequently wished that he had never +seen that man. + +Mhtoon Pah bent near the Head of the Police and spoke in low, sibilant +tones: + +"He is a butcher's mate, _Thakin_. He is a slayer of flesh. He kills in +the shambles. Oh, it is true. I saw him slit the mouth of a dog with his +knife for his own mirth--" + +"Swine!" said Hartley. + +"Why he left there and went to live with Leh Shin is unknown. He has +secrets. He knows the best mixtures of opium, he knows--" + +"I don't want to hear what he knows." + +"He knows where Absalom is." + +"You only think that," said Hartley, roughly. "It is a dangerous thing +to make these assertions. It is only your idea, Mhtoon Pah." + +The Burman groaned aloud and held the rag between his hands. + +"Put that down," said Hartley. Mhtoon Pah's very agony of desire to find +the boy was almost disgusting, and he turned away from the sight. "There +is no use your staying here, and no use your coming, unless there is +more of this devil's work," he pointed to the blood-stained cloth. +"Leave the thing here, and I will see what the doctors have to say +about it." + +"_Thakin_, _Thakin_," said Mhtoon Pah. "The time grows late. My night's +rest is taken from me, and the Chinaman, Leh Shin, walks the roads. I +saw him from my place at sunset. I saw him go by like a cat that prowls +when night falls and it grows dark. He passed by my wooden image of a +dancing man, and he touched him as he passed--" he gave a despairing +gesture with his heavy hands. "Oh, Absalom, Absalom, my grief is heavy!" + +"He will be either found or accounted for," said Hartley, with a +decision and firmness he was far from feeling, and Mhtoon Pah, with bent +head, went away out of the room. + +The rain that had held off all day began to come down in pitiless +torrents, blown in by the wind, and fighting against bolts and bars. It +ruffled the muddy waters of the river, ran along the kennels of the +Chinese quarter, drove the inhabitants of Paradise Street indoors and +soused down over the Cantonment gardens, and battered on the travelling +carriage of Craven Joicey, that came along the road, a waterproof over +the pony's back and another covering the _syce_, and Joicey sat inside +the small green box, holding the window-strings under his heavy arms. + +Joicey was not a cheerful companion, and in his present mood Fitzgibbon, +the Barrister, would have suited Hartley better; but he had asked +Joicey, and Joicey was on his way, thinking about Bank business in all +probability, thinking of money lent out at interest, thinking of careful +ledgers and neat rows of figures, and certainly not in the least likely +to be thinking of the Chinese quarter, or of a person of so small +account, financially, as Absalom, the Christian native. The river or the +ships or the back lanes of Mangadone might swallow a thousand Absaloms +and make no difference to the Bank, and therefore none to Craven Joicey. + +Absalom, that shadow of the night, had gone to heaven or hell, and left +no bills behind, and it is by bills that some men's memories are +recorded. He was only another grain of red dust blown about by the wind +of Fate, and though the Rector of St. Jude's might consider that, having +been marked by the sign of the Cross, he was in some way different from +the rest, neither Craven Joicey nor Clarice Wilder could be expected to +take very much heed of the fact. + +All stories of disappearance, from time immemorial, have held interest, +and everyone has known of some case which has never been explained or +accounted for. Someone who got into a cab and never appeared again, and +left the impression that he had driven over the edge of the world into +space, for the cab, the cab driver, the horse, the vehicle and the +passenger inside were lost from that moment; someone who went for a +bicycle ride in England, and was found later selling old clothes in +Chicago; someone who went away by train, someone who went away by boat; +the world is full of instances, and they are always tinged with the +greatest mystery of all mysteries, because they foreshadow the ultimate +mystery that awaits the soul of man. For this universal reason, it +might be concluded that Joicey might listen with attention to the story +of Absalom, though his lowly station and his total lack of the most +necessary form of balance, very naturally made him merely a black cypher +of no special account in the eyes of a man of figures. + +Certainly Craven Joicey had not worn well. Hartley noticed it as he +stood taking off his scarf in the hall, and he noticed it again as the +Banker sat sipping a sherry and bitters under the strong light of the +electric lamp. He looked fagged and tired, and though he cheered up a +little as dinner went through, he relapsed into a heavy, silent mood +again, as if he was dragged at by thoughts that had power over him. + +"There is nothing the matter with you, is there, Joicey?" asked his +host. "You don't seem to be up to the mark." + +"What mark?" said Joicey, with a laugh. "Up to your mark, Hartley, or my +own mark, or someone else's mark? The average mark in Mangadone is low +water. There have been a lot of defaulters this year, and even admitting +that the place is rich, there is a good deal more insolvency about than +I like or than the directors care for. It keeps me grinding and +grinding, and wears the nerves." + +"By George," said Hartley, "I should have said that my own job was about +the most nerve-tattering of any. I had an interview with Mhtoon Pah this +afternoon that shook me up a bit." + +"Ah, I heard that his boy has disappeared." + +The door between the dining-and the drawing-room was thrown open, and +dinner announced as Joicey spoke, and the conversation took another +turn. Many things were bothering Joicey--the financial year generally, a +big commercial failure, the outlook for the rice crop--and as the meal +wore on he grew more dreary, and a pessimism that is part of some men's +minds tinged everything he touched. + +"Did Rydal's disappearance affect you at all, personally?" Hartley +asked, with some show of interest. + +"Not personally, but it cost the Bank close upon a quarter of a lakh." +Joicey drummed his square-topped fingers on the table. "I can't imagine +how he managed to get away." + +Hartley frowned. + +"I had all the landing-stages carefully watched, and the plague police +warned. He must have gone before the warrant was out, that is, if he has +ever left the country at all." + +Joicey shrugged his heavy shoulders. + +"In any case, the man's not much use to us, and the money has gone. I'm +not altogether sorry he got away." His eyes grew full of brooding +shadows and he sat silent, still tapping the cloth with his fingers. + +"It's an odd coincidence," said Hartley, and his face grew keen again. +"Mhtoon Pah's boy, Absalom, disappeared that same night. I wish you +could tell me, Joicey, if you saw Heath that evening when you went down +Paradise Street. It was the same evening that the Bank laid their +information against Rydal, the twenty-ninth." + +Joicey had just poured himself out a glass of port, and was raising it +to his lips as Hartley spoke, and the hand that held the glass jerked +slightly, splashing a little of the wine on to the front of his white +shirt. Joicey did not set the glass back on to the table, he held it +between him and the light, and eyed it, or, rather, it should be said +that he watched his own hand, and when he saw that it was quite steady +he set down the wine untasted. + +"Paradise Street? I never go down there. I wasn't in Mangadone that +night," his face was dead white with a sick, leprous whiteness. "If +Heath said he saw me, Heath was wrong." + +"Heath didn't say so," said Hartley. "It was the policeman on duty at +the corner who said that he had seen you." + +"I tell you I wasn't in the place," said Joicey again. + +Hartley coughed awkwardly. + +"Well, if you weren't there, you weren't there," he said, pacifically. + +"And Heath, what did Heath say?" + +"I told you he said nothing, except that he had seen Absalom. I can't +understand this business, Joicey; directly I ask the smallest question +about that infernal night of July the twenty-ninth I am always met in +just the same way." + +"I know nothing about it," said Joicey, shortly. "I wasn't here and I +don't know what Heath was doing, so there's no use asking me questions +about him." + +The Banker relapsed into his former dull apathy, and leaned back in his +chair. + +"I've had insomnia lately," he said, after a perceptible pause. "It +plays the deuce with one's nerves. I believe I need a change. This +cursed country gets into one's bones if one stays out too long. I've +forgotten what England looks like and I've got over the desire to go +back there, and so I rot through the rains and the steam and the tepid +cold weather, and it isn't doing me any good at all." + +They walked into the drawing-room, Hartley with his hand on Joicey's +shoulder. The Banker sat for a little time making a visible effort to +talk easily, but long before his usual hour for leaving he pulled out +his watch and looked at it. + +"It may seem rude to clear off so soon, but I'm tired, Hartley, and +shall be much obliged if I may shout for my carriage." + +He looked tired enough to make any excuse of exhaustion or ill-health +quite a valid one, and Hartley was concerned for his friend. + +"Don't overdo it, Joicey," he said. + +"Overdo what?" + +Joicey got up with the heavy lift of an old, weary man, and yet there +was not two years between him and Hartley. + +"The insomnia," said Hartley. + +"Good night," replied Joicey shortly, and closed the carriage-door +behind him. + +He drove along the dark roads, his arms in the window-straps and his +head bent forward. The head of the Mangadone Banking Firm was suffering, +if not from insomnia, from something that was heavier than the heaviest +night of sleeplessness, and something that was darker than the dark +road, and something that was deep as the brown waters that carried +outgoing craft to sea. + + + + +VI + +TELLS HOW ATKINS EXPLAINS FACTS BY PEOPLE AND NOT PEOPLE BY FACTS, AND +HOW HARTLEY, HEAD OF THE POLICE, SMELLS THE SCENT OF APPLE ORCHARDS +GROWING IN A FOOL'S PARADISE + + +Social life went its way in Mangadone much as it had before the 29th of +July, but Hartley was not allowed to rest and feel comfortable and easy +for very long. Mhtoon Pah waylaid him in the dark when he was riding +home from the Club, and waited for him for hours in his bungalow. Like +his own shadow, Mhtoon Pah followed him and dogged his comings and +goings, always with the same imploring tale, but never with any further +evidence. Leh Shin was officially watched, and Leh Shin's assistant was +also under the paternal eye of authority, but all that authority could +discover about him was that he led a gay life, gambled and drugged +himself, hung about evil houses, and had been seen loitering in the +vicinity of the curio shop; but, as Paradise Street was an open +thoroughfare, he had as much right to be there as any leprous beggar. + +Hartley's peace of mind was soon shattered again, this time by a new +element that Hartley had not thought of, and so he was caught in another +net without any previous warning. + +Atkins, the rector of St. Jude's bungalow companion, was a dry little +man, adhering to simple facts, and neither a sensationalist nor an +alarmist; therefore his words had weight. He was a small man, always +dressed in clothes a little too small, with his whole mind given up to +the subject of his profession; besides which he was religious, a +non-smoker, a teetotaller, and particular upon these points. + +Being but little in the habit of going into Mangadone society, he seldom +met Hartley except at the Club, and it was there that he ran him into a +corner and asked for a word or two in private. Hartley took him out into +the dim green space where basket chairs were set at intervals, and +drawing two well away from the others, sat down to listen. + +Sweet scents were wafted up on the evening air, and drowsy, dark clouds +followed the moonlike heavy wisps of black cotton-wool, drowning the +light from time to time and then clearing off again; and all over the +grass, glimmering groups of men in white clothes and women in trailing +skirts filled the air with an indistinct murmur of sound. + +"It is understood at the outset," began Atkins, clearing his throat with +a crowing sound, "that what I have to say is said strictly in a private +and confidential sense. I only say it because I am driven to do so." + +Hartley's basket chair squeaked as he moved, but he said nothing, and +Atkins dropped his voice into an intimate tone and went on: + +"You came to see Heath one day lately, and I told you he was ill. Well, +so he was, but there are illnesses of the mind as well as of the body, +and Heath was mind-sick. I am a light sleeper, Hartley. I wake at a +sound, and twice lately I have been awakened by sounds." + +"The _Durwan_," suggested Hartley. + +"Not the _Durwan_. If it had been, I would not have spoken to you about +it. Heath has been visited towards morning by a man, and it was the +sound of voices that awoke me. It is no business of mine to pry or to +talk, and I would say nothing if it were not that I admire and respect +Heath, and I believe that he is in some horrible difficulty, out of +which he either will not, or cannot, extricate himself." + +"Who was the man?" + +Atkins ignored the question. + +"I admit that I listened, but I overheard almost nothing, except just +the confused sounds of talking in low voices, but I heard Heath say, 'I +will not endure it, I am bearing too much already.' I think he spoke +more to himself than to the man in his room, but it was a ghastly thing +to hear, as he said it." + +"Go on," said Hartley. "Tell me exactly what happened." + +"I heard the door on to the back veranda open, and I heard the sound of +feet go along it--bare feet, mind you, Hartley--and then I went to +sleep. That was a week ago." + +"And something of the same nature has occurred since?" + +Atkins dried his hands with his handkerchief. + +"I said something to Heath at breakfast about having had a bad night, +and he got up at once and left the table. After that nothing happened +until last night. I had been out all day, and came home dog-tired. I +turned in early and left Heath reading a theological book in the +veranda. I said, I remember, 'I'm absolutely beat, Padré; I have had +enough to-day to give me nine or ten hours without stirring,' and he +looked up and said, 'Don't complain of that, Atkins; there are worse +things than sound sleep.' It struck me then that he hadn't known what it +was for weeks, he looked so gaunt and thin, and I thought again of that +other night that we had neither of us spoken about." + +"Heath never explained anything?" + +"No, I never asked him to." + +"What happened then?" Hartley's voice was hardly above a whisper, and he +leaned close to Atkins to listen. + +"I slept for hours, fairly hogged it until it must have been two or +three in the morning, judging by the light, and then I awoke suddenly, +the way one wakes when there is some noise that is different to usual +noises, and after a moment or two I heard the sound of voices, and I got +out of bed and went very quietly into the veranda. Heath's lamp was +burning, his room is at the far end from mine, and I stood there, +shivering like a leaf out of sheer jumps. I had a regular 'night attack' +feeling over me. I heard a chair pushed back, and I heard Heath say in a +low voice 'If you come here again, or if you dog me again, I'll hand you +over to the police,' and the man laughed. I can't describe his laugh; +it was the most damnable thing I ever listened to, and I thought of +running in, but something stopped me, God knows why. 'Take your pay,' +said Heath; I heard him say it, and then I heard the door open again, +and the same sound of feet." He shivered. "They stopped outside my room, +and I caught the outline of a head, a huge head and enormous, heavy +shoulders, and then he was gone." + +"Why the devil didn't you raise the alarm?" Hartley's voice was angry. +"You've got a policeman on the road. Why didn't you shout?" + +"Because I was thinking of Heath," said Atkins a little stiffly. "He is +the man we have both got to think about. Some devil of a native is +blackmailing him, and Heath is one of the best and straightest men I +know. Not one item of all this mystery goes against him in my mind, but +what I want you to do, is to have the bungalow watched." + +"I shall certainly do that," said Hartley with decision. "And as for +your opinion of Heath--well, it strikes me as curious that a man of good +character should be a mark for blackmail." + +"I explain facts by people, not people by facts," said Atkins hotly. +"And I have told you--" + +"I think it is only fair to say that you have told me something that +lays Heath under suspicion," said Hartley, slowly. "He behaved very +oddly, lately, when I asked him a simple question, and he chose to +refuse to see me when I went to his house. All that was a small matter, +but what you tell me now is serious." + +"Serious for Heath, and for that very reason I particularly want him +protected. But as for suspicion, I know the man thoroughly, and that is +quite absurd." Atkins got up and terminated the interview. "It is absurd +to talk of suspicion," he said again, irritably. "I hope you will drop +that attitude, Hartley. If I had imagined for a moment that you were +likely to adopt it, I should have kept my mouth shut." + +He went away, his narrow shoulders humped, and his whole figure +testifying to his annoyance, and Hartley sat alone, watching the +moonlight and thinking his own thoughts. He was interrupted by a woman's +voice, and Mrs. Wilder sat down in the chair left vacant by Atkins. + +"What are you pondering about, Mr. Hartley? Are you seeing ghosts or +moon spirits? You certainly give the idea that you are immensely +preoccupied." + +"Do I?" Hartley laughed awkwardly. "Well, as a matter of fact, I was not +thinking of anything very pleasant." + +"Can I help?"--her voice was very soft and alluring. + +"No one can, I am afraid." + +She touched his arm with a little intimate gesture, and her eyes shone +in the moonlight. + +"How can you say that? If I were in any sort of fix, or in any sort of +trouble, I would ask you to advise me, and to tell me what to do, before +I would go to anyone else, even Draycott, and why should you leave me +outside your worries?" + +"You see, that's just it, they aren't exactly mine. If they were I +would tell you, but I can't tell you, because what I was thinking about +was connected entirely with someone else." + +Mrs. Wilder's eyes narrowed, and she lifted her slightly pointed nose a +very little. + +"Ah, now you make me inquisitive, and that is most unfair of you. Don't +tell me anything, Mr. Hartley, except just the name of the person +concerned. I'm very safe, as you know. Could you tell me the name, or +would it be wrong of you?" + +"The name won't convey very much to you," said Hartley, laughing. "I was +thinking of the Padré, Heath. That doesn't give you much clue, does it?" + +It was too dark for him to see a look that sprang into Mrs. Wilder's +eyes, or perhaps Hartley might have found a considerable disparity +between her look and her light words. + +"Poor Mr. Heath, he is one of those terribly serious, conscientious +people, who go about life making themselves wretched for the good of +their souls. He ought to have lived in the Middle Ages. I won't ask you +_why_ you are thinking about him"--she got up and lingered a little, and +Hartley rose also--"but you know that you should not think of anyone +unless you want to make others think of them, too; it isn't at all safe. +I shall have to think of Mr. Heath all the way home, and he is _such_ a +gaunt, scraggy kind of thought." + +"I wish I could replace him with myself," said Hartley, in a burst of +admiration. + +Mrs. Wilder accepted his compliment graciously and walked across the +grass to the drive, where her car panted almost noiselessly, as is the +way of good cars, and he put her in with the manner of a jeweller +putting a precious diamond pendant into a case. He watched the car +disappear, and considered that some men are undeservedly lucky in this +life. + +Hartley was nearly forty, that dangerously sentimental age, and he began +to wonder if, by chance, he had met Clarice Wilder years ago in a +Devonshire orchard, life might not have been a wonderful thing. He +called her a "sweet woman" in his mind, and it was almost a pity that +Mrs. Wilder did not know, because her sense of humour was subtle and +acute, and she would have thoroughly enjoyed the description of herself. +She could read Hartley as quickly as she could read the telegrams in the +_Mangadone Times_, and she could play upon him as she played upon her +own grand piano. + +She had not asked any questions, and she knew nothing of what Atkins had +said about Heath; but her face was set and tense as she drove towards +her bungalow. She was certainly thinking very definitely, quite as +definitely as Hartley had been thinking as he watched the moonlight +playing hide-and-seek with the shadows of the palm branches and the +darkness of the trees, and her thoughts left no pleasant look upon her +face or in her eyes; and yet Hartley, on his way to the bungalow where +he lived, was thinking of her in a white dress and a shady hat, with a +fleecy blue and white sky overhead and the scent of apple-blossom in the +air. + +The power of romance is strong in adolescence, but it is stronger still +when the turnstile of years is reached and there is finality in the air. +Hartley was built for platonics; Fate gave him the necessary touch of +the commonplace that dispels romance and replaces it with a kind of +deadly domesticity; and yet Hartley was unaware of the fact. + +He had never thought of being "in love" with Mrs. Wilder, partly because +he felt it would be "no use," and partly because she had never seemed to +expect it from him, but as he walked along the road he began to find +that her manner had of late altered considerably. She seemed to take an +interest in him, and though she had always been his friend, her new +attitude was charged with invisible electricity. + +So far as Mrs. Wilder was concerned, Hartley was to her what a sitting +hen would be to a sporting man. You couldn't shoot the confiding thing; +but you might wring its neck if necessary, or push it out of the way +with an impatient foot. She knew her power over him to a nicety, and she +knew of his secret desire for "situations," because her instinct was +never at fault; but she felt nothing more than contempt, slightly +charged with pity towards him. Hartley was a good-natured, idiotic man, +and Hartley had principles; Clarice Wilder had none herself, though she +felt that they were definite factors in any game, but she also believed +that principles were things that could be got over, or got at, by any +woman who knew enough about life to manage such as Hartley. + +All the same, it was not of Hartley that she thought. She had been quite +truthful when she said that he had suggested Heath to her mind, and +that she would have to consider his gaunt face and hollow cheeks during +her drive. + +If he had sat on the vacant seat beside her, the Rev. Francis Heath +could hardly have been more clearly before her eyes, and could hardly +have drawn her mind more strongly, and it was because of her thought of +him that she preserved her steady look and strange eyes. + +A strong woman, a woman with character, a woman who once she saw her +way, was able to follow it faithfully, wherever it twisted, wherever it +wound, and wherever it eventually brought her. No one could picture her +flinching or turning back along a road she had set out to follow; if it +had run in blood, she would have gone on in bare feet, not picking her +steps, and yet Hartley dreamed of apple orchards and an Eve in a white +muslin dress. + + + + +VII + +FINDS THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH READING GEORGE HERBERT'S POEMS, AND LEAVES +HIM PLEDGED TO A POSSIBLY COMPROMISING SILENCE + + +The Reverend Francis Heath was sitting in his upstairs room, for of late +he had avoided the veranda. It was the leisure hour of the day, the slow +hour when the light wanes and it is too early to call for a lamp; the +hour when memory or fear can both be poignant in tropical climates. + +The house was very still, Atkins had gone to the Club and the servants +had all returned to their own quarters. Outside, noises were many. +Birds, with ugly, tuneless notes that were not songs but cries, flitted +in the trees, and the rumble of traffic on the road came up in the +evening air, broken occasionally by the shrill persistence of an exhaust +whistle or the clamour of a motor-horn, and above all other sounds the +long-drawn, occasional hoot from a ship anchored in the river highway. +There was noise, and to spare, outside, but within everything was still, +except for the chittering of a nest of bats in the eaves, and the +sudden, relaxing creak of bamboo chairs, that behave sometimes as though +ghosts sat restlessly in their arms. + +The sunlight that fell into the garden and caught its green, turning it +into flaming emerald, climbed in at Mr. Heath's window, and lay across +his writing-table; it touched his shoulder and withdrew a little, +touched the lines on his forehead for a moment, touched the open book +before him, and fell away, followed by a shadow that grew deeper as it +passed. It faded out of the garden like a memory that cannot be held +back by human striving. The distances turned into shadowy blue, and from +blue to purple, until only a few flecks of golden light across the +pearl-silver told that it was gone eternally; that its hour was spent, +for good or ill, and that Mangadone had come one evening nearer to the +end of measureless Time; but the Rev. Francis Heath did not regard its +going. His face was sad with a terrible, tragic sadness that is the +sadness of life and not death, and yet it was of death and not of life +that he thought. A little book of George Herbert's poems lay open before +him and he had been reading it with a scholar's love of quaint +phraseology: + + "I made a posy, while the days ran by; + Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie + My life within this band. + But Time did beckon to the flowers, and they, + By noon, most cunningly did steal away, + And wither'd in my hand." + +He read the lines over and over again, and gave a deep, heart-broken +sigh, bending his face between his hands, and bowing his shoulders as +though under a heavy weight. His gaunt frame was thin and spare, his +black alpaca coat hung on it like a sack, and his whole attitude spoke +of sorrow. He might have been the presentment of an unwilling ghost, who +stood with the Ferryman's farthing under his palm, waiting to be taken +across the cheerless, dark waters to a limbo of drifting souls. He took +his hands from before his face and clasped them over the book, looking +out of the window to the evening shadows, as if he tried to find peace +in the very act of contemplation. + +The sad things he came in daily contact with had conquered his faith in +life, though they had not succeeded in killing his trust in God's +eventual plan of redemption; and his mind wandered in terrible places, +places he had forced his way into, places he could never forget. He +suffered from all a reformer's agony, an agony that is the small +reflection of the great story of the mystic burden heavy as the sins of +the whole world, and he tried, out of the simple, childlike fancy of the +words he read, to grasp at a better mind. + +Heath was one of those men who could not understand effortless faith; he +was crushed by his own lack of success, and bowed down by his own +failure. Since he could not rout the enemy single-handed, he believed +that the battle was against the Hosts of the Lord. He knew no leisure +from the war of his own thoughts, and as he clasped his hands, his face +grew tense and set, and his eyes haggard and terrible. For a moment he +sat very still, and his eyes followed the lines written by a man who had +the faith of a little child: + + "But Time did beckon to the flowers, and they, + By noon, most cunningly did steal away." + +Heath had never gathered flowers, either as a lesson to himself or a +gift for others; they hardly spoke of careless beauty to him, they were +emblems of lightness and thoughtlessness, and Heath had no time to stop +and consider the lilies of the field. + +He moved suddenly like a man who is awakened from a thought heavier than +sleep, and listened with a hunted look, the look of a man who is afraid +of footsteps; he stood up, gathering his loose limbs together and +watching the door. Steps came up the staircase, steps that stumbled a +little, and if Heath had possessed Mhtoon Pah's art of reading the walk +of his fellow creatures, he would have known that he might expect a +woman and not a man. + +"Mr. Heath," a low voice called in the passage, and Heath's tension +relaxed, giving place to surprise. + +The voice was strange to him, and he passed his handkerchief over his +face and walked to the door, just as his name was called again, in the +same low, penetrating voice. + +"Who wants me?" he asked, almost roughly, and then he saw a tall, dark +woman standing at the top of the staircase. + +"Mrs. Wilder," he said in surprise, and she made a little imperious +movement with her hand. + +"I did not call your servant, I came up, because I wanted to find you +alone. You are alone?" + +"Certainly, I am alone." + +"May I come in?" + +Heath held the door open for her to pass, and she walked in, looking +around the darkening room with hard, curious eyes. + +She took the chair he gave her, in silence, and sat down near the +writing-table, and, feeling that she would speak after a time, Heath +took his own place again and waited. + +"I hardly know where to begin," she said, always speaking in the same +low, intent voice. "Do you recall the evening of the twenty-ninth?" + +An odd spasm caught Heath's face, and he paused for a moment before he +answered. + +"I do recall it." + +"Perhaps you remember seeing me? I was riding along the road when I +first passed you, and you were walking." + +"I remember that I did pass you then, and also that I saw you later." + +Heath's sombre eyes were on her face, and his fingers touched a gold +cross that hung from his watch-chain. + +"You passed me, and you passed Absalom, the Christian boy, and you have +been questioned about Absalom." + +"I have," he said heavily. "Why do you ask?" + +Mrs. Wilder took a quick breath. + +"Because I am afraid that you may be asked again. You understand, Mr. +Heath, that I know it was the merest chance that brought you there that +evening, but, as you were there, and as Mr. Hartley has got it into his +head that you know something more than you have told him, I beg of you +to bear in mind that if you mention my name you may get me into serious +trouble. You would not do that willingly, I think?" + +"I certainly would not. What motive took you there is a question for +your own conscience. It is not for me to press that question, Mrs. +Wilder." + +She pressed her lips together tightly. + +"I went there to see an old friend who was in great trouble." + +"And yet you have to keep it secret?" + +"Haven't we all our secrets, Mr. Heath?" Her voice was raised a little. +"Will you pledge me your solemn word to keep this knowledge from anyone +who asks?" She put her elbows on the table and drew closer to him. + +"I will respect your confidence," he said slowly. "But is it likely that +Hartley will ask me?" + +Mrs. Wilder made a gesture of denial. + +"I _think_ not, but who can tell? This thing has been like lead on my +mind and will not let me rest. Oh, Mr. Heath, if you knew what I have +already paid, you would be sorry for me." + +"I am sorry," he said gently. "More sorry for you than you can tell. +You, too, saw Absalom, and spoke to him?" + +"He has nothing to do with what I came here about,"--her tone grew +impatient. "I only wanted to make sure that I was safe with you. It was +no little thing that drove me to come. I am a proud woman, Mr. Heath, +and I do not usually ask favours, yet I ask you now--" + +"Not a favour," he said, taking her up quickly. "God knows I have every +reason to help you if I can. Does Hartley suspect you? Does he question +you? Does he try to wring admissions out of you?" + +In the darkness Heath's voice rang hard and, metallic, like the voice of +a man whose thoughts return upon something that maddens him. + +"He has not done so, but he has asked me questions that made me +frightened. It is a terrible thing to be afraid." + +"And Joicey?" said Heath in a quiet voice. "I saw Joicey, but he did not +stop to speak to me. Has he, too, been interrogated?" + +"So far as I know, he has not. But this question presses only on me. +What took you there is, I feel sure, easily accounted for, and what took +Mr. Joicey there is not likely to be a matter of the smallest +importance; it is _I_ who suffer, it is on me that all this weight lies. +If the police begin investigations they come close upon the fact that I +went there to meet a man whom my husband has forbidden me to meet. Any +little turn of evidence that involves me, any little accident that +obliges me to admit it, and I am lost,"--her voice thrilled and pleaded. + +"It is you who are lost," he echoed dully. "I can understand how you +feel. If I can ease your burden or lessen the anxiety you suffer from, +you may depend upon me, Mrs. Wilder. This matter is a dark road where I, +too, walk blind, not knowing the path I follow, but, at least, I can +give you my word that under no circumstances shall I be led to mention +your name. You can be sure of that, Mrs. Wilder. If I can add your +trouble to my own burden I shall not feel its weight, but I would +counsel you to be honest with your husband. Tell him the truth." + +"I will," said Mrs. Wilder, with an acquiescence that came too quickly. +"I assure you that I will, but even when I do, you see what a position +the least publicity places me in?" + +Heath got up and paced the floor with long, restless strides. + +"Publicity. The open avowal of a hidden thing; the knowledge that the +whole world judges and condemns, and does not understand." + +"That is what I feel." + +After all, he was more human than she had expected. Clarice Wilder had +looked upon the Rev. Francis as a hermit, an ascetic, whose +comprehension was limited; and her eyes grew keen as she watched his +gaunt figure. + +"To be dragged down, to be accused, to be cast so low," he continued, in +his sad, heavy voice, "so low that the lowest have cause to deride and +to scorn." He stopped before her. "Is it true that I can save you from +that?" + +"It is true." + +She did not tell him that she had lied to Draycott; it did not appear +necessary; neither did she tell him that Draycott's memory was long and +sure and unerring. + +"Then, if there is one man in all God's universe,"--Heath cast out his +arms as he spoke--"one man above all others whom you could appeal to, +could trust most entirely, that man is myself. Give me your burden, your +distress of mind, and I will take them; I cannot say more--" + +"Of course, it may never be necessary for you to--to avoid telling Mr. +Hartley," broke in Mrs. Wilder quickly. Heath was getting on her nerves, +and she rose to her feet. "I cannot thank you sufficiently, and I fear +that I have upset you, made you feel my own cares too profoundly,"--her +voice grew almost tender. "I have never known such ready sympathy, but +you feel too intensely, Mr. Heath. You make my little trouble your own, +and you have made me very grateful. Are you in any trouble yourself?" + +Heath stopped for a moment, an outline against the light of the window. +She thought he was going to speak, and she waited with an odd feeling of +excitement to hear what was coming, when he suddenly retired back into +his usual manner. + +A light was travelling up the staircase, casting great shadows before +it, and when the boy came to the door of the Padré Sahib's room, he saw +his master saying good-bye to a tall, dark lady who smiled at him and +gave him her hand. + +"Good night, Mr. Heath, I hardly know how to thank you sufficiently." + +She hurried down the staircase, and as she walked out, she met Atkins +coming in on his bicycle. He jumped off as he saw her, and spoke in +surprise. + +"I have just been calling on the Padré," replied Mrs. Wilder pleasantly, +as he commented with ever-ready tactlessness upon her presence in the +Compound. "One of my servants is ill; a member of his community. By the +way, do you think that Mr. Heath is quite well himself?" + +"Indeed I do not think so. He overworks. I have a great admiration for +Heath." + +"He must be rather depressing in the rains," she said, with a careless +laugh. "He positively gave me the shivers. I can hardly envy you boxed +up there with him. I believe he sees ghosts, and I think they must be +horrid ghosts or he couldn't look as he does." + +Her car was waiting down the road, and Atkins walked beside her and saw +her get in. Mrs. Wilder was very charming to him; she leaned out and +smiled at him again. + +"Do take care of the Padré," she called as she drove off. + +"There goes a sensible, good-looking woman," thought Atkins, and he +thought highly of Mrs. Wilder for her visit to Heath. He said so to the +Rector of St. Jude's as they dined together, remarking on the fact that +very few women bothered about sick servants, and he was surprised at the +cold lack of enthusiasm with which Heath accepted his remark. + +"That was what she said?" + +"Yes, and I call it unusual in a country where servants are treated like +machines. I've never known Mrs. Wilder very well, but she is an +interesting woman; don't you think so, Heath?" + +"I don't know," said Heath absently. "I never form definite opinions +about people on a slight knowledge of them." + +Atkins felt snubbed, but he only laughed good-naturedly, and Heath +relapsed into silence. + +Mrs. Wilder was dining out that night, and she looked so superbly +handsome and so defiantly well that everyone remarked upon her; and even +Draycott Wilder, who might have been supposed to be used to her beauty +and her wit, watched her with his slow, following look. Hartley was not +at the dinner-party, but afterwards echoes of its success reached him, +and a description of Mrs. Wilder herself that thrilled his romantic +sense as he listened. + +Hartley was worried about the Padré, and he had warned the policeman to +watch the Compound at night; but all the watching in the world did not +explain the cause of these visits. There was a connection somewhere and +somehow between Heath and the missing Absalom, and Hartley wondered if +he could venture to speak to Mrs. Wilder again about the night of the +29th of July, and implore her to let him know if she had seen Heath with +Absalom. + +It seemed, judging by what Atkins had heard, that Heath was paying for +silence, and Hartley disliked the idea of working up evidence against +the Padré. The more he thought of it the less he liked it, and yet his +duty and his sense of responsibility would not let him rest. Mrs. Wilder +had said that she had seen Heath and Absalom, and had then refused to +say anything more, but Hartley saw in her reserve a suggestion of +further knowledge that could not be ignored or denied. + +Mhtoon Pah was quieter for the moment. He believed that Leh Shin was +being cautiously tracked, and the pointing image had held no further +traces of bloodshed upon his yellow hands. Hartley had grown to loathe +the grinning figure, and to loathe the whole tedious, difficult tragedy +of the lost boy. If it had lain in the native quarter he could have +found interest in the excitement of the chase, but if it ramified into +the Cantonment, Hartley had no mind for it. He was a man first, a +sociable, kindly man, and, later, an officer of the law. + + + + +VIII + +SHOWS HOW THE CLOAK OF DARKNESS OF ONE NIGHT HIDES MANY EMOTIONS, AND +MRS. WILDER IS FRANKLY INQUISITIVE + + +Darkness brooded everywhere, but the gloom of night is a darkness that +is impenetrable only to our eyes because we creatures of the hard glare +of daylight cannot see in the strange clearness that brings out the +stars. Only in the houses of men real darkness has its habitation. Under +close roofs, confined within walls, shut into rooms, and lurking in +corners: there, darkness may be found, and because man made it, it has +its own special terror, as have all the creatures of man's hand. Dark, +menacing and noiseless, the shadows flock in as daylight wanes, filing +up like heavy thoughts and sad thoughts, and casting a gloom with their +coming that is not the blackness of earth's restful night. + +Mrs. Wilder paced her room with the steps of a woman whose heart drives +sleep out with scorpion-whips of memory; and she went softly, for sound +travels far at night, and Draycott Wilder, in the next room, was a light +sleeper. She was thinking steadily, and she was trying to force her will +across the distance into the stronghold of Hartley's inner +consciousness. + +Night brought no more rest to Mrs. Draycott Wilder than it did to Craven +Joicey, the Banker, but Joicey did not sit in the dark. Madness lies in +the dark for some minds, and he had turned on the electric light, that +showed his face yellow and weary. On the wall the lizards, awakened by +the sudden glare, resumed their fly-catching, and scuttled with a dry, +scurrying sound over the walls, breaking the silence with a perpetual +"chuck-chuck" as they chased each other. Joicey looked as though he was +dreaming evil dreams, and nothing of his surroundings was real to him. +The room became another room, the tables and chairs grew indistinct, the +face of a small _Gaudama_ on the mantel-piece became a living face that +menaced him, and the "chuck-chuck" of the lizards, the rattle of dice +falling on to a board at some remote distance miles and miles away, and +yet strangely audible to his dull ears. Still he sat there, and flashes +of fancies came and went. Sometimes he stood in an English garden, with +a far-away sunlit glimpse of glittering waters, and a cuckoo crying in a +wood of waving trees, and then he knew that he was a boy, and that he +had forgotten everything that had happened since; and then, without +warning, he was swept out of the garden and stood under Eastern trees, +lost in a wild place, with the haunting face of the image at his +shoulder. The face altered. Sometimes it was Mhtoon Pah's pointing man, +and what he pointed at was never clear. The mistiness bothered him +horribly. + +The _Durwan_ outside played on a wistful little flute, thinking that his +master was asleep; he heard it, and it did not concern him; he was dead +to all outward things just then, and the flute only added to the mystery +of the dream that spun itself in his brain. He wandered in a place so +near actual things and yet so far from them, that the gigantic mistake +of it all, and the consciousness that the inner life could at times +conquer the outer life, made him fall away between the two conditions, +lost and helpless. His head nodded forward, and his lower lip dropped, +and yet his eyes were open, as he sat facing the small squatting Buddha, +whose changeless face changed only for him. + +The three little flute-notes tripped out after each other with no +semblance at a tune, repeating and reiterating the sound in the dark +outside, and Joicey listened as though something of weight depended upon +his hearing steadily. The sound was the one thing that made him know +that he was real, and once it ceased, or he ceased to hear it, he would +be across the gulf and terribly lost; a mind without a body, let loose +in a world where there were no landmarks, no known roads, nothing but +windy space, and he was afraid of that place, and feared terribly to go +there. + +Something shuffled on the stone veranda, another sound, and sound was of +value to Craven Joicey, since it made a vital note in the circling +numbness around him. He could hear whispering voices, and the thump of +the _Durwan's_ stick, as that musically-minded man walked round to the +back of the house, where his lighted window showed that Craven Joicey +did not sleep. Again a voice whispered, and a low sound of discreet +knocking followed. + +Joicey sprang up and called out hoarsely: + +"Who is it?" + +"Sahib, Sahib"--the _Durwan's_ whine was apologetic. "Is the Sahib +awake?" + +"Who wants me?" + +"Leh Shin, the Chinaman." + +Joicey wiped his face with his handkerchief and pulled open the door +with a violent movement. + +"Come in," he said, trying to speak naturally. "What is it, Leh Shin?" + +The Chinaman held a tweed hat in his hand and stole into the room like a +shadow. + +"What now, Leh Shin?" + +Joicey spoke in Yunnanese with the fluency of long habit, and even +though he was angry he kept his voice low as though he feared to be +overheard. + +"The Master of Masters will speak for me," said the Chinaman, standing +before him. "All day the police stand near to my house, and at night +they do not leave it. At one word from the Master, whose speech is +constructed of gold and precious metals, they can be withdrawn, and for +that word I wait--" He made a quick gesture with his tweed cap. + +"You will gain nothing by coming to my house, you swine," said Joicey, +his eyes staring and his veins standing out on his forehead. "I will see +what Mr. Hartley will do, but if you drag in my name or refer him to me +you will do yourself no good, do you hear? No good." + +Leh Shin watched him passively and waited until he had finished. + +"I will swear the oath," he said, blinking his eyes. "I will not speak +the name of the Master, but my doors are locked, my house is a house for +the water-rats, and until the big Lord frees me I am a poor man." + +Joicey sat down heavily on a low chair. + +"It shall be stopped," he said desperately. "I will see that there is no +more of this police supervision; you may take my word for it." + +The Chinaman stood still, moving one foot to the other. + +"In dreams the Master has spoken these promises to me before. Can I be +sure that it is not in a dream that the Master speaks again?" + +"I am awake," said Joicey, bitterly. "Mr. Hartley is looking for the +boy, and if the boy were found, all search would stop,"--he eyed the +Chinaman carefully, but the mask-like face did not change. + +"And the little boy? Perhaps, Ruler and King, the little boy is gone +dead." + +"You ask me _that_, you devil?" + +"It is for the servant to ask," said Leh Shin, dropping his lids for a +second. + +"Now, get out," said Joicey, between his clenched teeth. "And if you +come here to me again, at night, I'll kill you." + +"The Great One will not do that," said Leh Shin, placidly. "My +assistant waits for me. It would be known as fire is known when the +forest is dry. To-morrow or next day, if the police are gone, my little +house will be open again." He spoke the words with deep emphasis. + +"Get out," said Joicey, turning away his head. + +Leh Shin looked at him with a sudden, oblique glance like the flash of a +knife. + +"Speak no more, Lord of men and elephants; the _Durwan_ is now outside +the door, and he listens." + +"Good-night," said Joicey loudly, and he clicked off the light and went +to bed. + +If the darkness was close in the large houses of the Cantonment, it was +shut into the very essence of itself in the curio shop in Paradise +Street. It hid the carved devils from one another, it obliterated the +stone monsters that no one ever bought, and which had grown to belong to +the shop itself; it dropped its black veil over the green dragons, and +the china ladies, and the silver bowls and the little ivories, hiding +everything out of sight; but it did not hide the figure outside in the +street. The little man, with his pointed headdress and short jacket, had +the clear darkness all to himself. He was just as polite by night as he +was by day, and he bowed and ushered imaginary buyers up the stone steps +with the same perpetual civility, and the same unceasing smile, that +bagged out his varnished cheeks into joviality. + +Dark as it was inside the shop, it must have been darker along the +rat-burrows of stairs, and the loft-like rooms near the roof, but either +up above or down below, the scent of cassia and sandal-wood clung +everywhere inside the curio shop, smelling strongest around the glass +cases and bales of delicate silks. + +Mhtoon Pah's _Durwan_ slept across the doorway, and was therefore the +only object for the attention of the little man, and likewise, +therefore, he did not point to his master, who came in, in the dead, +heavy hours before dawn. He could not have been far; there was hardly +any dust on his red velvet slippers, and he brushed what there was from +them with a careful hand. As he placed his lamp on the floor, the light +threw odd shadows up the walls, turning that of Mhtoon Pah himself into +a grotesque and gigantic mass of darkness, and when he stooped and stood +erect it jumped with a sudden living spring. + +Mhtoon Pah moved about the shop on light feet. He bent here and there to +examine some of the objects closely, with the manner and gesture of a +man who loves beautiful things for their own sakes as well as for the +profit he hoped to gain from their sale. When he had twice made a tour +of inspection, he placed an alabaster Buddha in the centre of a carved +table and sat down before it. The Buddha was dead white, with a red +chain around his neck, and on his head a gold cap with long, gem-set +ears hanging to the shoulders, and Mhtoon Pah sat long in front of the +figure, swaying a little and moving his lips soundlessly. He appeared +like a man who is self-mesmerized by the flame of a candle, and his face +worked with suppressed and violent emotion; at any moment it seemed as +though he might break the silence with some awful, passion-tossed +sound. + +Suddenly, he stopped in his voiceless worship, and, leaning forward +quickly, extinguished the lamp. If he had heard any sound, it was +apparently from below, for he crouched on the ground with his head close +to the teak boarding, and crawled with slow, noiseless care towards the +door. A silk curtain covered the window, hiding the interior of the shop +from the street, and, when he reached the low woodwork above which it +hung, he twitched the curtain back with a sudden movement of his hand +and raised himself slowly until his head was on a level with the glass. + +Mhtoon Pah grew suddenly rigid, and the thick black hair on his head +seemed to bristle. Pressed close against the window, with only a slender +barrier of glass between them, was the face of Leh Shin, the Chinaman. A +ray of white moonlight fell across them both, and its clear radiance +lighted up every feature of the curio dealer's face, changing its brown +into a strange, ghastly pallor. For a moment they stood immovable, +staring into each other's eyes, and the shadows behind Mhtoon Pah in the +shop, and the shadows behind Leh Shin in the street, seemed to listen +and wait with them, seemed to creep closer and enfold them, seemed to +draw up and up on noiseless feet and hang suspended around them. The +moment might have endured for years, so full was it of menace and +passion, and then the man outside moved quickly and the moonlight +flooded in across the face and shoulders of the Burman. + +For a second longer he remained as though fascinated, and then Mhtoon +Pah wrenched at the door and thundered back the heavy bolts. There were +flecks of foam on his lips, and his eyes rolled as he dashed through the +door and out down the steps, rending the air with cries of murder. He +was too late, the Chinaman had gone. When the street flocked out to see +what the disturbance meant, Mhtoon Pah was crouching on his steps in a +kind of fit. + +"I have seen the face of the slayer of Absalom," he shrieked, when the +crowd had carried him in, and recovered him to his senses. + +"Is he a devil?" asked a young Burman, in tones of joyful excitement. "A +devil with iron claws has been seen several nights lately." + +"A Chinese devil," groaned Mhtoon Pah, speaking through his clenched +teeth. "One who shall yet be hanged for his crime." + +"Ah! ah!" said the watchers. "He dreams that it is a man, but it is +known that a devil has walked in Paradise Street, his jaws open. +Certainly he has eaten little Absalom." + +Dawn was breaking, the pale, still hour that is often the hour of death; +and a cool breeze rippled in the date palms and in the flat green leaves +of the rubber plants, and the festoons of succulent green growths that +climbed up the houses of the Cantonments, and dawn found the Rev. +Francis Heath sleeping quietly. He was lying with one arm under his +head, and his worn face in almost child-like repose. Wherever he was, +sleep had carried him to a place of peace and refreshment. When he awoke +he would have forgotten his dream, but for the moment the dream +sufficed, and he rested in the circle of its charm. + +All the time that we are young and careless and happy, we are building +retreats for memory that make harbours of rest in later years, when the +storms come with force. All the old things that did not count, come back +to calm and to restore. The school-room, where the light flickered on a +special corner of the ceiling, telling the children to come out and +play; the tapping of the laurels outside the church windows, and the +musty smell of red rep cushions along the pew where the hours were very +slow in passing; the white clover in the field behind the garden, got at +easily through a hole in the privet hedge. The play of light and shadow +over the hills of home, the dusk at nightfall, and the homely cawing of +rooks. All the delicious things that went with the smell of ripe +strawberries under nets, where thieving birds fluttered until the +gardener let them free again; and the mystery of sparks flying up the +chimney when the winter logs blazed. Every simple joy is stored away in +some lumber corner of the minds of men, and when sleep comes, sometimes +the old things are taken out again. + +The Rev. Francis Heath, like the rest of the world, had his own secret +doorway that led back to wonderland, and it may have been that he was +far away from Mangadone in this child-world which is so hard to find +again, as he slept, and the outside world grew from grey to green, and +from green to misty gold. The sunlight flamed on the spire of the +Pagoda, it danced up the brown river and threw long shadows before its +coming, those translucent shadows that no artist has ever yet been able +to paint. It turned the mohur trees blood-red, and the grass to shining +emerald green, and Mangadone looked as though it had just come fresh +from the hands of its Creator. + +Mhtoon Pah, recovered from his fit, was in his shop early, and he +himself went out to cleanse the effigy outside with a white duster, and +to set his wares in order. It was a good day for sales, as a liner had +come in and brought with it many rich Americans, and Mhtoon Pah was glad +to sell to such as they. His stock-in-trade was beautiful and +attractive, and in the centre of the table, where the unset stones +glittered and shone on white velvet, there stood a bowl, a gold lacquer +bowl of perfect symmetry and very great beauty. He poised it on his +hands once or twice and examined it carefully. As it was already sold it +was not to remain in the curio shop, but Mhtoon Pah was a careful man, +and he desired that Mrs. Wilder should fetch it herself; besides, he +liked her car to stand outside his shop, and he liked her to come in and +look at his goods. Very few people who came in to look, went away +without having bought several things they did not in the least want. +Mhtoon Pah knew exactly how to lure by influence, and he knew that Mrs. +Wilder could no more turn away from a grey-and-pink shot silk than Eve +could refuse the forbidden fruit. + +He spread out a sea-blue Mandarin's coat, embroidered with peaches, and +small, crafty touches of black here and there, and looked at it with the +loving eye of a connoisseur. His whole shop was a fountain of colour, +and he was not unworthy of it in his silk petticoat. A ray of sunlight +fell in through the door and touched a few threads of gold in the coat +as Mhtoon Pah hung it up to good advantage, and turned to see a customer +come in. It was the Rev. Francis Heath; and Mhtoon Pah's face fell. +"Reverends" were not good buyers, specially when they had not any wives, +and Mr. Heath took no notice of the attractive display as he stood, +black and forbidding, in the centre of the shop. + +"I have come here, Mhtoon Pah, to ask for news of Absalom," he said, +meeting his eyes forcefully. "Where is he?" + +Mhtoon Pah bowed low, as befitted the dignity of his guest, who was, +after all, a _Hypongyi_, even though he wore no yellow robes. + +"It is unknown," he said, in a heavy voice. "The Reverend himself might +know, since the Reverend saw my little Absalom that night." + +"You _must_ have suspicions?" + +Mhtoon Pah's face worked violently. + +"Leh Shin," he whispered. "Look there for what is left." + +Heath retreated before his fury. + +"You yourself sent the boy there." + +"_Wah! Wah!_ I sent him and he did not return." + +"What are you talking about?" said the fresh, gay voice of Mrs. Wilder. +"Where is my lacquer bowl, Mhtoon Pah?" She came in, bright as the +morning outside, and smiled at the Rev. Francis Heath. "So you have got +it for me." + +"I did not get it, Lady Sahib," said Mhtoon Pah. "It came here, how I +know not. I found it outside my shop in the care of the wooden image +when I went to dust his limbs this morning." + +Mrs. Wilder laughed. + +"In that case I shall not have to pay for it. But what do you mean, +Mhtoon Pah?" + +"It is blood money," said Mhtoon Pah, with a wild gasp. "Only one man +knew of the bowl, only one man could have put it there. I shall tell +Hartley Sahib; the _Thakin_ will strike surely and swiftly." + +"He will do nothing of the kind," said Mrs. Wilder, with a quick look at +Heath. "Give me my bowl, Mhtoon Pah; you are letting yourself dream +foolish things. Absalom"--she tapped the polished floor with her +well-shaped foot--"will come back and explain everything himself, and +then--whoever is responsible--will bear the penalty." + +"They have tied his head to his elbows, and set snakes to sting him," +said Mhtoon Pah. "This have they done, and worse things, Lady Sahib." + +Mrs. Wilder shivered. + +"Give me my bowl, you horrible old man. Absalom is blacking boots in a +New York hotel, weeks ago.--Ah! what a coat! Are you buying anything, +Mr. Heath?" + +"I am going to the school," he answered slowly. + +"Then let me drive you there. Send me up the Mandarin's coat, Mhtoon +Pah, and I will haggle another day." + +Heath followed her reluctantly down the steps. He wished she had not +made a point of taking him in her motor, but he felt instinctively sorry +for her, which fact, had she known it, would have surprised and +affronted her. + +"Will you come and dine with us one night?" she asked, looking at him +with her fine eyes; "it would give us great pleasure, and I do not think +you have met my husband." + +"I rarely do dine out," said Heath, staring before him as the car backed +round in the limited space of Paradise Street. + +"Then make this an exception. I won't ask you to a function, just a +quiet little family party." + +"You are very kind." + +He was still abstracted, and hardly seemed to hear her, and, when he got +out and shut the door, she leaned from the window, smiling like weary +royalty. + +"I will write and arrange an evening later on. It is a promise, Mr. +Heath." + +"I will come," he replied, in the same preoccupied voice, as he raised +his battered _topi_. + +"What has he been doing?" she asked herself, in surprise, and again and +again she put the same question to herself, not only that morning, but +often, later on, and with ever-increasing curiosity. + + + + +IX + +MRS. WILDER IS PRESENTED IN A MELTING MOOD, AND DRAYCOTT WILDER IS +FORCED TO RECALL THE LINES COMMENCING "A FOOL THERE WAS" + + +It was a bright morning with a high wind blowing and a breath of +freshness in the air that has a charm to inspire a better outlook upon +life. Everywhere it made itself felt in Mangadone, and like Pippa in the +poem, the wind passed along, leaving everything and everybody a little +better for its coming. It passed through the open veranda of the huge +hospital, and touched the fever patients with its cool breath; it +hurried through the Chinese quarter, blew along Paradise Street, dusting +the gesticulating man, and went on up the river, pretending to make the +brown water change its muddy mind and run backwards instead of forwards. +It paid a little freakish attention to Mrs. Wilder's dark hair, and it +cooled the back of Hartley's neck, as they rode along together, by the +way of a lake. + +They had met quite accidentally, and Hartley, who had been vaguely +wishing for an opportunity to speak to Mrs. Wilder, seized upon it and +offered himself as her escort. She agreed with complimentary readiness, +and they turned along a wooded road, where the shadows were deep and +where Hartley felt the gripping hands of romance loosen his +heart-strings. + +Mrs. Wilder listened to him, or appeared to do so, which is much the +same in effect, and Hartley was not critical. She was a good listener, +as women who have something else to think about often are; and so they +rode along the twisting path, and the wind sang in the plumes of the +bamboo trees, and Hartley believed that it sang a romantic lyric of +platonic admiration, exquisitely hinted at by a tactful man, and +properly appreciated by a very beautiful woman. + +"By the way," she said carelessly, "have you found that wretched little +Absalom yet? What a bother he has been since he took it into his head to +go off to America, or wherever it is he went to." + +"I am glad you mentioned him," said Hartley, his face growing suddenly +serious. "I have a question or two that I want very much to ask you." + +"A question or two? That sounds so very legal. Really, Mr. Hartley, I +believe you credit me with having Absalom's body hanging up in one of my +_almirahs_. Honestly, don't you really believe that I had a hand in +putting him out of the way?" + +She laughed her hard little laugh, and shot a look at him over her +shoulder. + +"You do know something, some little thing it may be, but something that +might help me." + +"About Absalom, or about someone else?" + +"About whoever you saw him with." + +Hartley pushed his pony alongside of hers, but her face revealed +nothing, and was quite expressionless. + +"Whoever I saw him with?" she echoed reflectively. "Ah, but it is so +long ago, Mr. Hartley, I can't even remember now whether I was out or +not that evening." + +"You are only playing with me," said Hartley a little irritably. "The +policeman on duty at the cross-roads below Paradise Street saw you." + +Her face became suddenly so drawn and startled that Hartley regretted +his words almost as he spoke them. + +"Wait a minute, Mr. Hartley," she said, in a strained, hard voice. "You +have to explain to me why you have asked your men questions connected +with me." + +"I did not ask questions; I was told." + +She pulled up her pony, and, turning her head away from him, looked out +silently over the dip of ground below them. Hartley did not break her +silence. He saw that he had come close to some deep emotion, and he +watched her curiously, but Mrs. Wilder, even if she was conscious of his +look, appeared quite indifferent to it. He could form no idea along what +road her silent concentration led her; but he knew that she pursued an +idea that was compelling and strong. He knew enough of her to know that +even her silence was not the silence that arises out of lack of subject +for talk, but that it meant something as definite and clear as though +she spoke direct words to him. + +The Head of the Police would have given much at that moment to have +been able to penetrate her thoughts, but he only stared at her with his +blue eyes a little wider open than usual, and waited for her to speak. +She looked before her steadily, but not with the eyes of a woman who +dreams; Mrs. Wilder was thinking definitely, and while Hartley waited, +her mind travelled at speed across years and came to a halt at the +moment where she now found herself, and from that moment she looked out +forcefully into the future. + +Usually, in the tragic instants of life there is very little time for +thought before the need for action forces the will, with relentless +hands. Clarice Wilder knew as well as she knew anything that her +position was one of some peril, and that much more than she could weigh +or measure at that moment lay beyond the next spoken word. She was +telling herself to be careful, steadying her nerve and reining in a +desire to pour out a flood of circumstantial evidence, calculated to +convince the Head of the Police. + +If there is one thing more than another that the man or the woman driven +against the ropes should avoid, it is prolixity; the snare that catches +craft in its own net. Clarice Wilder desired to be overpowering, +redundant and extreme in the wordy proof of her innocence of purpose +that evening of July the 29th, but she held back and waited steadfastly +until she was quite sure of herself again, and then she turned her head +and glanced at Hartley with a smile. + +"How silent you are," she said gently. + +Hartley flushed and looked self-conscious. + +"To be quite candid, that was what I was thinking of you," he replied +awkwardly. + +"What were we saying?" went on Mrs. Wilder. "Oh, of course, I remember. +You thought I could tell you something about poor Mr. Heath, didn't you? +I only wish I could, but it was so long ago. I do remember the evening. +It was very hot and I rode along by the river to get some fresh air," +her eyes grew hazy. "I can remember thinking that Mangadone looked as if +it was a great ball of amber, with the sun shining through it, but as +for being able to tell you what Mr. Heath was doing, or who he was with, +it is impossible. You should have pinned me down to it the day you +called on me, when this troublesome little boy first went off." She +gathered up the reins, and Hartley mounted reluctantly. "I am so sorry. +I would love to be able to help you, but I cannot remember." + +If Hartley had been asked on oath how it was that Mrs. Wilder had led +him clean away from the subject under discussion, to something +infinitely more satisfying and interesting, he could not have sworn to +it. They loitered by the road and came slowly back to the bungalow, +where they parted at the gate, and he watched her go in, hoping she +might turn her head, but she did not, and Hartley took his way towards +his own house and thought very little of Absalom or the Rev. Francis +Heath. One thing he did think of, and that was that Mrs. Wilder had +looked at him earnestly, and said that she wished he was not "mixed up" +in anything likely to bring uneasiness to the mind of the Rector of St. +Jude's Church. "Mixed up" was a curious way of expressing his connection +with the case, but Hartley felt that he knew what she meant. He pulled +at his short moustache and wished with all his heart that he really did +know; but all the wishes in the world could not help him out of a +professional dilemma. + +Mrs. Wilder had not looked round, though she very well knew that Hartley +was waiting and hoping that she would, and once she had turned the first +bend she touched the pony with her heel and cantered up the hill, +throwing the reins to the _syce_ who came in answer to her impatient +call. + +"Idiot," she said, as she shut the door of her room and flung her _topi_ +on the bed, and she repeated the word several times with increasing +animosity and vigour. She hated Hartley at that moment, and felt under +no further obligation to hide her real feelings; and then Mrs. Wilder +sat down and thought hard. + +The mental power of exaggerating danger is limitless, and she could not +deny that her fear was playing tricks with her nerves. She knew that she +had done creditably under the strain of acute nervous tension, but she +felt also that much more of the same thing would be unendurable. + +Draycott came in to luncheon, and she was there to receive him, but even +to his careless eye, Clarice was oddly abstracted, and he glanced at her +curiously, wondering what it was that occupied her mind and made her +frown as she thought. + +She could not get away from the grip of her morning interview. Try as +she would, she could not shake it off. It caught her back in the middle +of her talk, made her answer at random, and held her with a terrible +power. She considered that there were a thousand other things she might +have said or done, a hundred ways by which she might have appealed to +Hartley, and yet her common sense told her that the less she said on the +subject the better it would be, if, in the end, the Rev. Francis Heath +was led into the awful pitfalls of cross-examination. Anyone may forget +and recall facts later, but to state facts that may be used as evidence +is to stand handcuffed before inexorable justice, and Mrs. Wilder had +left her hands free. + +"Is anything the matter?" Draycott jerked out the question as he got up +to leave the room. "You seem rather silent." + +Clarice laughed, and her laugh was slightly forced. + +"I went for a ride this morning, and met Mr. Hartley. He is the most +exhausting man I ever met." + +"I hope you told him so," said Wilder shortly. "He's about here +frequently enough, even though he _does_ bore you." + +Something in his voice made her eyes focus him very clearly and +distinctly. + +"I have a very good mind to tell him," she said easily, "but he is +blessed with a skin that would turn the edge of any ordinary hatchet; he +would think I was merely being 'funny.'" + +"It's an odd fact," said Draycott with a sneer in his eyes, "that +however much a woman complains of a man's stupidity, she will let him +hang about her, and make a grievance of it, until she sees fit to drop +him. When that moment arrives she can make him let go, and lower away +all right. Just now Hartley is hanging on quite perceptibly, and if it +entertains you to slang him behind his back, I suppose you will slang +him, but he won't drop off before you've done with him, Clarice, if I +know anything of your methods." Her face flushed and she began to look +angry. "Mind you, I don't object to Hartley. As you say, he's a fool, a +silly, trusting ass, the sort of man who is child's-play to a girl of +sixteen. If you must have a string of loafers to prove that your +attractions outwear _anno domini_, I must accept Hartley, and other +Hartleys, so long as you continue to play the same game. _Hartleys_, I +said, Clarice." + +There was no doubt about the emphasis he laid upon the name. + +"You flatter Mr. Hartley considerably," she said, but her voice was +conciliatory and her laugh nervous. + +"He represents a type; a type that some married men may be thankful +continues to exist. God!" he broke out violently, "if he could hear you +talk of him, it would be a lesson to the fool, but he won't hear you. No +man ever does hear these things until the knowledge comes too late to be +of any use to him. You have got to have your strings"--he shrugged his +shoulders--"because your life isn't here, in this house; it is at the +Club, and at dinners and races and so on, and to be left to your +husband is the beginning of the end. Don't deny it, Clarice, it's no +earthly use. Women like you have your own ideas of life, I suppose, and +I ought to be thankful they're no worse." + +He stood by the door all the time he spoke, and his colourless face and +pale eyes never altered. + +"You're talking absolute nonsense," said Mrs. Wilder, preserving an +amiable tone. "We _have_ to entertain, Draycott, and you can't round on +me for what I have done for years. It has helped you on, and you know +it." + +"I wasn't talking of that," he said drearily. "I was talking of you. +You're getting old, for a woman, Clarice, and when you're worried, as +you are to-day, you show it; though how an imbecile like Hartley got at +you to the extent of making you worried, I don't pretend to guess." + +"Old," she said angrily. "You aren't troubling to be particularly +polite." + +"No, I'm damnably truthful; just because it makes me wonder at you all +the more. You can go on smiling at any number of idiots, because you +must have the applause, I suppose. You don't even believe in it--_now_." + +His allusion was definite, and Mrs. Wilder felt about in her mind for +some way to change the conversation. Quagmires are bad ground for +walking, and she was in a hurry to reach _terra firma_ again. She came +round the table and slipped her arm through his. + +"After all these years. Draycott--be a little generous." + +If she had fought him, some deep, hidden anger in his cold heart would +have flared up, but her gesture softened him and he patted her hand. + +"I know," he said slowly. "Only I can't quite forget. I simply can't, +Clarice." + +She smiled at him and touched his face with a light hand. + +"Shall I tell you why? Because even if I am old--and thirty-six isn't so +very dreadful--you are still in love with me." + +She went with him to the door and smiled as he drove away, smiled and +waved as he reappeared round a distant bend, and watched him return her +signal, and then she went back into the large drawing-room and her face +grew grey and pinched, and she sat with her chin propped on her hands, +thinking. + +She had proved that there are more fools in the world than those who go +about disguised as Heads of Police, and had added another specimen to +the general list, but she found no mirth in the idea as she considered +it. + + + + +X + +IN WHICH CRAVEN JOICEY IS OVERCOME BY A SUDDEN INDISPOSITION, AND +HARTLEY, WITHOUT LOOKING FOR HIM, FINDS THE MAN HE WANTED + + +It seemed to Hartley that Fate had dealt very hardly with him. He was +interested in the case of the boy Absalom, and he felt that the +possibility of clearing it up was well within reach, and then he found +himself face to face with an unpleasant and painful duty. + +All his gregarious sociable nature cried out against any act that would +cause a scandal in Mangadone, the magnitude of which he could hardly +gauge but only guess at; and yet, wherever he went, the thought haunted +him. His feelings gave him no rest, and he remained inactive and +listless for several days after his ride with Mrs. Wilder. If she had +told him that she implored him personally to drop the case he could not +have felt more certain that she desired him to do so. She worked +indirectly upon his feelings, a much surer way with some natures than a +direct appeal, and the thought brought something akin to misery into the +mind and heart of the police officer. + +Absalom had gone, leaving no visible footprint to indicate whither he +had vanished, but the inexorable detail of circumstance after +circumstance led on to a very definite conclusion. The wooden figure +outside the curio dealer's shop pointed up his master's steps, and did +no one any wrong, but the awful fixed finger of changeless fact +indicated the creeper-covered bungalow of the Rev. Francis Heath. + +Hartley sat in his room, his elbows on the writing-table, and stared out +before him. A sluicing shower had come up suddenly, obscuring all the +brightness of the day, and the eaves of the veranda dripped mournfully +with a sound like the patter of a thousand tiny feet; the patter sounded +like the falling of tears, and he wondered if Heath, too, listened to +the light persistent noise, and read into it the footsteps of departing +hopes and lost ideals, or merely all the terrible monotonous detail that +preceded an act that was a crime. + +Hartley had dealt considerably with criminal cases, but never with +anything the least like the case of the boy Absalom, and the +speculations that came across his mind were new to him. He realized that +a criminal of the class of the Rev. Francis Heath is a criminal who is +driven slowly, inch by inch, into action, and each inch given only at +the cost of blood and tears. It was little short of ghastly to consider +what Heath must have gone through and suffered, and what he still must +suffer, and must continue to suffer as he went along the dark loneliness +of the awful road into which he had turned. + +People who have pity and to spare for the murdered body, or for the dupe +who has suffered plunder, think very little of the agony of mind and +the horror of the man who has held a good position, secure and honoured, +and who falls into the bottomless abyss of crime and detection. Hartley +had never considered it before. He was on the side of law and order, and +he was incapable of even dimly visualizing any condition of affairs that +could force him into illegal action, and yet he felt in the darkness +after some comprehension of the mind of the Rector of St. Jude's Parish +Church. + +The rain passed over, and the veranda was crossed with strips of yellow +sunlight, the pale washed sunlight of a wet evening, and still the drip +from the eaves fell intermittently with its melancholy noise, so softly +now, as hardly to be heard, and Hartley got up, and, putting on his hat, +walked across the scrunching wet gravel, and out on to the road, making +his way towards the Club. + +Far away, gleams of light lay soft over the trees of the park, the green +sad light that is only seen in damp atmospheres. There was no gladness +in the day, only a sense of deficiency and sorrow, even in its lingering +beauty; and the lake that reflected the trees and the sky was deadly +still, with a brooding, waiting stillness. Hartley stopped as he went +towards the further gates of the park, and watched the glassy +reflections with troubled eyes. No breeze touched the woods into +movement, and the long, yellow bars of evening light were full of dim +stillness. The very lifelessness of it affected Hartley strangely. +Except where, here and there, a flash of the low sunset caught the +water, the whole prospect was motionless, and he stood like a man +spellbound by the mystery of its silence. + +Hartley had chosen the less frequented road through the Park, and there +was no one in sight when he had stopped to look at the pale sheet of +water with its mirrored reproduction of tree and sky. It held him +strangely, and he felt a curious tension of his nerves, as though +something was going to happen. The thought came, as such thoughts do +come, out of nowhere in particular, and yet Hartley waited with a sense +of discomfort. + +When he turned away angry at his own momentary folly, he stooped and +picked up a stone and threw it into the motionless beauty of the water, +breaking it into a quick splash, marring the clearness, and confusing +the straight, low band of gold cloud which broke under the widening +circles. As he stooped, a man had come into sight, walking with a slow, +heavy step, his eyes on the ground and his head bent. He came on with +dragging feet and a dull, mechanical walk, the walk of a man who is +tired in body and soul. He did not look at the lake, nor did he even see +Hartley, who turned towards him at once with sudden relief. + +When Hartley hailed him cheerfully, Joicey stopped dead and looked up, +staring at him as though he were an apparition. He took off his hat and +wiped his forehead. + +"Where did you spring from, Hartley?" he asked. "I did not see anyone +just now." There was more irritation than warmth in his greeting of the +police officer. + +"I was moonstruck by the edge of that confounded lake. It was so still +that it got on my nerves." + +"Nerves," said Joicey abruptly. "There's too much talk of nerves +altogether in these days." + +Joicey, like all large men with loud voices, was able to give an +impression of solidity that is very refreshing and reviving at times, +but, otherwise, Joicey was not looking entirely himself. He passed his +handkerchief over his face again and laughed dully. + +"You're going to the Club, I suppose?" + +"I was going there, but now I'll join you and have a walk, if I may. +It's early for the Club yet." + +He turned and walked on beside the Banker, who appeared, if anything, +less in the humour for conversation than was usual with him. They left +the lake behind them, now a pallid gleam flecked with wavering light in +a circle of deep shadows that reached out from the margin. + +"Any news?" asked Hartley without enthusiasm. + +"Not that I have heard." + +Silence fell again, and they walked out on to the road. Pools of +afternoon rain still lay here and there in the depressions, but Joicey +took no heed of them, and splashed on, staining his white trousers with +liquid mud. + +"By the way," he said, clearing his throat as though his words stuck +there, "have you heard anything more in connection with the +disappearance of that boy you were talking of the other evening?" + +Hartley did not reply for a moment, and just as he was about to speak, +Mrs. Wilder's car passed, and Mrs. Wilder leaned forward to smile at the +Head of the Police; a small buggy followed with some more friends of +Hartley's, and then another car, and the road was clear again. + +"I believe I am on the right track, but I don't like it, Joicey. I'm +damned if I do." + +"Why not?" + +"It comes too close to home,"--Hartley spoke with a jerk. "A hateful +job--I thought I'd tell you--" He spoke in broken sentences, and his +words affected the Banker very perceptibly. + +"Can't you drop it?" + +Joicey came to a standstill, and his voice was lowered almost to a +whisper. + +"I wish to Heaven I could, but it's a question of duty,"--he could +hardly see Joicey's face in the gathering gloom. "I suppose you guess +what I'm driving at, Joicey, though how you guess, I don't know." + +"I think I'll say good night here, Hartley,"--the Banker's voice was +unnatural and wavering. "I can't discuss it with you. It's got to be +proved," he spoke more heatedly. "What have you got? Only the word of a +stinking native. I tell you it's monstrous." He stopped and clutched +Hartley's arm, and seemed as though he was staggering. + +"What has come over you, Joicey; are you ill?" + +"I'll sit down here for a moment,"--Joicey walked towards a low wall. +"Sometimes I get these attacks. I'm better after they are over. Better, +much better. Leave me here to go back by myself, Hartley. You need have +no fear, I'm over it now; I'll rest for a little and then go my way +quickly. Believe me, I'd rather be alone." + +Very reluctantly, Hartley quitted him. He felt that Joicey was ill, and +might even be beginning the horrible phase of "breaking up," which comes +on with such fatal speed in a tropical climate. He went back after he +had gone a mile along the road, but Joicey was no longer there. It was +too late to think of going to the Club, for the road that Joicey and +Hartley had followed led away from the residential quarter of Mangadone, +and he disliked the idea of going back to his own bungalow and waiting +through the dismal hour that lies across the evening between the time to +come in and the time to dress for dinner. + +Had there been a friendly house near, Hartley would have gone in on the +chance of finding someone at home, but as there was not, he made the +best of existing circumstances and took his way along the road towards +his own bungalow. He could not deny that his walk with Joicey had only +served to depress his spirits, and he was sorry to think that his friend +was so obviously in bad health. The world seemed an uncomfortable place, +full of gloomy surprises, and Hartley wished that he had a wife to go +back to. Not a superb being like Mrs. Wilder, who was encircled by the +halo of High Romance, but just an ordinary wife, with a friendly smile +and a way of talking about everyday things while she darned socks. +Somewhere in his domestic heart Hartley considered sock-mending a +beautiful and symbolic act, and yet he could not picture Mrs. Wilder +occupied in such a fashion. + +A man with a wife to go back to is never at the same loose end as a man +who has no need ever to be punctual for a solitary meal, and Hartley +walked quickly because he wanted to get clear of his depression, rather +than for any reason that compelled him to be up to time. + +The gathering darkness drew out the flare over the city, and, here and +there, lamps dotted the road, until, turning up a short cut, he was into +the region of trams once more. The lighted cars, filled with gay Burmese +and soldiers from the British Regiment, and European-clad, dark-skinned +creatures of mixed races, looked cheerful and encouraged to better +thoughts. Hartley crossed the busy thoroughfare below the Pagoda steps +and went on quickly, for he recognized the outline of Mhtoon Pah on his +way to burn amber candles before his newly-erected shrine. He was in no +mood to talk to the curio dealer just then, and he avoided him carefully +and plunged down a tree-bowered road that led to the bridge, and from +the bridge to the hill-rise where his own gate stood open. + +It pleased him to see that lamps were lighted in the house, and he felt +conscious that he was hungry, and would be glad of dinner; he made up +his mind to do himself well and rout the tormenting thoughts that +pursued him, and to-morrow he would see Francis Heath and have the whole +thing put on paper once and for all. He even whistled as he came along +the short drive and under the portico, where a night-scented flower +smelt strong and sweet. His boy met him with the information that there +was a Sahib within waiting. A Sahib who had evidently come to stay, for +a strange-looking servant in the veranda rose and salaamed, and sat down +again by his master's kit with the patience of a man who looks out upon +eternity. + +Hartley hardly glanced at the servant. Visitors, tumbling from anywhere, +were not altogether unusual occurrences. Men on the way back from a +shoot in the jungles of Upper Burma, men who were old school friends and +were doing a leisurely tour to Japan and America, men of his own +profession who had leave to dispose of; all or any of these might arrive +with a servant and a portmanteau. Whoever it was, Hartley was +predisposed to give him a welcome. He had come just when he was wanted, +and he hurried in, a light of pleasure in his blue eyes. + +Near the lamp, a book of verses open on his knee, sat Hartley's +unexpected guest. He was slim, dark, and vital, but where his arresting +note of vitality lay would have been hard to explain. No one can tell +exactly what it is that marks one man as a courageous man, and another +as a coward, and yet, without need of any test, these things may be +known and judged beforehand. The man whose eyes followed the lines: + + "They say the Lion and the Lizard keep + The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep"-- + +was as distinctive as he well could be, and yet his face was not +expressive. His dark, narrow eyes were dull, and his finely-cut features +small and perfect, rather than bold and strong; his long hands were the +hands of a woman more than those of a man, and his figure was slight to +boyishness. + +When Hartley let his full joy express itself in husky, cheery words of +surprise, his visitor said very little, but what he did say was spoken +in a pleasant, low voice. + +"Coryndon," said Hartley again. "Of all men on earth I wanted to see you +most. You've done what you always do, come in the 'nick.'" + +Coryndon smiled, a languid, half-amused gleam of mirth. + +"I am only passing through, my job is finished." + +"But you'll stay for a bit?" + +"You said just now that I was here in the 'nick'; if the nick is +interesting, I'll see." + +"I'll go and arrange about your rooms," said Hartley, and he appeared +twice his normal size beside his guest, as a St. Bernard might look +standing by a greyhound. "We will talk afterwards." + +Coryndon watched him go out without change of expression, and, sliding +back into his chair, took up his book again. + + "They say the Lion and the Lizard keep + The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep." + +Coryndon leaned back and half closed his eyes; the words seemed potent, +as with a spell, and he called up a vision of the forsaken Palace where +wild things lived and where revels were long forgotten--solitude and +ruin that no one ever crossed to explore or to see--with the eyes of a +man who can rebuild a mighty past. Solitude in the halls and marble +stairways, ruin of time in the fretted screens, and broken cisterns +holding nothing but dry earth. Nothing there now but the lion and the +lizard, not even the ghost of a light footfall, or the tinkle of glass +bangles on a rounded arm. + +Coryndon had almost forgotten Hartley when he came back, flushed and +pleased, and full of a host's anxiety about his guest's welfare. + +"I hope you haven't been bored?" + +"No," said Coryndon, touching the book, "I've been amusing myself in my +own way," and he followed Hartley out of the room. + + + + +XI + +SHOWS HOW THE "WHISPER FROM THE DAWN OF LIFE" ENABLES CORYNDON TO TAKE +THE DRIFTING THREADS BETWEEN HIS FINGERS + + +Very probably Hartley believed that he knew "all about" Coryndon; he +knew at least, that the Government of India looked upon him as the best +man they had to unravel the most intricate case that murder or forgery, +coining or fraud of any sort, could tangle into mysterious knots. +Coryndon had intuition and patience, and once he undertook a case he +followed it through to the ultimate conclusion; and so it was that +Coryndon stood alone, a department in himself, possibly aided by the +police and the shadower, but capable of discovering anything, once he +bent his mind to the business of elucidation. + +Beyond the fact that he had been born somewhere in a jungle clearing in +Upper Burma, and that at ten years old he had gone to India to a school +in the Hills, then had vanished for years to reappear in the service of +the Government, his story was not known to anyone except himself. No one +doubted that he had "a touch of the country" in his blood. It displayed +itself in unmistakable physical traits, and his knowledge of its many +tongues and languages was the knowledge that first made him realize +that his future career lay in India. + +Colonel Coryndon, his father, died just as the boy was leaving school, +and left him a little money; just enough to keep him from the iron yoke +of clerkship, and to allow of his waiting for what he wanted. Behind his +dark eyes lived a brain that could concentrate with the grip of a vise +upon any subject that interested him, and he puzzled his masters at his +school. Coryndon was a curious mixture of imagination and strong common +sense; few realize that it is only the imaginative mind that can see +behind the curtain that divides life from life, and discern motives. + +He saw everything with an almost terrible clearness. Every detail of a +room, every line in a face, every shop in a street he walked through, +every man he spoke with, was registered in his indelible book of facts. +This, in itself, is not much. Men can learn the habit of observation as +they can train their minds to remember dates or historical facts, but, +in the case of Coryndon, this art was inherent and his by birth. He +started with it, and his later training of practising his odd capacity +for recalling the smallest detail of every day that passed only +intensified his power in this direction. With this qualification alone +he could have been immensely useful as a secret agent, but in addition +to this he had also his other gift, his intuition and power of altering +his own point of view for that of another man, and seeing his subject +through the eyes of everyone concerned in a question. + +His nervous vitality was great, and there were plenty of well-educated +native subordinates who believed him gifted with occult forces, since +his ways of getting at his astonishing conclusions were never explained +to any living soul, because Coryndon could not have explained them to +himself. + +His identity was well known at Headquarters, but beyond that limit it +was carefully hidden from the lower branches of the executive, as too +wide and too public recognition would have narrowed his sphere of +action. As Wesley declared the whole world to be his parish, so the +whole of Asia was Coryndon's sphere of action, and only at Headquarters +was it ever known where he actually might be found, or what employment +occupied his brain. He came like a rain-cloud blown up soundlessly on +the east wind, and vanished like morning mists, and no one knew what he +had learnt during his silent passing. + +Men with voices like brass trumpets praised and encouraged him, and men +who knew the dark byways of criminal investigation were hardly jealous +of him. Coryndon was a freak, an exception, a man who stood beyond +competition, and was as sure as he was mysterious. He was "explained" in +a dozen ways. His face, to begin with, made disguise easy, and the touch +of the country did much for him in this respect. He had played behind +his father's up-country bungalow with little Burmese boys and talked in +their speech before he knew any English; the Bazaar was an open book to +him, and the mind of the native, so some men said with a shade of +contempt, not too far from his own to make understanding impossible. + +Besides all this, there were those other years, after he left the school +under the high snow ranges, when Coryndon had vanished entirely, and of +these years he never spoke. And yet, with all this, Coryndon was +unmistakably a "Sahib," a man of unusual culture and brilliant ability. +He had complete powers of self-control, and his one passion was his love +of music, and though he never played for anyone else, men who had come +upon him unawares had heard him playing to himself in a way that was as +surprising as everything else about Coryndon surprised and astonished. + +He had dreamed as a boy, and he still dreamed as a man. The subtle +beauty of a line of verse led him into visionary habitations as fair as +any ever disclosed to poet or artist. He could lose himself utterly in +the lights and shadows of a passing day, while he watched for a doomed +man at the entrance of a temple, or brooded over painted sores and cried +to the rich for alms by a dusty roadside; a very different Coryndon to +the Coryndon who looked at Hartley across the white cloth of the round +dinner-table. + +The truth about Coryndon was that he read the souls of men. Mhtoon Pah +had boasted to Hartley that he read the walk of the world he looked at, +but Coryndon went much further; and as Hartley talked about outward +things, whilst the Boy and the _Khitmutghar_ flitted in and out behind +them, carrying plates and dishes, his guest was considering him with a +quiet and almost moonstruck gravity of mind. He knew just how far +Hartley could go, and he knew exactly what blocked him. Hartley was tied +into the close meshes of circumstance; he argued from without and worked +inward, and Coryndon had discovered the flaw in this process before he +left his school. + +When they were alone at last, Hartley pushed his chair closer to +Coryndon and leaned forward. + +"One moment." Coryndon's voice was lowered slightly, and he strolled to +the door. + +"Boy," he called, and with amazing alacrity Hartley's servant appeared. + +"Tell my servant," he said, speaking in English, "that I want the cigar +tin." + +"Do you believe he was listening?" + +"I am sure of it." + +Hartley flushed angrily, and he was about to speak when Coryndon's man +came into the room, salaaming on the threshold, carrying a black tin. + +"Would you like a little stroll in the garden?" said Coryndon. "It would +be pleasant before we sit down," and Hartley followed him out. + +"Did you bring any cigars down?" + +Hartley spoke for the sake of saying something, more than for any +reasonable desire to know whether Coryndon had done so or not, and his +reply was a low, amused laugh. + +"In ten minutes Shiraz will do a little juggling for your servants," he +said placidly. "There are no cigars in the tin. I hope you didn't want +one, Hartley? He will probably tell them that I am a new arrival, +picked up by him at Bombay. Whatever he tells them, they will find him +amusing." + +A misty moonlight lighted the garden with a soft, yellow haze, and the +harsh rattling of night beetles sounded unusually loud and noisy in the +silence. + +"You said that you had just finished a job?" + +"I have, and now I am on leave. The Powers have given me four months, +and I am going to London to hear the Wagner Cycle. I promised myself +that long ago, and unless something very special crops up to prevent me, +I shall start in a week from now." + +They took another silent turn. + +"Did your last job work out?" + +"Yes. It took a long time, but I got back into touch with things I had +begun to forget, and it was interesting. Shall we go back into the +house?" + +"Come in here," said Hartley, taking his way into the sitting-room. "I +have some notes in my safe that I want you to look at. The truth is, +Coryndon, I'm tackling rather a nasty business, and if you can help me, +I'll be eternally grateful to you. It has got on my nerves." + +Coryndon bowed his head silently and drew up a chair near the table. All +the time that Hartley talked to him, he listened with close attention. +The Head of the Police went into the whole subject at length, telling +the story as it had happened, and leaving out, so far as he knew, no +point that bore upon the question. First he told of the disappearance of +the boy Absalom, the grief and frantic despair of Mhtoon Pah, and his +visit to Hartley in the very room where they sat. + +"He was away from the curio shop that night, you say?" + +"Yes, at the Pagoda. He is building a shrine there. His statement to me +was that he went away just after dark, and the boy had already left an +hour before." + +Coryndon said nothing, but waited for the rest of the story, and, bit by +bit, Hartley set it before him. + +"Heath saw Absalom, and admitted it to me," he said, pulling at his +short, red moustache. "Even then he showed a very curious amount of +irritation, and refused to say anything further. Then he lied to me when +I went to the house, and there is Atkins' testimony to the fact that he +is paying a man to keep quiet." + +"Has the man reappeared since?" + +"Not since I had the house watched." + +Coryndon's eyes narrowed and he moved his hands slightly. + +"Next there is the very trifling evidence of Mrs. Wilder. It doesn't +count for much, but it goes to prove that she knows something of Heath +which she won't give away. She knows something, or she wouldn't screen +him. That is simple deduction." + +"Quite simple." + +"Now, with reference to Joicey," went on Hartley, with a frown. "I don't +personally think that Joicey knows or remembers whether he did see +Heath. My Superintendent swears that he did go down Paradise Street on +the night of the twenty-ninth, but Joicey is ill, and he said he wasn't +in Mangadone then. He has been seedy for some time and may have mixed up +dates." + +"You attach no importance to him?" + +"Practically none." Hartley leaned back in his chair and lighted a +cheroot. + +Coryndon touched the piece of silk rag with his hand. + +"This rag business is out of place, taken in connection with Heath." + +"I don't accuse Heath, Coryndon, but I believe that he _knows_ where the +boy went. The last thing that was told me by Mhtoon Pah was that the +gold lacquer bowl that was ordered by Mrs. Wilder was found on the steps +of the shop. Though what that means, the devil only knows. Mhtoon Pah +considers it likely that the Chinaman, Leh Shin, put it there, but I +have absolutely nothing to connect Leh Shin with the disappearance, and +I have withdrawn the men who were watching the shop." + +"Interesting," said Coryndon slowly. + +"Can you give me any opinion? I'm badly in need of help." + +Coryndon shook his head, his hand still touching the stained rag idly. + +"I could give you none at all, on these facts." + +Hartley looked at him with a fixed and imploring stare. + +"In a place like this, to be the chief mover, the actual incentive to +disclosing God knows what, is simply horrible," he said in a rough, +pained voice. "I've done my share of work, Coryndon, and I've taken my +own risks, but any cases I've had against white men haven't been against +men like the Padré." + +Coryndon gave a little short sigh that had weariness in its sound, +weariness or impatience. + +"What you have told me involves three principals, and a score of +others." He was counting as he spoke. "Any one of them may be the man +you are looking for, only circumstances indicate one in particular. You +are satisfied that you have got the line. I could not confidently say +that you have, unless I had been working the case myself, and had +followed up every clue throughout." + +Hartley got up and paced the room, his hands deep in the pockets of his +dinner jacket. + +"I am convinced that Heath will have to be forced to speak, and, I may +as well be honest with you--I don't like forcing him." + +Coryndon was not watching his host, he was leaning back in his chair, +his eyes on a little spiral of smoke that circled up from his cigarette. + +"I wish that damned little Absalom had never been heard of, and that it +was anybody's business but mine to find him, if he is to be found." + +If Coryndon's finely-cut lips trembled into an instantaneous smile, it +passed almost at once, and he looked quietly round at Hartley, who still +paced, looking like an overgrown schoolboy in a bad mood. + +"I wish I could help you, Hartley, but I have not enough to go on. As +you say, the case is unusual, and it makes it impossible for me to +advise." He got up and stretched himself. "There is one thing I will +do, if you wish it, and, from what you said, you may wish it; I will +take over the whole thing--for my holiday, and the Wagner Cycle will +have to wait." + +Hartley came to a standstill before his guest. + +"You'll do that, Coryndon?" + +"The case interests me," said Coryndon, "otherwise, I should not suggest +it." He paused for a moment and reflected. "I shall have to make your +bungalow my headquarters; that is the simplest plan. Any absences may be +accounted for by shooting trips and that sort of thing. That part of it +is straightforward enough, and I can see the people I want to see." + +"You shall have a free hand to do anything you like," said Hartley. "And +any help that I can give you." + +Coryndon looked at him for a moment without replying. + +"Thank you, Hartley. Our methods are different, as you know, but when I +want you, I will tell you how you can help me." + +He walked across the room to where two tumblers and a decanter of whisky +stood on a tray, and, pouring himself out a glass of soda water, sipped +it slowly. + +"Here are my notes," said Hartley, in a voice of great relief. "They +will be useful for reference." + +Coryndon folded them up and put them in his pocket. + +"Most of what is there is also in my official report." + +Coryndon nodded his head, and, opening the piano, struck a light chord. +After a moment he sat down and played softly, and the air he played came +straight from the high rocks that guard the Afghan frontier. Like a +breeze that springs up at evening, the little love-song lilted and +whispered under his compelling fingers, and the "Song of the Broken +Heart" sang itself in the room of Hartley, Head of the Police. Where it +carried Coryndon no one could guess, but it carried Hartley into a very +rose-garden of sentimental fatuity, and when the music stopped he gave a +deep grunting sigh of content. + +"I'll get some honest sleep to-night," he said as they parted, and ten +minutes afterwards he was lying under his mosquito-curtains, oblivious +to the world. + +Coryndon's servant, Shiraz, was squatting across the door that led into +the veranda when his master came in, and he waited for his orders. He +would have sat anywhere for weeks, and had done so, to await the +doubtful coming of Coryndon, whose times and seasons no man knew. + +When he was gone, Coryndon took out the bulky packet of notes and +extracted the piece of rag, which he locked carefully away in a +dispatch-box. He then cleared a little space on the floor, and put the +papers lightly over one another. Setting a match to them, he watched +them light up and curl into brittle tinder, and dissolve from that stage +into a heap of charred ashes, which he gathered up with a careful hand +and put into the soft earth of a fern-box outside his veranda door. This +being done, he sat down and began to think steadily, letting the names +drift through his brain, one by one, until they sorted themselves, and +he felt for the most useful name to take first. + +"Joicey, the Banker, is a man of no importance," he murmured to himself, +and again he said, "Joicey the Banker." + +It was nearly dawn when he got between the cool linen sheets, and was +asleep almost as his dark head lay back against the soft white pillow. + + + + +XII + +SHOWS HOW A MAN MAY CLIMB A HUNDRED STEPS INTO A PASSIONLESS PEACE, AND +RETURN AGAIN TO A WORLD OF SMALL TORMENTS + + +By the end of a week Coryndon had slipped into the ways of Mangadone, +slipped in quietly and without causing much comment. He went to the Club +with Hartley and made the acquaintance of nearly all his host's friends, +and they, in return, gave him the casual notice accorded to a passing +stranger who had no part or lot in their lives or interests. Coryndon +was very quiet and listened to everything; he listened to a great deal +in the first three days, and Fitzgibbon, a barrister, offered to take +him round and show him the town. + +Coryndon was "shown the town," but apparently he found a lasting joy in +sight-seeing, and could witness the same sights repeatedly without +failing interest. He climbed the steps to the Pagoda, under the guidance +of Fitzgibbon, the first afternoon they met. + +"Won't you come, too, Hartley?" asked the Barrister. + +"Not if I know it. I've been there about sixty times. If Coryndon wants +to see it, I'm thankful to let him go there with you." + +Fitzgibbon, who had a craze for borrowing anything that he was likely +to want, had persuaded Prescott, the junior partner in a rice firm, to +lend him his car, and as he sat in the tonneau beside Coryndon, he +pointed out the places of interest. Their way lay first through the +residential quarter, and Hartley's guest saw the entrance gate and +gardens of Draycott Wilder's house. + +"The most interesting and certainly the best-looking woman in Mangadone +lives there, a Mrs. Wilder. Hartley ought to have told you about her; he +is rather favoured by the lady. Her husband is a rising civilian. Mrs. +Wilder has bought Asia, and is wondering whether she'll buy Europe +next." + +Coryndon hardly appeared impressed or even interested. + +"So she is a friend of Hartley's?" he said carelessly. "I hadn't heard +that." + +Fitzgibbon laughed. + +"It's something to be a friend of Mrs. Wilder--that is, in Mangadone." + +They sped on over the level road, and the car swung through the streets +that led towards the open space before the temple. + +"That is the curio dealer's shop. Don't get any of your stuff there. The +man's a robber." + +"Which shop?" asked Coryndon patiently. + +"We're past it now, but it was the one with a dancing man outside of it, +a funny little effigy." + +Coryndon's eyes were turned to the Pagoda, and he was evidently +inattentive. + +"It strikes you, doesn't it?" asked Fitzgibbon, in the tones of a +gratified showman. "It always does strike people who haven't seen it +before." + +"Naturally, when one has not seen it before," echoed his companion, as +the car drew up. + +Coryndon stood for a moment looking at the entrance, and surveying the +huge plaster dragons with their gaping mouths and vermilion-red tongues. +They were ranged up a green slope, two on either side of the brown +fretted roof that covered the steep tunnel that led up a flight of more +than a hundred steps to the flat plateau, where the golden spire towered +high over all, amid a crowd of lesser minarets. + +Surrounded by baskets of roses and orchids, little silk-clothed Burmese +girls sat on the entrance steps, and sold their wares. Fitzgibbon would +have hurried on, but Coryndon, in true tripper fashion, stopped and +bought an armful of blossoms. + +"What am I to do with these things?" he asked helplessly. + +"Oh, you'd better leave them before one of the _Gaudamas_, and acquire +merit. If you let them all plunder you like this, we'll never get to the +top." + +Flight after flight, the two men climbed slowly, and Coryndon stood at +intervals to watch the crowd that came up and down. The steps were so +steep that the arch above them only disclosed descending feet, but +Coryndon watched the feet appear first and then the rest of the hurrying +or loitering men and women, and he sat on a seat beside a little +gathering of yellow-robed _Hypongyis_ until Fitzgibbon lost all +patience. + +"There is a whole town of piety to see up at the top. Come on, man; we +have hours of it yet to get through. Don't waste time over those stalls. +Every picture of the Buddha story was made in Birmingham." + +Progressing a little faster, Fitzgibbon piloted Coryndon past a stall +where yellow candles and bundles of joss-sticks in red paper cases were +sold at a varying price. + +"I must get some of these," objected Coryndon, who added a rupee's worth +of incense and a white cheroot to his collection. + +When they passed through the last archway and gained the plateau, he +looked round with eyes that spoke his keen interest. Even though he had +been there many times before, Coryndon looked at the sight with eyes +that grew shadowed by the dreaming soul that lived within him. + +Twilight was gathering behind the trees; only the gold-laced spires of a +thousand minarets caught the last light of the sun. On the plateau below +the great pillar, that glimmered like a golden sword from base to +bell-hung _Htee_, lay what Fitzgibbon had described as "a little town of +piety." A village of shrines and Pagodas, each built with seven roofs, +open-fronted to disclose the holy place within; some large as a small +chapel; some small, giving room only for the figure of the _Gaudama_. +Here and there, the votive offerings had fallen into decay, and the +gold-leaf covering the Buddha was black and dilapidated by the passing +of years, for there is no merit to be acquired in rebuilding or +renovating a sacred place. From innumerable shrines, uncounted Buddhas +looked out with the same long, contemplative eyes; in bronze, in jade, +in white and black marble, in grey stone and gilded ebony, the +passionless face of the great Peace looked out upon his children. + +Near to where Coryndon and the Barrister stood together, in the +peach-coloured evening light, a large shrine with a fretted roof was +thronged with worshippers, and Coryndon stood on the steps and looked +in. The floor of black, polished marble dimly reflected the immense gold +pillars that supported a lofty ceiling, lost entirely in the gloom, and +before a blaze of candles and a floating veil of scented grey smoke a +priest bowed himself, and prayed in a low, chanting voice. The face of +the Lord Buddha behind the rails was lighted by the wind-blown flame of +many tapers, so that it almost looked as though he smiled out of his +far-away Nirvana upon his kneeling worshippers, who could ask nothing of +him, not even mercy, since the salvation of a man is in his own hands. + +Before the rails, a settle with low gilt legs was covered with offerings +of flowers, that added their scent to the heavy air, and on a small +table a feast of cakes and sweets was placed, to be distributed later on +among the poor. Coryndon disposed of his burden of pink and white roses +and little magenta prayer-flags, and lighted a bundle of joss-sticks, +before they came out again and wandered on. + +As the daylight faded the lights from the shrines and the small booths +grew stronger, and the rising night wind, coming in from the river, rang +the silver bells around the spires, filling the whole air with tinkling +sound, and the slow-moving crowd around them laughed and joked, like +people at a fair. His eyes still full of dreams, Coryndon followed with +them, keeping one small packet of amber candles to light in honour of +some other Buddha in another shrine. + +"Funny devils, these Burmese," remarked the Barrister. "They never clean +up anything. Look at the years of tallow collected under that spiked +gate that is falling off its hinges. That black little Buddha inside +must once have been a popular favourite, but no one gives him anything +now." + +They turned a corner past a booth where bottles full of pink and yellow +fluid, and green leaves, wrapped around betel-nut, appeared to be the +chief stock-in-trade, and a noise of hammering struck on their ears. +Here a new shrine was being erected and was all but completed. A few +Chinamen, who had been working at it, were putting their tools into +canvas bags, preparatory to withdrawing like the remaining daylight. + +"This is Mhtoon Pah's edifice," said Fitzgibbon, coming to a standstill. +"He doesn't seem to have spared expense, either. Shall we go in?" + +The shrine was not a very large one, and the entrance was like the +entrance to a grotto at an Exhibition. Tiny facets of glass were crusted +into grass-green cement, shining like a thousand eyes, and, seated on a +vermilion lacquer daïs, a Buddha, with heavy eyelids that hid his +strange eyes, presided over an illumination of smoking flame. The smell +of joss-sticks was heavy on the air, and the filigree cloak worn by the +Buddha was enriched with red and green glass that shone and glittered. + +"They say the caste-mark in his forehead is a real diamond," remarked +the Barrister. "I don't suppose it is, but at least it is a good +imitation." + +Coryndon was not listening to him; he had gone close to the marble +rails, and was lighting his little bunch of yellow tapers. He lighted +them one by one, and put each one down on the floor very slowly and +carefully, and when he had finished he turned round. + +"Mhtoon Pah is the man who has the curio shop?" he asked. + +"The very same. It gives you some idea of his percentage on sales, +what?" + +Coryndon joined in his laugh, and they went out again into the street of +sanctity. Fitzgibbon was now getting exhausted, for his companion's +desire to "do" the Pagoda was apparently insatiable; and he asked +interminable questions that the Barrister was totally unable to answer. + +Coryndon seemed to find something fresh and interesting around every +corner. The white elephants delighted him, particularly where green +creepers had grown round their trunks, giving them a realistic effect of +enjoying a meal. The handles off very common English chests-of-drawers, +that were set along a rail enclosing a sleeping Buddha, pleased him like +a child, as did the bits of looking-glass with "Black and White Whisky," +or "Apollinaris Water," inscribed across their faces. + +"That sort of thing seems to attract them," explained Fitzgibbon. "In +one of the shrines there is a fancy biscuit-box at a Buddha's feet. It +has got 'Huntley and Palmer' on the top, and pictures of children and +swans all around it. Funny devils, I always say so." + +At length he had to drag Coryndon away, almost by main force. + +"I'd like to have seen Mhtoon Pah," he objected. "He ought to be on view +with his chapel." + +"Shrine, Coryndon. You can see him in his shop," and they began the +descent down the steep steps. + +"Look," said the Barrister quickly, "there is Mhtoon Pah. No, not the +man in white trousers, that's a Chinaman with a pigtail under his hat; +the fat old thing in the short silk _loongyi_ and crimson head-scarf." + +Coryndon hardly glanced at him, as he passed with a scent of spice and +sandal-wood in his garments; his attention had been attracted by a booth +where men were eating curry. + +"It is a curious custom to sell food in a place like this," he remarked +to the Barrister. + +"It's part of the Oriental mind," replied his guide. "No one understands +it. No one ever will; so don't try and begin, or you'll wear yourself +out." + +When they got back to the Club it was already late, and the hall of the +bar was crowded with men, standing together in groups, or sitting in +long, uncompromising chairs under the impression that they were +comfortable seats. + +"Hullo, Joicey," said the Barrister, as he fell over his legs. "I'm +dog-beat. Been doing the Pagoda with Coryndon. Do you know each +other--?" He waved his hand by way of introduction, and Coryndon took an +empty chair beside the Banker, who heaved himself up a little in his +seat, and signalled to a small boy in white, who was scuffling with +another small boy, also in white, and ordered some drinks. + +"I am new to it," explained Coryndon, and his voice sounded tired, as +though the Pagoda had been a little too much for him. + +Joicey did not reply; he was looking away, and Coryndon followed his +eyes. Near the wide staircase, and just about to go up it, a man was +standing, talking to a friend. He was dressed in an ill-cut suit of +white, with a V-shaped inlet of black under his round collar; he held a +_topi_ of an old pattern under his arm, and the light showed his face +cadaverous and worn. Joicey was holding the arm of his chair, and his +under-lip trembled. + +"Inexplicable," he muttered, and drank with a gulping sound. + +"What did you say?" asked Coryndon politely. + +"Say? Did I say anything? I can't remember that I did." The Banker's +voice was irritable, and he still watched the clergyman. + +"What strikes me about the Pagoda is the strong Chinese element in the +design. I am told that there are a lot of Chinamen in Mangadone. I +should like to see their quarter." + +"Hartley should be able to arrange that for you." + +Joicey was evidently growing tired of Coryndon's freshness and +enthusiasm, and he passed his hand over his face, as though the damp +heat of the night depressed his mind. + +"Hartley is very busy," said Coryndon, with the determination of a man +who intends to see what he has come to see. "I don't like to be +perpetually badgering him. Could I go alone?" + +"You could," said Joicey shortly. + +"I want to miss nothing." + +Coryndon turned his head away and looked at the crowded room, fixing his +gaze on a whirring fan that hung low on a brass rod, and when he looked +round again, Joicey had got up and was making his way out into the +night. Fitzgibbon was surrounded by several other men, and there was no +sign of his friend Hartley, so he got up and slipped out, standing +hatless, until his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. + +The strong lights from the veranda encroached some way into the gloom, +and, here and there, a few people still sat around basket tables, +enjoying the evening air. Coryndon looked at them, with his head bent +forward, a little like a cat just about to emerge through a door into a +dark passage. For a little time, he stood there, watching and listening, +and then he turned away and walked out along the footpath, as though in +a hurry to get back to his bungalow. + + + + +XIII + +PUTS FORWARD THE FACT THAT A SUDDEN FRIENDSHIP NEED NOT BE BASED UPON A +SUDDEN LIKING; AND PASSES THE NIGHT UNTIL DAWN REVEALS A SHAMEFUL SECRET + + +Some ten days after Coryndon had taken up his quarters with Hartley, he +informed his host that he intended to disappear for a time, and that he +would take his servant, Shiraz, with him. He had been through every +quarter of Mangadone before he set out to commence operations, and the +whole town lay clear as a map in his mind. + +Hartley was dining out, "dining at the Wilders'," he said casually, and +he further informed Coryndon that Mrs. Wilder had asked him to bring his +friend, but no amount of persuasion could induce Coryndon to forgo an +evening by himself. He pointed out to Hartley that he never went into +society, and that he found it a strain on his mind when he required to +think anything through, and, with a greater show of reluctance than he +really felt, Hartley conceded to his wish, and Coryndon sat down to a +solitary meal. He ate very sparingly and drank plain soda water, and +whilst he sat at the table his long, yellow-white fingers played on the +cloth, and his eyes followed the swaying punkah mat with an odd, +intense light in their inscrutable depths. + +He had made Hartley understand that he never talked over a case, and +that he followed it out entirely according to his own ideas, and Hartley +honestly respected his reserve, making no effort to break it. + +"When the hands are full, something falls to the ground and is lost," +Coryndon murmured to himself as he got up and went to his room. +"Shiraz," he called, "Shiraz," and the servant sprang like a shadow from +the darkness in response to his master's summons. + +"To-night I go out." Coryndon waved his hand. "To-morrow I go out, and +of the third day--I cannot tell. Let it be known to the servant people +that, like all travelling Sahibs, I wish to see the evil of the great +city. I may return with the morning, but it may be that I shall be +late." + +"_Inshallah, Huzoor_," murmured Shiraz, bowing his head, "what is the +will of the Master?" + +"A rich man is marked among his kind; where he goes the eyes of all men +turn to follow his steps, but the poor man is as a grain of sand in the +dust-storm of a Northern Province. Great are the blessings of the humble +and needy of the earth, for like the wind in its passing, they are +invisible to the eyes of men." + +Shiraz made no response; he lowered the green chicks outside the doors +and windows, and opened a small box, battered with age and wear. + +"The servant's box is permitted to remain in the room of the Lord +Sahib," he said with a low chuckle. "When asked of my effrontery in this +matter, I reply that the Lord Sahib is ignorant, that he minds not the +dignity of his condition, and behold, it is never touched, though the +leathern box of the Master has been carefully searched by Babu, the +butler of Hartley Sahib, who knows all that lies folded therein." + +While he spoke he was busy unwrapping a collection of senah bundles, +which he took out from beneath a roll of dusters and miscellaneous +rubbish, carefully placed on the top. The box had no lock and was merely +fastened with a bit of thick string, tied into a series of cunning +knots. + +When he had finished unpacking, he laid a faded strip of +brightly-coloured cotton on the bed, in company with a soiled jacket and +a tattered silk head-scarf, and, as Shiraz made these preparations, +Coryndon, with the aid of a few pigments in a tin box, altered his face +beyond recognition. He wore his hair longer than that of the average +man, and, taking his hair-brushes, he brushed it back from his temples +and tied a coarse hank of black hair to it, and knotted it at the back +of his head. He dressed quickly, his slight, spare form wound round the +hips with a cotton _loongyi_, and he pulled on the coat over a thin, +ragged vest, and sat down, while Shiraz tied the handkerchief around his +head. + +The art of make-up is, in itself, simple enough, but the very much more +subtle art of expression is the gift of the very few. It was hard to +believe that the slightly foreign-looking young man with Oriental eyes +could be the pock-marked, poverty-stricken Burman who stood in his +place. + +Slipping on a light overcoat, he pulled a large, soft hat over his head, +and walked out quickly through the veranda. + +"Now, then, Shiraz," he called out in a quick, ill-tempered voice. "Come +along with the lamp. Hang it; you know what I mean, the _butti_. These +infernal garden-paths are alive with snakes." + +Shiraz hastened after him, cringing visibly, and swinging a hurricane +lamp as he went. When they had got clear of the house and were near the +gate, Coryndon spoke to him in a low voice. + +"Pull my boots off my feet." Shiraz did as he was bidden and slipped his +master's feet into the leather sandals which he carried under his wide +belt. "Now take the coat and hat, and in due time I shall return, though +not by day. Let it be known that to-morrow we take our journey of seven +days; and it may be that to-morrow we shall do so." + +"_Inshallah_," murmured Shiraz, and returned to the house. + +By night the streets of Mangadone were a sight that many legitimate +trippers had turned out to witness. The trams were crowded and the +native shops flared with light, for the night is cool and the day hot +and stifling; therefore, by night a large proportion of the inhabitants +of Mangadone take their pleasure out of doors. In the Berlin Café the +little tables were crowded with those strange anomalies, black men and +women in European clothes. There had been a concert in the Presentation +Hall, and the audience nearly all reassembled at the Berlin Café for +light refreshments when the musical programme was concluded. + +Paradise Street was not behindhand in the matter of entertainment: there +was a wedding festival in progress, and, at the modest café, a thick +concourse of men talking and singing and enjoying life after their own +fashion; only the house of Mhtoon Pah, the curio dealer, was dark, and +it was before this house, close to the figure of the pointing man, that +the weedy-looking Burman who had come out of Hartley's compound stopped +for a moment or two. He did not appear to find anything to keep him +there; the little man had nothing better to offer him than a closed +door, and a closed door is a definite obstacle to anyone who is not a +housebreaker, or the owner with a key in his pocket; so, at least, the +Burman seemed to think, for he passed on up the street towards the river +end. + +From there to the colonnade where the Chinese Quarter began was a +distance of half a by-street, and Coryndon slid along, apologetically +close to the wall. He avoided the policeman in his blue coat and high +khaki turban, and his manner was generally inoffensive and harmless as +he sneaked into the low entrance of Leh Shin's lesser curio shop. A +large coloured lantern hung outside the inner room, and a couple of +candles did honour to the infuriated Joss who capered in colour on the +wall. + +All the hidden vitality of the man seemed to live in every line of his +lithe body as he looked in, but it subsided again as he entered, and he +stared vacantly around him. + +There was no one in the shop but Leh Shin's assistant, who was finishing +a meal of cold pork, and whose heavy shoulders worked with his jaws. He +ceased both movements when Coryndon entered, and continued again as he +spoke, the flap of his tweed hat shaking like elephants' ears. He +informed Coryndon, who spoke to him in Yunnanese, that Leh Shin was out, +so that if he had anything to sell, he would arrange the details of the +bargain, and if he wanted to buy, he could leave the price of the +article with the trusted assistant of Leh Shin. + +It took Coryndon some time to buy what he needed, which appeared to be +nothing more interesting than a couple of old boxes. The Burman needed +these to pack a few goods in, as he meditated inhabiting the empty, +rat-infested house next door but one to the shop of Leh Shin. Upon +hearing that they were to be neighbours, the assistant grew sulky and +informed Coryndon that trade was slack if he wished to sell anything, +but his eyes grew crafty again when he was informed that his new +acquaintance did not act for himself, but for a friend from Madras, who +having made much money out of a Sahib, whose bearer he had been for some +years, desired to open business in a small way with sweets and grain and +such-like trifles, whereby to gain an honest living. + +The assistant glanced at the clock, when, after much haggling, the deal +was concluded, and the Burman knotted the remainder of his money in a +small corner of his _loongyi_, and stood rubbing his elbows, looking at +the Chinaman, who appeared restless. + +"Where shall I find Leh Shin?" The Burman put the question suddenly. "In +what house am I to seek him, assistant of the widower and the +childless?" + +The boy leered and jerked his thumb towards the direction of the river. + +"Closed to-night, follower of the Way," he said with a smothered noise +like a strangled laugh. "Closed to-night. Every door shut, every light +hidden, and those who go and demand the dreams cannot pass in. I, only, +know the password, since my master receives high persons." He spat on +the floor. + +Coryndon bowed his head in passive subjection. + +"None else know my quantity," he murmured. "These thieves in the lesser +streets would mix me a poison and do me evil." + +The assistant scratched his head diligently and looked doubtfully at the +Burman. + +"And yet I cannot remember thy face." + +"I have been away up the big river. I have travelled far to that Island, +where I, with other innocent ones, suffered for no fault of mine." + +Leh Shin's assistant looked satisfied. If the Burman were but lately +returned from the convict settlement on the Andaman Islands, it was +quite likely that he might not have been acquainted with him. + +To all appearances, the bargain being concluded, and Leh Shin being +absent from the shop, there was nothing further to keep the customer, +yet he made no sign of wishing to leave, and, after a little preamble, +he invited the assistant to drink with him, since, he explained, he +needed company and had taken a fancy to the Chinese boy, who, in his +turn, admitted to a liking for any man who was prepared to entertain him +free of expense. Leh Shin's assistant could not leave the shop for +another hour, so the Burman, who did not appear inclined to wait so +long, went out swiftly, and came back with a bottle of native spirit. + +Fired by the fumes of the potent and burning alcohol, the Chinaman +became inquisitive, and wished to hear the details of the crime for +which his new friend had so wrongfully suffered. He looked so evil, so +greasy, and so utterly loathsome that he seemed to fascinate the Burman, +who rocked himself about and moaned as he related the story of his +wrong. His words so excited the ghoulish interest of his listener that +his bloated body quivered as he drank in the details. + +"And so ends the tale of his great evil; he that was my friend," said +Coryndon, rising from his heels as he finished his story. "The hour +grows late and there is no comfort in the night, since I may not find +oblivion." He passed his hand stupidly over his forehead. "My memory is +lost, flapping like an owl in the sunlight; once the road to the house +by the river lay before me as the lines upon my open palm, but now the +way is no longer clear." + +"I have said that it is closed to-night, so none may enter. There is a +password, but I alone know it, and I may not tell it, friend of an evil +man." + +"There are other nights," whined the Burman, "many of them in the +passing of a year. When I have the knowledge of thee, then may I seek +and find later." He rubbed his knees with an indescribable gesture of +mean cringing. + +The Chinese boy drank from the bottle and smacked his lips. + +"Hear, then, thou convict," he said in a shrill hectoring voice. "By the +way of Paradise Street, along the wharf and past the waste place where +the tram-line ends and the houses stand far apart. Of the houses of +commerce, I do not speak; of the mat houses where the Coringyhis live, I +do not speak, but beyond them, open below to the water-snakes, and built +above into a secret place, is the house we know of, but Leh Shin is not +there for thee to-night, as I have already spoken." + +He felt in the pouch at his waist for a rank black cigar, which he +pushed into his mouth and lighted with a sulphur match. + +"Who fries the mud fish when he may eat roast duck?" he said, with a +harsh cackle that made the Burman start and stare at him. + +"_Aie! Aie!_ I do not understand thy words." The Burman's face grew +blank and he went to the door. + +"Neither do you need to, son of a chained monkey," retorted the boy, +full of strong liquor and arrogance. "But I tell thee, I and my mate, +Leh Shin, hold more than money between the finger and the thumb,"--he +pinched his forefinger against a mutilated thumb. "More than money, +see, fool; thou understandest nothing, thy brain is left along with thy +chains in the Island which is known unto thee." + +"Sleep well," said the Burman. "Sleep well, child of the Heavens, I +understand thee not at all," and with a limp shrug of his shoulders, he +slid out of the narrow door into the night. + +Coryndon gave one glance at the sky; the dawn was still far off, but in +spite of this he ran up the deserted colonnade and walked quickly down +Paradise Street, which was still awake and would be awake for hours. +Once clear of the lessening crowd and on to the wharf, he ran again; +past the business houses, past the long quarter where the Coringyhis and +coolie-folk lived, and, lastly, with a slow, lurking step, to the close +vicinity of a house standing alone upon high supports. He skirted round +it, but to all appearances it was closed and empty, and he sat down +behind a clump of rough elephant-grass and tucked his heels under him. + +His original idea, on coming out, had been merely to get into touch with +Leh Shin, and make the way clear for his coming to the small, empty +house close to the shop of the ineffectual curio dealer, and now he +knew, through his fine, sharp instinct, that he was close upon the track +of some mystery. It might have nothing to do with the disappearance of +the Christian boy, Absalom, or it might be a thread from the hidden +loom, but, in any case, Coryndon determined to wait and see what was +going to happen. He was well used to long waiting, and the Oriental +strain in his blood made it a matter of no effort with him. Someone was +hidden in the lonely house, some man who paid heavily for the privacy of +the waterside opium den, and Coryndon was determined to discover who +that man was. + +The night was fair and clear, and the murmur of the tidal river gentle +and soothing, and as he sat, well hidden by the clump of grass, he went +over the events of the evening and thought of the face of Leh Shin's +assistant. Hartley had spoken of the bestial creature in tones of +disgust, but Hartley had not seen him to the same peculiar advantage. +Line by line, Coryndon committed the face to his indelible memory, +looking at it again in the dark, and brooding over it as a lover broods +over the face of the woman he loves, but from very different motives. He +was assured that no cruelty or wickedness that mortal brain could +imagine would be beyond the act of this man, if opportunity offered, and +he was attracted by the psychological interest offered to him in the +study of such a mind. + +The ripples whispered below him, and, far away, he heard the chiming of +a distant clock striking a single note, but he did not stir; he sat like +a shadow, his eyes on the house, that rose black, silent, and, to all +appearances, deserted, against the starry darkness of the sky. He had +got his facts clear, so far as they went, and his mind wandered out with +the wash of the water, and the mystery of the river flowed over him; the +silent causeway leading to the sea, carrying the living on its bosom, +and bearing the dead beneath its brown, sucking flow, full of its own +life, and eternally restless as the sea tides ebbed and flowed, yet +musical and wild and unchanged by the hand of man. Coryndon loved moving +waters, and he remembered that somewhere, miles away from Mangadone, he +had played along a river bank, little better than the small native +children who played there now, and he saw the green jungle-clearing, the +red road, and the roof of his father's bungalow, and he fancied he could +hear the cry of the paddy-birds, and the voices of the water-men who +came and went through the long, eventless days. + +Even while he thought, he never moved his eyes from the house. Suddenly +a light glimmered for a moment behind a window, and he sat forward +quickly, forgetting his dream, and becoming Coryndon the tracker in the +twinkling flash of a second. The inmates of the house were stirring at +last, and Coryndon lay flat behind his clump of grass and hardly +breathed. + +He could hear a door open softly, and, though it was too dark to discern +anything, he knew that there was a man on the veranda, and that the man +slipped down the staircase, where he stood for a moment and peered +about. He moved quietly up the path and watched it for a few minutes, +and then slid back into the house again. Coryndon could hear whispers +and a low, growled response, and then another figure appeared, a Sahib +this time, by his white clothes. He used no particular caution, and came +heavily down the staircase, that creaked under his weight, and took the +track by which Coryndon had come. + +Silhouetted against the sky, Coryndon saw the head and neck of a +Chinaman, and he turned his eyes from the man on the path to watch this +outline intently; it was thin, spare and vulture-like. Evidently Leh +Shin was watching his departing guest with some anxiety, for he peered +and craned and leaned out until Coryndon cursed him from where he lay, +not daring to move until he had gone. + +At last the silhouette was withdrawn and the Chinaman went back into the +house. He had hardly done so when Coryndon was on his feet, running +hard. He ran lightly and gained the road just as the man he followed +turned the corner by Wharf Street and plodded on steadily. In the +darkness of the night there are no shadows thrown, but this man had a +shadow as faithful as the one he knew so well and that was his companion +from sunrise to sunset, and close after him the poor, nameless Burman +followed step for step through the long path that ended at the house of +Joicey the Banker. + +Coryndon watched him go in, heard him curse the _Durwan_, and then he +ran once more, because the stars were growing pale and time was +precious. He was weary and tired when he crept into the compound outside +the sleeping bungalow on the hill-rise, and he stood at the gate and +gave a low, clear cry, the cry of a waking bird, and a few minutes +afterwards Coryndon followed Joicey's example and cursed the _Durwan_, +kicking him as he lay snoring on his blanket. + +"Open the door, you swine," he said in the angry voice of a belated +reveller, "and don't wake the house with that noise." + +Even when he was in his room and delivered himself over to the +ministrations of Shiraz, he did not go to bed. He had something to think +over. He knew that he had established the connection between Joicey the +Banker and the spare, gaunt Chinaman who kept a shop for miscellaneous +wares in the dark colonnade beyond Paradise Street. Joicey had a short +memory: he had forgotten whether he had met the Rev. Francis Heath on +the night of the 29th of July, and had imagined that he was not there, +that he was away from Mangadone; and as Coryndon dropped off to sleep, +he felt entirely convinced that, if necessary, he could help Joicey's +memory very considerably. + + + + +XIV + +TELLS HOW SHIRAZ, THE PUNJABI, ADMITTED THE FRAILTIES OF ORDINARY +HUMANITY, AND HOW CORYNDON ATTENDED AFTERNOON SERVICE AND CONSIDERED THE +VEXED QUESTION OF TEMPERAMENT. + + +The day following Coryndon's vigil outside the lonely house by the river +was dull and grey, with a woolly sky and a tepid stillness that hung +like a tangible weight in the air. Its drowsiness affected even the +native quarter, but it in no way lessened the bustle of preparations for +departure on the part of Coryndon, who ordered Shiraz to pack enough +clothes for a short journey, and to hold himself in readiness to leave +with his master shortly after sunrise the following day. His master also +gave him leave to go to the Bazaar and return at his own discretion, as +he was going out with Hartley Sahib. + +It was about noon, when the sun had struggled clear of the heavy clouds, +that Shiraz found himself in the dark colonnade locking an empty house +behind him with his own key, and, being a stately, red-bearded follower +of the Prophet, with a general appearance of wealth and dignity, he +walked slowly until he came to the doorway of Leh Shin's shop. His step +caused the Chinaman to look up from the string bed where he lay, gaunt, +yellow and unsavoury, his dark clothes contrasting with the flowing +white garments of the venerable man who regarded him through his +spectacles. + +"The hand of Allah has led me to this place," said Shiraz in his low, +reflective tones. "I seek for a little prayer-mat and a few bowls of +brass for my food; likewise, a bed for myself, and a bed of lesser value +for my companion. Hast thou these things, Leh Shin?" + +Leh Shin went into his back premises and returned with the bowls and the +prayer-mat. + +"The bed for thyself, O Haj, and the bed of lesser value for thy friend, +I shall make shift to procure. Presently I will send my assistant, the +eyes of my encroaching age, to bring what you need." + +"It is well," said Shiraz, who was seated on a low stool near the door, +and who looked with contemplative eyes into the shop. + +Leh Shin huddled himself on to the string couch again, and the slow +process of bargain-driving began. Pice by pice they argued the question, +and at last Shiraz produced a handful of small coin, which passed from +him to the Chinaman. + +"I had already heard of thee," said Leh Shin, scratching his loose +sleeves with his long, claw-like fingers. "But thy friend, the Burman, +who spoke beforehand of thy coming, and who still recalls the mixture of +his opium pipe, I cannot remember." He hunched his shoulders. "Yet even +that is not strange. My house by the river is a house of many faces, +yet all who dream wear the same face in the end," his voice crooned +monotonously. "All in the end, from living in the world of visions, +become the same." + +Shiraz bowed his head with grave courtesy. + +"It was also told to me that you served a rich master and have stored up +wealth." + +"The way of honesty is never the path to wealth," responded Shiraz, in +tones of reproof. "So it is written in the Koran." + +Leh Shin accepted the ambiguous reply with an unmoved face. + +"Thy friend is under the hand of devils?" + +He put the remark as an idle question. + +"He is tormented," replied Shiraz, pulling at his beard. "He is much +driven by thoughts of evil, committed, such is his dream, by another +than himself; and yet the _Sirkar_ hath said that the crime was his own. +The ways of Allah are veiled, and Mah Myo is without doubt no longer +reasonable; yet he is my friend, and doth greatly profit thereby." + +"Ah, ah," said the Chinaman, placing a hubble-bubble before his guest, +who condescended to shut the mouthpiece in under his long moustache, +while he sat silently for nearly half an hour. + +"Dost thou sell beautiful things, Leh Shin?" he asked. "I have a gift to +bestow, and my mind troubles me. The Lady Sahib of my late master +suffered misfortune. She was robbed by some unknown son of a jackal, and +thereby lost jewels, the value of which was said to be great, though I +know not of the value of such things." + +Leh Shin curled his bare toes on the edge of his bed and looked at them +with a great appearance of interest. + +"Was the thief taken, O son of a Prophet?" + +"He was not. I have cried in the veranda, to see the Lady Sahib's +sorrow, and I have also prayed and made many offerings at the Mosque, +but the thief escaped. Now that my service with the Lord Sahib is +finished, and as he has assisted my poverty with small gifts, I would +like to make a present to the Lady Sahib. Some trifling thing, costing a +small sum in rupees, for her grief was indeed great, and it may avail to +console her sorrow." + +"For which sorrow thou, also, wept in the veranda," added Leh Shin. + +"The Lady Sahib had many bowls of lacquer, some green, some red, some +spotted like the back of a poison snake, but she lacked a golden bowl, +and, should I be able to procure one for a moderate price, it would add +greatly to her pleasure in remembering her servant, for, says not the +Wise One, 'a gift is a small thing, but the hand that holds it may not +be raised to smite.'" + +Shiraz, all the time he was speaking, had regarded the Chinaman from +behind his respectable gold-rimmed spectacles, and he noticed that Leh +Shin did not seem to care for the subject of lacquer, for his face +darkened and he stopped scratching. + +"I deal not in lacquer," he said quickly. "Neither touch thou the +accursed thing, O Shiraz. Leave it to Mhtoon Pah, who is a sorcerer and +whose lies mount as high as the topmost pinnacle of the Pagoda." The +Chinaman's lips drew back from his teeth, and he snarled like a dog. "I +will not speak of him to thee, but I would that the face of Mhtoon Pah +was under my heel, and his eyeballs under my thumbs." + +"Yet this golden bowl has been in my thought," the voice of Shiraz +flowed on evenly. "And I said that here, in Mangadone, I might find such +an one. Thou art sure that lacquer is accursed to thine eyes, Leh Shin? +That thou hast not such a bowl by thee, neither that thy assistant, when +he seeks the bed for myself and the lesser bed for my friend, could not +look craftily into the shop of this merchant, and ask the price as he +passeth, if so be that Mhtoon Pah has such a bowl to sell?" + +Leh Shin spat ferociously. + +"There was a bowl, a bowl such as you describe, O servant of Kings, and +I thought to procure it, for word was brought me that Mhtoon Pah had +need of it, and I desired to hold it before him and withdraw it again, +and to inspire his covetousness and rage and then to sell it from my own +hand, but he leagues with devils and his power is great, for, behold, +Honourable Haj, the bowl that was mine was lost by the man from the seas +who was about to sell it to me. Lost, in all truth, and after the lapse +of many days, Mhtoon Pah had it in his shop, and sold it to the Lady +Sahib." + +"The hands of a man of wealth are more than two," said Shiraz +oracularly. + +"Nay, not so, for all thy learning, Pilgrim from the Shrine of Mahomet. +The hands of this merchant, at the time I speak, were as my hands, or +thine," he held out his claws and snatched at the air as though it was +his enemy's throat. "For his boy, his assistant, the Christian Absalom, +who served him well, and whom Mhtoon Pah fed upon sweets from the +vendor's stall, was suddenly taken from him, and has vanished, like the +smoke of an opium pipe." + +Shiraz expressed wonder, and agreed with Leh Shin that sorcery had been +used, shaking his head gravely and at length rising to his feet. + +"The shadows lengthen and the hour of prayer draws near. It is time for +the follower of the Prophet to give a poor man's alms at the gate of the +Mosque, and to pray and praise," he said. "Thy assistant tarries, Leh +Shin; let him go forth with speed and place my purchase in thy keeping, +since I met thee in a happy hour, and shall return upon the morrow from +the _Serai_, where it is Allah's will that I pass the night in peace." + +Walking with a slow, regular pace, he left the native quarter, and +taking a tram, got out on the road below the bungalow where Hartley's +servant waited in the veranda. + +"Thy Sahib has cursed thy beard and thine age, and says that he will +replace thee with a younger man if thy dealings in the Bazaar are of +such long duration." + +"Peace, owl," said Shiraz. "The Sahib can no more travel without my +assistance than a babe of one day without his mother. Presently, when +the Sahib has drunk a peg, he will return to reason." + +"The Sahib is not within; he has but now gone out once more, asking +from my Sahib for the loan of a prayer-book. Doubtless, there is a +_Tamasha_ at the 'Kerfedril,' and Coryndon Sahib goes thither to pray." + +"I shall place the buttons in his shirt, and recover an eight-anna piece +from the floor, which the master dropped yesterday, to deliver to him +when he shall return. Seek to be honest in thy youth, my son, for in +later life it will repay thee." + +Hartley's boy had not been mistaken when he heard Coryndon ask for a +prayer-book and saw him go out on foot. The small persistent bell +outside St. Jude's Church was ringing with desperate energy to collect +any worshippers who might feel inclined to assemble there for evensong, +and the worshippers when collected under the tin roof numbered nearly a +dozen. + +It was a bare, barn-like Church, for the wealth of the Cantonment had +flowed in the direction of the Cathedral. The punkah mats flapped +languidly, and the lower part of the church was dark, only the chancel +being lighted with ungainly punkah-proof lamps, and the two altar +candles that threw their gleam on a plain gold cross, guttered in the +heat. A strip of cocoa-nut matting lay along the aisle, and the chancel +and altar steps were covered in sad, faded red. The organist did not +attend except on Sundays or Feast Days, and the service was plain, +conducted throughout by the Rev. Francis Heath. + +Coryndon took a seat about half-way up the nave, and when Heath came +into the church, he watched him with interest. He liked to watch a man, +whom it was his business to study, without being disturbed, and Heath's +face in profile, as he knelt at the reading desk, or in full sight as he +stood to read the lesson, attracted the fixed gaze of, at least, one +member of the small congregation. There was no sermon and the service +was short, and as he sat quietly in his place, Coryndon wondered what +frenzied moment of fear or despair could have driven this man into the +company of Joicey and Mrs. Draycott Wilder, unconscious perhaps of their +connection with him, but linked nevertheless by an invisible thread that +wound around them all. + +Beyond the fact that he had seen Mrs. Wilder, he had not taken her under +the close observation of his mental microscope. She stood on one side +until such time as he should have need to probe into her reasons for +silence, and he wondered if Hartley was right, and if, by chance, the +earnest face of the clergyman, with its burning, stricken eyes, had +appealed to her sympathy. Could it be so, he asked himself once or +twice, but the immediate question was the one that Coryndon gave his +mind to answer, and just then he was forming an impression of the Rev. +Francis Heath. + +He looked at his hands, at his thin neck, at the hollows in his cheeks +and the emotional quiver at the corner of his mouth, and he knew the man +was a fanatic, a civilized fanatic, but desperately and even horribly in +earnest. A believer in torment, a man who held the vigorous faith that +makes for martyrdom and can also pile wood for the fires that burn the +bodies of others for the eventual welfare of their souls. +Unquestionably, the Rev. Francis Heath was a man not to be judged by an +average inch rule, and Coryndon thought over him as he listened to his +voice and watched his strained, tempest-tossed face. Whether he was +involved in the disappearance of Absalom or not, he recognized that +Heath was a strong man, and that his ill-balanced force would need very +little to make him a violent man. It surprised him less to think that +Hartley attached suspicion to the Rector of St. Jude's than it had at +first, and he left the church with a very clear impression of the +clergyman put carefully away beside his appreciation of Leh Shin's +assistant. He had caught just a glimpse of the personality of the man, +and was busy building it up bit by bit, working out his idea by first +trying to fathom the temperament that dwelt in the spare body and drove +and wore him hour after hour. + +The Rev. Francis Heath had paid some Chinaman to keep silence, but +though he might pay a Chinaman, he could do nothing with his own +conscience, and it was with a hidden adversary that he wrestled day and +night. Coryndon's face was pitiless as the face of a vivisecting +surgeon. Had she known of his mission, Mrs. Wilder might have beaten her +beautiful head on the stones under his feet, and she would have gained +nothing whatever of concession or mercy. + +Atkins and the Barrister were dining with Hartley that night, and as +Coryndon never cared to hurry over his dressing, he went at once to his +room and called Shiraz. + +"All is well, my Master," said Shiraz, in a low voice. "But it would be +wise if the Master were to curse his servant in a loud voice, since it +is expected that he will do so, and the monkey-folk in the servants' +quarter listen without, concealing their pleasure in the Sahib's wrath." + +When the proceedings terminated and Coryndon had accepted his servant's +long excuse for his delay, the doors were closed, Shiraz having first +gone out to shake his fist at Hartley's boy. + +"Thus much have I discovered, Lord Sahib," said Shiraz, when he had +explained that the house was in readiness and the necessary furniture +bought and stored temporarily at the shop of Leh Shin, the Chinaman. +"There is an old hate between these two men, he of the devil shop, and +the Chinaman, a hate as old as rust that eats into an iron bar." + +Coryndon lay back in his chair and listened without remark. + +"Among many lies told unto me, that is true; and again, among many lies, +it is also true that he had not, neither did he ever possess, the gold +lacquer bowl, on the subject of which my Master bade me question him. He +knows not how Mhtoon Pah found it, but he believes that it was through a +sorcery he practised, for the man is as full of evil as the chatti +lifted from the brink of the well is full of water." + +Coryndon smiled and glanced at Shiraz. + +"And you think so also, grandson of a Tucktoo, for though you are old, +your white hairs bring you no wisdom." + +"I am the Sahib's servant, but who knoweth the ways of devils, since +their footprints cannot be seen, neither upon the sand of the desert nor +in the snows of the great hills?" + +"Did he speak of Absalom?" + +"He told me, Protector of the Poor, that the boy, though of Christian +caste, was to Mhtoon Pah as the apple of his eye, and that he fed him +upon sweets from the vendor's stall. Let it be said, for thy wisdom to +unravel, that therefore Leh Shin felt mirth in his mind, knowing that +the heart of his foe was wrung as the _Dhobie_ wrings the soiled +garment." + +Shiraz fell silent and looked up from the floor at the face of his +master, who got up and stretched himself. + +"Is my bath ready, Shiraz?" + +"All is prepared, though the _pani walla_, a worker of iniquity, steals +the wood for his own burning; therefore, the water is not hot, and ill +is done to the good name of Hartley Sahib's house." + +When he was dressed he strolled into the drawing-room, and sat down at +the piano, playing softly until Hartley came in. + +"Shall you be away long, do you suppose?" he asked, looking with +interest at Coryndon's smooth, black head. + +"I may be, but it is impossible to tell. If I want you, I will send a +message by Shiraz." + +The dinner passed off without incident, and not once did Coryndon open +the secret door of his mind, to add to the strange store of facts he had +gathered there. He wanted nothing from Atkins, who knew less of the Rev. +Francis Heath than he did himself, and he had to sustain his rôle of +ignorance of the country. The two men stayed late, and it seemed to +Coryndon that when men talk they do more than talk, they tell many +things unconsciously. + +Perhaps, if people realized, as Coryndon realized, the value of +restrained speech, we should know less of our neighbours' follies and +weaknesses than we do. There was a noticeable absence of interest in +what anyone else had to say. Atkins had his own foible, Fitzgibbon his, +and Hartley, who knew more of the ways of men, a more interesting, but +not less egoistic platform from which he desired to speak. They seemed +to stalk naked and unashamed before the eyes of the one man who never +gave a definite opinion, and who never asserted his own theories or +urged his own philosophy of life. + +Coryndon listened because it amused him faintly, but he was glad when +the party broke up and they left. What a planet of words it was, he +thought, as he sat in his room and reflected over the day. Words that +ought to carry value and weight, but were treated like so many loose +pebbles cast into void space; and he wondered as he thought of it; and +from wondering at the wordy, noisy world in which he found himself, he +went on to wonder at the greater silence that was so much more powerful +than words. "The value of mystery," was the phrase that presented itself +to his mind. + +During the evening, three men had enjoyed all the pleasure of +self-betrayal, and, from the place where he stood, unable ever to +express anything of his own nature in easy speech, he wondered at them, +with almost childlike astonishment. Fitzgibbon, garrulous and loose of +tongue, Atkins, precise and easily heated to wrath, conscious of some +hidden fear that his dignity was not sufficiently respected, and +Hartley, who had something to say, but who oversaid it, losing grip +because of his very insistence. Not one of them understood the value of +reserve, and all alike strove to proclaim themselves in speech, not +knowing that speech is an unsound vehicle for the unwary, and that +personality disowns it as a medium. + +Out of the mouth of a man comes his own condemnation: let him prosper +who remembers this truth. The value of mystery, the value of silence, +and above all things, the supreme value of a tongue that is a servant +and not a master; Coryndon considered these values and wondered again at +the garrulity of men. Talk, the fluid, ineffectual force that fills the +world with noise, that kills illusions and betrays every latent +weakness; surely the high gods laughed when they put a tongue in the +mouth of man. He pinched his lips together and his eyes lighted with a +passing smile of mirth. + +"In Burma, there are no clappers to the bells," he said to himself. +"Each man must strike hard before sound answers to his hand, and truly +it is well to think of this at times." And, still amused by the fleeting +memory of the evening, he went to bed and slept. + + + + +XV + +IN WHICH THE FURTHERING OF A STRANGE COMRADESHIP IS CONTINUED, AND A +BEGGAR FROM AMRITZAR CRIES IN THE STREETS OF MANGADONE + + +Trade was slack in the shop of Leh Shin, the Chinaman. He had sat in the +odorous gloom and done little else than feel his arms and rub his legs, +for the greater part of the day. His new acquaintance, Shiraz, had taken +over possession of his goods, scrutinizing them with care before he did +so, in case the brass pots had been exchanged in the night for inferior +pots of smaller circumference, and in the end he had departed into his +own rat-burrow, two doors up the street, where his friend the Burman was +already established in a gloomy corner. Leh Shin heard of this through +his assistant, who had followed the coolie into the house, and +investigated the premises as he stood about, with offers of assistance +for his excuse. + +"They have naught with them, save only a box that has no lock upon it, +and also the boxes bought from thy shop, Leh Shin, but these are empty, +for I looked closely, when they talked in the hither room, where they +are minded to live. Jewels, didst thou say? Then that fox with the red +beard has sold them and the money is stored in some place of security." + +"Ah, ah," said the Chinaman, his eyes dull and fixed. + +"And 'ah, ah' to thee," retorted the assistant, who found the response +lacking in interest. "I would I knew where it was hidden." + +With a sudden change of manner he squatted near the ear of Leh Shin and +talked in a soft whisper. + +"Is not the time ripe, O wise old man, is not the hour come when thou +mayst go to the house of the white Sahib and demand a piece for closed +lips?" + +He pursed up his small mouth and pointed at it. + +Leh Shin shook his head. + +"I am already paid, and I will not demand further, lest he, whom we know +of, come no more. Drive not the spent of strength; since the price is +sufficient, I may not demand more, lest I sin in so doing." + +The assistant glared at him with angry eyes. + +"Fool, and thrice fool," he muttered under his breath, but Leh Shin did +not heed him, and did not even appear to hear what he said. For a long +time the old Chinaman seemed wrapped in his thought, and at last he got +up, and leaving the shop, went towards the principal Joss House that +faced the river. + +Coryndon had chosen the empty shop in the Colonnade for two reasons. It +was near Leh Shin, and near the strange assistant, who interested him +nearly as much as Leh Shin himself, and also it had the additional +advantage of being the last house in the block. A narrow alley full of +refuse of every description lay between it and the next block, and the +rickety house had doors that opened to the front, and to the side, and +by way of a dark lane directly from the back, making ingress or egress a +matter of wide choice. + +The shop front was shuttered, and left to the rats and cockroaches, and +up a flight of decrepit and shaky stairs, Shiraz had made what shift he +could to provide comfort for his master in the least dilapidated room in +the house. The walls were thin, and the plaster of the low ceiling was +smoke-grimed and dirty. The "bed of lesser value" was stored away in the +garret that lay beyond, and the prayer-mat was placed alongside the +toil-worn wooden _charpoy_, that was at least fairly clean and had all +four legs intact; and under this bed, the box that held a strange +assortment of clothing was put safely away. At the bottom of another +box, one of those bought by Coryndon himself from Leh Sin's assistant, +Shiraz had laid a suit of tussore silk, a few shirts and collars, and +anything that his master might require if he wished to revisit those +"glimpses of the moon" in the Cantonments; for Shiraz neglected nothing, +and had a genius for detail. + +A hurricane lamp, that threw impartial light upon all sides, stood on a +round table, and lighted the small room, and at one corner Coryndon sat, +clad in his Burmese _loongyi_ and white coat, thinking, his chin on his +folded hands. He had taught himself to think without paper or pens, and +to record his impressions with the same diligent care as though he wrote +them upon paper. He could command his thoughts, and direct them towards +one end and one issue, and he believed that notes were an abomination, +and that, in his Service, memory was the only safe recorder of progress. + +He was fully aware that he was hunting what might well be a cold line, +and he thought persistently of Leh Shin, putting the other possible +issues upon one side. Hartley had allowed himself to be dominated by a +predisposition to account for everything through Heath, and Coryndon +warned himself against falling into the same snare with Leh Shin. He +thought of the Chinaman's shop, and he knew that it was built on the +same plan as his own dwelling. There was no basement, and hardly any +room beyond the open ground-floor apartment and the two upper rooms. +Nowhere, in fact, to conceal anything; and its thin walls could not +contain a single cry for help or prayer for mercy. It was possible to +have drugged the boy and smothered him as he lay unconscious, but unless +the murderers had chosen this method, Absalom could not have met his end +in the Chinaman's shop. There remained the house by the river to +investigate, and there remained hours and days, and possibly weeks, of +close watching, that might reveal some tiny clue, and for that Coryndon +was determined to wait and watch until it lay in the hollow of his palm. + +Acting the part of a man more or less astray in his wits, he wandered +out either late or early, with the vague, aimless step of a dreamer, and +stood about, staring vacantly. Leh Shin's shop attracted him, and he +would squat on the ground either just outside the narrow entrance, or +just within, and, with flaccid, dropping mouth, stare at the hanging +array of secondhand clothes, making himself a source of endless +entertainment for the boy, who found him easy to annoy and distress, and +consequently practised upon him with unwearying pleasure. + +"Wise one, where are the jewels stolen by thy Master?" he asked, +throwing the dregs of his drink over the Burman's bare feet. + +"Jewels, jewels? Nay, friend, jewels are for the rich; for the Raj and +the Prince; I have never seen one to hold in my hand and to consider +closely. As for the Punjabi, he is no master of mine. I did him a +service--nay, I have forgotten what the service was, as I forget all +things, save only the guilt of the evil man, once my friend." + +"Tell me once more thy story." + +The Burman cowered down and whimpered. + +"Since I put it into speech for thy ears, my trouble of mind has grown, +like moonlight in the mist. I may not speak it again. They, yonder, +would hear," he pointed at the clothes, that napped a little in the hot, +heavy wind that came in strong with the scents and smells of the Bazaar. + +"Oh, oh," said the boy, with a crackling laugh. "I will tell them not to +speak or stir. I have power over them, and they shall repeat nothing. +Tell me the story, fool, or I will drive thee from thy corner, and the +children shall throw mud upon thee in the streets." + +Again and again the drama was repeated, and as Coryndon became part of +the day's amusement to Leh Shin's assistant, he grew to know exactly +what both the boy and his master did during the hours of the day. +Unknown and unsuspected, the Burman went in and out as they went in and +out. He appeared at the house by the river, he sat with his legs +dangling over the drop from the Colonnade into the streets, and he wore +out the hours in idleness, the dust of the Bazaar powdering his hair and +griming his face, but behind his vacant eyes, his quick brain was alive +and burning, and he felt after Leh Shin with invisible hands. + +Coryndon was never at the mercy of one idea only, and he began to see, +very soon after he had investigated the two houses--the ramshackle shop +and the riverside den--that if he intended to progress he could not +afford to sit in the street and drink in the café opposite Leh Shin's +dwelling for an interminable space of weeks. He had limitless patience, +but he was quick of action, and saw any flaw in his own system as soon +as a flaw appeared. Leh Shin was suspicious, and took precautions when +he went out at night, and this in itself made it dangerous to be +continually upon his heels in a character he knew and could recognize. +So long as there was anything to gain by remaining in his Burmese +clothing, Coryndon used it, avoiding the Chinaman and cultivating the +society of his assistant, but he soon began to realize that if he were +to follow as closely as he desired, he could not do so in his present +disguise. + +All day he sat watching the crowded street, shivering, though the sun +was warm, and breaking his silence with complaints that the fever was +upon him, and that he was sick, and that he could not eat. He whimpered +and whined so persistently that the assistant drove him off, for he +feared infection, and fancied he might be sickening for the plague. + +"Neither come thou hither, until thou art fully recovered," he added, +"lest I use my force upon thee." + +If a certain beggar who had sat for a whole month outside the Golden +Temple at Amritzar was to become reincarnated in the person of the idiot +Burman, the Burman must have a reason to offer to the inquisitive for +his temporary absence. Sickness is sudden and active in the streets of +any Bazaar, and when Shiraz learnt that he was to keep within the house +and report the various stages of the fever of his friend, he salaamed +and drew out the battered box from under the bed, and folded away the +_loongyi_ and coat with care. + +Coryndon explained his plan of coming and going when the streets were +silent, and when he could do so without being noticed. If he came in the +daytime and asked for alms, Shiraz was to open and call him in to +receive food, but he would only do this in great emergency, as the +beggar did not wish to establish any connection with the Punjabi. If, on +the other hand, it was a matter of necessity for the Burman to reappear, +Shiraz was to walk along the street and bestow alms in the beggar's +bowl; and on the first opportunity Coryndon would return and make the +necessary change. The first difficulty was to get out of the house, and +to be in the street by twilight, when the close operation of watching +would have to begin. + +"The doors of the merciful are ever open to the poor; yet there is great +danger in going out by the way of the Bazaar." + +"There is a closed door at the back that I have well prepared," said +Coryndon, pulling a bit of sacking over his bent shoulders. "Remember +that an oiled hinge opens like the mouth of a wise man." + +The addition of one to the brotherhood of vagrancy that is part of every +Eastern Bazaar calls the attention of no one, and being a newcomer, +Coryndon contented himself with accepting a pitch in a district where +alms were difficult to obtain and small in value, but his humility did +not keep him there long, and he made a place for himself at the top of +Paradise Street, in the shadow of an arched doorway, where a house with +carved shutters and horseshoe windows was slowly mouldering through the +first stages of decay. From here he could see down the Colonnade, and +also watch the shop of Mhtoon Pah, as he alternately cursed or blessed +the passers, according to their gifts or their apathy. + +The heavy, slouching figure of the assistant went by to take up his +master's place in the waterside house, and the beggar wasted no time in +glancing after him. He knew his destination, and had no need to trouble +about the ungainly, walloping creature, who kicked him as he passed. It +was fresh, out in the street, and pleasant, and in spite of his musty +rags and his hidden face, Coryndon enjoyed the change of occupation. + +He saw the place much as it had been on the evening of July the 29th. +Mhtoon Pah came out and sat on his chair, smoking a cheroot, and +observing the street. In a good humour it would appear, for when the +beggar cringed past and sent up his plea for assistance, the curio +dealer felt in his pouched waist-sash and threw him a coin. + +"Be it requited to thee in thy next life, O Shrine-builder," murmured +the beggar, and he squatted down on the ground a little further on. + +He saw Shiraz come out and stand at the door, preparatory to setting +forth to the Mosque. Saw him lock it carefully and proceed slowly and +with great dignity through the crowd. He passed close to the beggar, but +took no notice of him, lifting his garments lest they should touch him, +and for this the beggar cursed him, to the entertainment of those who +listened. + +Blue shadows like wraiths of smoke enfolded the street at the far end, +and the clatter and noise grew stronger as the houses filled after the +day of toil. In one of the prosperous dwellings a gramophone was set +near the window, and the song floated out over the street, the +music-hall chorus from the merchant's house mingled in with the cry of +vendors hawking late wares at cheap prices. + +A hundred years ago, except for the gramophone and an occasional +_gharry_, the street might have been the same. The same amber light that +held only a short while after sunset, the same blue misty shadows, the +same concourse of colour and caste, the same talk of food, and the same +idle, loitering and inquisitive crowd. + +Coryndon watched it with eyes of love. Half of his nature belonged to +this place and was part of it. He understood their idleness, their small +pleasures, their kindness and their cruelty; and though the dominance of +the white race was strongest in him, he loved these half-brothers of his +because he understood them. + +Two young _Hypongyi_ came past where he sat, and as they had nothing +else to give, gave him their blessing and a look of pity. + +"He did ill in his former life," said the elder of the two. "The balance +is adjusted thus, and only thus." + +"Great is the justice of the Law," replied the other, rubbing his shaven +crown reflectively, and then some noise of music or laughter attracted +them and they ran up the street to see what it might be, for they were +young, and there was no reason why they should not enjoy simple +pleasures. + +Coryndon knew that Leh Shin would certainly go to the Joss House that +night, and he knew that upon these occasions the Chinaman prayed long, +and that it would be dark before he entered the place of worship. For +another hour his time was free to watch the street, and without +attaching any particular consequence to the fact, he saw Mhtoon Pah get +up, rub his hands on his knees and lift his chair inside the door, which +he closed with a noise of dragging chains and creaking bolts. + +Slowly the last gleam withdrew, and the dust lost its effect of amber, +and the trees grew dark, and little whispering winds clapped the palm +leaves one on another with a dry, barking sound. Children still screamed +and played, and dogs yelped and offered to show fight, and still people +on foot came and went, and the dusk drew down a veil and the greater +noise subsided into a lower key. + +The beggar was no longer there, his place was empty and he had gone. + + + + +XVI + +IN WHICH LEH SHIN IS BREATHED UPON BY A JOSS, AND EXPERIENCES THE TERROR +OF A MAN WHO TOUCHES THE VEIL BEHIND WHICH THE IMMORTALS DWELL. + + +Of all the savage desires that riot in the hearts of men, the lust of +revenge is probably the strongest. Civilization has done its best to +control and curb wild impulse; but as long as a cruel wrong rankles, or +a fierce longing to square an old account remains, there will be hands +thrust out to take the naked sword of the Lord into their own finite +grasp, and there will be men who will be content to pay the price so +that they may see the desire of their eyes. + +The Oriental has above the white races an illimitable patience in +awaiting his hour for retribution, for the heart of the East does not +forget and can hold a purpose silently through the dust-blown, sunlit +years, waiting for the dawn of the appointed day. + +When Leh Shin set out towards the Joss House, he was repeating a +procedure that had become constant with him of late. He knew that a Joss +was revengeful and terrible in matters of hate, therefore his prayer +would be understood in the strange region of power where the Great Ones +dwelt. His religion was a mixture of the teachings of Buddha, Confucius, +and Shinto, for long absence from his own country and constant +association with the Burmese and Japanese had blended and confused the +original belief that he had learnt in far-away Canton. To this basis was +added the grossest form of superstition, and the wildest fancies of a +brain muddled with the fumes of opium, but the one thing clear to him +was, that a Joss, though an immortal being, was able to comprehend +hatred. + +The gods punished terribly, slaying with plague and pestilence, +destroying life by flood and years of famine, and so Leh Shin knew that +they were very like men, taking full advantage of their fearful power +and punishing the smallest neglect with the utmost rigour. He could +appeal to a great invisible cruel brain and demand assistance for his +own limited desire for revenge, knowing that it was an attribute of +those whose help he sought, but he went in fear, with pricking nerves, +because his belief was strong in the power of the monsters he +worshipped. + +The Joss House stood in a wide street near the river; a stone courtyard +separated it from the thoroughfare, and the building itself was raised +on a terrace, led up to by two shallow flights of steps. The roof was a +marvel of sea-green mosaic, coiled over by dragons with flaming red +tongues and staring glass eyes, each dragon a wonder of fretted fins and +ivory teeth and claws. Upon each of the three roofs was set relief +mosaic, of beautiful workmanship, representing houses and ships and +bridges, with tiny men and women, and little trees, all as small as a +child's plaything, but complete, proportioned and entire. Huge stone +pillars covered with devils and crawling lizards supported the long +portico that ran the full length of the building, and between each +pillar an immense paper lantern gleamed like a dim moon. + +Leh Shin stood outside for a few moments and then plunged in, like a man +who is not sure of his nerve and cannot afford to wait too long lest his +determination to face what lay inside should fail him. On feast days the +Joss House was a gay place, full of lights and people crowding in and +out, and there was no room for fear, for even a Joss is not alarming in +company with many men, but when Leh Shin went in, the place was +deserted, and it seemed to him that the unseen power was terribly near +in the darkness. + +It was a vast, lofty building inside, supported by gold pillars and +black pillars, and in the centre near the door was a tank-shaped well +where pots of flowering plants and palms were set with no particular eye +to regularity or effect. As they shivered and rustled in the dark, they +were full of a suggestion of the fear that made Leh Shin's heart as cold +as a stone in a deep pool. Raised on a jade plinth, a low round pillar +stood directly in front of the rose-red curtains that were drawn across +the sanctuary space, and on the top of the pillar a bronze jar held one +scented stick, that burned slowly, like a winking, drowsy eye, its slow +spiral of incense creeping up into the air and losing itself in the high +arches of the pointed roof. Between the pillar and the sanctuary +itself, was a small table covered with an embroidered shawl, worked in +spangles that glittered and shone, and beneath the table were a number +of smooth stones. + +Leh Shin locked his hands together and passed up the aisle, close to +where the palm trees rustled and stirred, and fear was upon him like +that of a hungry dog. He crossed a line of light cast by some candles, +and it seemed to him that the curtains moved as he approached. The Joss +House was apparently empty, and yet it did not seem empty. Invisible +eyes watched behind the carved screens that shut out the priests' houses +on either side, invisible ears might easily catch the lowest whisper of +his prayer. Soundless impressions of moving things that had no shape +haunted his consciousness, and he started in panic as his own shadow +fell before him when he stepped across the burning candles and slid into +the close alley between the table and the shrine. + +He bent down suddenly and, feeling on the cold marble of the floor, took +up two of the stones and beat them together with the loud clapping noise +which proclaimed a suppliant. Bowed in the close space, he repeated his +prayer the requisite number of times, and it seemed to Leh Shin that the +Joss heard and accepted: the Joss who took visible shape in his mind, +with a face half-human and half-bestial, and who capered with a drawn +sword in his hand. + +Over his head the heavy curtains swayed again, and the tittering noise +from a nest of bats sounded like ghostly laughter. His prayer had drawn +power to his aid, out of the unknown place where the gods live, and +loosed it in response to his cry. He was only Leh Shin, a poor Chinaman +who kept a miserable shop in the native quarter and an opium den down +where the river water choked and gurgled at night, but he felt that he +had touched something in the terrible shadows, and once more he beat the +stones together, his face pouring with sweat. As the noise echoed up +again, the last candle fell dying into a yellow pool of melted wax, and +went out with an expiring flicker; and Leh Shin beat his hands against +the darkness that shut upon him like a wall. He sprang to his feet and +ran, and as he went wings seemed to bear down behind him. There was +terror alive in the Joss House, and before that terror he fled panting +and trembling, fearful that hands would close upon his black garments +and drag him back, holding him until he went mad. As he made for the +door he fancied he saw a shadowy form move in the gloom and clear his +path, and it added the last touch of panic to his mind. + +He leaned against an outer pillar for support, and gradually the noise +of the street drew him back again to reality and to the solid facts of +life once more. He had been badly scared, for in some cases when nothing +that can be expressed in words takes place, an infinitely greater thing, +that no words can express, has occurred mentally. To Leh Shin's +bewildered mind it was clear that he had actually felt a Joss breathe +upon him, and that he had heard its footsteps follow him across the +marble floor; the Joss who had shaken the curtains and extinguished the +candles. + +Still bewildered, Leh Shin crossed the courtyard and sat down on the +kerb; his head swam and he felt along his legs with shaking hands. A +belated fruit seller went by, and he bought a handful of dates, stuck on +a small rod and looking like immense beetles, and as he ate his +confidence in life gradually returned. The Joss was at a safe distance +in his house and there was the street to give courage to his heart; the +street where men walked safe and secure, and where a worse fear than the +fear of death did not prowl secretly. + +After a little while, he got up from the stifling dust and walked slowly +on. The streets flared with lights and the gold letters painted large on +signboards in huge Chinese characters shone out, making a brave show. +There were open restaurants where he could have gone in, and there were +houses of entertainment, hung with paper lanterns, that invited passers +with a sound of music, but Leh Shin continued his mechanical walk, +having another purpose in his mind. + +He turned out of the lighted glare of the shops and struck along a back +alley, where one street lamp gave the sole illumination, and stopping at +a low, arched door cut deep in a wall, he knocked and was admitted. +Inside the entrance was another door heavily clamped with iron, which +gave admission down a long, narrow passage to a room beyond. It was a +small room, not unlike a prison, with heavy iron bars against the +corridors, and it was quite bare of furniture except for two deal +tables, around which a crowd of men stood playing for money with +impassive faces and greedy, grasping hands. There was no mixture of race +among the men who gambled; they were all Chinese, most of them clad in +indigo-blue trousers and tight vests, though some of them wore white +shirts and rakish straw hats. The young men had close-clipped hair and +looked like clever bull-terriers, but the older men wore long pigtails +wound round their heads in black, rope-like coils. The noise of dominoes +thrown out by the man who held the bank and the rattle of dice were +almost the only sounds in the room. + +Under one table there was a small shrine, where a diminutive Joss +presided over the fortunes of Chance, but Leh Shin did not go to it as +was his usual habit before he began to play. He even eyed it uneasily +and kept at the further end of the room. + +He played with varying success for an hour, for two hours, and the third +hour was running out before he shuffled off down the close passage, his +scanty winnings tied in the corner of a rag stuffed into his belt, and +was let out through the heavily barred doors into the street. The +alley-way was deserted, and Leh Shin went down the kennel into the open +place with the walk of a man who has something definite to do. A beggar, +who had been sitting huddled under the wall of a house opposite, craned +his neck out of the shadows, and followed him quickly. + +Leh Shin had passed this last hour deliberately, so as to bring himself +to some appointed place neither earlier nor later than he desired to +get there, and Coryndon woke to the excitement of the chase again as he +followed along the Colonnade. It was easy to walk quickly under the roof +that ran from the entrance down to the turn that led into Paradise +Street, and Leh Shin did not even pause as he passed his own doorway but +made on rapidly until he came out at the far end. The hour was very +late, and the street silent. A drop in the temperature had driven the +sleepers who usually preferred the open to the closeness of walls, +within, and the whole double row of houses slept with gaping windows and +open doors. + +Mhtoon Pah's curio shop was entirely closed. Every window had outer +shutters fastened, and no gleam of light showed anywhere, up or down the +high narrow front. When Leh Shin stopped in front of the doorway the +beggar sat down opposite to him a little further down the street, his +head bowed on his bosom. He watched Leh Shin prowl carefully round and +climb with monkey-like agility from the rails to the window-ledge, where +he peered in through the shutters, raising a broken lath to see into the +interior. + +Coryndon watched him with intent interest. The night was moonless, he +knew that if a match were struck in the interior of the shop it would +shine through the raised lath, and it was for that sight that his eyes +strained and ached with intense concentration. The patience of the +Chinaman made Coryndon feel that he was watching for something definite +to happen, and at length a yellow bar cut suddenly across the dark. +Coryndon's heart beat so loud that he feared its sound might be heard +across the narrow street, and he gripped his hands together. The curio +shop was no longer dark, for someone had come in with a lamp; Coryndon +crept forward, his eyes on the Chinaman, who had slipped back on to the +ground and had raced up the steps, beating against the door violently. + +"Come out, father of lies, come out and speak with me. I have news of +thy Absalom." + +The beggar was at the foot of the steps now, close beside the dancing +image, who smiled and called his attention to the rigid figure of Leh +Shin. + +"So thou hast news for me, unclean one? Of this shall the police hear +full knowledge two hours after dawn. Where hast thou hidden the body of +the boy who was the light of mine eyes, who was ever eager and honest in +business?" + +"Thou knowest, traitor," said the Chinaman, his voice hoarse with +passion, "what is dark unto others is clear unto me. Have I not the tale +of thy years written in the book of my mind?" + +For a moment there was dead silence, and then a voice full of smooth +malice and cruelty made answer to Leh Shin. + +"Get thee to thy bed, fool." + +"I wait," Leh Shin's voice cracked and trembled, "and when the hour that +is already written for thy destruction comes like the night-bat, it is +_I_ who shall proclaim it to thee; thus I have demanded, and thus it +shall fall out." + +"O fruitful boaster, O friend of many years, thy words cause me great +mirth. Get thee to thy kennel, lest I do indeed come forth and twist thy +vulture's neck." + +A laugh of scorn was the only response to Mhtoon Pah's threat, and the +Chinaman turned and came down the steps. + +"Alms, alms," whined a sleepy voice. "The poor are the children of the +Holy One. I am blind and I know not the faces of men. Alms, alms, that +thy merit may be written in the book." + +"Ask of him that is in that house," said Leh Shin, pointing to the curio +shop. "Strike him with thy pestilence that his fatness fall from him and +his bones melt, and I will give thee golden rewards." + +The secret passion of the words was so intense that the beggar was +silenced, and Leh Shin passed on. He went from Paradise Street to a +small burrow near the Colonnade, and turned into a mean house where the +paper lantern still burned in token that the owners were awake. It was +quite clean inside, and divided into large cubicles. In each cubicle was +a table, covered with oilcloth, at the head of which was placed a red +lacquer pillow and a little glass lamp that gave the only light needed +in the long, low room. On the tables lay Burmen and Chinamen, some rigid +in drugged sleep, and some smoking immense pipes with small, cup-like +receptacles that held the opium. The proprietor was alert and wakeful as +he flitted about, an American cigarette between his lips, in this +strange garden of sleep. + +"I am weary," said Leh Shin. "Let me rest here." + +"It is great honour," replied the small, wizened old man, with the +laugh. "What of thine own house by the river?" + +"My limbs fail me. To-night my assistant supplies the needs of those who +ask, for I had a business." + +"And I trust thy business hath prospered with thee?" + +Leh Shin stretched himself out on a table near the door. + +"I await the hour of prosperity,"--he twisted a needle in the brown mass +that was offered to him and held it over the lamp. "Evil are the days of +a life whilst an old grudge burns like hot charcoal in the heart." + +"It is even so," agreed the proprietor, and he hurried away from the +noose of talk that Leh Shin would have cast around him. + +The beggar, having followed Leh Shin as far as the opium den, returned +along the Colonnade and knocked at the door of the house where Shiraz +waited anxiously for his master. + +"Is my bath prepared, Shiraz? I must wash before I sleep, and I shall +sleep late." + +Coryndon was weary. No one who has not watched through hours of strain +and suspense knows the utter weariness of mind and body that follows +upon the long effort of close attention, and he fell upon his bed in a +huddled heap and slept for hour after hour, worn out in brain and body. + + + + +XVII + +TELLS HOW CORYNDON LEARNS FROM THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH WHAT THE REV. +FRANCIS HEATH NEVER TOLD HIM. + + +When Coryndon sat up in his bed, and recalled himself with a jerk from +the drowsiness of night to the wakefulness of broad daylight, he called +Shiraz to give to him instructions. + +After dark, his master told him, he was going to return to the +Cantonments, and during his absence there were some matters which he had +decided to leave unreservedly in the hands of Shiraz. He was to +cultivate his acquaintance with Leh Shin, the Chinaman, worming his way +into his confidence and encouraging him to speak fully of the old hatred +that was still like live fire between him and the wealthy curio dealer. +Revenge may or may not take the shape and substance of the original +wrong done, and the limited intelligence of the Chinaman would suggest +payment in the same coin, so it was necessary for Coryndon to know the +actual facts of the ancient grudge. Further than this, Shiraz was to go +to the shop of Mhtoon Pah, and discover anything he could in the course +of conversation with the Burman. + +"Mark well all that is said, that when I return it may be disclosed to +mine eyes through thy spectacles," he concluded, tying the ragged ends +of his head-scarf over his forehead. + +He went down the staircase with a slow, dragging step, leaning on the +rail of the Colonnade when he got out into the street, and halting, with +a vacant stare, outside the shop of Leh Shin. + +"So thy devils have not yet caught thee and scalded thee with oil, or +burned thee in quicklime?" jeered the boy, as he watched a coolie sweep +out the shop. + +He was chewing a raw onion, and he swung his legs idly, for there was +nothing to do, and, on the whole, he was glad to have the mad Burman to +bait for half an hour's entertainment. + +"The sickness is heavy upon me, my legs are loaded as with wet sand, and +my mouth is parched like a rock in the desert," whined the Burman +plaintively. + +"Nay, nay, not _thy_ legs, and _thy_ tongue. The legs and the mouth of +the evil man, thy friend, O dolt." + +The Burman shook his head stupidly. + +"The will of the Holy Ones is that I shall recover, and my friend has +said that I shall go a journey. I go by the terrain this night at +sunset." + +"Whither doth he send thee, unclean one?" + +The Burman smiled with a sudden look of cunning. + +"That is a word unspoken, and neither will I tell it. Thy desire to know +what concerns thee not is as great as thy fatness." + +With a doggedness that is often part of some forms of mania, the Burman +squatted in the dust, and under no provocation could he be induced to +speak. After midday he indicated by lifting his fingers to his mouth +that he intended to go in search of food; having worked Leh Shin's +assistant into a state of perspiring wrath by the simple process of +reiterating in pantomime that he was dumb. It must be admitted that +Coryndon got no small amount of pleasure out of his morning's +entertainment, and he doubled himself up as though in pain as he dragged +himself back to the house. + +The vanished beggar's tracks were entirely obliterated, and when the +Burman went off in a _gharry_ in company with Shiraz, the whole street +knew that he was being sent away on a secret mission of great +importance. + +To know something that other people do not know is to be in some way +their superior. It is a popular fallacy to believe that we all of us are +gifted with special insight. The dullest bore believes it of himself, +but when it comes to the possession of an absolute fact superiority +becomes unmistakable, particularly in circumscribed localities, and Leh +Shin's assistant remembered how the sudden dumbness of the crazy Burman +had irked his own soul. He told a little of what he professed to know, +and having done so, refused to admit more, and so it was current in the +Bazaar that the friend of the rich Punjabi was gone to receive money +paid for jewels, and that the place of his destination was known only to +Leh Shin's assistant, who, having sworn on oath, would by no means +divulge the name of the place. + +Even Leh Shin, who awoke late, appeared interested, and asked questions +that made the gross, flabby boy think hard before he replied; and the +mystery that attached itself to the departure of the Burman lent an +added interest to Shiraz, who returned after the usual hour of prayer at +the Mosque, and paced slowly up the street, meditating upon a verse from +the Koran. The evening light softened and the shadows grew long, making +the Colonnade dark a full hour before the street outside was wrapped in +the smoky gloom of twilight and the charcoal fires were lighted to cook +the evening meal, and by the time that the first clear globes of +electric light dotted Paradise Street Coryndon was back in his room and +dressed ready to go out to dinner. + +Hartley received the wanderer with enthusiasm, and began at once by +telling him that he had an invitation for him which was growing stale by +long keeping. Mrs. Wilder was giving a very small party and both the +Head of the Police and his friend were invited. + +"I accepted definitely for myself, and conditionally for you," said +Hartley cheerfully. "Now I will ring up Wilder and tell him that the +prodigal has reappeared, and that you will come." + +Coryndon submitted to the inevitable with a good grace; it was one of +his best social qualifications, and arose from a keen sensitiveness that +made it nearly impossible for him ever to disappoint anyone. He had +hoped for a quiet evening, when he might expect to get to bed early and +have time to think over every tiny detail of his time in the Mangadone +Bazaar; but as this was not possible, he agreed with sufficient alacrity +to deceive his kind host. + +His face was drawn and tired, and his eyes were heavy; he noticed this +as he glanced into his glass, but after all it did not matter. His +social importance was small, and for to-night he was nothing more than +an adjunct of Hartley, a mere postscript put in out of formal +politeness. He was not going in order to please Mrs. Wilder--though, as +she appeared on his mental list of names, she had her place in the +structure that filled his mind--but to please Hartley. Any time would +have done for Mrs. Wilder, she was but a cypher in the total, but if he +had begged off to-night he would have had to hurt Hartley. Coryndon +could never get away from the other man's point of view; it dogged him +in great things and in small, and he was obliged to realize Hartley's +pleasure in seeing him, and his further pleasure in carrying him off to +a house where he himself enjoyed life thoroughly. Coryndon could as +easily have disappointed a child, or been cruel to a small, wagging +puppy as to Hartley in his present mood. + +He knew that he would have to shut the door upon his dominating thought, +unless something occurred to open it during the evening. Women liked to +play with fire, and he wondered if Mrs. Wilder would show any +inclination to fiddle with gunpowder, but he hardly expected that she +would, though she had played some part in the extensive drama that +reached from Heath's bungalow to the Colonnade in the Chinese quarter, +leaving a gap between that his brain struggled with in vain. + +It was like the imaginable space between life and death, where both +conditions existed, and one was the key to the other. Something was +lacking. One small master touch wanting to lay the whole thing bare of +mystery. Coryndon's weary eyes reflected the state of his mind. He felt +like an inventor who is baffled for the lack of a tiny clue that makes +the impossible natural and easy, or a composer who hears a refrain and +cannot call it into birth in clear defiant chords. To think too much +when thought cannot carry the mind over the limiting barrier is to spend +substance on fruitless effort, and Coryndon deliberately shut the door +of his mind and put the key away before he started out with Hartley. + +The night was clear as the two men went off together hatless through the +soft moonlight. Neither Coryndon nor Hartley talked much as they walked +by a short cut across the park to the Wilders' bungalow, a servant +carrying a lantern going before them like a dim will-o'-the-wisp; the +yellow lamplight paling into an ineffectual blur against the clear +moonlight. + +"I think it is only ourselves," said Hartley after a long pause. "You +are looking a bit done, Coryndon, so you'll be glad if it isn't a late +night." + +Coryndon agreed, and conversation flagged again. They crossed the road, +turned up the avenue and were lost in the shadows of the trees, coming +out again into a white bay of light outside the door. + +Everyone, man or woman, who is endowed at birth with a sensitive nature +is subject to occasional inrushes of detachment that without warning cut +him off from realities for moments or hours, converting everyday matters +into the consistency of dream-life. It was through this medium that +Coryndon saw Mrs. Wilder when he came into the large upstairs +drawing-room. It would have annoyed her to know that she appeared +indefinite and shadowy to his mind, just as it annoyed Alice when she +was told that she was only "Something in the Red King's dream," but +Coryndon could not help his sensations. Mrs. Wilder was smiling with her +careless, easy, confident smile, and yet he saw only an unaccounted bit +of the puzzle, that he could not fit in. She was dressed in the latest +fashion, and talked with a kind of regal amiability, but nevertheless, +she was not a real woman, a real hostess, or a positive entity; she was +vague, and the touch of her floating personality added to the baffled +sensation that drained Coryndon's mind of concentrated force, and made +him physically exhausted. + +Wilder had something to say to Hartley, and Coryndon handed himself over +like a coat or an umbrella to Mrs. Wilder, who, he knew, was placing a +low valuation upon him, and was already a little impatient at his lack +of vitality. She was calling him a bore, behind her fine, hard eyes, and +having exhausted Mangadone in a few sentences, wondered what sort of +bore he really was. There were golf bores, fishing bores, and shooting +bores, but Coryndon hardly appeared to belong to any of those families, +and she began to suspect him of "superiority," a type of bore aggressive +to others of his cult. Mrs. Wilder did not tolerate a type to which she +herself undoubtedly owned to some slight connection, and she gave up all +effort to awaken interest in the slim, weary young man, who looked +half-asleep. + +"Mr. Heath ought to be here directly," she said, in her loud, clear +voice. "Draycott, don't forget to ask him to say grace." + +If she had got up and taken Coryndon by the shoulders and shaken him, +the effect could not have been more marked and sudden. All the dull +feeling of detachment cleared off at once, and he knew that his senses +were sharp and acute; his bodily fatigue fell away, and as he moved in +his chair his eyes turned towards the door. + +"I wish he would hurry," growled Wilder, a prey to the pessimism of the +half-hour before dinner. "He is inexcusably late as it is." + +As though his words had summoned the Rev. Francis Heath, footsteps +mounting the staircase followed Wilder's remark, and the clergyman came +into the room. Immediately upon his coming, conversation became general, +and a few moments later the party was seated round a small table kept +for intimate gatherings, and placed in the centre of the large +teak-panelled room. An arrangement of plumbago and maidenhair, and pale +blue shaded candles casting a dim light, carried out the saxe blue +effect that Mrs. Wilder had evolved with the assistance of a ladies' +paper that dealt with "effective and original table decoration." + +In spite of Mrs. Wilder's efforts, assisted as they were by Hartley, +conversation flagged for the first two courses. Heath was not exactly +awkward, but he was conscious of the fact that he and Hartley had had an +unpleasant interview, buried by the passing of a few weeks, but by no +means peaceful in its grave. There was just a suggestion of strain in +his manner, and he was evidently carrying through a duty in being there +at all, rather than out for pleasant society. + +Coryndon observed him carefully, particularly when he talked to his +hostess. If she was helping to screen him, the clergyman was too honest +not to show some sign of gratitude either in his manner or in his +deep-set eyes, and yet no such indication was evident. Coryndon +disassociated his mind from the history of the case, and saw austerity +flavoured with a near approach to disapproval. Judging by externals, the +Rev. Francis Heath held no very exalted opinion of his hostess. + +"She has done nothing for him," he said to himself. "If obligation +exists, it is the other way round," and he proceeded to watch Mrs. +Wilder's manner towards her clerical guest with heightening interest. + +Usually she was very sure of herself, more especially so in her own +house, and surrounded with the evidences of her husband's official rank. +When Mrs. Wilder talked to the poor, insignificant Padré who could be of +no real social assistance to her, she changed her manner, the manner +that she directed pointedly towards Coryndon, and became quelled and +softened. + +Mrs. Wilder, propitiatory and diffident, was, Coryndon felt, Mrs. Wilder +caught out somehow and somewhere; perhaps on the night of the 29th of +July, and as he considered it, Coryndon knew that the shoe was on a much +smaller foot than Hartley had measured for it, and that the secret +understanding between Heath and Mrs. Wilder was one-sided in its +benefits. + +Hartley had recounted the story of the fainting fit as a landmark by +which he remembered where he was himself, and, adding this fact to what +he observed, Coryndon put Mrs. Wilder on one side and mentally drew a +red-ink line under her total. He knew all he needed to know about her, +and she had no further interest for his mind. He talked to her husband +when once he had satisfied himself definitely, and as dinner wore on the +atmosphere became more genial and less strained than when it had begun. + +"By the way," said Wilder carelessly, "was it ever discovered how that +fellow Rydal got clear of the country?" + +He spoke to Hartley, but Heath, who had been talking across the table to +Coryndon, lost his place, stumbled and recovered himself with +difficulty, and then lapsed into silence. Hartley had a few things to +say about Rydal, but chief among them was the astounding fact that he +had dodged the police, who were watching the wharves and jetties, and, +so far as he knew, the man had never left Mangadone. + +"Do you suppose that he got away disguised?" + +"Impossible," said Hartley, with decision. "He was a big, fair +Englishman with blue eyes. Nothing on earth could have made him look +anything else. It was too risky to attempt that game." + +Mrs. Wilder was not interested in Rydal, and she sprayed Coryndon with +light, pointless conversation, leaving Heath to his meditations for the +moment. Hartley would have enjoyed a private talk with his hostess +because he loved her platonically, and because it was impossible he was +distrait and jerky, trying to appear cordial towards Heath. It was one +of those evenings that make everyone concerned wonder why they ever +began it, and though Coryndon was of all the invited guests the one who +found least favour in the eyes of his hostess, he was the only one who +felt glad that he had come, and was perfectly convinced that it had been +worth it. + +The Rev. Francis Heath rose early to take his leave; and there was a +distinct impression of relief when he had gone. + +"That Padré is like wet blotting-paper," said Wilder, when he came back +into the drawing-room. "No more duty invitations, Clarice, or else wait +until I am out in camp." + +"He is a bore," said Mrs. Wilder, throwing her late guest to the sharks +without remorse. "But I suppose he can't help it. He may have something +to worry him." She just indicated her point with a glance at Hartley, +who murmured incoherently and became interested in his drink. + +"Parsons are all alike," said Wilder, who fully believed that he stated +an obvious fact. "I feel as if I ought to apologize for not going to +church whenever I meet one." + +"He _is_ a bore," repeated Mrs. Wilder. "But he is finished with for the +present." + +Coryndon looked up. + +"I suppose one is inclined to mix up a man with his profession, as +people often mix up nationalities with races, forgetting that they are +absolutely apart. Heath is not my idea of a clergyman." + +"And what is your idea?" asked Mrs. Wilder, with a smile that was +slightly encouraging. + +"A man with less temperament," said Coryndon slowly. "Heath lacks a +certain commonplace courage, because he feels things too much. He is not +altogether honest with himself or his congregation, because he has the +protective instinct over-developed. If I had a secret I should feel that +it was perfectly safe with Heath." + +A slow red stain showed itself on Mrs. Wilder's cheek, and she gave a +hard, mechanical laugh. + +"Are these the deductions of one evening? No wonder you are a silent +man, Mr. Coryndon." + +If Coryndon had been a cross-examining counsel instead of a guest at a +dinner-party, he would have thanked Mrs. Wilder politely and told her +that she might "step down." As it was, he assured her that he was only +attracted by certain personalities, and that, usually speaking, he did +not analyse his impressions. + +"He is a bore," said Mrs. Wilder, making the statement for the third +time that evening, and thus disposing of Heath definitely. + +"It wasn't up to the usual mark," said Hartley, half-apologetically as +he and Coryndon walked home together. "I felt so awkward about meeting +Heath." He paused and looked at Coryndon, longing to put a question to +him, but not wishing to break their agreement as to silence. + +"Tell me about Rydal," said Coryndon in the voice of a man who shifts a +conversation adroitly. "I don't remember your having mentioned the +case." + +Hartley had not much to tell. The man had been in a position of +responsibility in the Mangadone Bank, and Joicey had given information +against him the very day he absconded. Rydal was married, and the cruel +part of the story lay in the fact that he had deserted his wife on her +deathbed, fully aware that she was dying. + +"She died the evening he left, or was supposed to have left. At all +events, the evening he disappeared." + +"And the date?" + +Coryndon's eyes were turned on Hartley's face, and he heard him laugh. + +"You'll hardly believe it, but it happened, like everything else, on the +twenty-ninth of July." + +"Can your boy look after me for a few days?" Coryndon asked quietly. "I +was not able to bring my bearer with me, and I may have to be here for a +little longer than I had expected." + +"Of course he can." + +They walked into the bungalow together, and it surprised and distressed +Hartley to see how white and weary the face of his friend showed under +the hanging lamp. + +"I ought not to have dragged you out," he said remorsefully. + +"I am very glad you did." + +There was so much sincerity in Coryndon's tone that Hartley was +satisfied, and he saw him into his room before he went off, whistling to +his dog and calling out a cheery "Good night." + + + + +XVIII + +THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH UNLOCKS HIS DOOR AND SHOWS WHAT LIES BEHIND + + +When Coryndon made up his mind to any particular course of action and +time pressed, he left nothing to chance. Under ordinary circumstances, +he was perfectly ready to wait and let things happen naturally; and so +greatly did he adhere to this belief in chance that he always hesitated +to make anything deliberately certain. Had he felt that he could allow +time to bring circumstance into his grasp, he would have preferred to do +so, but, as he sat on the side of his bed, his _chota haziri_ untouched +on a table at his elbow, he knew that every minute counted, and that he +must come out of the shadow and deliberately face and force the +position. + +If he could always have worked in the dark he would have done so, and no +one ever guessed how unwillingly he disclosed himself. He was a shadow +in the great structure of criminal investigation, and he came and went +like a shadow. When it was possible he vanished out of his completed +case before his agency was detected, and as he sat thinking, he wondered +if Hartley could not be trusted with the task that lay before him that +day, but even as the thought came into his mind he decided against it. +Opportunity must be nailed like false coin to the counter, and there +could be no question of leaving a meeting to the last moment of chance. +He had to make sure of his man; that was the first step. + +During the course of an idle morning, Coryndon wandered to the church, +and saw that at 5.30 p.m. the Rev. Francis Heath was holding service. +After the service there would be a choir practice, and Coryndon, having +made a mental note of the hour, went back to luncheon with Hartley. + +The afternoon sunlight was dreaming in the garden, and the drowsy air +was full of the scent of flowers. Coryndon had something to do, and he +was wise enough to make no settled plan as to how he would do it, +beforehand. He put away all thought of Absalom and the other lives +connected with the disappearance of the Christian boy, and let his +thoughts drift out, drawing in the light and colour of the world +outside. + +Yesterday has power over to-day; to-morrow even greater power, for +to-morrow holds a gift or a whip, and Coryndon knew this, thinking out +his little philosophy of life. To be able to handle a situation which +may require a strength that is above tact or diplomacy, he knew that all +those yesterdays must give their store of gathered strength and +knowledge. + +As there was no running water to watch, Coryndon watched the shadows and +the light playing hide-and-go-seek through the leaves, through his +half-closed eyes. They made a pattern on the ground, and the pattern was +faultless in its beauty. Nature alone can do such things. He looked at +the far-off trees of the park, green now, to turn into soft blue masses +later on when the day waned, and the intrinsic value of blue as colour +flitted over his fancy. The music that was part of his nature rippled +and sang in obligato to his thoughts, and because he loved music he +loved colour and knew the connection between sound and tint. Colour, to +its lightest, least value, was music, expressing itself in another way. + +Hartley went out with his dog; went softly because he believed his +friend slept, and Coryndon did not stir. Somewhere in the centre of +things actual, Hartley lived his cheerful, happy life, dreaming when he +was lonely of the woman who darned his socks and smiled at him. In +Coryndon's life there was no woman either visionary or real, and he +wondered why he was exempt from these natural dreams of a man. He was +very humble about himself. He knew that he was only a tracker, a brain +that carried a body, not a healthy animal body that controlled the +greater part of a brain. He was given the power to grip motives and to +read hearts, and beyond that he only lived in his fingers when he +played. He had his dreams for company when he shut the door on the other +half of his active brain, and he had his own thrills of excitement and +intense joy when he found what he was seeking, but beyond this there was +nothing, and he asked for nothing. Blue shadows, and a drifting into +peace, that was the end. He pulled himself together abruptly, for it was +five o'clock, and time for him to start. + +When Coryndon had drunk some tea, he started out on foot to St. Jude's +Church. He knew that he would get there in time to find the Rev. Francis +Heath. The choir practice did not take very long, and as he walked into +the church they were singing the last verses of a hymn. Heath sat in one +of the choir pews, a sombre figure in his black cassock, listening +attentively. + + "Happy birds that sing and fly + Round Thy altars, O Most High." + +The choir sang the "Amen," and sang it false, because they were in a +hurry to troop out of the church; the girls were whispering and +collecting gloves and books, and the boys were already clattering off +with an air of relief. Heath spoke to the organist, making some +suggestion in his grave, quiet voice, and when he turned, Coryndon was +standing in the chancel. + +"Can I speak to you for a moment?" he asked easily. + +"Come into the vestry," said Heath quietly. "We shall be undisturbed +there." + +He went down the chancel steps and opened a door at the side, waiting +for Coryndon to go in, and closing the door behind them. A table stood +in the middle of the room with a few books and papers on it, and a +square window lighted it from the western wall; there were only two +chairs in the room, and Heath put one of them near the table for his +visitor, and took the other himself. + +He did not know what he expected Coryndon to say; men very rarely came +to him like this, but he felt that it was possible that he was in +search of something true and definite. Truth was in his eyes, and his +dark, fine face was earnest as he bent forward and looked full at the +clergyman. + +"What can I do for you?" + +Heath put the question tentatively, conscious of a sudden quick tension +in the atmosphere. + +Coryndon's eyes fixed on him, like gripping hands, and he leaned a +little over the table. + +"You can tell me how and when you got Rydal out of the country." + +For a moment, it seemed to Heath that the whole room rocked, and that +blackness descended upon him in waves, blotting out the face of the man +who asked the question, destroying his identity, and leaving him only +the knowledge that the secret that he had guarded with all the strength +of his soul was known, inexplicably, to Hartley's friend. He tried to +frame a reply, but his words faltered through dry lips, and his face was +white and set. + +"Why should you say that I helped Rydal?" + +"Because," Coryndon's answer came quickly, "you told me so yourself last +night at dinner." + +He heard Coryndon speak again, very slowly, so that every word came +clear into the confusion of his throbbing brain. + +"I knew from Hartley that you were in Paradise Street on the evening of +the twenty-ninth of July, and that you saw and spoke to Absalom. I am +concerned in the case of finding that boy or his murderer, and anything +you can tell me may be of help to me in putting my facts together. I had +to come to your confidence by a direct question. Will you pardon me +when you consider my motive? I am not concerned with Rydal: my case is +with Absalom." + +He looked sympathetically at the worn, drawn face across the table, that +was white and sick with recent fear. + +"Tell me the events just as they came," he said gently. "You may be able +to cast light on the matter." + +Heath looked up, and his eyes expressed his silent acceptance of +Coryndon's honesty of purpose. + +"I will tell you, Mr. Coryndon. God knows that the case of this boy has +haunted me night and day. He was my best pupil, and when Hartley accused +me by inference, of complicity, I suffered as I believe few men have had +to suffer because I could not speak. I may not be able to assist you +very far, but all I know you shall know if you will listen to me +patiently." + +Heath relapsed into silence for some little time, and when he spoke +again it was with the manner of a man who gives all his facts +accurately. He omitted no detail and he set the story of Rydal before +Coryndon, plainly and clearly. + +Rydal had been a clerk in the Mangadone Bank, and had been in the place +for some years before he went home and returned with a wife. He was an +honest and kindly young fellow and he worked hard. There was no flaw in +his record, and Heath believed that he was under the influence of a very +genuine religious feeling. He frequently came to see Heath, who knew his +character thoroughly, and knew that he was weak in many respects. He +talked enthusiastically of the girl he was going to marry, and Heath saw +him off on the liner when Rydal got his leave and, full of glad +anticipation, went away to bring out his wife. + +When the clergyman had reached this point in his story, he got up and +paced the floor a couple of times, his monkish face sad and troubled, +and his eyes full of the tragic revelations that had yet to be made. + +Coryndon did not hurry the narrative. He was engaged in calling up the +mental presentment of the young happy man. Heath had described him as +"fresh-looking," and had said that his manner was frank and always +kindly; he was friendly to weakness, kindly to weakness, his virtues all +tagged off into inefficient lack of grip; but he was honest and he found +life good. That was how Rydal had started, that was the Rydal who had +gripped Heath's hand as he stood on the deck of the _Worcestershire_ and +thought of the girl whom he was going home to marry. + +"I still see him as I saw him then," said Heath, with a catch in his +voice. "He was so sure of all the good things of life, and he had +managed to save enough to furnish the bungalow by the river. I had gone +over it with him the day before he sailed, and his pride in it all was +very touching." + +Coryndon nodded his head, and Heath took up the story again, standing +with his hands on the back of the chair. + +"Rydal came back at the end of three months, his wife with him. She was +a pretty, silly creature, and her ideas of her social importance were +out of all keeping with Rydal's humble position in the Bank. She dressed +herself extravagantly, and began to entertain on a scale that was +ridiculous considering their poverty. Before their marriage, Rydal had +told me that it was a love match, and that she was as poor as he, as all +her own people could do for her was to make a small allowance sufficient +for her clothes." + +Coryndon sat very still. Heath had come to the point where the real +interest began: he could see this on the sad face that turned towards +the western window. + +"In the early hours of one morning towards the end of July," went on +Heath wearily, "I was awakened by Rydal coming into my room. I could see +at once that he was in desperate trouble, and he sat down near me and +hid his face in his hands and cried like a child. There was enough in +his story to account for his tears, God knows. His wife was ill, perhaps +dying; he told me that first, but that I already knew, and then he made +his confession to me. He had embezzled money from the bank and it could +only be a matter of hours before a warrant was issued for his arrest. I +must not dwell too long on these details, but they are all part of the +story, and without them you could not understand my own place in what +follows. It is sufficient to tell you that I returned at once with him, +and his wife added her appeal to mine to make her husband agree to leave +the country. If she lived, she could join him later, but if he was +arrested before she died, she could only feel double torment and +remorse. In the end we prevailed upon him to agree to go. The sin was +not his morally"--Heath's voice rose in passionate vindication of his +act--"in my eyes, and, I believe, in the eyes of God, the man was not +responsible. I grant you his criminal weakness, I grant you his fall +from honour and honesty, but then and now I know that I did right. The +one chance for his soul's welfare was the chance of escape. Prison would +have broken and destroyed him. A white man among native criminals. His +life had been a good life, and an open, honest life up to the time that +his wife's constant demand for what he could not give broke down the +barriers and made him a felon." + +He wiped his face with his handkerchief and drew a deep breath. This was +how he had argued the point with himself, and he still held to the +validity of his argument. + +"That was early on the morning of July the twenty-ninth?" asked +Coryndon. + +"Yes, that was the date. There was a small tramp in port, going to South +America. I had once been of some little assistance to the captain, and I +knew that he would do much to serve me. I went on board her at once, and +saw him, disguising none of the facts or the risk it entailed, and he +agreed willingly to assist Rydal. He was to be at a certain point below +the wharves that evening, and the _Lady Helen_ was to send a boat in to +pick him up." + +"I understand," said Coryndon, "the warrant was issued about noon the +same day?" + +"As far as I know, Joicey gave information against him just about then, +but he had already left the bungalow. I went down Paradise Street to +make my way out along the river bank at a little after six o'clock. I +passed Absalom in the street and spoke a word to the boy, but time was +pressing and I did not dare to be late. It was of the utmost importance +that there should be no hitch in any part of the plan, for the _Lady +Helen_ could not delay over an hour. I got to the appointed place by the +river just after twilight had come on--" + +"Were you seen by anyone?" + +Heath paused and thought for a moment. + +"I would like to deal entirely candidly with you, Mr. Coryndon, but, +with your permission, I must avoid any mention of names. As it happened, +I _was_ seen, but I believe that the person who saw me has no connection +with either my own place in this story or the story itself so far as it +affects Absalom. I saw Rydal go. He went in silence, an utterly +broken-hearted and ruined man, and only ten months divided that day from +the day that he stood on the deck of the _Worcestershire_ filled with +every hope the heart of a man knows. Behind him, his wife lying near +death in the little house his love had provided for her, and nothing lay +before him but utter desolation. I watched the boat take him away into +the darkness, and I saw the lights of the _Lady Helen_ quite clearly, +and then I saw her move slowly off, and I knew that Rydal was safe." + +He paused and stared into the darkness of the room, seeing the whole +picture again, and feeling the awful misery of the broken man who had +gone by the way of transgressors. The man who had once been +light-hearted and happy, who had sung in his choir, and who had read the +lessons for the Rev. Francis Heath and helped him with his boys. + +Coryndon's face showed his tense, close interest as the clergyman spoke +again. + +"I was standing there for some time, how long I do not know, when I saw +that I was not alone, and that I was being watched by a Chinaman. I knew +the boy by sight, and must have seen him before somewhere else. He was a +large, repulsive creature, and appeared to have come from one of the +houses near the river, where there are Coringyhis and low-caste natives +of India. At the time I remarked nothing, but when the boy saw that he +had attracted my attention, he started into a run, and left me without +speaking. The incident was so trifling that it hardly made me uneasy. No +one had seen me actually with Rydal--" + +"You are quite clear on that point? Not even the other person you +alluded to?" + +"I can be perfectly clear. I passed the other person going in the +opposite direction, before I joined Rydal. On the way back I saw Absalom +again, and he was with the Chinaman whom I already mentioned; they did +not notice me, and they were talking eagerly; my mind was overful of +other things, and you will understand that I did not think of them then, +but, as far as I remember, they went towards the fishermen's quarter on +the river bank. I cannot be sure of this." + +Coryndon did not stir; the gloom was deep now, and yet neither of the +men thought of calling for lights. + +"And the Chinaman?" + +Heath flung out his arms with a violent gesture. + +"He had seen and recognized Rydal, and he had the craftiness to realize +that his knowledge was of value. Next day everyone in Mangadone knew +that the hue and cry was out after the absconded clerk. He had betrayed +his trust, cheated and defrauded his employers, and left his wife to die +alone, for she died that night, and I was with her. That was the story +in Mangadone. It was known in the Bazaar, and how or when it came to the +ears of the Chinaman I cannot tell you, but out of his knowledge he came +to me, and I paid him to keep silence. He has come several times of +late, and I will give him no more money. Rydal is safe. I have heard +from him, and the law will hardly catch him now. I know my complicity, I +know my own danger, but I have never regretted it." Again the surging +flood of passion swept into Heath's voice. "What is my life or my +reputation set against the value of one living soul? Rydal is working +honestly, his penitence is no mere matter of protestation, his whole +nature has been strengthened by the awful experience he has passed +through. How it may appear to others I cannot say, and do not greatly +care. In the eyes of God I am vindicated, and stand clear of blame." + +He towered gaunt against the light from the window behind him, and +though Coryndon could not see his face, he knew that it was lighted with +a great rapture of self-denial and spiritual glory. + +"You need fear no further trouble from the boy," he said, rising to his +feet. "I can tell you that definitely. I am neither a judge nor a +bishop, Mr. Heath, but I can tell you honestly from my heart that I +think you were justified." + +He went out into the darkness that had come black over the evening +during the hour he had sat with Heath, and as he walked back to the +bungalow he thought of the man he had just left. There had been no need +for Coryndon to question him about Mrs. Wilder: her secret mission to +the river interested him no further. Heath had protected her and had +kept silence where her name was concerned, and yet she chose to belittle +him in her idle, insolent fashion. + +He thought of Heath sitting by the bed of the dying woman, and he +thought of him following the wake of the _Lady Helen_ down the dark +river with sad, sorrowful eyes, and through the thought there came a +strange thrill to his own soul, because he touched the hem of the +garment of the Everlasting Mercy, hidden away, pushed out of life, and +forgotten in garrulous hours full of idle chatter. + +Yet Mrs. Wilder had announced with her regal finality no less than three +times in the hearing of Coryndon the previous evening that the Rev. +Francis Heath was "a bore." + + + + +XIX + +IN WHICH LEH SHIN WHISPERS A STORY INTO THE EAR OF SHIRAZ, THE PUNJABI; +THE BURDEN OF WHICH IS: "HAVE I FOUND THEE, O MINE ENEMY?" + + +A man with a grievance, however silent he may be by nature, is, +generally speaking, voluble upon the subject of his wrongs, real or +imaginary; but a man with a grudge is intrinsically different. An old +grudge or an old hate are silent things, because they have deep roots +and do not require attention, and it is only in flashes of sudden +feeling, or when the means to the end is in view, that the man with a +grudge reveals details and tells his story. Shiraz paid several visits +to, and spent some time in the shop of, Leh Shin before he arrived at +what he wanted to know. + +He went also to Mhtoon Pah's shop, but came away without discovering +anything. Into the ears of Hartley, Head of the Police, the Burman raged +and screamed his passionate hate, because he believed it promoted his +object; but to the Punjabi he was smooth and complaisant, and refused to +be drawn into any admission. Leh Shin, the Chinaman, was Bazaar dust to +his dignity, and he knew naught of him, save only that the man had an +evil name earned by evil deeds, and Shiraz, who was as crafty as Mhtoon +Pah, saw that he had come to a "no thoroughfare" and turned his wits +towards Leh Shin. + +Little by little, and without any apparent motive, he worked the +Chinaman up to the point where silence is agony, and at last, as a river +in flood crashes over the mud-banks, the whole tale of his wrongs came +bursting through his closed mouth, and with the sweat pouring down his +yellow face he out it into words. + +The meanest story receives something vital in its constitution when it +is told with all the force and conviction of years of hatred behind the +simple fact of expression, and the story that Leh Shin recounted to +Shiraz was a mean story. The Chinaman had the true Eastern capacity for +remembering the least item in the long account that lay unsettled +between himself and the Burman. His memory was a safe in which the +smallest fact connected with it was kept intact and his mind traversed +an interminable road of detail. + +The two men had begun life as friends. The friendship between them dated +back to the days when Leh Shin and Mhtoon Pah were small boys running +together in the streets of Mangadone, and no antipathy that is a first +instinct has ever the depth of root given to the bitterness that can +spring from a breach in long friendship, and Leh Shin and Mhtoon Pah +hated as only old friends ever do hate. + +Leh Shin started in life with all the advantages that Mhtoon Pah lacked, +and he appreciated the slavish friendship of the Burman, which grew with +years. Mhtoon Pah became a clerk on scanty pay in the employ of a rice +firm, and Leh Shin, at his father's death, became sole owner of the +house in Paradise Street; no insignificant heritage, as it was stocked +with a store of things that increased in value with age, and in the +guise of his greatest friend Mhtoon Pah was made welcome at the shop +whenever he had time to go there. From his clerkship in the firm of rice +merchants Mhtoon Pah, at the insistence of his friend, became part +partner in the increasing destiny of the curio shop. He travelled for +Leh Shin, and brought back wares and stores in days when railways were +only just beginning to be heard of, and it was difficult and even +dangerous to bring goods across the Shan frontier. He had the control of +a credit trust, though not of actual money, and for a time the +partnership prospered. Mhtoon Pah was always conscious that he was a +subordinate depending on the good will of his principal, and even as he +ate with cunning into the heart of the fruit, the outside skin showed no +trace of his ravages. Leh Shin's belief in his friend's integrity made +him careless in the matter of looking into things for himself, and +lulled into false security, he dreamed that he prospered; his dream +being solidified by the accounts which he received from the Burman. In +the zenith of his affluence he married the daughter of a Burman into +whose house Mhtoon Pah had introduced him, and it was only after the +wedding festivities that he became aware that he had supplanted the +friend of his bosom in the affections of the smiling Burmese girl. +Mhtoon Pah was away on a journey, and on his return rejoiced in the +subtle, flattering manner that he knew so well how to practise, and if +he felt rancour, he hid it under a smile. + +Marriage took the Chinaman's attention from the shop, and Mhtoon Pah, +still a subordinate in the presence of his master, was arrogant and +filled with assurance in his dealings with others. Interested friends +warned the Chinaman, but he would not listen to them. He believed in +Mhtoon Pah and he had covered him with gifts. + +"Was he not my friend, this monster of infamy?" he wailed, rocking +himself on his bed. "O that I had seen his false heart, and torn it, +smoking, from his ribs!" + +Leh Shin was secure in his summer of prosperity, and when his son was +born he felt that there was no good thing left out of the pleasant ways +of life. In the curio shop in Paradise Street Mhtoon Pah waxed fat and +studied the table of returns, and in the garden of the house where Leh +Shin lived in his fool's paradise, the Chinaman loosed his hold upon the +reins of authority. + +The first sign of the altered and averted faces of the gods was made +known to Leh Shin when his wife dwindled and pined and died. + +"But that, O friend, was not the work of thine enemy," said Shiraz, +pulling at his beard reflectively. "Even in thine anger, seek to follow +the ways of justice." + +"How do I know it?" replied Leh Shin. "He ever held an evil wish towards +me. Her death was slow, like unto the approach of disaster. I know not +whence it came, but my heart informs me that Mhtoon Pah designed it." + +Quickly upon the death of his wife came the disappearance of his son. +The boy had been playing in the garden, and the garden had been searched +in vain for him. No trace of the child could be found, though Mangadone +was searched from end to end. + +"Searched," cried the Chinaman, "as the pocket of a coat. No corner left +that was not peered into, no house that was not ransacked." The +Chinaman's voice quivered with passion, and his whole body shook and +trembled. + +Life flowed back into its accustomed current, and nearly a year passed +before the next trouble came upon Leh Shin. Mhtoon Pah came back from a +prolonged journey that had necessitated his going to Hong-Kong, and he +came back with dismay in his face and a story of loss upon loss. He had +compromised his master's credit to a heavy extent, and not only the +gains he had made but the principal was swept away into an awful chasm +where the grasping hands of creditors grabbed the whole of Leh Shin's +patrimony, claiming it under papers signed by his hand. + +"It was then that light flowed in upon my darkness, and I saw the long +prepared evil that was the work of one man's hand." Leh Shin rose upon +his string bed and his voice was thin with rabid anger. "I caught him by +the throat and would have stabbed him with my knife, but he, being a +younger man than I, threw me off from him, and, when he made me answer, +I saw my foe of many years stand to render his account to me. '_Thou_, +to call me thief,' said he, 'who robbed me of my wife and cheated me of +my son.'" + +After that, poverty and ruin drove him slowly from his house outside +Mangadone to the shelter of the shop in Paradise Street, and from there, +at length, to the burrow in the Colonnade. The bitterness of his own +fall was great enough in itself to harden the heart of any man, but it +was doubled by the story of the years that followed. Slowly, and without +calling too evident attention to himself, Mhtoon Pah began to prosper. +He opened a booth first, where he sat and cursed Leh Shin whenever he +passed, saying loudly that he had ruined him and swindled him out of all +his little store, that by hard work and attention to business he had +collected. + +From the booth, just as Leh Shin left Paradise Street, Mhtoon Pah +progressed to a small unpretentious shop, and a year later he moved +again, as though inspired by a spirit of malice, into the very premises +where Leh Shin had first employed him as a clerk. That day Leh Shin went +to his Joss and swore vengeance, though how his vengeance could be +worked into fact was more than his opium-muddled brain could conceive. +Vengeance was his dream by night, his one concentrated thought by day, +and he came no nearer to any hope of fulfilling it. Mhtoon Pah, wealthy +and respected; Mhtoon Pah, the builder of shrines; Mhtoon Pah, who spoke +with high Sahibs and had the ear of the Head of the Police himself, and +Leh Shin clad in ragged clothes, and only able to keep his hungry soul +in his body by means of his opium traffic, how could he strike at his +foe's prosperity? His hate glared out of his eyes as he panted, stopping +to draw breath at the end of his account. + +Had Shiraz known the legend of the wise wolf who changed from man to +beast, he might have supposed that some such change was taking place in +Leh Shin. His trembling lips dribbled, his head jerked as though +supported by wires, and his eyebrows twitched violently as though he had +no control over their movements. He had forgotten Shiraz and was +thinking only of the tribulation he had suffered and of the man whose +gross form inhabited his whole mental world. Shaking like a leaf, he got +off his bed and stood on the earth floor. + +"May he be eaten by mud-sores," he said savagely. "May he die by his own +hand, and so, as is the Teaching, be shut out of peace, and return to +earth as a scorpion, to be crushed again into lesser life by a stone." + +"By the will of Allah, who alone is great, there will be an end of thy +troubles," said Shiraz non-committally as he got up. "Thou hast suffered +much. Be it requited to thee as thou wouldst have it fall in the hour +that is already written; for no man may escape his destiny, though he be +fleet of foot as the antlered stag." + +"Son of a Prophet, thy words are full of wisdom." + +"Let it comfort thine affliction," said Shiraz, with the air of a man +making a gift. + +"Yet I would hasten the end." He gave a strange, soundless laugh that +startled Shiraz, who looked at him sideways. "And mark this, O wise one, +mine enemy hath already felt the first lash of the whip fall, even the +whip that scourged my own body. He hath lost the boy whom he ever +praised in the streets, and suffered much grief thereby. May his grief +thrive and may it be added to until the weight is greater than he can +bear." He swung up his hand with a stabbing movement. "I would rip him +like a cushion of fine down. I would strike his face with my shoe as the +_Nats_ that he dreads caught his screaming soul." + +"Peace, peace," said Shiraz. "Such words are ill for him who speaks, and +ill alike for him who listens. In such a day as already the end is +scored like a comet's tail across the sky, the end shall be, and not +before that day. Cease from thy clamour lest the street hear thee, and +run to know the cause." + +He took leave of his friend and went slowly away to his own house, +having achieved his master's mission, and feeling well satisfied with +his afternoon's work. + +Motive, the hidden spring of action, was made clear, and Shiraz knew +enough of his master's methods to realize that he had come upon a very +definite piece of evidence against Leh Shin, the Chinaman. From the +point of view of Shiraz the man was quite justified in killing Absalom, +since "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth," appeared fair and +reasonable to his mind. The Burman had overreached Leh Shin, and now Leh +Shin had begun the cycle again, and had smitten at the curio dealer +through the curio dealer's boy, for whom he appeared to have a +fanatical affection. According to Shiraz, the house in Paradise Street +stood a good chance of being burned to the ground. If this "accident" +happened, Shiraz would know exactly whose hand it was that lighted the +match. It was all part of an organized scheme, and though he did not +know how Coryndon would bring the facts home, fitting each man with his +share, like a second skin to his body, he felt satisfied that he had +provided the lump of clay for the skilled potter to mould into shape. + +He took off his turban, and lay down on his carpet. The day was still +hot, and the drowsy afternoon outside his closed windows blinked and +stared through the hours, the glare intensifying the shadows under the +trees and along the Colonnade. The soda-water and lemonade sellers in +their small booths drove a roaring trade as they packed the +aquamarine-green bottles in blocks of dirty ice to keep the frizzling +drink cool; and the cawing of marauding crows and the cackle of fowl +blended with the shouting of drivers and sellers of wares, who heeded +not the staring heat of the sun. + +After the emotion of telling his tale, Leh Shin slept in his own small +box of darkness, and, in the rich curio shop in Paradise Street, Mhtoon +Pah leaned on an embroidered pillow with closed eyes. The stream of life +flowed slowly and softly through the hours when only the poor have need +to work; soft as the current of a full tide that slides between wide +banks, and soft as sleep, or fate, or the destiny which no man can hope +to escape. + + + + +XX + +CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, IS FACED BY A MAN WITH A WHIP IN HIS HAND, +AND CORYNDON FINDS A CLUE + + +It is a matter of universal belief that a woman's most alluring quality +is her mystery, and Coryndon, no lover of women, was absorbed in the +study of mystery without a woman. + +He had eliminated the woman. + +In his mind he cast Mrs. Wilder upon one side, as March throws February +to the fag end of winter, and rushes on to meet the primrose girl +bringing spring in her wake. He had dealt simultaneously with Mrs. +Wilder's little part in the drama and the part of Francis Heath, Priest +in Holy Orders. How they had both stood the test of detection he did not +trouble to analyse. "Detection" is a nasty word, with a nasty sound in +it, and no one likes it well enough to brood over all it exactly means. + +Coryndon was sufficiently an observer of men and life to feel grateful +to Heath, because he had seen something for a short moment as he studied +the clergyman that dwells afterwards in the mind, like a stream of +moonlight lying over a tranquil sea. Hidden things, in his experience, +were seldom things of beauty, and yet he had come upon one fair place +in the whole puzzling and tangled story collected round the +disappearance of the Christian boy Absalom. + +Mrs. Wilder and Heath were both accounted for and deleted from the list +of names indelibly inscribed in his mental book; but one fact that was +sufficiently weighty had been added to what was still involved in doubt: +the fact that Heath had seen the boy in company with Leh Shin's +assistant. + +Coryndon was subject to the ordinary prejudices of any man who makes +human personality a study, and he was more than half disposed to go back +to the Bazaar and hear whatever evidence Shiraz had been able to collect +during his absence. Two reasons prevented his doing this. One was that +he would have to wait until it was dark enough to leave Hartley's +bungalow without being watched, and possibly followed, and the other +that there was still one name on the list that required attention, and +he began to feel that it required immediate attention. A toss of a coin +lay between which course he should adopt first, and he sat very still to +consider the thing carefully. + +In the service of which he was a member, he had learnt that much depends +upon getting facts in their chronological order, and that if there is +the least disunion in the fusing of events, deduction may hammer its +head eternally against a stone wall. He did not know positively that Leh +Shin had decoyed the boy away by means of his assistant, but he was +inclined to believe that such was the case. The blood-stained rag looked +like a piece of impudent bravado more than likely to have emanated from +the brain of the young Chinaman. His mental fingers opened to catch Leh +Shin and lay hold on him, but they unclosed again, and Coryndon felt +about him in the darkness that separates mind from mind. He knew the +pitfall that a too evident chain of circumstances digs for the unwary, +and he fell back from his own conviction, testing each link of the +chain, still uncertain and still doubtful of what course he should +pursue. + +He had another object in view, an object that entailed a troublesome +interview, and he turned his thoughts towards its possible issue. +Information might be at hand in the safe keeping of his servant Shiraz, +but he considered that he must argue his own conclusions apart from +anything Shiraz had discovered. Narrowing his eyes and sitting forward +on the edge of his bed, he thought out the whole progress of his scheme. +Coryndon was an essentially quiet man, but as he thought he struck his +hands together and came to a sudden decision. + +If life offers a few exciting moments, the man who refuses them is no +adventurer, and Coryndon saw a chance for personal skill and definite +action. He felt the call of excitement, the call that pits will against +will and subtlety against force, and that is irresistible to the man of +action. Probably it was just that human touch that decided him. One +course was easy; a mere matter of reassuming a disguise and slipping +back into the life of the people, which was as natural to him as his own +life. A tame ending, rounded off by hearing a story from Shiraz, and +laying the whole matter in the hands of Hartley. The proof against the +assistant was almost conclusive, and if Shiraz had burrowed into the +heart of the motive, it gave sufficient evidence to deliver over the +case almost entire to the man who added the last word to the whole drama +before the curtain fell. + +Coryndon knew the full value of working from point to point, but beside +this method he placed his own instinct, and his instinct pointed along a +different road, a road that might lead nowhere, and yet it called to him +as he sat on the side of his bed, as roads with indefinite endings have +called men since the beginning of time. + +Against his own trained judgment, he wavered and yielded, and at length +took his white _topi_ from a peg on the wall and walked out slowly up +the garden. It was three in the afternoon. Just the hour when Shiraz was +lying on his mat asleep, and when Leh Shin slept, and Mhtoon Pah drowsed +against his cushion from Balsorah, each dreaming after his own fashion; +and it was an hour when white men were sure to be in their bungalows. +Hartley was lying in a chair in the veranda, and all through Mangadone +men rested from toil and relaxed their brains after the morning's work. + +Coryndon went out softly and slowly, and he walked under the hot burning +sun that stared down at Mangadone as though trying to stare it steadily +into flame. White, mosque-like houses ached in the heat, chalk-white +against the sky, and the flower-laden balconies, massed with +bougainvillæa, caught the stare and cracked wherever there was sap +enough left in the pillars and dry woodwork to respond to the fierce +heat of a break in the rains. + +It was a long, hot walk to the bungalow where Joicey lived, over the +Banking House itself, and the vast compound was arid and bare from three +days of scorching drought. Coryndon's feet sounded gritting on the red, +hard drive that led to the cool of the porch. No one called at such an +hour; it was unheard of in Mangadone, where the day from two to five was +sacred from interruption. + +A Chaprassie stopped him on the avenue, and a Bearer on the steps of the +house itself. There were subordinates awake and alive in the Bank, ready +to answer questions on any subject, but Coryndon held to his purpose. He +did not want to see any of the lesser satellites; his business was with +the Manager, and he said that he must see him, if the Manager was to be +seen, or even if he was not, as his business would not keep. + +A young man with a smooth, affable manner appeared from within, and said +he would give any message that Coryndon had to leave with his principal, +but Coryndon shook his head and politely declined to explain himself or +his business, beyond the fact that it was private and important. The +young man shook his head doubtfully. + +"It doesn't happen to be a very good hour. We never disturb Mr. Joicey +in the afternoons." + +"May I send in my card?" asked Coryndon. + +"Certainly, if you wish to do so." + +Coryndon took a pencil out of his pocket, and, scribbling on the corner +of his card, enclosed it in an envelope, and waited in the dark hall, +where electric fans flew round like huge bats, the smooth-mannered young +man keeping him courteous company. + +"Mr. Joicey rests at this time of day," he explained. "I hope you quite +understand the difficulty." + +"I quite understand," replied Coryndon, "but I think he will see me." + +There was a pause. The young man did not wish to contradict him, but he +felt that he knew the ways and hours of the Head of the Firm very much +better than a mere stranger arriving on foot just as the Bank was due to +close for the day. He wondered who Coryndon was, and what his very +pressing business could possibly be, but even in his wildest flights of +fancy, and, with the thermometer at 112°, flights of fancy do not carry +far, he never even dimly guessed at anything the least degree connected +with the truth. + +The Bearer came down the wide scenic stairway and said that his master +would see Mr. Coryndon at once. The young man with the smooth manner +faded off into dark shadows with an accentuation of impersonal civility, +and Coryndon walked up the echoing staircase by the front of the hall, +down a corridor, down another flight of stairs, and into the private +suite of rooms sacred to the use of the head of the banking firm, and +used only in part by the celibate Joicey. + +Joicey was standing by a table, looking at Coryndon's card and twisting +it between his fingers. He recognized his visitor when he glanced at +him, and showed some surprise. The room was in twilight, as all the +outside chicks were down, and there was a lingering faint perfume of +something sweet and cloying in the air. Joicey looked sulky and +irritated, and he motioned Coryndon to a chair without seating himself. + +"Well," he said brusquely, "what's this about Rydal?" He pointed with a +blunt finger to the card that he had thrown on to the table. + +"That," said Coryndon, also indicating the card, "is merely a means +towards an end. I have the good fortune to find you not only in your +house, but able to receive me." + +The colour mounted to Joicey's heavy face, and his temper rose with it. + +"Then you mean to tell me--" He broke off and stared at Coryndon, and +gave a rough laugh. "You're Hartley's globe-trotting acquaintance, +aren't you? Well, Hartley happens to be a friend of mine, and it is just +as well for you that he is. Tell me your business, and I will overlook +your intrusion on his account." + +Something inside Coryndon's brain tightened like a string of a violin +tuned up to concert-pitch. + +"In one respect you are wrong," he said amiably, and without the +smallest show of heat. "I am, as you say, Hartley's friend, but I must +disown any connection with globe-trotting, as you call it. I am in the +Secret Service of the Indian Government." + +"Oh, are you?" Joicey tore up the card and threw it into a basket beside +the writing-table. + +"It may interest you to know," went on Coryndon easily, "that my visit +to you is not altogether prompted by idle curiosity." He smiled +reflectively. "No, I feel sure that you will not call it that." + +"Fire ahead, then," said Joicey, whose very evident resentment was by no +means abated. "Ask your question, if it is a question." + +"I am coming to that presently. Before I do I want you to understand, +Mr. Joicey, that, like you, I am a servant of the public, and I am at +present employed in gathering together evidence that throws any light +upon the doings of three people on the night of July the twenty-ninth." + +"Then you are wasting valuable time," said Joicey defiantly. "I was away +from Mangadone on that night." + +"I am quite aware that you told Hartley so." + +Coryndon's voice was perfectly even and level, but hot anger flamed up +in the bloodshot eyes of Craven Joicey. + +"I put it to you that you made a mistake," went on Coryndon, "and that +in the interests of justice you will now be able to tell me that you +remember where you were and what you were doing on that night." + +Joicey thrust his hands deep into his pockets, his heavy shoulders bent, +and his face dogged. + +"I am prepared to swear on oath that I was not in Mangadone on the night +of July the twenty-ninth." + +"Not in Mangadone, Mr. Joicey. Mangadone proper ends at the tram lines; +the district beyond is known as Bhononie." + +Coryndon could see that his shot told. There were yellow patches around +Joicey's eyes, and a purple shadow passed across his face, leaving it +leaden. + +"Unless I can complete my case by other means, you will be called as a +witness to prove certain facts in connection with the disappearance of +the boy Absalom on the night of July the twenty-ninth." + +"Who is going to call me?" + +The question was curt, and Joicey's defiance was still strong, but there +was a certain huskiness in his voice that betrayed a very definite fear. + +"Leh Shin, the Chinaman, will call you. His neck will be inside a noose, +Mr. Joicey, and he will need your evidence to save his life." + +"Leh Shin? That man would swear anything. His word is worthless against +mine," said the Banker, raising his voice noisily. "If that is another +specimen of Secret Service bluff, it won't do. Won't do, d'you hear?" + +Coryndon tapped his fingers on the writing-table. + +"I can't agree with you in your conclusion that it 'won't do.' Taken +alone his statement may be worthless, but taken in connection with the +fact that you are in the habit of visiting his opium den by the river, +it would be difficult to persuade any judge that he was lying. I myself +have seen you going in there and coming out." + +He watched Joicey stare at him with blind rage; he watched him stagger +and reach out groping hands for a chair, and he saw the huge defiance +evaporate, leaving Joicey a trembling mass of nerves. + +"It's a lie," he said, mumbling the words as though they were dry bread. +"It's a damned, infernal lie!" + +A long silence followed upon his words, and Joicey mopped his face with +his handkerchief, breathing hard through his nose, his hands shaking as +though he was caught by an ague fit. + +"I'm in a corner," he said at last; "you've got the whip-hand of me, +Coryndon, but when I said I was not in Mangadone that night, I was +speaking the truth." + +"You were splitting a hair," suggested Coryndon. + +Joicey drew his heavy eyebrows together in an angry frown. + +"Let that question rest," he said, conquering his desire to break loose +in a passion of rage. + +"You went down Paradise Street some time after sunset. Will you tell me +exactly whom you saw on your way to the river house?" + +Craven Joicey steadied his voice and thought carefully. + +"I passed Heath, the Parson, he was coming from the direction of the +lower wharves, and was going towards Rydal's bungalow. I remember that, +because Rydal was in, my mind at the time; I had heard that his wife was +ill, probably dying, and just after I saw Absalom." + +He paused for a moment and moistened his lips. + +"Was he with anyone when you saw him?" + +"No, he was alone, and he was carrying a parcel. Anyhow, that is all I +can tell you about him that night." + +Joicey looked up as though he considered that he had said enough. + +"And from there you went to the opium den," said Coryndon relentlessly. + +The perspiration dripped from Joicey's hair, and he took up the threads +of the story once more. + +"I went there," he said, biting the words savagely. "I was sick at the +time. I'd had a go of malaria and was as weak as a kitten. The place was +empty, and only Leh Shin was in the house, and whether he gave me a +stronger dose, or whether I was too seedy to stand my usual quantity, I +can't tell you, but I overslept my time." + +He passed his hand over his face with a sideways look that was horrible +in its shamefacedness. Coryndon avoided looking at him in return, and +waited patiently until he went on. + +"Leh Shin remained with me. He never leaves the house whilst I am +inside," continued Joicey. "I was there the night of the twenty-ninth +and the day of the thirtieth. Luckily it was a Sunday and there was no +fear of questions cropping up, and I only got out at nightfall when it +was dark enough for me to go back without risk. Since then," he said, +rising to his feet and striking the writing-table with a clenched fist, +"I have been driven close to madness. Hartley was put on to the track of +Leh Shin by the lying old Burman, Mhtoon Pah, and Leh Shin's shop was +watched and he himself threatened. God! What I've gone through." + +"Thank you," said Coryndon, pushing back his chair. "You have been of +the very greatest assistance to me." + +Joicey sat down again, a mere torment-racked mass, deprived of the help +of his pretence, defenceless and helpless because his sin had found him +out in the person of a slim, dark-faced man, who looked at him with +burning pity in his eyes. + +The world jests at the abstract presentment of vice. From pulpits it +appears clothed in attractive words and is spoken of as alluring; and, +supported by the laughter of the idle and the stern belief of the +righteous in its charms, man sees something gallant and forbidden in +following its secret paths. The abstract view has the charm and +attraction of an impressionist picture, but once the curtain is down, +and the witness stands out with a terrible pointing finger, the laughter +of the world dies into silence, and the testimony of the preacher that +vice is provided with unearthly beauty becomes a false statement, and +man is conscious only of the degradation of his own soul. + +Coryndon left the room noiselessly and returned up the steps, along the +corridor and down the stone flight that led into the subsiding heat of +the late afternoon. The young man with the smooth, affable manner +wheeled a bicycle out of a far corner, and smiled pleasantly at +Coryndon. + +"You saw the Manager, and got what you wanted?" + +"I saw him, and got even more than I wanted," said Coryndon, with +conviction. + +Things like this puzzled the dream side of his nature and left him +exhausted. The gathering passion of rage in Joicey's eyes had not +touched him, but the memory of the big, bull-dog, defiant man huddled on +the low chair, his arm over his face, was a memory that spoke of other +things than what he had come there to discover; the terrible things that +are behind life and that have power over it. He had to collect himself +with definite force, as a child's attention is recalled to a +lesson-book. + +"He has cleared Leh Shin," he said to himself, and at first exactly all +that the words meant was not clear to his mind. Joicey had cleared the +Chinaman of complicity, and had knocked the whole structure of carefully +selected evidence away with a few words. + +Coryndon was back in Hartley's bungalow with this to consider; and it +left him in a strange place, miles from any conclusion. He had sighted +the end of his labours, seen the reward of his long secret watchfulness, +and now they had withdrawn again beyond his grasp. Heath had seen +Absalom with the Chinaman's assistant. Joicey, whose evidence marked a +later hour than that of Heath, had seen him alone, and the solitary +figure of the small boy hurrying into the dark was the last record that +indicated the way he had gone. + +Nothing connected itself with the picture as Coryndon sat brooding over +it, and then gradually his mind cleared and the confusion of the +destruction of his carefully worked-out plan departed from his brain +like a wind-blown cloud. There was a link, and his sensitive fine +fingers caught it suddenly, the very shock of contact sending the blood +into his cheeks. + +The picture was clear now. Absalom, a little white-clad figure, slim, +eager and dutiful, hurried into the shadows of night, but Coryndon was +at his heels this time. The clue was so tiny, so infinitesimal, that it +took the eye of a man trained to the last inch in the habit of seeing +everything to notice it, but it did not escape Coryndon. + +He joined Hartley at tea in the sitting-room, with its semi-official air +of being used for serious work, and Hartley fulfilled his avocation by +bringing Coryndon back from strange places into the heart of sane +humdrum existence. Surely if some men are pillars, and others rockets, +and more poets, professors and preachers, some are hand-rails, and only +the man who has just been standing on a dizzy height looking sheer into +the bottomless pit where nothing is safe and where life crumbles and +fear is too close to the consciousness, knows the value and even the +beauty of a hand-rail, and knows that there is no need to mock at its +limitations. For a few minutes Coryndon leant upon the moral support of +Hartley's cheery personality, and then he told him that he was going +back to the Bazaar that night, as circumstances led him to believe that +he might find what he wanted there and there only. + +"That means that you have cleared Heath?" + +Hartley's voice was relieved. + +"Heath is entirely exonerated." + +Coryndon wandered to the piano, and he played the twilight into the +garden, the bats out of the eaves, and he played the shadow of Joicey's +shame off his own soul until he was refreshed and renewed, and it was +time for him to return to his disguise and slip out of the house. + + + + +XXI + +DEMONSTRATES THE PERSUASIVE POWER OF A KNIFE EDGE, AND TELLS A STORY OF +A GOLD LACQUER BOWL + + +The obese boy sat in Leh Shin's shop, fiddling sometimes with his ears +and sometimes with the soles of his bare feet. He found life just a +little dull, and had he been able to express himself as "bored," he +would doubtless have done so. Peeling small dry scales of skin off +wear-hardened heels is not the most exciting occupation life affords, +and the assistant wished more than once that his master would return +from either the gambling den or the Joss House and liberate him for the +night. + +It was his night at the river house, and small opportunities for +pilfering from the drugged sleepers made these occasions both amusing +and profitable. On the whole he enjoyed the nights in the den, and they +added considerably to his bank in a box secreted behind the Joss who +flamed and pranced on the wall. Meanwhile, nothing was doing in the +shop, and company there was none, unless the cockroaches and the lizards +could be reckoned in that category. + +His master had been shaky and short of temper when he awoke from his +afternoon sleep, and had struck his assistant over the head more than +once in the course of an argument. Unseen things ticked and rustled in +dark corners, and the boy yawned loudly and stretched his arms, making +himself more hideous as his contracted mouth opened to its full oval in +his large round face. Still nothing happened and no one came, and he +returned to the closer examination of a blister that interested him. He +probed it with a needle, and it indicated its connection with his foot +by stinging as though he had burnt himself with a match. + +He was seated on a table bending over his horrible employment, half +pastime, half primitive operation, the light of the lamp full upon him, +when a sound of padding feet shook the floor and he looked up, his eyes +full of the effort of listening attentively, and saw a face peering in +at the door. For a moment he was startled, and then he swung his legs, +which hung short of the floor, over the side of the table and laughed +out loud. + +"So thou art back, Mountain of Wisdom?" he said jeeringly. "Come within +and tell me of thy journey." + +The Burman crept in stealthily, looking around him. + +"Aye, I am back. Having done the business." + +Curiosity leapt into the eyes of the Chinaman, and he dropped his +attitude of contempt. + +"What business?" he asked greedily. "Before thy departure thou wast +mute, stricken as a dumb man, neither wouldst thou speak in response to +any question." + +The Burman curled himself up on the floor and smiled complaisantly. + +"None the less, the business is done, O Bowl of Ghee, and I have +returned." + +The assistant ignored the personal description, and adopted a manner +calculated to ingratiate himself into the friendly confidence of the mad +Burman. He wriggled off the table and crouched on the floor a few inches +off Coryndon's face, and the contact being too close for human +endurance, Coryndon threw himself back into the corner and retired +behind a mask of cunning obstinacy. + +"Thy business, thy business," repeated the boy. "Was it in the nature of +the evil works of the bad man, thy friend?" He leered his encouragement, +and fumbling at his belt took out a small coin. "Here, I will give thee +two annas if thou tell the whole story to my liking." + +The Burman shook his head, but he appeared to be considering the offer +slowly in his obtuse and stagnant brain. + +"Give the money into mine own hand, that the reward be sure," he said, +as though he toyed with the idea. + +"Not so," replied the boy. "First the boiled rice and the salt, and +afterwards the payment. Thus is the way in honest dealings." + +The Burman shut his mouth tightly and exhibited signs of a return to his +former condition of dumbness that worked upon the assistant like gall. + +"Then, if nothing less will content thee, take thy money," he said in +frothy anger. "Take it and speak low, for it may be that eavesdroppers +are without in the street." + +He dropped the coin into the outstretched palm, but the Burman did not +begin his story. He got up and searched behind boxes and shook the rows +of hanging garments. He was so secret and silent that the boy became +exasperated and closed the narrow door into the street with a bang, +pulling across a heavy chain. + +"Let that content thee," he said irritably, chafing under the delay, and +sitting down, a frowsy, horrible object, in the dim corner, he prepared +to enjoy a further description out of the wild fantastic terrors of the +madman's brain. + +Surprise does not hover; its coming events are shadowless, and its +spring is the spring of a tiger out of the dark, and surprise came upon +Leh Shin's assistant as it has come upon men and nations since the world +first spun in space. + +He looked upon the Burman as a harmless lunatic, and he only +half-believed that he had ever been guilty of the act that had ended in +a term of imprisonment in the Andaman Islands, but in one moment he +realized that it might all be true and that he himself was possibly +singled out as the next victim. + +In one silent moment he found himself pinned in his corner, the Burman +squatting in front of him, a long knife which he had never seen before +pointing at his throat with horrible, determined persistency. + +He opened his mouth and thought to cry out for help, but the Burman +leaned forward and warned him that if he did so, his last minute had +inevitably come. + +"I am thy friend, thy good and honourable friend," he said pleasantly as +he made play with the Afghan dagger. "I do but make mirth for both +myself and thee, and I have no thought to harm thee." + +The flesh of the gross body crept and crawled under the Burman's look. +Fate had put the heart of a chicken in the huge frame of Leh Shin's +assistant, and it beat now like pelting hail on a frozen road. He was +close to a raw, naked fear, and it made him shameless as he gibbered and +cowered before it. + +"I have no money," he said, bleating out the words. "All that I have is +already paid to thee for thy tale." + +He whined and cringed and writhed in his close corner. + +"I have heard a strange tale," Coryndon said, bending a little closer to +him. "Old now as stale fish that has lain in the dust of the street. It +has been whispered in my ear that thou knowest how Absalom came to his +end." + +"I slew him in the house of a seaman," said the boy, in a quavering +voice. "Now take the point of thy knife from my throat, for it doth +greatly inconvenience pleasant speech between thee and me." + +Coryndon's watchful eye detected the lie before it announced itself in +words, or so it seemed to the boy, who resigned himself to the mere +paltry limitations of fact, and confessed that he and Absalom had been +friends and that he had never killed anything except a chicken, and once +a dog that was too young to bite his hand. + +The details of the story came out at long intervals, with breaks of +sweating terror between each one. Pieced together, it was simple enough. +In spite of the existing feud between their masters, Leh Shin's +assistant and Absalom had struck up a kind of friendship that was not +unlike the friendship of any two boys in any quarter of the globe. They +used special knocks upon the door, and when they passed as strangers in +the streets they made masonic signs to one another, and they also +gambled with European cards in off hours. + +The desire for money, so strong in the Chinaman, grew gradually in the +mind of the Christian boy, whose descent to Avernus was marked first by +the sale of his Sunday school prize-books, which he disposed of at the +Baptist Mission shop, receiving several rupees in return. Having once +possessed himself of what was wealth to him, and having lost most of it +in the gentlemanly vice of gambling, he began to need more, but being +slow-witted he could think of no way better than robbing Mhtoon Pah, +which suggestion the Chinaman's assistant looked upon as both dangerous +and weak, regarded in the light of a workable plan. + +It was inside his bullet-head that the idea of a plot that could not be +discovered came into its first nebulous being. Absalom found out that +Mhtoon Pah was looking for a gold lacquer bowl, and through the agency +of Leh Shin the bowl was eventually marked down as the property of a +seaman who was lodging temporarily near the opium den by the river, one +of Leh Shin's clients. The assistant had the good fortune to overhear +the preliminaries of the sale, and he immediately saw his opportunity, +as genius alone sees and recognizes chances. It was he who first told +Absalom that the bowl was located, and it was he who realized that +chance was beckoning on the adventurer. + +It was arranged that Absalom should inform Mhtoon Pah that the coveted +treasure was to be had for a price, and it was also the part of Mr. +Heath's best scholar, to obtain the money from Mhtoon Pah that was to be +paid over to the seaman for the bowl. By this time Absalom's gambling +debts had become a serious question with him, and even a lifelong +mortgage upon his weekly pay could hardly cover his liabilities. Besides +which, he had to live. That painful necessity which dogs the career of +greater men than Absalom. + +He appeared to have an almost childish trust in the craft and guile of +his Chinese friend, and set the whole matter before him. Mhtoon Pah was +ready to pay two hundred rupees for the lacquer bowl, as he was already +offered five hundred by Mrs. Wilder, and was content with the profit. +Two hundred rupees was a sum that was essentially worth some risk. To +hand it over to a drunken seaman was against all moral precept. The +sailor's ways were scandalous, his gain would go into evil hands. +Treated in this manner, even a Sunday-school graduate could lull an +uneasy conscience, and as far as Coryndon could judge, Absalom was not +troubled by any warnings from that silent mentor. Out of the brain of +Leh Shin's assistant the great scheme had leapt full-grown, and it only +required a little careful preparation to put it into action. + +The assistant knew the sailor, a Lascar with a craving for drink, and he +became friendly with him "out of hours," and learned his ways and the +times when he was likely to be in the house where he lodged. The sailor, +having come to know that value was attached to his bowl, guarded it with +avaricious care when in a condition to do so; and Leh Shin, who trusted +his assistant, through whom the news of the deal had first come to his +ear, offered the man fifty rupees for what he had merely stolen from a +shop in Pekin. It took the assistant a full week to arrange events so +that he and Absalom could work together for the moral good of the +sailor, and protect him from the snares of lucre, represented by a third +of the money Leh Shin expected to receive. + +He dwelt with some pride upon the fact, and his vanity in this +particular almost conquered his fear of the Afghan blade that still +nestled close to his bull neck. He had drunk in friendship with the +sailor, dropping a drug into his cup, and waiting till his eyes grew dim +and he fell forward in a heavy sleep. But even in the moment of +achievement his wits were worth more than the wits of Absalom, for he +ran out of the house and established an alibi while the Christian boy +filched the bowl from beneath the bed of the intoxicated sailor. At a +given hour he waited for Absalom just where Heath had stood after he +had parted from Rydal, and so chance played twice into his hands in one +night. Absalom, who appeared to have imbibed some rudimentary principles +of honour among thieves, passed the boy his share, which was a hundred +and twenty rupees, including his debts of honour, and having done so, +sped away into the night, the bowl under his arm. + +"And that is all the story," said the boy, beating his hands on the +floor, and returning from the momentary forgetfulness of the narrative +to the immediate fear of the knife. "Further than that, I know nothing. +The hour is late and if I am not at the river house I shall feel the +wrath of my master." + +"It is a poor tale, a paltry tale," said the Burman, in tones of +disgust. "One that hardly requites me for my patience in hearing it +out." + +He slipped his knife back into his belt and got up from his heels with a +leisurely movement. The boy, still on all fours, watched him closely, +and the Burman, his eye attracted by a bright tin kettle hanging among +the other goods dependent from the ceiling, stood looking at it, and as +he looked the boy dodged out with a rush, overturning a bale of goods, +and tearing at the door like a mad dog, disappeared into the street. + +Coryndon watched him go, and went back to his corner to wait until Leh +Shin should return from either the gambling den or the Joss House. He +had something to say to Leh Shin, something that could not wait to be +said, and he composed himself to the necessary patience that is part of +all close, careful search, and while he waited, he turned over the +evidence that had arisen from the little clue that Joicey had given him. +Absalom had a parcel under his arm, and that parcel was the gold lacquer +bowl that had passed from Mhtoon Pah's curio shop to Mrs. Wilder's +writing-table. + +Coryndon fiddled with his fingers in the dust of the floor, and took a +blood-stained rag out of his pocket and spread it over his knee. Here +was another tangible piece of evidence brought by Mhtoon Pah to Hartley. +So the record of circumstance closed in. Coryndon thought again. A +lacquer bowl and a stained rag of silk, that was all. If he handed over +the case to Hartley and Mhtoon Pah was really guilty, other evidence +would in all probability be found, and the whole mystery made clear. + +He leaned against the wall and watched the throbbing lamp-wick, fighting +his passion for completed work and his conviction that only he could see +it through to its ultimate conclusion. He knew that he was dealing with +wits quite as crafty as his own, and argued the point from the other +side. Mhtoon Pah had given the rag himself to Hartley, and had sworn +that the bowl was left on the steps of his shop. If no further proof was +forthcoming, these two facts unsupported were almost worthless. Unless a +complete denial of his story could be set against it, Hartley stood to +be checkmated. + +Coryndon had nearly decided against Leh Shin. He drew his knees up under +his chin and came to a definite conclusion. He could not give up the +case as it stood; he was absolved from any hint of professional +jealousy, and he could count himself free to follow the evidence until +it led him irrevocably to the spot where the whole detail was clear and +definite. + +All the faces of the men who had figured in the drama floated across his +mind, and he thought of the strange key that turned in the lock of one +small trivial destiny, opening other doors as if by magic. Absalom's +life or death had no outward connection with the Head of the Mangadone +Banking Firm, it had nothing in all its days to bring it into touch with +Rydal and Rydal's tragedy--Rydal whom Coryndon had never seen. It lay +apart, severed by race and every possible accident of birth or chance, +from the successful wife of a successful Civil Servant, or an earnest, +hard-working clergyman, and yet the great net of Destiny had been spread +on that night of the 29th of July, and every one of them had fallen into +its meshes. + +All the immense problem of the plan that so decides the current of men's +lives came over him, and he saw the limitless value of the insignificant +in life. Absalom was only a little floating piece of jetsam on the great +waters that divided all these lives, yet he was the factor that had +taken the place of the keystone in the arch; the pivot around which the +force that guided and ruled the whole apparent chaos had moved. Coryndon +wandered a long way in his thoughts from the shop where he sat on the +dusty floor, waiting for the return of Leh Shin. He was so still that +the cockroaches and black-beetles crept out again and formed into +marauding expeditions where the shadows of the hanging clothes fell +dark. + +He turned himself from the pressure of his thought and closed his eyes, +resting his brain in a quiet pool of untroubled silence. He knew the +need and the art of absolute relaxation from the strain of thought, and +though he did not sleep, he looked as though he slept, until he heard +the sound of approaching feet and a hand pushed against the door. + + + + +XXII + +IN WHICH CORYNDON HOLDS THE LAST THREAD AND DRAWS IT TIGHT + + +When Leh Shin opened the shop door and pushed in his grey, gaunt face, +he looked around as though wondering in a half-dreamy, half-detached +abstraction where some object he had expected to see had gone. At length +his eyes wandered to the Burman, who sat on the ground eyeing him with a +curiously intent and concentrated regard. + +"Thine assistant hath gone to the river house," he said, answering the +unspoken question. "He left me in charge of thy shop and thy goods." + +Leh Shin nodded silently and closed the door. When he turned, the Burman +beckoned to him with a studied suggestion of mystery. + +"What is thy message?" asked Leh Shin. He believed the Burman to be +afflicted with a madness, and his odd and persistent movement of his arm +hardly conveyed anything to the drowsy, drugged brain of the Chinaman. + +The Burman made no reply, but beckoned again, pointing to the floor +beside him in dumb show, and Leh Shin advanced slowly and took up his +place on a grass mat a little distance off. Silently, and very softly, +the Burman crept near to him, and putting his mouth close to his ear, +talked in a rapid, hissing whisper. His words were low, but their effect +upon Leh Shin was startling, for he recoiled as though touched by a hot +needle. His hands clutched his clothes, and his whole frame stiffened. +Even when he drew away, he listened with avidity as the Burman continued +to pour forth his story. + +He had a friend in the household of Hartley Sahib, so he told Leh Shin, +a friend who had sensitive ears and had heard much; had heard in fact +the whole story of the stained rag, and of Mhtoon Pah's wild appeal for +justice against the Chinaman. + +"Well for thee, Leh Shin, that I have a friend in the house of that +_Thakin_ who rules the Police. But for him I should not have been +informed of the plot against thy life, for, 'on this evidence,' saith +he, 'assuredly they will hang the Chinaman, and Mhtoon Pah is witness +against him.'" + +"Mhtoon Pah, Mhtoon Pah!" said Leh Shin, and he needed to add no curses +to the name, spoken as he said it. + +When Coryndon had fully explained that his friend, who was in the +service of Hartley, had not only given him a circumstantial account of +how the rag was to be used as final and conclusive evidence of Leh +Shin's guilt, but that he had also stolen the rag out of Hartley Sahib's +locked box, to be safely returned to him later, Leh Shin almost tore it +from between Coryndon's fingers. + +"Nay, I cannot deliver it unto thee. My word is pledged. Look closely at +it, if thou wilt, but it may not leave my hand or I break my oath." + +He held it under the circle of lamplight, and the Chinaman leaned over +his shoulder to look at it. For a long time he examined it carefully, +feeling its texture and touching it with light fingers. + +Coryndon watched him with some interest. The Chinaman was applying some +definite test to the silk, known to himself. At last he turned his eyes +on the Burman, staring with a gaunt, fierce look that saw many things, +and when he spoke his words grated and rattled and his voice was almost +beyond his control. + +"See now, O servant of Justice, I am learned in the matter of silks, and +without doubt this comes surely from but one place." + +Again he fell to touching the silk, and his crooked fingers shook as he +explained that the fragment was one he could identify. It was not the +product of the silk looms of Burma, or Shantung; it could not be +procured even in Japan. It was a rare and special product fashioned by +certain lake-dwellers in the Shan states, and so small was their output +that it went to no market. + +"In one shop only in Mangadone," he said; "nay, in one shop only in the +whole world may such silk be found. Thus, in his craft, hath mine enemy +overreached himself." + +"Thou art certain of this?" + +"As I am that the sun will rise." + +Coryndon looked again at the silk, and sat silently thinking. + +"The piece is cut off roughly," he said, after a moment of reflection. +"Yet, could it be fitted into the space left in the roll, then thou art +cleared, and hast just cause against Mhtoon Pah." + +"If thy madness comprehends so much, let it carry thee further still, O +stricken and afflicted," said Leh Shin, imploring him with voice and +gesture. "Night after night have I stood outside his shop, but who may +enter through a locked door? A breath, a shadow, or a flame, but not a +man." He lay on the ground and dug his nails into the floor. "I know the +shop from within and without, and I know that the lock opens with +difficulty but to one key, the key that hangs on a chain around the neck +of Mhtoon Pah." + +Silence fell again as Leh Shin wrestled with the problem that confronted +him. + +"What saidst thou?" said the Burman, suddenly coming to life. "A key?" + +He gave a low, chuckling laugh and rocked about in his corner. + +"Knowest thou of the story of Shiraz, the Punjabi?" + +"I have no mind for tales," said Leh Shin, striking at him with a futile +blow of rage. + +"Nay, restrain thy wrath, since thou hast spoken of a key. With a key +that was made by sorcery, he was enabled to open the treasure-box of the +Lady Sahib, and often hath he told me that all doors may be opened by +it, large or small. It is not hard for me to take it from under his +pillow while he sleeps." + +The Chinaman's jaw dropped, and he cast up his hands in mute +astonishment. If this was madness, sanity appeared only a doubtful +blessing set beside it. He drew his own wits together, and leaning near +the Burman laid before him the rough outline of a plan. + +Mhtoon Pah's ways were known to him. Usually he went to the Pagoda after +the shop was closed, and he returned from there late; it was impossible +to be accurate as to the exact hour of his return. To risk detection was +to shatter all chance of success, and it was necessary to make sure +before attempting to break into the shop and identify the silk rag with +the original roll, if that might be done. + +There was only one course open to the Burman and Leh Shin, and that was +to wait until there was a _Pwé_ at the Pagoda, which Mhtoon Pah would +certainly attend, as his new shrine drew many curious gazers to the +Temple. It would also draw the inhabitants of Paradise Street out of the +quarter, and leave the place practically deserted. For many reasons it +was necessary to wait such an opportunity, though Leh Shin raved at the +delay. It seemed to him that the whole plan was of his suggesting, and +he did not realize that every vague question put by the Burman led him +step by step to the complicated scheme. + +"To-morrow I will send forth my assistant to bring me word of the next +_Pwé_, so that the night may be marked in my mind, and that I shall gain +pleasure in considering the nearing downfall of my enemy." + +Coryndon slipped off to his house. He was tired mentally and physically, +but before he slept, he took a bundle of keys from his dispatch-box and +tied them to the waist of his _loongyi_. + +In the morning there was a fresh surprise for Leh Shin. His assistant +refused to leave the river house, and no persuasion would lure him out +to look after his master's shop. He was afraid of something or someone, +and he wept and entreated to be left where he was. Leh Shin beat him and +tried to drive him out, to no purpose, and in the end he prevailed over +his master, whose mind was occupied with other and more weighty affairs. + +Like a black shadow, Leh Shin crept about the streets, and he questioned +one and another as to the festivities to be held at the Pagoda. +Everywhere he heard of Mhtoon Pah's shrine, and of the great holiness of +the curio dealer. Mhtoon Pah was giving a feast at the Pagoda with +presents for the priests, and the night chosen was the night of the full +moon. + +"Art thou bidden?" asked one who remembered the day of Leh Shin's +prosperity. + +"It is in my thoughts, friend, to make my peace," said Leh Shin, with an +immovable face. "On the night when the moon is full, I am minded to do +so." + +His words were carried back to Mhtoon Pah, who pondered over them, +wondering what the Chinaman meant, finding something sinister in the +sound that added to his rage against his enemy. + +The day of the feast was dark and overcast, and the inhabitants of +Paradise Street looked at the sky with great misgiving, but the curio +dealer refused to be alarmed. + +"The night will be fine, for I have greatly propitiated the _Nats_," he +said with conviction, and he lolled and smoked in his chair at an +earlier hour than was usual with him. + +Even as he had said, the evening began to clear, and by sunset the heavy +clouds were all dispersed. A red sunset unfolded itself in a scroll of +fire across the sky, and Mangadone looked as though it was illuminated +by the flames of a conflagration. A strange evening, some said then, and +many said after. Even the pointing man lost his jaundice-yellow and +seemed to blush as he pointed up the steps. He had nothing to blush for. +His master was at the summit of his power. The _Hypongyis_ lauded him +openly in the streets, and he was giving a feast at the Temple at which +the poorest would not be forgotten. + +Yet Mhtoon Pah was not altogether easy. His eyes rolled strangely from +time to time, and it was remarked by several that he walked to the end +of Paradise Street and looked down the Colonnade of the Chinese quarter, +standing there in thought. Old stories of the feud between him and Leh +Shin were recalled in whispers and passed about. + +The red of the sunset died out into rose-pink, and the effect of colour +in the very air faded and dwindled. People were already dressed out in +gala clothing, and streaming towards the Pagoda. The giver of the feast +did not start with them. He sat in his chair, and then withdrew into his +shop. A light travelled from thence to the upper story, and then with +slow hesitation, Mhtoon Pah came out by the front of the house and +locked the clamped padlock. He stood still for a few minutes, and then +he gasped and shook his fist at the empty air, and he, too, took his way +across the bridge and was lost in the shadows. + +Still the stream from Wharf Street and the confluent streets flowed on +up Paradise Street, and gradually only the maimed and the aged, or the +impossibly youthful, were left behind, to hear of the wonders afterwards +at secondhand, a secondhand likely to add rather than detract from what +actually took place. Even the Colonnade was empty and silent. Shiraz had +gone with the crowd to see what might be seen, and Leh Shin's assistant, +furtive and watchful, and in great terror of the Burman's knife, was +also in the throng that climbed the Pagoda steps. + +The moon that was to have shone on Mhtoon Pah's feast rose in a yellow +ring, and clouds came up, hazy, gaudy clouds that dimmed its light and +made the shadows in the silent streets dense and heavy. Usually there +was a police guard at the corner where Paradise Street met the +Colonnade, but that night Hartley considered the police would be more +necessary in the neighbourhood of the Pagoda. Mhtoon Pah did not think +of this. His conscience was easy, he had propitiated the _Nats_. + +The Pagoda was one blaze of light, and a thousand candles flamed before +every shrine; even the oldest and most neglected had its ring of light. +Small coloured lamps dotted the outlines of some of the booths, and the +whole spectacle presented a moving mass of brilliant colour. Sahibs had +come there. Hartley Sahib had agreed to appear for half an hour, and he +too looked at the crowd with curious, travelling eyes. Coryndon might be +among them, and probably was, he thought, but in any case there was +little chance of his recognizing him if he were. + +Mhtoon Pah had not spared magnificent display, and the crowd told each +other that it was indeed a night to remember in Mangadone. Whispering +winds came out and rang the Temple bells, but even when the breeze +strengthened, the rain-clouds held off. It became a matter for +compliment and congratulation, and Mhtoon Pah accepted his friends' +flattery without pride. He was a good man, a benefactor, a +shrine-builder who followed "the Way" with zeal and fervour, and +besides, he had propitiated _Nats_; _Nats_ who blew up storms, caused +earthquakes and were evilly disposed towards men. + +Mhtoon Pah would have been at the point where a man's life touches +sublimity, but for one thing. The words of Leh Shin echoed in his ears +over all the applause and adulation. + +"It is in my thought, friend, to make my peace. On the night of the full +moon I am minded to do so." + +The moon riding clear of clouds, shone out over the concourse of men and +women. Anywhere among them all might be Leh Shin, the needy Chinaman, +and gripping his large hands into fists, Mhtoon Pah watched for him and +expected him, but watch as he might, he did not come, neither was there +any sign of him among all the crowd of faces that passed and repassed +before the new shrine. + + + + +XXIII + +DEMONSTRATES THE TRUTH OF THE AXIOM THAT "THE UNEXPECTED ALWAYS HAPPENS" + + +At the time when Mhtoon Pah was standing in the centre of a gazing group +before the new shrine, and trying to forget that nothing except the news +of Leh Shin's hanging would give him real satisfaction, the Chinaman, +accompanied by the Burman, slipped up the channel of gloom under the +Colonnade and made his way into Paradise Street. + +The Burman walked with an easy unconscious step, but Leh Shin crept +close to the wall and started when he passed a sleeping form in a +doorway. Night fears and that trembling anxiety that comes when +fulfilment is close at hand were upon him. He knew that the point in +view was to effect an entrance into the curio shop, the threshold of +which he had not crossed since his last black hour of misfortune had +struck and he had gone out a beggar. + +Everything in his life lay on the other side of the shop door; all his +happy, prosperous, careless days, all the good years. Every one of them +was stored there just as surely as Mhtoon Pah's ivories and carved +screens and silks were stored safe against the encroachment of damp and +must. His old self might even be somewhere in the silent house, and it +takes a special quality of courage for a man to return and walk through +a doorway into the long past. For the first time for years he remembered +how he had brought his little son into the shop, and how the child had +laughed and crowed at the sight of amber and crystal chains. + +Even Mhtoon Pah grew dim in his mind, and he dallied with the forgotten +memories as he stood shaking in an archway watching the Burman cross the +street. Insensibly the Burman's mania had waned in the last few hours, +and he had grown silent and preoccupied, a fact that escaped Leh Shin's +notice. His owl eyes blinked with the strain of staring through the +wavering light, and his memories strove with him as though in physical +combat. Mhtoon Pah was no longer in the house, and instead of his shadow +another influence seemed to brood there, something that called to Leh +Shin, but not with the wild cry of hate. Before the days of still +greater affluence Leh Shin had lived there with his little Burmese wife. + +The Burman was on his knees, having some difficulty with the lock. He +could see him fighting it, and at last he saw the jerk of his hand that +told that the key had turned, and that the way was clear. Leh Shin dived +out of the recess and ran, a flitting shadow, across the road. The door +was open, but the Burman for all his madness was not satisfied. There +was a way out through the back by which they could emerge, and if the +front door hung loose, careless eyes might easily be attracted to the +fact. The pointing man was not there for nothing. Almost everyone +looked up the steps. Even in his fury of impatience, Leh Shin saw the +reason for caution, and agreed to open a window, and admit the Burman +after he had locked the door again. + +The moments were full of the tense agony of suspense, and he peered +cautiously out from under the silk blind. A late passer-by went slowly +up the street, and Leh Shin's heart beat a loud obbligato to the sound +of his wooden pattens. By craning his neck as the man passed, he could +just distinguish the Burman crouching behind the wooden man, who blandly +indicated the heavy padlock. The wooden man lied woodenly to the effect +that all was well within the curio shop, and a few minutes later the +Burman swung himself over the balustrade and climbed with cat-like +agility on to the window-ledge. + +The darkness of the room was heavy with scent, and Leh Shin stumbled +over unknown things. Coryndon struck a match and held it in the hollow +of one palm as he opened the aperture in the dark lantern he carried, +and lighted it. When he had done so he looked up, and taking no notice +of the masses of beautiful things, he went quickly to the silk cupboard, +opening it with another key on the ring. + +"Leh Shin," he said, speaking in a commanding whisper, "turn thyself +into an ear, and listen for me while I search." + +Leh Shin nodded silently, half-stupidly it seemed, and went on tip-toes +to the door that opened into the passage. All the power of the past was +over him, and though he heard the Burman's curt command he hardly seemed +to understand what he meant. For a little time he stood at the door, +hearing the rustling whisper of yards of silk torn down and glanced over +and discarded, and then he wandered almost without knowing it up the +staircase and through the rooms, until the sight of Mhtoon Pah's bed and +some of Mhtoon Pah's clothing recalled his mind to the reason of his +being there. + +He hurried down, his bare feet making no sound on the stairs, and looked +into the shop again. The Burman was seated on the floor, a width of silk +over his knees; all the displaced rolls had been put back. He had worked +swiftly and with the greatest care that no trace of his visit should be +known later. + +Leh Shin slid out again. The passage was dark as pitch, but he knew +every turn and twist of its windings, and he knew that it led down to +the cellars below the house. He was awake and alert now as Coryndon +himself, and as he strained his ears he caught a sound. He listened +again with horrible eagerness, looked back into the shop and saw the +stooping head going over every yard of a roll of fine silk faithfully; +and then he gripped the knife under his belt and, feeling along the wall +with his free hand, followed along the corridor. Once only he glanced +round and then the darkness of the corridor swallowed him from sight. + +Coryndon, busy with the silk made by the lake-dwellers spread over his +knees, knew nothing of Leh Shin's disappearance. The fever of chase was +in his blood, and he threw the flimsy yards through his hands. Nothing, +nothing, and again nothing, and again--he felt his heart swell with +sudden, stifled excitement. Under his hand was a three-cornered rent, a +damaged piece where a patch rather larger than his palm had been roughly +cut out. His usually steady hand shook as he put the stained rag over it +and fitted it into the place. + +"Leh Shin," he called, as he rose, but he called softly. + +No sound answered his whisper, and he stiffened his body and listened. +He had been wrong. There was a sound, but it did not come from inside +the shop: it was the slow footstep of a heavy man pausing to find a key. + +Coryndon listened no longer. He closed the door of the silk cupboard, +bundled up the yards of silk in his arms and extinguishing the lamp +darted behind a screen. It was a heavy carved teak screen, inset with +silk panels embroidered with a long spray of hanging wistaria on a dark +yellow ground. As he hid himself, he cursed his own stupidity. In the +excitement of his desire to enter the curio shop, he had forgotten to +hamper the lock with pebbles. + +After what seemed an age, the door opened slowly and Mhtoon Pah came in. +Something, he knew not what, had dragged him away from the Pagoda, and +dragged him back to his shop. His eyes looked mad and unnatural in the +light of the lantern he held in his hand, and he shut the door and stood +like a dog who scents danger, and stared round the room. He walked to +the silk cupboard and looked in through the glass panes, but did not +open it or discover that it was unlocked. He paced round the room, +stopping before the screen, his eyes still reflecting his trouble of +mind. + +From behind the screen, Coryndon watched every stir he made; he saw the +look on his face and noted Mhtoon Pah's smallest movement. There was no +evidence of thieves, and yet suspicion made itself plain in every line +of the curio dealer's body. At last, with a gasping sigh, he sat before +the small figure of an alabaster Gaudama and stared at it with unwinking +eyes. + +"I shed no blood," he said, in a low rattling voice. "I shed no blood. +My hands are clean." + +Over and over he repeated the words, like an incantation, his voice +rising and falling, until Coryndon could have emerged from his hiding +and taken him by the throat. + +The thought of coming out upon Mhtoon Pah crossed his mind, but his +instinct held him back. He wondered desperately where Leh Shin had gone, +and if he would come in upon the Burman making his strange prayer. Still +Mhtoon Pah repeated the words and swayed to and fro before the image of +the Buddha, and the very moments seemed to pause and listen with +Coryndon. The shop was close and the air oppressive. Little trickles of +sweat ran down his neck and made channels in the stain on his skin, and +still Coryndon waited in tense suspense. + +For nearly ten minutes Mhtoon Pah continued to rock and mutter on the +floor, and then he got up, and, taking his lantern, went out by the door +into the passage. Coryndon waited for the sound of a scuffle and a +fall, but none came, and he was in the dark, surrounded by silence once +more. + +Without waiting to consider, he followed across the room and saw the +swinging light go down the passage and disappear suddenly. It seemed to +Coryndon that Mhtoon Pah had disappeared, as though he had gone through +the wall at the end of the passage, and he followed slowly. Silence +locked him in again, the dark, motionless silence of enclosed space. + +He did not dare to call out again to Leh Shin, and for all that he could +tell, the Chinaman might have been an arm's-reach away from him in the +darkness, also waiting for some sudden thing to happen. The dark passage +was an ante-chamber to some event: Coryndon's tingling nerves told him +that; and he steadied himself, holding in his imagination in a close, +resolute grip. + +He had no way of judging the time that passed, but he guessed that it +seemed longer to him than it possibly could have been; when from +somewhere far below him, he heard a cry and the noise of several voices, +all raised into indistinct clamour. + +"More than one man," he thought, as his heart beat quickly. "_More than +two_," he added, in wonder as he strained in the effort of listening. + +The noise died out, and one low wail, continuous and plaintive, filled +the blank of dark silence. Coryndon felt for his matches, and knelt on +the floor, feeling before him with his hands. The crying had ceased, and +he touched the edge of a step. A long, steep flight began just under his +hand. + +He leaned back and held the match-box in his hand, knowing that he +could not venture the descent in the dark, and as he took out a match a +new sound caught his ear. A man was running in the dark. He heard him +stumble over the lower steps as he panted fiercely and he broke into a +cry as he ran, a strange, mad, sobbing cry, and he still gasped and gave +out his wordless wail as he tore past Coryndon and on along the passage +and into the shop. + +Coryndon heard the door bang behind him, he heard the sound of some +heavy thing being dragged before it. The footsteps and the voice were +not those of Leh Shin, and Coryndon knew that Mhtoon Pah had fled like a +man pursued by devils, and had barricaded himself in. + +For a moment Coryndon paused, and then lighted a match. Close under his +feet was the perilous edge of a staircase leading sheer down into a +well-like depth of blackness. A thin scream came up to him, and without +waiting to consider, he ran down quickly. At the bottom he found Mhtoon +Pah's overturned lantern, and relighting it, he followed the +intermittent call of fear that echoed through the damp, cavernous place +he found himself in. + +A closed door stood at the end of a narrow passage, and from the further +side of the door a stifled sound of terror came persistently. Leh Shin +sat in a huddled heap against the door, and Coryndon stooped over him, +throwing the light from the lantern he carried upon him. + +"I looked into his eyes," said the Chinaman, in a weak voice, "and once +more he overcame me. His knife rent my arm, and I fell as though dead." + +Coryndon supported him to his feet. His mind was working quickly. + +"Canst thou stand by thyself?" he asked impatiently. + +The Chinaman gave a nod of assent, and Coryndon hammered on the door, +throwing all his weight against it, until it cracked and fell inwards +under the nervous force of his slight frame. + +What Coryndon expected to see, he did not know. He was following his +natural instinct when he threw aside the chase and capture of Mhtoon Pah +and burst into the cellar-room. It was small and close, and smelt of the +foul, fruity atmosphere of mildew. The ceiling was low, and crouching in +one corner was a small boy, clad only in a loin-cloth, who stared at +them and screamed with fear. + +"The Chinamen, the Chinamen!" he shrieked. "Mhtoon Pah, the Chinamen." + +"Absalom," the name came to Coryndon's lips, as he stood staring at him. +"My God, it must be Absalom." + +He had spoken in English before he had time to think, and he turned to +see if his self-betrayal had struck upon the confused brain of Leh Shin, +but Leh Shin knew nothing and saw nothing but the face of the boy his +enemy loved. He had placed the lamp on the floor and was feeling for his +dagger, his eyes fascinated and his lips working soundlessly. + +Coryndon caught him by the shoulder and snatched his knife from his +hand. + +"Fool," he said. "Wouldst thou ruin all at the end? Listen closely and +attend to me. Now is the moment to cry for the police. Thine enemy is in +a close net; show me swiftly the way by which I may go out of this +house, and sit thou here and stir not, neither cry out nor speak until +thou hearest the police. By the way I go out will I leave the door open, +and some will enter there, and others at the front of the house." + +He turned to look at the boy, who pointed at the Chinaman and continued +to shriek for Mhtoon Pah. It was no moment for hesitation, though +Coryndon's thoughts went to the shop and the front door. By that door +Mhtoon Pah might already have escaped, but even allowing for this, there +was time to catch him again. He followed the way pointed out by the +shaking hand of Leh Shin. + +"If thou fail in aught that I have told thee, or if the boy escape or +suffer under thy hand, then is thine end also come," he said, as he +stood for a moment in the aperture that led into a waste place at the +back of the house; and then Coryndon ran through the night. + +The rain had come on, teeming, relentless rain that fell in pitiless +sheets out of a black sky. The roads ran with liquid mud and the stones +cut Coryndon's bare feet, but he ran on, his lungs aching and his throat +dry. It is not easy to think with the blood hammering in the pulses and +the breath coming short through gasping lungs, but Coryndon kept his +mind fixed upon one idea with steady determination. His object was to +get into the house unnoticed, and to awake Hartley without betraying +himself to the servants. + +Hartley's bungalow was closed for the night, and the _Durwan_ slept +rolled in a blanket in a corner of the veranda. Coryndon held his +sobbing breath and crept along the shadows, watching the man closely +until the danger zone was passed, and then he ran on around the sharp +angle of the house and dived into Hartley's room. In the centre stood +the bed, draped in the ghostly outlines of white mosquito-curtains, and +Coryndon walked lightly over the matted floor and shook the bed gently. +Hartley stirred but did not wake, and Coryndon called his name and +continued to call it in a low whisper. The Head of the Police stirred +again and then sat up suddenly and answered Coryndon in the same low +undertone. + +"Get into your clothes quickly, while I tell you what has happened," +said Coryndon, sitting low in the shadow of the bed, and while Hartley +dressed he told him the details shortly and clearly. + +The bungalow was still in darkness, and, with a candle in his hand to +light him, Hartley went into his office and rang up the Paradise Street +Police Station. When he came back Coryndon was standing looking through +a corner of a raised chick. + +"The _Durwan_ is awake," he said, without turning his head. "Call him +round to the front, otherwise he may see me." + +"Come on, come on, man," said Hartley impatiently, "there is no time to +lose." + +Coryndon turned and smiled at him. + +"This is where I go out of the case," he said. "I shall be back in time +for breakfast to-morrow," and without waiting to argue the point he +dived out into the waning darkness of the night, leaving Hartley looking +helplessly after him. + + + + +XXIV + +IN WHICH A WOODEN IMAGE POINTS FOR THE LAST TIME + + +Before the Burman left Leh Shin in charge of Absalom, he had pinned the +Chinaman by the arms and spoken to him in strange, strong words that +scorched clear across the chaos in his mind and made him understand a +hidden thing. The fact that this man was not a mad convict, but a member +of the great secret society who tracked the guilty, almost stunned the +Chinaman, who knew and understood the immense power of secret societies. + +Mhtoon Pah might be driving wildly along a road leading out of +Mangadone, and though one old Chinaman and a mad Burman could not stop +him, the long arm of police law would grab and capture his gross body. +Leh Shin sat quite still, content to rest and consider this. Telegrams +flashed messages under the great bidding of authority, men sprang armed +from stations in every village, the close grip of fate was not more +close than the grasp of the awakened machinery of justice, and in the +centre of its power Mhtoon Pah was helpless as a fly in the web of a +spider. + +"He travels fast, and fear is sitting on his shoulder, for he travels +to his death," he repeated over and over, swaying backwards and +forwards. + +He had an opium pellet hidden somewhere in his clothes, and he found it +and turned it over his tongue; weariness and sleep conquered the pain, +and Leh Shin sat with his head bent forward in heavy stupor. From this +condition he awoke to lights and noises and the sound of a file working +on iron. + +The police had come and Hartley was bending over the boy, talking to him +kindly and reassuring him as far as he could. Upstairs, the heavy thud +of blows on the outer door of the shop echoed through the house with +steady, persistent sound. + +Dawn had come in real earnest, and the street, but lately returned from +the excitements of the feast at the Pagoda, was thrilled by a new and +much more satisfying sensation. Three blue-coated, leather-belted +policemen were on the top of the steps that led to the door of the curio +shop, forcing it in. The heavy bolts held, and though the padlocked +chain hung idle, the door resisted all their efforts. + +Hartley was down in the cellars, and his way through to the shop was +blocked . . . blocked by the inner door which was also closed from +inside, and somewhere within was Mhtoon Pah. He was very silent in his +shop. No amount of hammering called forth any response, and even when +the door gave way and the bolt fell clattering to the ground, he did not +spring out. + +People had sometimes wondered at the curious destiny of the wooden man. +He had been there so long and had done his duty so faithfully. In rain +or shine alike, he had always been in the street, eternally bowing the +passers up the steps. Americans had tried to buy him, and had wished to +take him home to point at other free and enlightened citizens, but +Mhtoon Pah refused all offers of money. The wooden man was faithful to +him, and he in his turn was, in some way, faithful to the wooden man. He +had been there when Mhtoon Pah was a clerk and had indicated his rise, +he had seen him take over possession of the shop, and he had been +witness to many trivial things, and now he stood, the crowd behind him, +and pointed silently again. It seemed right for him to point, but it was +grotesque that he still smiled and bent forward. + +The closed gates of the dawn opened and let in the sun, and the pale +yellow light ventured across the threshold where the policemen hung +back, and even the crowd in the street were silent. The light fell on a +thousand small things that reflected its rays; it fell on a heavy carved +box drawn across the further entrance, on the swinging glass doors of +the open silk cupboard, on bowls of silver and bowls of brass, and it +fell full on the thing that of all others drew the horrified eyes of the +watchers. + +Mhtoon Pah, the wealthy curio dealer, the shrine builder, the friend of +the powerful, hung from a beam across the centre of the low ceiling, and +Mhtoon Pah was dead, strangled in a fine, silk scarf. Fine, strong silk +made only by certain lake-dwellers in a wild place just across the Shan +frontier. + +Perhaps the destiny which Shiraz believed a man may not escape, be he as +fleet as a flying stag, had caught up with him, and it was not without +reason that the image had pointed at something not there years ago, not +there when youth was there, and hope and love, and when Leh Shin had +lived and been happy there, but to come, certainly and surely to come. + + * * * * * + +Hartley and Coryndon sat long over their breakfast. Coryndon's face was +strained and tired, and heavy lines of fatigue were marked under his +dark eyes. + +"The boy was not in a condition to give any lucid explanation when I +brought him back," said Hartley, "so I left him until we could both hear +his story together." He called to his Bearer and gave instructions for +the boy to be brought in. + +Coryndon nodded silently; his eyes lit up with interest and all his +listlessness vanished as he watched the door. + +Following Hartley's Bearer, a small, thin boy came into the room, +dressed in a white suit, with a tight white pugaree folded round his +head. He shrank nervously at every sound, and when he salaamed to +Hartley and Coryndon his face worked as though he was going to burst +into tears. + +"You have nothing to be afraid of," said Hartley kindly. "Just tell the +whole truth, and explain how it was that you came to be shut up in the +curio shop." + +The boy's eyes grew less terrified, and he began to speak in a low, +mumbling voice. He began in the middle of the account, and Hartley +gently but firmly pushed him back to the beginning. + +"Start with the story of the lacquer bowl," he said, talking very slowly +and clearly. "We want to hear what happened about that first." + +The mention of the subject of lacquer threw Absalom once more into a +state of panic, but as his story progressed he became more sure of +himself, and looked up, forgetting his fear in the excitement of having +a really remarkable story to tell, that was listened to by Sahibs with +intent interest. + +In tearful, stumbling words he admitted that he and Leh Shin's assistant +had been friends, and that those evil communications that corrupt not +only good manners but good morals had worked with disastrous results +upon him. With his brown knuckles to his protruding eyes, he admitted, +further, that he had stolen the gold lacquer bowl from the drugged and +drunken seaman, and that Leh Shin's assistant had plundered him of more +than half his rightful share of the profit. What remained over, he +protested, he intended to give to the "Missen," testifying to the fact +that his conscience was causing him uneasiness and that his natural +superstition made him adopt means, not unknown to other financiers, of +squaring things by a donation to a charitable object. + +He went on to explain that Mhtoon Pah had required him to come back late +by an unfrequented alley, from where his master himself had admitted him +into the basement of the shop. There was nothing altogether unusual +about this, it appeared, as Mhtoon Pah was very strange in his ways at +times. He cooked his own food for fear of poison, and was constantly +suspecting some indefinite enemy of designs upon his life. What was +unusual was the fact that he had been taken at once into the small cell, +and that, once there, Mhtoon Pah had behaved like a madman. + +Absalom could recall no coherent account of what the curio dealer had +told him. He had spoken to him of murder, and told him that the Chinamen +in the Quarter, headed by Leh Shin, were looking for him to kill him, +and that, for his safety, he must remain hidden away. Mhtoon Pah told +him that he would protect him, and that he would produce evidence to +have Leh Shin hanged, and that once he was dead he would then emerge +again, but not until then. He told him how Chinamen killed their +victims, and his fears and terrors communicated themselves to the boy, +who delivered himself up to bondage without resistance. + +For weeks Absalom dragged out a miserable existence, loose when Mhtoon +Pah was in the shop, but chained to the wall whenever he went out, and +only for an hour after midnight was the boy ever allowed to emerge into +the dark, waste garden at the back of the house. The rest of the time +was spent in the cell, and Absalom broke into incoherent wailing as he +called Hartley and Coryndon to witness that it had been a hard life. + +As the end of his story approached, Absalom grew more dramatic and +quoted the parting words of Mhtoon Pah before he went out to attend the +_Pwé_ at the Pagoda. + +"I leave thee in fear," said he, "for thou art the apple of my eye, O +Absalom, and when I am gone some calamity may befall. From whence it +comes I know not, but as men look at the heaped clouds behind the hills +and say, 'Lo, it will soon fall in rain,' so does my heart look out and +observe darkness, and I am ill-satisfied to quit this house." + +His words rang in the mind of the boy, shut into the stifling darkness +below the ground, and he remembered that he cried out for help, not once +but over and over again, and that his cries were eventually answered by +the voice of Leh Shin, who had called him a child of vipers and +threatened to enter and break him against the wall as he would a +plantain. After that Absalom had refrained from crying out, and had +waited silently expecting the door to open and admit Leh Shin and his +last moment simultaneously. Upon the silence came the sounds of +scuffling and hoarse cries, and it seemed to Absalom that Leh Shin had +called out that he had already cut the heart from his ribs, and was +about to force it down Mhtoon Pah's throat, and then nothing was very +clear until voices and lights roused him from stupor to fresh terror and +alarm. + +He knew that the door had been unlocked and that a light travelled in, +held by a strange Burman, and that his terror of Leh Shin had made him +see things strangely, as though from a long way off; until, at the last, +the police had come and knocked the chain off his leg, and someone had +told him that his master was dead and had been found hanging in the +shop. + +Absalom's face quivered and he began to whimper. + +"And now my master is dead, and never in Mangadone shall I find such +another who will care for me and give me the pleasant life in Paradise +Street." + +Hartley handed the boy some money. + +"Take him away," he said to the Bearer. "You have told your story very +well, Absalom." + +He looked across at Coryndon when the room was empty, but Coryndon was +fiddling with some crumbs at the edge of the table. + +"Madness is the real explanation, I suppose," he said tentatively. +"Madness and obsession." + +"Obsession," echoed Coryndon. "That word explains almost every +inexplicable act in life." He took up a knife and held it level on his +palm. "There you have the normal condition, but once one end swings up +you get Genius and all the Arts, or madness and crime and the obsession +of one idea: one definite, over-mastering idea that drives every force +harnessed to its car." + +He got up and stretched his arms, and walked out through the veranda +into his room, where Shiraz was folding his clothes and laying them in +an open portmanteau. The old servant stood up and made a low salaam to +his master. + +"When the sun is down the wise traveller hurries to the Serai," Coryndon +said to him. "I leave to-night for Madras, Shiraz, and you with me." + +"The end of all things is just, Huzoor," replied the old man, a strange +light of reflection in his dim pebble-like eyes. "Is it not written that +none may rise so high, or plunge so deep, that he does not follow the +hidden path to the hidden end? For like a wind that goes and returns +never, or the shadow of a cloud passing over the desert, is the destiny +of a man." + + + + +GLOSSARY + + +_Almirah_ A press +_Babu_ A clerk +_Butti_ Lamp +_Charpoy_ Bed +_Chota haziri_ (Little breakfast) Early morning tea +_Dhobie_ Washerman +_Durwan_ Watchman +_Ghee_ Butter +_Gharry_ Cab +_Gaudama_ Buddha +_Htee_ Topmost pinnacle +_Hypongyi_ Priests +_Inshallah, Huzoor_ God give you fortune, Prince +_Joss_ A god +_Khitmutghar_ Footman +_Loongyi_ Petticoat +_Napi_ Rotten fish +_Nats_ Tree spirits +_Pani walla_ Water carrier +_Pwé_ Feast +_Serai_ Rest house +_Sirkar_ Government +_Syce_ Groom +_Tamasha_ A show +_Thakin_ Master +_Topi_ Hat + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Pointing Man, by Marjorie Douie + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14049 *** diff --git a/14049-h/14049-h.htm b/14049-h/14049-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..044ba18 --- /dev/null +++ b/14049-h/14049-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7848 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?> +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Pointing Man, by Marjorie Douie. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + } + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + ins.correction {border-bottom-style: dotted; border-bottom-color: red; border-bottom-width: 1px;} + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; left: 12%; text-align: left;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14049 ***</div> + +<h1>THE POINTING MAN</h1> + +<h3><i>A Burmese Mystery</i></h3> + +<h2>BY MARJORIE DOUIE</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<span>NEW YORK</span><br /> +<span>E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY</span><br /> +<span>1920</span> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<h4><a href="#I">IN WHICH THE DESTINY THAT PLAYS WITH MEN MOVES THE PIECES ON THE +BOARD</a></h4> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<h4><a href="#II">TELLS THE STORY OF A LOSS, AND HOW IT AFFECTED THE REV. FRANCIS +HEATH</a></h4> + +<h3>III</h3> + +<h4><a href="#III">INDICATES A STANDPOINT COMMONLY SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT THE +PRINCIPLES OF THE JESUIT FATHERS</a></h4> + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<h4><a href="#IV">INTRODUCES THE READER TO MRS. WILDER IN A SECRETIVE MOOD</a></h4> + +<h3>V</h3> + +<h4><a href="#V">CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, FINDS THAT HIS MEMORY IS NOT TO BE +TRUSTED</a></h4> + +<h3>VI</h3> + +<h4><a href="#VI">TELLS HOW ATKINS EXPLAINS FACTS BY PEOPLE AND NOT PEOPLE BY +FACTS, AND HOW HARTLEY, HEAD OF THE POLICE, SMELLS THE SCENT OF +APPLE ORCHARDS GROWING IN A FOOL'S PARADISE</a></h4> + +<h3>VII</h3> + +<h4><a href="#VII">FINDS THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH READING GEORGE HERBERT'S POEMS, AND +LEAVES HIM PLEDGED TO A POSSIBLY COMPROMISING SILENCE</a></h4> + +<h3>VIII</h3> + +<h4><a href="#VIII">SHOWS HOW THE CLOAK OF DARKNESS OF ONE NIGHT HIDES MANY +EMOTIONS, AND MRS. WILDER IS FRANKLY INQUISITIVE</a></h4> + +<h3>IX</h3> + +<h4><a href="#IX">MRS. WILDER IS PRESENTED IN A MELTING MOOD, AND DRAYCOTT WILDER +IS FORCED TO RECALL THE LINES COMMENCING "A FOOL THERE WAS"</a></h4> + +<h3>X</h3> + +<h4><a href="#X">IN WHICH CRAVEN JOICEY IS OVERCOME BY A SUDDEN INDISPOSITION, +AND HARTLEY, WITHOUT LOOKING FOR HIM, FINDS THE MAN HE WANTED</a></h4> + +<h3>XI</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XI">SHOWS HOW THE "WHISPER FROM THE DAWN OF LIFE" ENABLES CORYNDON +TO TAKE THE DRIFTING THREADS BETWEEN HIS FINGERS</a></h4> + +<h3>XII</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XII">SHOWS HOW A MAN MAY CLIMB A HUNDRED STEPS INTO A PASSIONLESS +PEACE, AND RETURN AGAIN TO A WORLD OF SMALL TORMENTS</a></h4> + +<h3>XIII</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XIII">PUTS FORWARD THE FACT THAT A SUDDEN FRIENDSHIP NEED NOT BE BASED +UPON A SUDDEN LIKING; AND PASSES THE NIGHT UNTIL DAWN REVEALS A +SHAMEFUL SECRET</a></h4> + +<h3>XIV</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XIV">TELLS HOW SHIRAZ, THE PUNJABI, ADMITTED THE FRAILTIES OF +ORDINARY HUMANITY, AND HOW CORYNDON ATTENDED AFTERNOON SERVICE, +AND CONSIDERED THE VEXED QUESTION OF TEMPERAMENT</a></h4> + +<h3>XV</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XV">IN WHICH THE FURTHERING OF A STRANGE COMRADESHIP IS CONTINUED, +AND A BEGGAR FROM AMRITZAR CRIES IN THE STREETS OF MANGADONE</a></h4> + +<h3>XVI</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XVI">IN WHICH LEH SHIN IS BREATHED UPON BY A JOSS AND EXPERIENCES THE +TERROR OF A MAN WHO TOUCHES THE VEIL BEHIND WHICH THE IMMORTALS +DWELL</a></h4> + +<h3>XVII</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XVII">TELLS HOW CORYNDON LEARNS FROM THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH WHAT THE +REV. FRANCIS HEATH NEVER TOLD HIM</a></h4> + +<h3>XVIII</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XVIII">THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH UNLOCKS HIS DOOR AND SHOWS WHAT LIES +BEHIND</a></h4> + +<h3>XIX</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XIX">IN WHICH LEH SHIN WHISPERS A STORY INTO THE EAR OF SHIRAZ, THE +PUNJABI; THE BURDEN OF WHICH IS: "HAVE I FOUND THEE, O MINE +ENEMY?"</a></h4> + +<h3>XX</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XX">CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, IS FACED BY A MAN WITH A WHIP IN HIS +HAND, AND CORYNDON FINDS A CLUE</a></h4> + +<h3>XXI</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XXI">DEMONSTRATES THE PERSUASIVE POWER OF A KNIFE EDGE, AND TELLS A +STORY OF A GOLD LACQUER BOWL</a></h4> + +<h3>XXII</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XXII">IN WHICH CORYNDON HOLDS THE LAST THREAD AND DRAWS IT TIGHT</a></h4> + +<h3>XXIII</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XXIII">DEMONSTRATES THE TRUTH OF THE AXIOM THAT "THE UNEXPECTED ALWAYS +HAPPENS"</a></h4> + +<h3>XXIV</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XXIV">IN WHICH A WOODEN IMAGE POINTS FOR THE LAST TIME</a></h4> + +<h4><a href="#GLOSSARY">GLOSSARY</a></h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_POINTING_MAN" id="THE_POINTING_MAN" />THE POINTING MAN</h2> + +<h2><a name="I" id="I" />I</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH THE DESTINY THAT PLAYS WITH MEN MOVES THE PIECES ON THE BOARD</h3> + + +<p>Dust lay thick along the road that led through the very heart of the +native quarter of Mangadone; dust raised into a misty haze which hung in +the air and actually introduced a light undernote of red into the +effect. Dust, which covered the bare feet of the coolies, the velvet +slippers of the Burmese, which encroached everywhere and no one +regarded, for presently, just at sundown, shouting watermen, carrying +large bamboo vessels with great spouts, would come running along the +road, casting the splashing water on all sides, and reduce the dry +powder to temporary mud.</p> + +<p>The main street of the huge bazaar in Mangadone was as busy a +thoroughfare as any crowded lane of the city of London, and it blazed +with colour and life as the evening air grew cool. There were shops +where baskets were sold, shops apparently devoted only to the sale of +mirrors, shops where tailors sat on the ground and worked at sewing +machines; sweet stalls, food stalls, cafés, flanked by dusty tubs of +plants and crowded with customers, who reclined on sofas and chairs set +right into the street itself. Nearer the river end of the street, the +shops were more important, and business offices announced themselves on +large placards inscribed in English, and in curling Burmese characters +like small worms hooping and arching themselves, and again in thick +black letters which resembled tea leaves formed into the picturesque +design of Chinese writing, for Mangadone was one of the most +cosmopolitan ports of the East, and stood high in the commercial world +as a place for trade.</p> + +<p>Along the street a motley of colour took itself like a sea of shades and +tints. Green, crimson, lemon yellow, lapis-lazuli, royal purple, +intermingled with the naked brown bodies of coolies clad only in +loin-cloths, for every race and class emerged just before sunset. Rich +Burmen clad in yards of stiff, rustling silk jostled the lean, spare +Chinamen and the Madrassis who came to Mangadone to make money out of +the indolence of the natives of a place who cared to do little but smoke +and laugh. Poor Burmen in red and yellow cottons, as content with life +as their wealthy brethren, loitered and smoked with the little +white-coated women with flower-decked heads, and they all flowed on with +the tide and filled the air with a perpetual babel of sound.</p> + +<p>The great, high houses on either side of the street were dilapidated and +gaunt, let out for the most part in flats and tenements. Screaming +children swarmed naked and entirely unconcerned upon every landing, and +out on the verandas that gave publicity to the way of life in the +native quarter. Sometimes a rag of curtain covered the entrances to the +houses, but just as often it did not. Women washed the big brass and +earthenware pots, cooked the food, and played with the children in the +smoky darkness, or sat to watch the evening show of the street.</p> + +<p>At one corner of the upper end of the street was a curio and china shop +owned by a stout and wealthy Burman, Mhtoon Pah. The shop was one of the +features of the place, and no globe-trotting tourist could pass through +Mangadone without buying a set of tea-cups, a dancing devil, a carpet, +or a Burmese gong, from Mhtoon Pah. A strange-looking effigy in tight +breeches, with pointing yellow hands and a smiling yellow face, stood +outside the shop, eternally asking people in wooden, dumb show, to go in +and be robbed by the proprietor. He had stood there and pointed for so +long that the green glaze of his coat was sun-blistered, but he +invariably drew the attention of passing tourists, and acted as a +sign-board. He pointed at a small door up a flight of steps, and behind +the small door was a dark shop, smelling of sandal-wood and cassia, and +strong with the burning fumes of joss-sticks. Innumerable cardboard +boxes full of Japanese dolls, full of glass bracelets of all colours, +full of ivory figures, and full of amber and jade ornaments, were piled +in the shelves. Silver bands, embossed in relief with the history of the +Gaudama—the Lord Buddha—stood under glass protection, and everything +that the heart of the touring American or Britisher could desire was to +be had, at a price, in the curio shop of Mhtoon Pah. Umbrellas of all +colours from Bussan; silk from Shantung; carpets from Mirzapore; silver +peacocks, Japanese embroideries, shell-trimmed bags from Shan and +Cochin, all were there; and the wealth of Mhtoon Pah was great.</p> + +<p>Everybody knew the curio dealer: he had beguiled and swindled each new +arrival in Mangadone, and his personality helped to make him a very +definite figure in the place. He was a large man, his size accentuated +by his full silk petticoat; a man with large feet, large hands and a +round bullet head, set on a thick neck. He had a few sleek black hairs +at the corners of his mouth, and his long, narrow eyes, with thick +yellow whites and inky-black pupils, never expressed any emotion. +Clothed in strawberry-red silk and a white coat, with a crimson scarf +knotted low over his forehead, he was very nearly as strange and +wonderful a sight as his own shop of myriad wares, and his manner was at +all times the manner of a Grand Duke. Mhtoon Pah was as well known as +the pointing effigy outside, but, whereas the world in the street +believed they knew what the wooden man pointed at, no one could ever +tell what Mhtoon Pah saw, and no one knew except Mhtoon Pah himself.</p> + +<p>All day long Mhtoon Pah sat inside his shop on a low divan and smoked +cheroots, and only when a customer was of sufficient importance did he +ever rise to conduct a sale himself. He was assisted by a thin, eager +boy, a native Christian from Ootacamund, who had followed several trades +before he became the shop assistant of Mhtoon Pah. He was useful +because he could speak English, and he had been dressing-boy to a +married Sahib who lived in a big house at the end of the Cantonment, +therefore he knew something of the ways of Mem-Sahibs; and he had taken +a prize at the Sunday school, therefore Absalom was a boy of good +character, and was known very nearly as well as Mhtoon Pah himself.</p> + +<p>It was a hot, stifling evening, the evening of July the 29th. The rains +had lashed the country for days, and even the trees that grew in among +the houses of Paradise Street were fresh and green, though one of the +hot, burning breaks of blue sky and glaring sunlight had baked the road +into Indian-red dust once more, and the interior of Mhtoon Pah's curio +shop was heavy with stale scents and dark shadows that crept out as the +gloom of evening settled in upon it. Mhtoon Pah moved about looking at +his goods, and touching them with careful hands. He hovered over an +ivory lady carrying an umbrella, and looked long at a white marble +Buddha, who returned his look with an equally inscrutable regard. The +Buddha sat cross-legged, thinking for ever and ever about eternity, and +Mhtoon Pah moved round in red velvet toe-slippers, pattering lightly as +he went, for in spite of his bulk Mhtoon Pah had an almost soundless +walk. Having gone over everything and stood to count the silver bowls, +he waited as though he was listening, and after a little the light creak +of the staircase warned him that steps were coming towards the shop from +the upper rooms.</p> + +<p>"Absalom," he called, and the steps hurried, and after a moment's talk +to which the boy listened carefully as though receiving directions, he +told him to close the shop and place his chair at the top of the steps, +as he desired to sit outside and look at the street.</p> + +<p>When the chair was placed, Mhtoon Pah took up his elevated position and +smoked silently. The toil of the day was over, and he leaned his arm +along the back of his chair and crossed one leg over his knee. He could +hear Absalom closing the shop behind him, and he turned his curious, +expressionless eyes upon the boy as he passed down the steps and mingled +with the crowd in the street. Just opposite, a story-teller squatted on +the ground in the centre of a group of men who laughed and clapped their +hands, his flashing teeth and quick gesticulations adding to each point +he made; it was still clear enough to see his alternating expression of +assumed anger or amusement. It was clear enough to notice the coloured +scarves and smiling faces of a bullock cart full of girls going slowly +homewards, and it was clear enough to see and recognize the Rev. Francis +Heath, hurrying at speed between the crowd; clear enough to see the Rev. +Francis stop for a moment to wish his old pupil Absalom good evening, +and then vanish quickly like a figure flashed on a screen by a +cinematograph.</p> + +<p>Lights came out in high windows and sounds of bagpipes and beating +tom-toms began inside the open doors of a nautch house. An evil-looking +house where green dragons curled up the fretted entrance, and where, +overhead, faces peered from a balcony into the street. There was noise +enough there to attract any amount of attention. Smart carriages, with +white-uniformed <i>syces</i>, hurried up, bearing stout, plethoric men from +the wharf offices, and Mhtoon Pah saluted several of the sahibs, who +reclined in comfort behind fine pairs of trotting horses.</p> + +<p>Their time for passing having gone, and the street relieved of the +disturbance, lamps were carried out and set upon tables and booths, but +a few red streaks of evening tinted the sky, and faces that passed were +still recognizable. A bay pony ridden by a lady almost at a gallop came +so fast that she was up the street and round the corner in a twinkling. +If Mrs. Wilder was dining out on the night of July 29th she was running +things close; equally so if she was receiving guests.</p> + +<p>A flare of light from a window opposite fell across the face of the +dancing man, who pointed at Mhtoon Pah, and appeared to make him offer +his principal for sale, or introduce him to the street with an +indicating finger. The gloom grew, calling out the lights into strength, +but the concourse did not thin: it only gathered in numbers, and the +long, moaning hoot of an out-going tramp filled the air as though with a +wail of sorrow at departure. Lascars in coal-begrimed tunics joined in +with the rest, adding their voices to the babel, and round-hatted +sailors from the Royal Indian Marine ships mingled with them.</p> + +<p>All up and down the Mangadone River lights came out. Clear lights along +the land, and wavering torch-lights in the water. Ships' port-holes +cleared themselves in the darkness, ships' lights gleamed green and red +in high stars up in the crows'-nests, or at the shapeless bulk of dark +bows, and white sheets of strong electric clearness lay over one or two +landing-stages where craft was moored alongside and overtime work still +continued. Little sampans glided in and out like whispers, and small +boats with crossed oars, rowed by one man, ferried to and fro, but it +was late, and, gradually, all commercial traffic ceased.</p> + +<p>It was quite late now, an hour when European life had withdrawn to the +Cantonment. It was not an hour for Sahibs on foot to be about, and yet +it seemed that there was one who found the night air of July 29th hot +and close, and desired to go towards the river for the sake of the +breeze and the fresh air. He, too, like all the others, passed along +Paradise Street, passing quickly, as the others had passed, his head +bent and his eyes averted from the faces that looked up at him from easy +chairs, from crowded doorsteps, or that leaned over balconies. He, also, +whoever he was, had not Mhtoon Pah's leisure to regard the street, and +he went on with a steady, quick walk which took him out on to the wharf, +and from the wharf along a waste place where the tram lines ceased, and +away from there towards a cluster of lights in a house close over the +dark river itself.</p> + +<p>The stars came out overhead, and the Southern Cross leaned down; seen +from the river over the twin towers of the cathedral, seen from the +cathedral brooding over the native quarter, seen in Paradise Street not +at all, and not in any way missed by the inhabitants, whose eyes were +not upon the stars; seen again in the Cantonment, over the massed trees +of the park, and seen remarkably well from the wide veranda of Mrs. +Wilder's bungalow, where the guests sat after a long dinner, remarking +upon the heat and oppressiveness of the tropic night. The fire-flies +danced over the trees like iridescent sparks hung on invisible gauze, +and even came into the lighted drawing-room, to sparkle with less +radiance against the plain white walls. Fans whirred round and round +like large tee-totums set near the ceiling, and even the electric light +appeared to give out heat; no breeze stirred from the far-away river, no +coolness came with the dark, no relief from the brooding, sultry heat. +It was no hotter than many nights in any break in the rains, but the +guests invited by Mrs. Wilder felt the languor of the air, and felt it +more profoundly because their hostess herself was affected by it.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder was a dark, handsome woman of thirty-five, usually full of +life and animation, and her dinners were known to be entertainments in +the real sense of the word. Draycott Wilder was no mate for her in +appearance or manner, but Draycott Wilder was marked by the Powers as a +successful man. He took very little part in the social side of their +married life, and sat in the shadow near the lighted door, listening +while his guests talked. The party was in no way different to many +others, and it would have ended and been forgotten by all concerned if +it had not been for the fact that an unusual occurrence broke it up in +dismay. Mrs. Wilder complained of the heat during dinner, and she had +been pale, looking doubly so in her vivid green dress; her usual +animation had vanished, and she talked with evident effort and seemed +glad of the darkness of the veranda.</p> + +<p>Suddenly one of those strange silences fell over everyone, silences that +may be of a few seconds' duration, but that appear like hours. What they +are connected with, no one can guess. The silence lasted for a second, +and it was broken with sudden violence.</p> + +<p>"My God," said the voice of Hartley, the Head of the Police, speaking in +tones of alarm. "Mrs. Wilder has fainted!" She had fallen forward in her +chair, and he had caught her as she fell.</p> + +<p>Very soon the guests dispersed and the bungalow was still for the night. +One or two waited to hear what the doctor had to say, and went away +satisfied in the knowledge that the heat had been too much for Mrs. +Wilder, and, but for that event, the dinner-party would have been +forgotten after two days. Hartley was the last to leave, and the sound +of trotting hoofs grew faint along the road.</p> + +<p>By an hour after midnight nearly the whole white population can be +presumed to be asleep; day wakes early in the East, and there are few +who keep all-night hours, because morning calls men from their beds to +their work, and even this hot, sultry night people lay on their beds and +tried to sleep; but in the small bungalow where the Rev. Francis Heath +lived with a solitary Sapper officer, the bed that he slept in was +smooth and unstirred by restless tossing inside the mosquito net.</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis was out, sitting by the bed of a dying parishioner. He +watched the long hours through, dressed as he had been in the afternoon, +in a grey flannel suit, his thin neck too long and too spare for his +all-around collar, and as he watched sometimes and sometimes prayed, he +too felt the pressure of the night.</p> + +<p>The woman he prayed beside was dying and quite unconscious of his +presence. Now and then, to relieve the strain, he got up and stood by +the window, looking at the lights against the sky and thinking very +definitely of something that troubled him and drew his lips into a +tight, thin line. He was a young man of the type described usually as +"zealous" and "earnest," and a light that was almost the light of +fanaticism shone in his eyes. A dying parishioner was no more of a +novelty to Mr. Heath, than one of Mrs. Wilder's dinner-parties was to +her guests, and yet the woman on the bed appealed to his pity as few +others had done in his experience.</p> + +<p>When the doctor came he nodded to the clergyman and just touched the +hand on the quilt. He was in evening dress, and he explained that he had +been detained owing to his hostess having been taken suddenly ill.</p> + +<p>"Where is Rydal himself?"</p> + +<p>He asked the question carelessly, dropping the pulseless wrist.</p> + +<p>"Who can tell?" said the Rev. Francis Heath.</p> + +<p>"He'd better keep out of the way," continued the doctor. "I believe +there's a police warrant out for him. Hartley spoke of it to-night. She +will be gone before morning, and a good job for her."</p> + +<p>The throbbing hot night wore on, and July the 29th became July the 30th, +and Mangadone awoke to a fierce, tearing thunder-storm that boomed and +crashed and wore itself out in torrents of heavy rain.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II" />II</h2> + +<h3>TELLS THE STORY OF A LOSS, AND HOW IT AFFECTED THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH</h3> + + +<p>Half-way up a low hill rise on the far side of the Mangadone Cantonment +was the bungalow of Hartley, Head of the Police. It was a tidy, +well-kept house, the house of a bachelor who had an eye to things +himself and who was well served by competent servants. Hartley had +reached the age of forty without having married, and he was solid of +build and entirely sensible and practical of mind. He was spoken of as +"sound" and "capable," for it is thus we describe men with a word, and +his mind was adjusted so as to give room for only one idea at a time. He +was convinced that he was tactful to a fault, nothing had ever shaken +him in this belief, and his personal courage was the courage of the +British lion. Hartley was popular and on friendly and confidential terms +with everybody.</p> + +<p>Mangadone, like most other places in the East, was as full of cliques as +a book is of words, but Hartley regarded them not at all. Popularity was +his weakness and his strength, and he swam in all waters and was invited +everywhere. Mrs. Wilder, who knew exactly who to treat with distant +condescension and who to ignore entirely, invariably included him in +her intimate dinners, and the Chief Commissioner, also a bachelor, +invited him frequently and discussed many topics with him as the wine +circled. Even Craven Joicey, the banker, who made very few acquaintances +and fewer intimates, was friendly with Hartley; one of those odd, +unlikely friendships that no one understands.</p> + +<p>The week following upon the thunder-storm had been a week of grey skies +over an acid-green world, and even Hartley became conscious that there +is something mournful about a tropical country without a sun in the sky +as he sat in his writing-room. It was gloomy there, and the palm trees +outside tossed and swayed, and the low mist wraiths down in the valley +clung and folded like cotton-wool, hiding the town and covering it up to +the very top spires of the cathedral. Hartley was making out a report on +a case of dacoity against a Chinaman, but the light in the room was bad, +and he pushed back his chair impatiently and shouted to the boy to bring +a lamp.</p> + +<p>His tea was set out on a small lacquer table near his chair, and his +fox-terrier watched him with imploring eyes, occasionally voicing his +feelings in a stifled bark. The boy came in answer to his call, carrying +the lamp in his hands, and put it down near Hartley, who turned up the +wick, and fell to his reading again; then, putting the report into a +locked drawer, he drew his chair from the writing-table and poured out a +cup of tea.</p> + +<p>He had every reason to suppose that his day's work was done, and that he +could start off for the Club when his tea was finished. The wind rattled +the palm branches and came in gusts through the veranda, banging doors +and shaking windows, and the evening grew dark early, with the +comfortless darkness of rain overhead, when the wheels of a carriage +sounded on the damp, sodden gravel outside. Hartley got up and peered +through the curtain that hung across the door. Callers at such an hour +upon such a day were not acceptable, and he muttered under his breath, +feeling relieved, however, when he saw a fat and heavy figure in Burmese +clothing get out from the <i>gharry</i>.</p> + +<p>"If that is anyone to see me on business, say that this is neither the +place nor the hour to come," he shouted to the boy, and returning to the +tea-table, poured out a saucer of milk for the eager terrier, now +divided between his duties as a dog and his feelings as an animal.</p> + +<p>The boy reappeared after a pause, bearing a message to the effect that +Mhtoon Pah begged an immediate interview upon a subject so pressing that +it could not wait.</p> + +<p>Hartley listened to the message, swore under his breath, and looked +sharply at Mhtoon Pah when he came into the room. Usually the curio +dealer had a smile and a suave, pleasant manner, but on this occasion +all his suavity was gone, and his eyes, usually so inexpressive and +secret, were lighted with a strange, wolfish look of anger and rage that +was almost suggestive of insanity.</p> + +<p>He bowed before the Head of the Police and began to talk in broken, +gasping words, waving his hands as he spoke. His story was confused and +rambling, but what he told was to the effect that his boy, Absalom, had +disappeared and could not be found.</p> + +<p>"It was the night of the 29th of July, <i>Thakin</i>, and I sent him forth +upon a business. Next morning he did not return. It was I who opened the +shop, it was I who waited upon customers, and Absalom was not there."</p> + +<p>"What inquiries have you made?"</p> + +<p>"All that may be made, <i>Thakin</i>. His mother comes crying to my door, his +brothers have searched everywhere. Ah, that I had the body of the man +who has done this thing, and held him in the sacred tank, to make food +for the fishes."</p> + +<p>His dark eyes gleamed, and he showed his teeth like a dog.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, man," said Hartley, quickly. "You seem to suppose that the +boy is dead. What reason have you for imagining that there has been foul +play?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Seem</i> to suppose, <i>Thakin?</i>" Mhtoon Pah gasped again, like a drowning +man. "And yet the <i>Thakin</i> knows the sewer city, the Chinese quarter, +the streets where men laugh horribly in the dark. Houses there, +<i>Thakin</i>, that crawl with yellow men, who are devils, and who split a +man as they would split a fowl—" he broke off, and waved his hands +about wildly.</p> + +<p>Hartley felt a little sick; there was something so hideous in the way +Mhtoon Pah expressed himself that he recoiled a step and summoned his +common sense to his aid.</p> + +<p>"Who saw Absalom last?"</p> + +<p>"Many people must have seen him. I sat myself outside the shop at sunset +to watch the street, and had sent Absalom forth upon a business, a +private business: he was a good boy. Many saw him go out, but no one saw +him return."</p> + +<p>"That is no use, Mhtoon Pah; you must give me some names. Who saw the +boy besides yourself?"</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah opened his mouth twice before any sound came, and he beat his +hands together.</p> + +<p>"The Padre Sahib, going in a hurry, spoke a word to him; I saw that with +my eyes."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Heath?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>Thakin</i>, no other."</p> + +<p>"And besides Mr. Heath, was there anyone else who saw him?"</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah bowed himself double in his chair and rocked about.</p> + +<p>"The whole street saw him go, but none saw him return, neither will +they. They took Absalom into some dark place, and when his blood ran +over the floor, and out under the doors, the Chinamen got their little +knives, the knives that have long tortoise-shell handles, and very sharp +edges, and then—"</p> + +<p>"For God's sake stop talking like that," said Hartley, abruptly. "There +isn't a fragment of evidence to prove that the boy is murdered. I am +sorry for you, Mhtoon Pah, but I warn you that if you let yourself think +of things like that you will be in a lunatic asylum in a week."</p> + +<p>He took out a sheet of paper and made careful notes. The boy had been +gone four to five days, and beyond the fact that the Rev. Francis Heath +had seen and spoken to him, no one else was named as having passed along +Paradise Street. The clergyman's evidence was worth nothing at all, +except to prove that the boy had left Mhtoon Pah's shop at the time +mentioned, and Mhtoon Pah explained that the "private business" was to +buy a gold lacquer bowl desired by Mrs. Wilder, who had come to the shop +a day or two before and given the order. Gold lacquer bowls were +difficult to procure, and he had charged the boy to search for it in the +morning and to buy it, if possible, from the opium dealer Leh Shin, who +could be securely trusted to be half-drugged at an early hour.</p> + +<p>"It was the morning I spoke of, <i>Thakin</i>," said the curio dealer, who +had grown calmer. "But Absalom did not return to his home that night. He +may have gone to Leh Shin; he was a diligent boy, a good boy, always +eager in the pursuit of his duty and advantage."</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry for you, Mhtoon Pah," said Hartley again, "and I shall +investigate the matter. I know Leh Shin, and I consider it quite +unlikely that he has had anything to do with it."</p> + +<p>When Mhtoon Pah rattled away in the yellow <i>gharry</i>, Hartley put the +notes on one side. It was a police matter, and he could trust his staff +to work the subject up carefully under his supervision, and going to the +telephone, he communicated the principal facts to the head office, +mentioning the name of Leh Shin and the story of the gold lacquer bowl, +and giving instructions that Leh Shin was to be tactfully interrogated.</p> + +<p>When Hartley hung up the receiver he took his hat and waterproof and +went out into the warm, damp dusk of the evening. There was something +that he did not like about the weather. It was heavy, oppressive, +stifling, and though there was air in plenty, it was the stale air of a +day that seemed never to have got out of bed, but to have lain in a +close room behind the shut windows of Heaven.</p> + +<p>He remembered the boy Absalom well, and could recall his dark, eager +face, bulging eyes and protuberant under-lip, and the idea of his having +been decoyed off unto some place of horror haunted him. It was still on +his mind when he walked into the Club veranda and joined a group of men +in the bar. Joicey, the banker, was with them, silent, morose, and moody +according to his wont, taking no particular notice of anything or +anybody. Fitzgibbon, a young Irish barrister-at-law, was talking, and +laughing and doing his best to keep the company amused, but he could get +no response out of Joicey. Hartley was received with acclamations suited +to his general reputation for popularity, and he stood talking for a +little, glad to shake off his feeling of depression. When he saw Mr. +Heath come in and go up the staircase to an upstairs room, he followed +him with his eyes and decided to take the opportunity to speak to him.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Joicey?" he asked, speaking to the banker. "You look +as if you had fever."</p> + +<p>"I'm all right," Joicey spoke absently. "It's this infernally stuffy +weather, and the evenings."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad it's that," laughed Fitzgibbon, "I thought that it might be +me. I'm so broke that even my tea at <i>Chota haziri</i> is getting badly +overdrawn."</p> + +<p>"Dine with me on Saturday," suggested Hartley, "I've seen very little of +you just lately."</p> + +<p>Joicey looked up and nodded.</p> + +<p>"I'll come," he said, laconically, and Hartley, finishing his drink, +went up the staircase.</p> + +<p>The reading-room of the Club was usually empty at that hour, and the +great tables littered with papers, free to any studious reader. When +Hartley came in, the Rev. Francis Heath had the place entirely to +himself, and was sitting with a copy of the <i>Saturday Review</i> in his +hands. He did not hear Hartley come in, and he started as his name was +spoken, and putting down the <i>Review</i>, looked at the Head of the Police +with questioning eyes.</p> + +<p>"I've come to talk over something with you, Heath," Hartley began, +drawing a chair close to the table. "Can you remember anything at all of +what you were doing on the evening of July the twenty-ninth?"</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis Heath dropped his paper, and stooped to pick it up; +certainly he found the evening hot, for his face ran with trickles of +perspiration.</p> + +<p>"July the twenty-ninth?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's the date. I am particularly anxious to know if you remember +it."</p> + +<p>Mr. Heath wiped his neck with his handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"I held service as usual at five o'clock."</p> + +<p>Hartley looked at him; there was something undeniably strained in the +clergyman's eyes and voice.</p> + +<p>"Ah, but what I am after took place later."</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis Heath moistened his lips and stood up.</p> + +<p>"My memory is constantly at fault," he said, avoiding Hartley's eyes and +looking at the ground. "I would not like to make any specific statement +without—without—reference to my note-book."</p> + +<p>Hartley stared in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"This is only a small matter, Heath. I was trying to get round to my +point in the usual way, by giving no actual indication of what I wanted +to know. You see, if you tell a man what you want, he sometimes imagines +that what he did on another day is what really happened on the actual +occasion, and that, as you can imagine, makes our job very difficult. I +don't want to bother you, but as your name was mentioned to me in +connection with a certain investigation, I wished to test the truth of +my man's statement."</p> + +<p>Heath stood in the same attitude, his face pale and his eyes steadily +lowered.</p> + +<p>"It might be well for you to be more clear," he said, after a long +pause.</p> + +<p>"Did you go down Paradise Street just after sunset?"</p> + +<p>"I may have done so. I have several parishioners along the river bank."</p> + +<p>"Why the devil is he talking like this and looking like this?" Hartley +asked himself, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"I'm not a cross-examining counsel," he said, with some sharpness. "As +I told you before, Heath, it is only a very small matter."</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis Heath gripped the back of his chair and a slight flush +mounted to his face.</p> + +<p>"I resent your questions, Mr. Hartley. What I did or did not do on the +evening of July the twenty-ninth can in no way affect you. I entirely +refuse to be made to answer anything. You have no right to ask me, and I +have no intention of replying."</p> + +<p>Hartley put his hand out in dismay.</p> + +<p>"Really, Heath, your attitude is quite absurd. I have already told one +man to-day that he was going mad; are you dreaming, man? I only want you +to help me, and you talk as if I had accused you of something. There is +nothing criminal in being seen in Paradise Street after sundown."</p> + +<p>Mr. Heath stood holding by the back of his chair, looking over Hartley's +head, his dark eyes burning and his face set.</p> + +<p>"Come, then," said the police officer abruptly, "who did you see? Did +you, for instance, see the Christian boy, Absalom, Mhtoon Pah's +assistant?"</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis Heath made no answer.</p> + +<p>"Did you see him?"</p> + +<p>"I will not answer any further questions, but since you ask me, I did +see the boy."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Heath; that took some getting at. Now will you tell me if +you saw him again later: I am supposing that you went down the wharf and +came back, shall I say, in an hour's time. Did you see Absalom again?"</p> + +<p>The clergyman stared out of the window, and his pause was of such +intensely long duration that when he said the one word, "No," it fell +like the splash of a stone dropped into a deep well.</p> + +<p>Hartley looked at his sleeve-links for quite a long time.</p> + +<p>"Good night, Heath," he said, getting up, but the Rev. Francis Heath +made no reply.</p> + +<p>Hartley went back to his bungalow with something to think about. He had +always regarded Heath as a difficult and rather violently religious man. +They had never been friends, and he knew that they never could be +friends, but he respected the man even without liking him. Now he was +quite convinced that Heath, after some deliberation with his conscience, +had lied to him, and it made him angry. He had admitted, with the +greatest reluctance, that he had been through Paradise Street, and seen +the boy, and his declaration that he had not seen him again did not ring +with any real conviction. It made the whole question more interesting, +but it made it unpleasant. If things came to light that called the +inquiry into court, the Rev. Francis Heath might live to learn that the +law has a way of obliging men to speak. If Hartley had ever been sure of +anything in his life, he was sure that Heath knew something of Absalom, +and knew where he had gone in search of the gold lacquer bowl that was +desired by Mrs. Wilder. He made up his mind to see Mrs. Wilder and ask +her about the order for the bowl; but he hardly thought of her, his mind +was full of the mystery that attached itself to the question of the +Rector of St. Jude's parish, and his fierce and angry refusal to talk +reasonably.</p> + +<p>He threw open his windows and sat with the air playing on his face, and +his thoughts circled round and round the central idea. Absalom was +missing, and the Rev. Francis Heath had behaved in a way that led him to +believe that he knew a great deal more than he cared to say, and Hartley +brooded over the subject until he grew drowsy and went upstairs to bed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="III" id="III" />III</h2> + +<h3>INDICATES A STANDPOINT COMMONLY SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT THE PRINCIPLES OF +THE JESUIT FATHERS</h3> + + +<p>It was quite early the following morning when Hartley set out to take a +stroll down Paradise Street, and from there to the Chinese quarter, +where Leh Shin had a small shop in a colonnade running east and west. +The houses here were very different to the houses in Paradise Street. +The fronts were brightened with gilt, and green and red paint daubed the +entrances. Almost every third shop was a restaurant, and Hartley did not +care to think of the sort of food that was cooked and eaten within. +Immense lanterns, that turned into coloured moons by night, but they +were pale and dim by day, hung on the cross-beams inside the houses.</p> + +<p>Some half-way down the colonnade, and deep in the odorous gloom, Leh +Shin worked at nothing in particular, and sold devils as Mhtoon Pah sold +them, but without the same success. The door of his shop was closed, and +Hartley rapped upon it several times before he received an answer; then +a bolt was shot back, and Leh Shin's long neck stretched itself out +towards the officer. He was a thin, gaunt figure, lean as the Plague, +and his spare frame was clad in cheap black stuff that hung around him +like the garments of Death itself. Hartley drew back a step, for the +smell of <i>napi</i> and onions is unpleasant even to the strongest of white +men, and told Leh Shin to open the door wide as he wished to talk to +him. Leh Shin, with many owlish blinkings of his narrow eyes, asked +Hartley to come inside. The street was not a good place for talking, and +Hartley followed him into the shop.</p> + +<p>It was very dark within, and a dim light fell from high skylight +windows, giving the shop something of the suggestion of a well. Counters +blocked it, making entrance a matter of single file, and, in the deep +gloom at the back, two candles burned before a huge, ferocious-looking +figure depicted on rice-paper and stuck against the wall. It was hard to +believe that it was day outside, so heavy was the darkness, and it was a +few moments before Hartley's eyes became accustomed to the sudden +change. Second-hand clothes hung on pegs around the room, and all kinds +of articles were jumbled together regardless of their nature. On the +floor was a litter of silk and silver goods, boxes, broken portmanteaux, +ropes, baskets, and on the counter nearest the door a tiny silver cage +of beautiful workmanship inhabited by a tiny golden bird with ruby eyes.</p> + +<p>At the back of the shop and near the yellow circle of light thrown by +the candles, was a boy, naked to the waist, and immensely stout and +heavy. His long plait of hair was twisted round and round on his shaven +forehead, and he stood perfectly still, watching the officer out of +small pig eyes. He was chewing something slowly, turning it about and +about inside a small, narrow slit of a mouth, and his whole expression +was cunning and evil. Leh Shin followed Hartley's glance and saw the +boy, and the sight of him seemed to recall him to actual life, for he +spoke in words that sounded like stones knocking together and ordered +him out of the shop. The boy looked at him oddly for a moment; then +turned away, still munching, and lounged out of the room, stopping on +the threshold of a back entrance to take one more look at Hartley.</p> + +<p>As a rule Hartley was not affected by the peculiarities of the people he +dealt with, but Leh Shin's assistant impressed him unpleasantly. +Everything he did was offensive, and his whole suggestion loathsome. +Hartley was still thinking of him when he looked at Leh Shin, who stood +blinking before him, awaiting his words patiently.</p> + +<p>"Now, Leh Shin, I want to ask you a few questions. Do you sell lacquer +in this shop?"</p> + +<p>The Chinaman indicated that he sold anything that anyone would buy.</p> + +<p>"Do you happen to know that Mhtoon Pah was looking for a bowl of gold +lacquer, and that he sent his boy Absalom here to get it?"</p> + +<p>Leh Shin shook his head. He was a poor man, and he knew nothing. +Moreover, he knew nothing of July the twenty-ninth, he did not count +days. He had not seen the boy Absalom.</p> + +<p>"Let me advise you to be truthful, Leh Shin," said Hartley. "You may be +called upon to give an account of yourself on the evening and night of +July the twenty-ninth."</p> + +<p>Leh Shin looked stolidly at the mildewed clothes and tried to remember, +but he failed to be explicit, and the greasy, obese creature, still +chewing, was recalled to assist his master's memory. He spoke in a high +chirping voice, and looked at Hartley with angry eyes as he asserted +that his master had been ill upon the evening mentioned and that he had +closed the shop early, and that he himself had gone to the nautch house +to witness a dance that had lasted until morning.</p> + +<p>"You can prove what you say, I suppose," said Hartley, speaking to Leh +Shin, "and satisfy me that the boy Absalom was not here, and did not +come here?"</p> + +<p>Leh Shin, moved to sudden life, protested that he could prove it, that +he could call half Hong Kong Street to prove it.</p> + +<p>"I don't want Hong Kong Street. I want a creditable witness," said +Hartley, and he turned to go. "So far as I know, you are an honest +dealer, Leh Shin, and I am quite ready to believe, if you can help me, +that you were ill that night, but I must have a creditable witness."</p> + +<p>When he left the shop, Leh Shin looked at the fat, sodden boy, and the +boy returned his look for a moment, but neither of them spoke, and a few +minutes later the door was bolted from within, and they were once more +alone in the shadows, with the rags, the broken portmanteaux, the relics +of art, and the animal smell, and Hartley was out in the street. He was +pretty secure in the belief that Leh Shin had not seen the boy, and that +he knew nothing of the gold lacquer bowl, but he also believed that +Mhtoon Pah had been far too crafty to tell the Chinaman that anyone +particularly wanted such a treasure of art. Mhtoon Pah, or his emissary, +would have priced everything in the shop down to the most maggot-eaten +rag before he would have mentioned the subject of lacquer bowls.</p> + +<p>There was no mystery connected with the bowl, but there was something +sickening about Leh Shin's shop, and something utterly horrible about +his assistant. Hartley wished he had not seen him, he wished that he had +remained in ignorance of his personality. He thought of him in the +sweating darkness he had left, and as he thought he remembered Mhtoon +Pah's wild, extravagant fancies, and they grew real to his mind.</p> + +<p>It was next to impossible to discover what the truth was about Leh +Shin's illness on the night of July the 29th, and it really did not bear +very much upon the matter, unless there was no other clue to what had +become of the boy. Hartley returned to other matters and put the case on +one side for the moment. On his way back for luncheon he looked in at +Mhtoon Pah's shop. He had intended to pass, but the sight of the little +wooden man ushering him up the steps made him turn and stop and then go +in. Mhtoon Pah sat on his divan in the scented gloom, very different to +the interior of Leh Shin's shop, and when he saw Hartley he struggled to +his feet and demanded news of Absalom.</p> + +<p>"There is none yet," said Hartley, sitting down. "Now, Mhtoon Pah, are +you quite sure that it was Mr. Heath that you saw that evening?"</p> + +<p>"I saw him with these eyes. I saw him pass, and he was going quickly. I +read the walk of men and tell much by it. The Reverend was in a great +hurry. Twice did he pull out his watch as he came along the street, and +he pushed through the crowd like a rogue elephant going through a rice +crop. I have seen the Reverend walking before, and he walked slowly, he +spoke with the <i>Babus</i> from the Baptist mission, but this day," Mhtoon +Pah flung his hands to the roof, "shall I forget it? This day he walked +with speed, and when my little Absalom salaamed before him, he hardly +stopped, which is not the habit of the Reverend."</p> + +<p>"Did you see him come back? Mr. Heath, I mean?"</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah stood and looked curiously at Hartley, and remained in a +state of suspended animation for a second.</p> + +<p>"How could I see him come back?" he said, in a flat, expressionless +voice. "I went to the Pagoda, <i>Thakin</i>. I am building a shrine there, +and shall thereby acquire much merit. I did not see the Reverend return. +Besides, he might not have come by the way of Paradise Street."</p> + +<p>"He might not."</p> + +<p>"It is not known," said Mhtoon Pah, shaking his head dubiously, and then +rage seemed to flare up in him once more. "It is Leh Shin, the +Chinaman," he said, violently. "Let it be known to you, <i>Thakin</i>, they +eat strange meats, they hold strange revels. I have heard things—" he +lowered his voice. "I have been told of how they slay."</p> + +<p>"Then keep the information to yourself, unless you can prove it," said +Hartley, firmly. "I want to hear nothing about it." He got up and looked +around the shop. "I suppose you haven't got the lacquer bowl since?"</p> + +<p>"No, <i>Thakin</i>, I have not got it, neither have I seen Leh Shin, an evil +man. The Lady Sahib will have to wait; neither has she been here since, +nor asked for the bowl."</p> + +<p>Hartley walked down the steps; he was troubled by the thought, and the +more he tried to work out some definite theory that left Mr. Heath +outside the ring that he proposed to draw around his subject, the more +he appeared on the horizon of his mind, always walking quickly and +looking at his watch.</p> + +<p>Through lunch he went over the facts and faced the Heath question +squarely, considering that if Heath knew that the boy was in trouble, +and had connived at his escape, he would be muzzled, but there was +nothing to show that Absalom had ever broken the law. His employer, +Mhtoon Pah, was in despair at his disappearance, his record was +blameless, and he had been entrusted with the deal in lacquer to be +carried out the following morning.</p> + +<p>Looking for Absalom was like tracing a shadow that has passed along a +street on soundless feet, and Hartley felt an eager determination seize +him to catch up with this flying wraith.</p> + +<p>Still with the same idea in his mind, he drove along the principal +roads in his buggy, directing his way towards the bungalow where the +Rector of St. Jude's lived with Atkins, the Sapper. The house was draped +in climbing and trailing creepers, and the grass grew into the red drive +that curved in a half-circle from one rickety gate to another. He came +up quietly on the soft, wet clay, and looked up at the house before he +called for the bearer, and as he looked up he saw a face disappear +quickly from behind a window. After a few minutes the boy came running +down a flight of steps from the back, and hurried in to get a tray, +which he held out for the customary card.</p> + +<p>"Take that away," said Hartley, "and tell the Padré Sahib that I must +see him."</p> + +<p>"The Padré Sahib is out, Sahib."</p> + +<p>The boy still held the tray like a collecting-plate.</p> + +<p>"Out," said Hartley, "nonsense. Go and tell your master that my business +is important."</p> + +<p>After a moment the boy returned again, the tray still in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Gone out, Sahib," he said, resolutely, and without waiting for any more +Hartley turned the pony's head and drove out slowly.</p> + +<p>Twice in two days Heath had lied, to his certain knowledge, and as he +glanced back at the bungalow, a curtain in an upper window moved +slightly as though it had been dropped in haste.</p> + +<p>Just as he turned into the road he came face to face with Atkins, +Heath's bungalow companion, and he pulled up short.</p> + +<p>"I've been trying to call on the Padré," he said, carelessly, "but he +was out."</p> + +<p>"Out," said Atkins, in a tone of surprise. "Why, that is odd. He told me +he was due at a meeting at half-past five, and that he wasn't going out +until then. I suppose he changed his mind."</p> + +<p>"It looks like it," said Hartley, dryly.</p> + +<p>"He hasn't been well these last few days," went on Atkins, quickly, +"said he felt the weather, and he certainly seems ill. I don't believe +the poor devil sleeps at all. Whenever I wake, I can see his light in +the passage."</p> + +<p>"That is bad," Hartley's voice grew sympathetic. "Has he been long like +this?"</p> + +<p>"Not long," said Atkins, who was constitutionally accurate. "I think it +began about the night after the thunder-storm, but I can't say for +certain."</p> + +<p>"Well, I won't keep you." Hartley touched the pony's quarters with his +whip. "I'm sorry I missed Heath, as I wanted to see him about something +rather important."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell him," said Atkins, cheerfully, "and probably he'll look you +up at your own house."</p> + +<p>"Will he, I wonder?" thought the police officer, and he set to work upon +the treadmill of his thoughts again.</p> + +<p>There is nothing in the world so tantalizing, and so hard to bear, as +the conviction that knowledge is just within reach and that it is +deliberately withheld. Heath stood between him and elucidation, and the +more firmly the clergyman held his ground, and the more definitely he +blocked the path, the more sure Hartley became that he did so of set +purpose.</p> + +<p>"But <i>why</i>, <i>why?</i>" he asked himself, as he drove through the Cantonment +towards Mrs. Wilder's bungalow.</p> + +<p>Atkins got off his bicycle and handed it over to his boy as he arrived +at the dreary entrance.</p> + +<p>"The Padré Sahib is out?" he said, in his brisk, matter-of-fact tones.</p> + +<p>"The Padré Sahib is upstairs," said the boy, with an immovable face; and +Atkins went up quickly.</p> + +<p>"Hallo, Heath, I met Hartley just now, and he said you were out."</p> + +<p>Heath looked up from a sheet of paper laid out on the writing-table +before him.</p> + +<p>"I did not feel up to seeing Hartley," he said, a little stiffly. "It is +not a convenient hour for callers, so I availed myself of an excuse."</p> + +<p>"He told me to tell you that it was rather a pressing matter that +brought him here, and I said that I would give you his message, and that +you would probably go round to see him."</p> + +<p>"You said that, Atkins?"</p> + +<p>His face was so drawn and unnatural that Atkins looked at him in +surprise.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I was right?"</p> + +<p>"If Hartley wants to see me," said Heath, in a loud, angry voice, "or if +he wants to come bullying and blustering, he must write and make an +appointment. I have every right to protect myself from a man who asks +personal and most impertinent questions."</p> + +<p>"Hartley, impertinent?" Atkins' eyes grew round.</p> + +<p>"When I say impertinent, I mean not pertinent, or bearing upon any +subject that I intend to discuss with him."</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis Heath got up and walked towards the window, turning his +back upon the room.</p> + +<p>"I don't mix in social politics," said Atkins, soothingly. "But at the +same time, I can't understand you, Heath. What the devil does Hartley +want to know?"</p> + +<p>The clergyman caught at the curtain and gripped it as he had gripped the +back of his chair at the Club.</p> + +<p>"Never ask me that again, Atkins," he said, in a low, hoarse voice. +"Never speak to me about this again."</p> + +<p>Atkins retreated quickly from the room; there was something in the +manner of the Rev. Francis Heath that he did not like, and he registered +a mental vow to let the subject drop, so far as he, a lieutenant in His +Majesty's Royal Engineers, was concerned, and never to allude to it, +either for "fear or favour," again.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV" />IV</h2> + +<h3>INTRODUCES THE READER TO MRS. WILDER IN A SECRETIVE MOOD</h3> + + +<p>Draycott Wilder was a man who hoarded his passions and concentrated them +upon a very few objects. His work came first, and his intense ambition, +and after his work, his wife. She was the right sort of wife for a man +who put worldly success first, and through the years of their marriage +had helped him a great deal more than he ever admitted. Clarice Wilder +was beautiful, and had a surface cleverness combined with a natural gift +of tact that made her an admirable hostess. She could talk to anybody +and send them away pleased and satisfied with themselves, and she had +made the best of Draycott for a good number of years. She had married +him when marriage seemed a big thing and a wonderful thing, and her +country home in Devonshire a small, breathless place where nothing ever +happened, and where life was one long Sunday at Home, and Draycott, back +from the East, had appeared as interesting as a white Othello.</p> + +<p>For a time she received all she needed out of life, and she threw +herself into her husband's promotion-hunger; understanding it, because +she, too, wanted to reign, and it gave her an inexplicable feeling of +respect for him, for Clarice knew that had she been born a man, she, +too, would have worked and schemed and pushed herself out into the front +of the ranks. She combined with him as only an ambitious woman can +combine, and she supplied all he lacked. It filled her mind, and she +never awoke the jealousy that lay like a sleeping python in the heart of +Draycott Wilder. It was when they were in India that Clarice, for the +first time, lost her grip and allowed her senses to get the better of +her common sense, and she became for a brief time a woman with a very +troublesome heart. Hector Copplestone, a young man newly come to the +Indian Civil Service, was sent to their Punjaub station. He made Mrs. +Wilder realize her own charm, he made her terribly conscious that she +was older than him, he made her anxious and distracted and madly, +idiotically in love with him. She forgot that there were other things in +life, she put aside ambition for a stronger temptation, and she did not +care what Draycott thought or supposed.</p> + +<p>No one ever knew what happened, but everyone guessed that Wilder had +made trouble. They left India under the same cloud of silence, and they +reappeared in Mangadone to outside eyes the same couple who had pulled +together for successful years of marriage; and if some whisper, for +whispers carry far in the East, came after them, no one regarded it, and +the Copplestone incident was considered permanently closed. Draycott +Wilder was the same silent man who was the despair of his dinner +partners, and Clarice had her old brilliancy and her old way of making +men pleased with themselves; and though some people, chiefly young +girls, described her as "hard," she represented a centre of attraction, +and her one mad year was a thing of the past.</p> + +<p>Among the men who went to the terraced house in its huge gardens, she +always particularly welcomed Hartley, the Head of the Police. He never +demanded effort, and he had a good nature and a flow of small talk. +Nearly every woman liked Hartley, though very few of them could have +said why. He had fair, fluffy hair and a pink face; he was just weak +enough to be easily influenced, and he fell platonically in love with +every new woman he met without being in the least faithless to the +others. Mrs. Wilder had a corner in her heart for him, and he, in +return, looked upon Mrs. Wilder as a brilliant and lovely woman very +much too good for Draycott. He did not know that he took his ideas from +her whenever she wished him to do so; Mrs. Wilder, like a clever +conjurer, palmed her ideas like cards, and upheld the principle of free +will while she did so, and if she had desired to impress Hartley with +fifty-two new notions he would have left her positive in his own mind +that they were his own.</p> + +<p>Thus, Clarice Wilder may be classed as that melodramatic type that goes +about labelled "dangerous," only she had the wit to take off the label +and to advertise herself under the guise of a harmless soothing mixture.</p> + +<p>The bungalow in which the Wilders lived was an immense place, standing +over a terraced garden beautifully planted with flowers. Steps, covered +with white marble, led from terrace to terrace, and down to a +jade-green lake where water-lilies blossomed and pink lotus flowers +floated. Dark green trees plumed with shaded purple flowers accentuated +the massed yellow of the golden laburnums. The topmost flight of steps +led up to the house, and was flanked on either side with variegated +laurel growing in sea-green pots, and the red avenue, that took its +lengthy way from the main road, curved into a wide sweep outside the +flower-hung veranda.</p> + +<p>Hartley arrived at the house just as Mrs. Wilder was having tea alone in +the big drawing-room, and she smiled up at him with her curious eyes, +that were the colour of granite. Without exactly knowing what her age +was, Hartley felt, somehow, that she looked younger than she was, and +that she did not do so without some aid from "boxes," but he liked her +none the less for that, and possibly admired her more. He sat down and +asked her how she was, and, as he looked at her, he wondered to think +that she had ever fainted. Clearly, she was the last woman on earth who +could be accused of Victorian ways, and to see her in her white lace +dress, dark, distinguished, and perfectly mistress of her emotions, was +to be bewildered at the memory. She treated the question with scant +ceremony, and remarked upon the fact that the night had been hot, and +that everyone had felt it.</p> + +<p>"I've got an excellent reason for remembering the date," said Hartley +reflectively. "By the way, wasn't Absalom, old Mhtoon Pah's assistant, +once a dressing-boy or something in your establishment?"</p> + +<p>"He was, and then he went sick, and took to this other kind of work."</p> + +<p>"He was quite honest, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly honest," said Mrs. Wilder, with a slight lift of her +eyebrows, "and a nice little boy. I hope that question doesn't mean that +you are professionally interested in his past?" she laughed carelessly. +"I am quite prepared to stand up for Absalom; he was the soul of +integrity."</p> + +<p>Hartley put down his cup on the table.</p> + +<p>"The boy has disappeared," he said, talking with interest, for the +subject filled his mind.</p> + +<p>"But when, and how? I saw him quite lately."</p> + +<p>Hartley's round, China-blue eyes fixed upon her.</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me when you saw him?"</p> + +<p>"One night—evening, I should say—I was out riding and I passed him +going towards the wharf, not towards the wharf exactly, but to the +houses that lie out by the end of the tram lines."</p> + +<p>"What evening? I wish you could remember for me."</p> + +<p>"It was the night of my own dinner-party."</p> + +<p>"Then that was July the twenty-ninth?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder looked at him, and bit her lip.</p> + +<p>"Was it the twenty-ninth?" Hartley repeated the question.</p> + +<p>"Probably it was, if you say so. I told you just now that I had Burma +head. But where has Absalom gone to?"</p> + +<p>Hartley took up his cup again and stirred the spoon round and round.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me for pelting you with questions, but did you see Mr. Heath +that evening?"</p> + +<p>"Now, what <i>are</i> you trying to get out of me, Mr. Hartley? Did Mr. Heath +tell you that he had seen me?"</p> + +<p>Hartley stared at his feet.</p> + +<p>"Heath has got Burma head, too, and won't tell me anything. It might +help his memory if you were able to say whether you had seen him or not +that evening."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder's fine eyes glittered into a smile that was not exactly +mirthful or pleasant.</p> + +<p>"I don't see that I can possibly say one way or another. I often do +. . . I often do see him going about the native quarter when I ride +through, but I do not write it down in my book, so it is quite +impossible for me to say."</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, you saw Absalom?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I saw the boy. What a persistent man you are, and you haven't +told me a word yourself."</p> + +<p>"Absalom was to have got a gold lacquer bowl that you ordered from +Mhtoon Pah?"</p> + +<p>"Quite correct," laughed Mrs. Wilder with more of her usual manner. +"That old Barabbas has never sent it to me yet, either. I ordered it a +month ago. I love lacquer because it looks like nothing else, and +particularly gold lacquer."</p> + +<p>"Well, all I can tell you is that Absalom had an order from Mhtoon Pah +to get the bowl the next morning, if it was to be got, and he went away +as usual the night of the twenty-ninth, and never appeared again. Heath +saw him, and you saw him, and that is pretty nearly all the evidence I +can collect."</p> + +<p>"Evidence?" Mrs. Wilder's voice had a piercing note in it.</p> + +<p>"Yes, evidence. You see the only way to trace a man is to find out +exactly who saw him last, and where."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I see. You find out what everyone was doing, and where they were, +and you piece the bits in. It's like a jig-saw, and how very interesting +it must be."</p> + +<p>Hartley laughed.</p> + +<p>"Not what the other people were doing exactly, but where they were. It +is something to know that you saw the boy, but I wish you could remember +if you saw Heath."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder got up and walked to the window.</p> + +<p>"I do hope he will be found. Did he take my lacquer bowl with him?"</p> + +<p>"He had not got it," said Hartley, in his steady, matter-of-fact voice.</p> + +<p>"Are you <i>worried</i> about it?" She turned and looked across the room. +"Why should you be? If Absalom has chosen to leave, I really don't see +why he shouldn't be allowed to go in peace."</p> + +<p>"I don't know that he did <i>choose</i> to leave; that is just the point."</p> + +<p>He was longing to ask her another question about Heath, and yet he did +not like to press her.</p> + +<p>"Here are some callers," she remarked, and then, with a short laugh, "I +wonder if they were out and about that evening. If you go on like this, +Mr. Hartley, you will make yourself the most popular man in Mangadone. +Take my advice and let Absalom come back in his own way. Perhaps he is +looking for my bowl." She turned her head and glanced at some cards that +the bearer had brought in on a tray. "Show the ladies in, Gulab."</p> + +<p>In a few minutes the room was full of voices and laughter, and Mrs. +Wilder became unconscious of Hartley. She remained so unconscious of him +that he felt uncomfortable and began to wonder if he had offended her in +any way. He looked at her from time to time, and when he got up to go +she gave him her hand as though she was only just sure that he was +really there.</p> + +<p>The disappearance of Absalom was taking strange shapes in his mind, and +he had so far come to the conclusion that Heath knew something about +Absalom, and his visit to Mrs. Wilder added the puzzling fact to his +mental arithmetic that Mrs. Wilder knew something about Heath. It was +one thing to corner Heath, but Heath standing behind Mrs. Wilder's +protection, became formidable.</p> + +<p>Yet it was not in the Cantonment that Hartley expected to find any clue +to the vanished Absalom: it was down in the native quarter. Down there +where the Chinese eating-houses were beginning to fill, and where the +night life was only just awaking from its slumber of the day, was where +Absalom, the Christian boy, had last been seen, and it was there, if +anywhere, that he must be searched for and found.</p> + +<p>What possible connection could there be between an upright, Godly man +who went his austere way along the high, cold path of duty, and a woman +whose husband was madly grasping at the biggest prize of his profession? +What link could bind life with life, when lives were divided by such +yawning gulfs of space and class and race? To connect Mrs. Wilder with +Heath was almost as mad a piece of folly as to connect Absalom with the +clergyman, and yet, Hartley argued, he had not set out to do it. +Something that had not begun with any act or question of his had brought +about the junction of the ideas, and he felt like a man in a dark room +trying to make his way to the window, and meeting with unrecognizable +obstacles.</p> + +<p>The small tinkle of the church bell attracted his attention, and, +following a sudden whim, he went into the tin building and sat down near +the door. Mr. Heath did not look down the sparsely-filled church as he +read the evening service, and he prayed with an almost violent fervour. +Certainly to-night the Rev. Francis Heath was praying as though he was +alone, and the odd imploring misery of his voice struck Hartley.—"To +perceive and know the things that we ought to do, and to have grace and +power faithfully to fulfil the same."</p> + +<p>Heath's voice had broken into a kind of sob, the sound that tells of +strain and hysteria, but what was there in Mangadone to make a +respectable parson strained and hysterical?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="V" id="V" />V</h2> + +<h3>CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, FINDS THAT HIS MEMORY IS NOT TO BE TRUSTED</h3> + + +<p>Just as Draycott Wilder stood high in the eyes of the Powers that govern +the Civil Service of India, so, too, in his own way, was Craven Joicey, +the Banker, a man with a solid reputation. If you build a reputation +solidly for the first half of a lifetime, it will last the latter half +without much attention or care, and, contrariwise, a bad beginning is +frequently stronger than any reformation, and stronger than integrity +that comes too late.</p> + +<p>Joicey had begun well, and had, as the saying goes, "made his way." He +was a large, heavy man, representative in figure and slow and careful of +speech. He kept the secrets of his bank, and he kept his own secrets, if +he had any, and was a walking tomb for confidences not known as +"tender." No one would have attempted to tell him their affairs of the +heart, but almost anyone with money to invest would go direct to Craven +Joicey. He had no wife, no child, and, as far as anyone knew, no kith or +kin, and he had no intimate friends. He had one of those strange, shut +faces; a mouth that told nothing, eyes that were nearly as +expressionless as the eyes of Mhtoon Pah, and he had no restless +movements. A plethoric man, Joicey, a man who got up and sat down +heavily, a man who looked at his business and not beyond it, and never +troubled Society. He probably knew that Heath lived in Mangadone, that +was if Heath banked with him; otherwise, he might easily not have known +it.</p> + +<p>He knew of the Wilders. He knew what Draycott Wilder owned, and he knew +that Mrs. Wilder had a very small allowance of her own, paid quarterly +through a Devonshire bank, but more than this he neither knew nor wished +to know of them, and he never went to their house.</p> + +<p>Joicey had not "worn well"; there was no denying that sweating years of +Burmese rains and hot weathers had made him prematurely old. His thick +hair was patched with white, and his face was flabby and yellow. Craven +Joicey was one of those men, who, if he had died suddenly, would have +made people remember that they always thought him unhealthy-looking. +There was nothing, romantic, exciting, or interesting about him; his +mind was a huge pass-book, and his brain a network of facts and figures. +He played no games, went only seldom to the Club, and knew no one in the +place better than he knew Hartley, which was little, but at any rate +Hartley dined once or twice in the year with him, and he occasionally +dined in return with the Head of the Police.</p> + +<p>Hartley was so occupied with his trouble of mind on the subject of +Absalom that he very nearly forgot that he had invited Joicey to dinner +the following Saturday. The police had discovered nothing whatever, and +he had received another visit at his house from the curio dealer. Mhtoon +Pah, in a condition bordering upon frenzy, stated that when he had stood +on his steps in the morning, intending to go to the Pagoda to offer alms +to the priests, he had noticed his wooden effigy and gone down to look +closer at him. The yellow man pointed as was his wont, but over the +pointing hand lay a rag soaked in blood.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah, immense and splendid in his silk, had given forth wild +noises as he produced the rag, noises that reminded Hartley irresistibly +of the trumpeting of elephants, but they were terrible to hear.</p> + +<p>"It is enough," he said, his face quivering. "This is the work of the +Chinamen. They slit his veins, <i>Thakin</i>, they are doing it slowly. The +<i>Thakin</i> can understand that Absalom still lives, his blood is fresh and +red, it is not dead blood that runs like treacle, it is living blood +that spouts out hot, and that steams and smokes. <i>Thakin</i>, <i>Thakin</i>, I +cry for vengeance."</p> + +<p>"I'm doing all I can, Mhtoon Pah," said Hartley, desperately. "I can't +go and arrest Leh Shin on suspicion, because there isn't a vestige of +suspicion attached to the man."</p> + +<p>"Not after this?" Mhtoon Pah pointed to the rag that lay loathsomely on +the table.</p> + +<p>"That may be goat's blood, or dog's blood; we can't say it is +Absalom's," objected Hartley. "Leave the horrid thing there, Mhtoon Pah, +and I will have it analysed later on."</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah gasped and beat his breast.</p> + +<p>"He was a good boy, he attended the Mission with regularity, and they +are doing terrible things. They wind wires around the finger-nails and +the toe-nails until they turn black and drop off. You do not know these +Chinamen, <i>Thakin</i>, as I know them. Have you seen the assistant of Leh +Shin?"</p> + +<p>Hartley wished that he had not; he frequently wished that he had never +seen that man.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah bent near the Head of the Police and spoke in low, sibilant +tones:</p> + +<p>"He is a butcher's mate, <i>Thakin</i>. He is a slayer of flesh. He kills in +the shambles. Oh, it is true. I saw him slit the mouth of a dog with his +knife for his own mirth—"</p> + +<p>"Swine!" said Hartley.</p> + +<p>"Why he left there and went to live with Leh Shin is unknown. He has +secrets. He knows the best mixtures of opium, he knows—"</p> + +<p>"I don't want to hear what he knows."</p> + +<p>"He knows where Absalom is."</p> + +<p>"You only think that," said Hartley, roughly. "It is a dangerous thing +to make these assertions. It is only your idea, Mhtoon Pah."</p> + +<p>The Burman groaned aloud and held the rag between his hands.</p> + +<p>"Put that down," said Hartley. Mhtoon Pah's very agony of desire to find +the boy was almost disgusting, and he turned away from the sight. "There +is no use your staying here, and no use your coming, unless there is +more of this devil's work," he pointed to the blood-stained cloth. +"Leave the thing here, and I will see what the doctors have to say +about it."</p> + +<p>"<i>Thakin</i>, <i>Thakin</i>," said Mhtoon Pah. "The time grows late. My night's +rest is taken from me, and the Chinaman, Leh Shin, walks the roads. I +saw him from my place at sunset. I saw him go by like a cat that prowls +when night falls and it grows dark. He passed by my wooden image of a +dancing man, and he touched him as he passed—" he gave a despairing +gesture with his heavy hands. "Oh, Absalom, Absalom, my grief is heavy!"</p> + +<p>"He will be either found or accounted for," said Hartley, with a +decision and firmness he was far from feeling, and Mhtoon Pah, with bent +head, went away out of the room.</p> + +<p>The rain that had held off all day began to come down in pitiless +torrents, blown in by the wind, and fighting against bolts and bars. It +ruffled the muddy waters of the river, ran along the kennels of the +Chinese quarter, drove the inhabitants of Paradise Street indoors and +soused down over the Cantonment gardens, and battered on the travelling +carriage of Craven Joicey, that came along the road, a waterproof over +the pony's back and another covering the <i>syce</i>, and Joicey sat inside +the small green box, holding the window-strings under his heavy arms.</p> + +<p>Joicey was not a cheerful companion, and in his present mood Fitzgibbon, +the Barrister, would have suited Hartley better; but he had asked +Joicey, and Joicey was on his way, thinking about Bank business in all +probability, thinking of money lent out at interest, thinking of careful +ledgers and neat rows of figures, and certainly not in the least likely +to be thinking of the Chinese quarter, or of a person of so small +account, financially, as Absalom, the Christian native. The river or the +ships or the back lanes of Mangadone might swallow a thousand Absaloms +and make no difference to the Bank, and therefore none to Craven Joicey.</p> + +<p>Absalom, that shadow of the night, had gone to heaven or hell, and left +no bills behind, and it is by bills that some men's memories are +recorded. He was only another grain of red dust blown about by the wind +of Fate, and though the Rector of St. Jude's might consider that, having +been marked by the sign of the Cross, he was in some way different from +the rest, neither Craven Joicey nor Clarice Wilder could be expected to +take very much heed of the fact.</p> + +<p>All stories of disappearance, from time immemorial, have held interest, +and everyone has known of some case which has never been explained or +accounted for. Someone who got into a cab and never appeared again, and +left the impression that he had driven over the edge of the world into +space, for the cab, the cab driver, the horse, the vehicle and the +passenger inside were lost from that moment; someone who went for a +bicycle ride in England, and was found later selling old clothes in +Chicago; someone who went away by train, someone who went away by boat; +the world is full of instances, and they are always tinged with the +greatest mystery of all mysteries, because they foreshadow the ultimate +mystery that awaits the soul of man. For this universal reason, it +might be concluded that Joicey might listen with attention to the story +of Absalom, though his lowly station and his total lack of the most +necessary form of balance, very naturally made him merely a black cypher +of no special account in the eyes of a man of figures.</p> + +<p>Certainly Craven Joicey had not worn well. Hartley noticed it as he +stood taking off his scarf in the hall, and he noticed it again as the +Banker sat sipping a sherry and bitters under the strong light of the +electric lamp. He looked fagged and tired, and though he cheered up a +little as dinner went through, he relapsed into a heavy, silent mood +again, as if he was dragged at by thoughts that had power over him.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing the matter with you, is there, Joicey?" asked his +host. "You don't seem to be up to the mark."</p> + +<p>"What mark?" said Joicey, with a laugh. "Up to your mark, Hartley, or my +own mark, or someone else's mark? The average mark in Mangadone is low +water. There have been a lot of defaulters this year, and even admitting +that the place is rich, there is a good deal more insolvency about than +I like or than the directors care for. It keeps me grinding and +grinding, and wears the nerves."</p> + +<p>"By George," said Hartley, "I should have said that my own job was about +the most nerve-tattering of any. I had an interview with Mhtoon Pah this +afternoon that shook me up a bit."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I heard that his boy has disappeared."</p> + +<p>The door between the dining-and the drawing-room was thrown open, and +dinner announced as Joicey spoke, and the conversation took another +turn. Many things were bothering Joicey—the financial year generally, a +big commercial failure, the outlook for the rice crop—and as the meal +wore on he grew more dreary, and a pessimism that is part of some men's +minds tinged everything he touched.</p> + +<p>"Did Rydal's disappearance affect you at all, personally?" Hartley +asked, with some show of interest.</p> + +<p>"Not personally, but it cost the Bank close upon a quarter of a lakh." +Joicey drummed his square-topped fingers on the table. "I can't imagine +how he managed to get away."</p> + +<p>Hartley frowned.</p> + +<p>"I had all the landing-stages carefully watched, and the plague police +warned. He must have gone before the warrant was out, that is, if he has +ever left the country at all."</p> + +<p>Joicey shrugged his heavy shoulders.</p> + +<p>"In any case, the man's not much use to us, and the money has gone. I'm +not altogether sorry he got away." His eyes grew full of brooding +shadows and he sat silent, still tapping the cloth with his fingers.</p> + +<p>"It's an odd coincidence," said Hartley, and his face grew keen again. +"Mhtoon Pah's boy, Absalom, disappeared that same night. I wish you +could tell me, Joicey, if you saw Heath that evening when you went down +Paradise Street. It was the same evening that the Bank laid their +information against Rydal, the twenty-ninth."</p> + +<p>Joicey had just poured himself out a glass of port, and was raising it +to his lips as Hartley spoke, and the hand that held the glass jerked +slightly, splashing a little of the wine on to the front of his white +shirt. Joicey did not set the glass back on to the table, he held it +between him and the light, and eyed it, or, rather, it should be said +that he watched his own hand, and when he saw that it was quite steady +he set down the wine untasted.</p> + +<p>"Paradise Street? I never go down there. I wasn't in Mangadone that +night," his face was dead white with a sick, leprous whiteness. "If +Heath said he saw me, Heath was wrong."</p> + +<p>"Heath didn't say so," said Hartley. "It was the policeman on duty at +the corner who said that he had seen you."</p> + +<p>"I tell you I wasn't in the place," said Joicey again.</p> + +<p>Hartley coughed awkwardly.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you weren't there, you weren't there," he said, pacifically.</p> + +<p>"And Heath, what did Heath say?"</p> + +<p>"I told you he said nothing, except that he had seen Absalom. I can't +understand this business, Joicey; directly I ask the smallest question +about that infernal night of July the twenty-ninth I am always met in +just the same way."</p> + +<p>"I know nothing about it," said Joicey, shortly. "I wasn't here and I +don't know what Heath was doing, so there's no use asking me questions +about him."</p> + +<p>The Banker relapsed into his former dull apathy, and leaned back in his +chair.</p> + +<p>"I've had insomnia lately," he said, after a perceptible pause. "It +plays the deuce with one's nerves. I believe I need a change. This +cursed country gets into one's bones if one stays out too long. I've +forgotten what England looks like and I've got over the desire to go +back there, and so I rot through the rains and the steam and the tepid +cold weather, and it isn't doing me any good at all."</p> + +<p>They walked into the drawing-room, Hartley with his hand on Joicey's +shoulder. The Banker sat for a little time making a visible effort to +talk easily, but long before his usual hour for leaving he pulled out +his watch and looked at it.</p> + +<p>"It may seem rude to clear off so soon, but I'm tired, Hartley, and +shall be much obliged if I may shout for my carriage."</p> + +<p>He looked tired enough to make any excuse of exhaustion or ill-health +quite a valid one, and Hartley was concerned for his friend.</p> + +<p>"Don't overdo it, Joicey," he said.</p> + +<p>"Overdo what?"</p> + +<p>Joicey got up with the heavy lift of an old, weary man, and yet there +was not two years between him and Hartley.</p> + +<p>"The insomnia," said Hartley.</p> + +<p>"Good night," replied Joicey shortly, and closed the carriage-door +behind him.</p> + +<p>He drove along the dark roads, his arms in the window-straps and his +head bent forward. The head of the Mangadone Banking Firm was suffering, +if not from insomnia, from something that was heavier than the heaviest +night of sleeplessness, and something that was darker than the dark +road, and something that was deep as the brown waters that carried +outgoing craft to sea.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI" />VI</h2> + +<h3>TELLS HOW ATKINS EXPLAINS FACTS BY PEOPLE AND NOT PEOPLE BY FACTS, AND +HOW HARTLEY, HEAD OF THE POLICE, SMELLS THE SCENT OF APPLE ORCHARDS +GROWING IN A FOOL'S PARADISE</h3> + + +<p>Social life went its way in Mangadone much as it had before the 29th of +July, but Hartley was not allowed to rest and feel comfortable and easy +for very long. Mhtoon Pah waylaid him in the dark when he was riding +home from the Club, and waited for him for hours in his bungalow. Like +his own shadow, Mhtoon Pah followed him and dogged his comings and +goings, always with the same imploring tale, but never with any further +evidence. Leh Shin was officially watched, and Leh Shin's assistant was +also under the paternal eye of authority, but all that authority could +discover about him was that he led a gay life, gambled and drugged +himself, hung about evil houses, and had been seen loitering in the +vicinity of the curio shop; but, as Paradise Street was an open +thoroughfare, he had as much right to be there as any leprous beggar.</p> + +<p>Hartley's peace of mind was soon shattered again, this time by a new +element that Hartley had not thought of, and so he was caught in another +net without any previous warning.</p> + +<p>Atkins, the rector of St. Jude's bungalow companion, was a dry little +man, adhering to simple facts, and neither a sensationalist nor an +alarmist; therefore his words had weight. He was a small man, always +dressed in clothes a little too small, with his whole mind given up to +the subject of his profession; besides which he was religious, a +non-smoker, a teetotaller, and particular upon these points.</p> + +<p>Being but little in the habit of going into Mangadone society, he seldom +met Hartley except at the Club, and it was there that he ran him into a +corner and asked for a word or two in private. Hartley took him out into +the dim green space where basket chairs were set at intervals, and +drawing two well away from the others, sat down to listen.</p> + +<p>Sweet scents were wafted up on the evening air, and drowsy, dark clouds +followed the moonlike heavy wisps of black cotton-wool, drowning the +light from time to time and then clearing off again; and all over the +grass, glimmering groups of men in white clothes and women in trailing +skirts filled the air with an indistinct murmur of sound.</p> + +<p>"It is understood at the outset," began Atkins, clearing his throat with +a crowing sound, "that what I have to say is said strictly in a private +and confidential sense. I only say it because I am driven to do so."</p> + +<p>Hartley's basket chair squeaked as he moved, but he said nothing, and +Atkins dropped his voice into an intimate tone and went on:</p> + +<p>"You came to see Heath one day lately, and I told you he was ill. Well, +so he was, but there are illnesses of the mind as well as of the body, +and Heath was mind-sick. I am a light sleeper, Hartley. I wake at a +sound, and twice lately I have been awakened by sounds."</p> + +<p>"The <i>Durwan</i>," suggested Hartley.</p> + +<p>"Not the <i>Durwan</i>. If it had been, I would not have spoken to you about +it. Heath has been visited towards morning by a man, and it was the +sound of voices that awoke me. It is no business of mine to pry or to +talk, and I would say nothing if it were not that I admire and respect +Heath, and I believe that he is in some horrible difficulty, out of +which he either will not, or cannot, extricate himself."</p> + +<p>"Who was the man?"</p> + +<p>Atkins ignored the question.</p> + +<p>"I admit that I listened, but I overheard almost nothing, except just +the confused sounds of talking in low voices, but I heard Heath say, 'I +will not endure it, I am bearing too much already.' I think he spoke +more to himself than to the man in his room, but it was a ghastly thing +to hear, as he said it."</p> + +<p>"Go on," said Hartley. "Tell me exactly what happened."</p> + +<p>"I heard the door on to the back veranda open, and I heard the sound of +feet go along it—bare feet, mind you, Hartley—and then I went to +sleep. That was a week ago."</p> + +<p>"And something of the same nature has occurred since?"</p> + +<p>Atkins dried his hands with his handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"I said something to Heath at breakfast about having had a bad night, +and he got up at once and left the table. After that nothing happened +until last night. I had been out all day, and came home dog-tired. I +turned in early and left Heath reading a theological book in the +veranda. I said, I remember, 'I'm absolutely beat, Padré; I have had +enough to-day to give me nine or ten hours without stirring,' and he +looked up and said, 'Don't complain of that, Atkins; there are worse +things than sound sleep.' It struck me then that he hadn't known what it +was for weeks, he looked so gaunt and thin, and I thought again of that +other night that we had neither of us spoken about."</p> + +<p>"Heath never explained anything?"</p> + +<p>"No, I never asked him to."</p> + +<p>"What happened then?" Hartley's voice was hardly above a whisper, and he +leaned close to Atkins to listen.</p> + +<p>"I slept for hours, fairly hogged it until it must have been two or +three in the morning, judging by the light, and then I awoke suddenly, +the way one wakes when there is some noise that is different to usual +noises, and after a moment or two I heard the sound of voices, and I got +out of bed and went very quietly into the veranda. Heath's lamp was +burning, his room is at the far end from mine, and I stood there, +shivering like a leaf out of sheer jumps. I had a regular 'night attack' +feeling over me. I heard a chair pushed back, and I heard Heath say in a +low voice 'If you come here again, or if you dog me again, I'll hand you +over to the police,' and the man laughed. I can't describe his laugh; +it was the most damnable thing I ever listened to, and I thought of +running in, but something stopped me, God knows why. 'Take your pay,' +said Heath; I heard him say it, and then I heard the door open again, +and the same sound of feet." He shivered. "They stopped outside my room, +and I caught the outline of a head, a huge head and enormous, heavy +shoulders, and then he was gone."</p> + +<p>"Why the devil didn't you raise the alarm?" Hartley's voice was angry. +"You've got a policeman on the road. Why didn't you shout?"</p> + +<p>"Because I was thinking of Heath," said Atkins a little stiffly. "He is +the man we have both got to think about. Some devil of a native is +blackmailing him, and Heath is one of the best and straightest men I +know. Not one item of all this mystery goes against him in my mind, but +what I want you to do, is to have the bungalow watched."</p> + +<p>"I shall certainly do that," said Hartley with decision. "And as for +your opinion of Heath—well, it strikes me as curious that a man of good +character should be a mark for blackmail."</p> + +<p>"I explain facts by people, not people by facts," said Atkins hotly. +"And I have told you—"</p> + +<p>"I think it is only fair to say that you have told me something that +lays Heath under suspicion," said Hartley, slowly. "He behaved very +oddly, lately, when I asked him a simple question, and he chose to +refuse to see me when I went to his house. All that was a small matter, +but what you tell me now is serious."</p> + +<p>"Serious for Heath, and for that very reason I particularly want him +protected. But as for suspicion, I know the man thoroughly, and that is +quite absurd." Atkins got up and terminated the interview. "It is absurd +to talk of suspicion," he said again, irritably. "I hope you will drop +that attitude, Hartley. If I had imagined for a moment that you were +likely to adopt it, I should have kept my mouth shut."</p> + +<p>He went away, his narrow shoulders humped, and his whole figure +testifying to his annoyance, and Hartley sat alone, watching the +moonlight and thinking his own thoughts. He was interrupted by a woman's +voice, and Mrs. Wilder sat down in the chair left vacant by Atkins.</p> + +<p>"What are you pondering about, Mr. Hartley? Are you seeing ghosts or +moon spirits? You certainly give the idea that you are immensely +preoccupied."</p> + +<p>"Do I?" Hartley laughed awkwardly. "Well, as a matter of fact, I was not +thinking of anything very pleasant."</p> + +<p>"Can I help?"—her voice was very soft and alluring.</p> + +<p>"No one can, I am afraid."</p> + +<p>She touched his arm with a little intimate gesture, and her eyes shone +in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>"How can you say that? If I were in any sort of fix, or in any sort of +trouble, I would ask you to advise me, and to tell me what to do, before +I would go to anyone else, even Draycott, and why should you leave me +outside your worries?"</p> + +<p>"You see, that's just it, they aren't exactly mine. If they were I +would tell you, but I can't tell you, because what I was thinking about +was connected entirely with someone else."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder's eyes narrowed, and she lifted her slightly pointed nose a +very little.</p> + +<p>"Ah, now you make me inquisitive, and that is most unfair of you. Don't +tell me anything, Mr. Hartley, except just the name of the person +concerned. I'm very safe, as you know. Could you tell me the name, or +would it be wrong of you?"</p> + +<p>"The name won't convey very much to you," said Hartley, laughing. "I was +thinking of the Padré, Heath. That doesn't give you much clue, does it?"</p> + +<p>It was too dark for him to see a look that sprang into Mrs. Wilder's +eyes, or perhaps Hartley might have found a considerable disparity +between her look and her light words.</p> + +<p>"Poor Mr. Heath, he is one of those terribly serious, conscientious +people, who go about life making themselves wretched for the good of +their souls. He ought to have lived in the Middle Ages. I won't ask you +<i>why</i> you are thinking about him"—she got up and lingered a little, and +Hartley rose also—"but you know that you should not think of anyone +unless you want to make others think of them, too; it isn't at all safe. +I shall have to think of Mr. Heath all the way home, and he is <i>such</i> a +gaunt, scraggy kind of thought."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could replace him with myself," said Hartley, in a burst of +admiration.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder accepted his compliment graciously and walked across the +grass to the drive, where her car panted almost noiselessly, as is the +way of good cars, and he put her in with the manner of a jeweller +putting a precious diamond pendant into a case. He watched the car +disappear, and considered that some men are undeservedly lucky in this +life.</p> + +<p>Hartley was nearly forty, that dangerously sentimental age, and he began +to wonder if, by chance, he had met Clarice Wilder years ago in a +Devonshire orchard, life might not have been a wonderful thing. He +called her a "sweet woman" in his mind, and it was almost a pity that +Mrs. Wilder did not know, because her sense of humour was subtle and +acute, and she would have thoroughly enjoyed the description of herself. +She could read Hartley as quickly as she could read the telegrams in the +<i>Mangadone Times</i>, and she could play upon him as she played upon her +own grand piano.</p> + +<p>She had not asked any questions, and she knew nothing of what Atkins had +said about Heath; but her face was set and tense as she drove towards +her bungalow. She was certainly thinking very definitely, quite as +definitely as Hartley had been thinking as he watched the moonlight +playing hide-and-seek with the shadows of the palm branches and the +darkness of the trees, and her thoughts left no pleasant look upon her +face or in her eyes; and yet Hartley, on his way to the bungalow where +he lived, was thinking of her in a white dress and a shady hat, with a +fleecy blue and white sky overhead and the scent of apple-blossom in the +air.</p> + +<p>The power of romance is strong in adolescence, but it is stronger still +when the turnstile of years is reached and there is finality in the air. +Hartley was built for platonics; Fate gave him the necessary touch of +the commonplace that dispels romance and replaces it with a kind of +deadly domesticity; and yet Hartley was unaware of the fact.</p> + +<p>He had never thought of being "in love" with Mrs. Wilder, partly because +he felt it would be "no use," and partly because she had never seemed to +expect it from him, but as he walked along the road he began to find +that her manner had of late altered considerably. She seemed to take an +interest in him, and though she had always been his friend, her new +attitude was charged with invisible electricity.</p> + +<p>So far as Mrs. Wilder was concerned, Hartley was to her what a sitting +hen would be to a sporting man. You couldn't shoot the confiding thing; +but you might wring its neck if necessary, or push it out of the way +with an impatient foot. She knew her power over him to a nicety, and she +knew of his secret desire for "situations," because her instinct was +never at fault; but she felt nothing more than contempt, slightly +charged with pity towards him. Hartley was a good-natured, idiotic man, +and Hartley had principles; Clarice Wilder had none herself, though she +felt that they were definite factors in any game, but she also believed +that principles were things that could be got over, or got at, by any +woman who knew enough about life to manage such as Hartley.</p> + +<p>All the same, it was not of Hartley that she thought. She had been quite +truthful when she said that he had suggested Heath to her mind, and +that she would have to consider his gaunt face and hollow cheeks during +her drive.</p> + +<p>If he had sat on the vacant seat beside her, the Rev. Francis Heath +could hardly have been more clearly before her eyes, and could hardly +have drawn her mind more strongly, and it was because of her thought of +him that she preserved her steady look and strange eyes.</p> + +<p>A strong woman, a woman with character, a woman who once she saw her +way, was able to follow it faithfully, wherever it twisted, wherever it +wound, and wherever it eventually brought her. No one could picture her +flinching or turning back along a road she had set out to follow; if it +had run in blood, she would have gone on in bare feet, not picking her +steps, and yet Hartley dreamed of apple orchards and an Eve in a white +muslin dress.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII" />VII</h2> + +<h3>FINDS THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH READING GEORGE HERBERT'S POEMS, AND LEAVES +HIM PLEDGED TO A POSSIBLY COMPROMISING SILENCE</h3> + + +<p>The Reverend Francis Heath was sitting in his upstairs room, for of late +he had avoided the veranda. It was the leisure hour of the day, the slow +hour when the light wanes and it is too early to call for a lamp; the +hour when memory or fear can both be poignant in tropical climates.</p> + +<p>The house was very still, Atkins had gone to the Club and the servants +had all returned to their own quarters. Outside, noises were many. +Birds, with ugly, tuneless notes that were not songs but cries, flitted +in the trees, and the rumble of traffic on the road came up in the +evening air, broken occasionally by the shrill persistence of an exhaust +whistle or the clamour of a motor-horn, and above all other sounds the +long-drawn, occasional hoot from a ship anchored in the river highway. +There was noise, and to spare, outside, but within everything was still, +except for the chittering of a nest of bats in the eaves, and the +sudden, relaxing creak of bamboo chairs, that behave sometimes as though +ghosts sat restlessly in their arms.</p> + +<p>The sunlight that fell into the garden and caught its green, turning it +into flaming emerald, climbed in at Mr. Heath's window, and lay across +his writing-table; it touched his shoulder and withdrew a little, +touched the lines on his forehead for a moment, touched the open book +before him, and fell away, followed by a shadow that grew deeper as it +passed. It faded out of the garden like a memory that cannot be held +back by human striving. The distances turned into shadowy blue, and from +blue to purple, until only a few flecks of golden light across the +pearl-silver told that it was gone eternally; that its hour was spent, +for good or ill, and that Mangadone had come one evening nearer to the +end of measureless Time; but the Rev. Francis Heath did not regard its +going. His face was sad with a terrible, tragic sadness that is the +sadness of life and not death, and yet it was of death and not of life +that he thought. A little book of George Herbert's poems lay open before +him and he had been reading it with a scholar's love of quaint +phraseology:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"I made a posy, while the days ran by;<br /></span> +<span>Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My life within this band.<br /></span> +<span>But Time did beckon to the flowers, and they,<br /></span> +<span>By noon, most cunningly did steal away,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And wither'd in my hand."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He read the lines over and over again, and gave a deep, heart-broken +sigh, bending his face between his hands, and bowing his shoulders as +though under a heavy weight. His gaunt frame was thin and spare, his +black alpaca coat hung on it like a sack, and his whole attitude spoke +of sorrow. He might have been the presentment of an unwilling ghost, who +stood with the Ferryman's farthing under his palm, waiting to be taken +across the cheerless, dark waters to a limbo of drifting souls. He took +his hands from before his face and clasped them over the book, looking +out of the window to the evening shadows, as if he tried to find peace +in the very act of contemplation.</p> + +<p>The sad things he came in daily contact with had conquered his faith in +life, though they had not succeeded in killing his trust in God's +eventual plan of redemption; and his mind wandered in terrible places, +places he had forced his way into, places he could never forget. He +suffered from all a reformer's agony, an agony that is the small +reflection of the great story of the mystic burden heavy as the sins of +the whole world, and he tried, out of the simple, childlike fancy of the +words he read, to grasp at a better mind.</p> + +<p>Heath was one of those men who could not understand effortless faith; he +was crushed by his own lack of success, and bowed down by his own +failure. Since he could not rout the enemy single-handed, he believed +that the battle was against the Hosts of the Lord. He knew no leisure +from the war of his own thoughts, and as he clasped his hands, his face +grew tense and set, and his eyes haggard and terrible. For a moment he +sat very still, and his eyes followed the lines written by a man who had +the faith of a little child:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"But Time did beckon to the flowers, and they,<br /></span> +<span>By noon, most cunningly did steal away."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Heath had never gathered flowers, either as a lesson to himself or a +gift for others; they hardly spoke of careless beauty to him, they were +emblems of lightness and thoughtlessness, and Heath had no time to stop +and consider the lilies of the field.</p> + +<p>He moved suddenly like a man who is awakened from a thought heavier than +sleep, and listened with a hunted look, the look of a man who is afraid +of footsteps; he stood up, gathering his loose limbs together and +watching the door. Steps came up the staircase, steps that stumbled a +little, and if Heath had possessed Mhtoon Pah's art of reading the walk +of his fellow creatures, he would have known that he might expect a +woman and not a man.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Heath," a low voice called in the passage, and Heath's tension +relaxed, giving place to surprise.</p> + +<p>The voice was strange to him, and he passed his handkerchief over his +face and walked to the door, just as his name was called again, in the +same low, penetrating voice.</p> + +<p>"Who wants me?" he asked, almost roughly, and then he saw a tall, dark +woman standing at the top of the staircase.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Wilder," he said in surprise, and she made a little imperious +movement with her hand.</p> + +<p>"I did not call your servant, I came up, because I wanted to find you +alone. You are alone?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, I am alone."</p> + +<p>"May I come in?"</p> + +<p>Heath held the door open for her to pass, and she walked in, looking +around the darkening room with hard, curious eyes.</p> + +<p>She took the chair he gave her, in silence, and sat down near the +writing-table, and, feeling that she would speak after a time, Heath +took his own place again and waited.</p> + +<p>"I hardly know where to begin," she said, always speaking in the same +low, intent voice. "Do you recall the evening of the twenty-ninth?"</p> + +<p>An odd spasm caught Heath's face, and he paused for a moment before he +answered.</p> + +<p>"I do recall it."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you remember seeing me? I was riding along the road when I +first passed you, and you were walking."</p> + +<p>"I remember that I did pass you then, and also that I saw you later."</p> + +<p>Heath's sombre eyes were on her face, and his fingers touched a gold +cross that hung from his watch-chain.</p> + +<p>"You passed me, and you passed Absalom, the Christian boy, and you have +been questioned about Absalom."</p> + +<p>"I have," he said heavily. "Why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder took a quick breath.</p> + +<p>"Because I am afraid that you may be asked again. You understand, Mr. +Heath, that I know it was the merest chance that brought you there that +evening, but, as you were there, and as Mr. Hartley has got it into his +head that you know something more than you have told him, I beg of you +to bear in mind that if you mention my name you may get me into serious +trouble. You would not do that willingly, I think?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly would not. What motive took you there is a question for +your own conscience. It is not for me to press that question, Mrs. +Wilder."</p> + +<p>She pressed her lips together tightly.</p> + +<p>"I went there to see an old friend who was in great trouble."</p> + +<p>"And yet you have to keep it secret?"</p> + +<p>"Haven't we all our secrets, Mr. Heath?" Her voice was raised a little. +"Will you pledge me your solemn word to keep this knowledge from anyone +who asks?" She put her elbows on the table and drew closer to him.</p> + +<p>"I will respect your confidence," he said slowly. "But is it likely that +Hartley will ask me?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder made a gesture of denial.</p> + +<p>"I <i>think</i> not, but who can tell? This thing has been like lead on my +mind and will not let me rest. Oh, Mr. Heath, if you knew what I have +already paid, you would be sorry for me."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," he said gently. "More sorry for you than you can tell. +You, too, saw Absalom, and spoke to him?"</p> + +<p>"He has nothing to do with what I came here about,"—her tone grew +impatient. "I only wanted to make sure that I was safe with you. It was +no little thing that drove me to come. I am a proud woman, Mr. Heath, +and I do not usually ask favours, yet I ask you now—"</p> + +<p>"Not a favour," he said, taking her up quickly. "God knows I have every +reason to help you if I can. Does Hartley suspect you? Does he question +you? Does he try to wring admissions out of you?"</p> + +<p>In the darkness Heath's voice rang hard and, metallic, like the voice of +a man whose thoughts return upon something that maddens him.</p> + +<p>"He has not done so, but he has asked me questions that made me +frightened. It is a terrible thing to be afraid."</p> + +<p>"And Joicey?" said Heath in a quiet voice. "I saw Joicey, but he did not +stop to speak to me. Has he, too, been interrogated?"</p> + +<p>"So far as I know, he has not. But this question presses only on me. +What took you there is, I feel sure, easily accounted for, and what took +Mr. Joicey there is not likely to be a matter of the smallest +importance; it is <i>I</i> who suffer, it is on me that all this weight lies. +If the police begin investigations they come close upon the fact that I +went there to meet a man whom my husband has forbidden me to meet. Any +little turn of evidence that involves me, any little accident that +obliges me to admit it, and I am lost,"—her voice thrilled and pleaded.</p> + +<p>"It is you who are lost," he echoed dully. "I can understand how you +feel. If I can ease your burden or lessen the anxiety you suffer from, +you may depend upon me, Mrs. Wilder. This matter is a dark road where I, +too, walk blind, not knowing the path I follow, but, at least, I can +give you my word that under no circumstances shall I be led to mention +your name. You can be sure of that, Mrs. Wilder. If I can add your +trouble to my own burden I shall not feel its weight, but I would +counsel you to be honest with your husband. Tell him the truth."</p> + +<p>"I will," said Mrs. Wilder, with an acquiescence that came too quickly. +"I assure you that I will, but even when I do, you see what a position +the least publicity places me in?"</p> + +<p>Heath got up and paced the floor with long, restless strides.</p> + +<p>"Publicity. The open avowal of a hidden thing; the knowledge that the +whole world judges and condemns, and does not understand."</p> + +<p>"That is what I feel."</p> + +<p>After all, he was more human than she had expected. Clarice Wilder had +looked upon the Rev. Francis as a hermit, an ascetic, whose +comprehension was limited; and her eyes grew keen as she watched his +gaunt figure.</p> + +<p>"To be dragged down, to be accused, to be cast so low," he continued, in +his sad, heavy voice, "so low that the lowest have cause to deride and +to scorn." He stopped before her. "Is it true that I can save you from +that?"</p> + +<p>"It is true."</p> + +<p>She did not tell him that she had lied to Draycott; it did not appear +necessary; neither did she tell him that Draycott's memory was long and +sure and unerring.</p> + +<p>"Then, if there is one man in all God's universe,"—Heath cast out his +arms as he spoke—"one man above all others whom you could appeal to, +could trust most entirely, that man is myself. Give me your burden, your +distress of mind, and I will take them; I cannot say more—"</p> + +<p>"Of course, it may never be necessary for you to—to avoid telling Mr. +Hartley," broke in Mrs. Wilder quickly. Heath was getting on her nerves, +and she rose to her feet. "I cannot thank you sufficiently, and I fear +that I have upset you, made you feel my own cares too profoundly,"—her +voice grew almost tender. "I have never known such ready sympathy, but +you feel too intensely, Mr. Heath. You make my little trouble your own, +and you have made me very grateful. Are you in any trouble yourself?"</p> + +<p>Heath stopped for a moment, an outline against the light of the window. +She thought he was going to speak, and she waited with an odd feeling of +excitement to hear what was coming, when he suddenly retired back into +his usual manner.</p> + +<p>A light was travelling up the staircase, casting great shadows before +it, and when the boy came to the door of the Padré Sahib's room, he saw +his master saying good-bye to a tall, dark lady who smiled at him and +gave him her hand.</p> + +<p>"Good night, Mr. Heath, I hardly know how to thank you sufficiently."</p> + +<p>She hurried down the staircase, and as she walked out, she met Atkins +coming in on his bicycle. He jumped off as he saw her, and spoke in +surprise.</p> + +<p>"I have just been calling on the Padré," replied Mrs. Wilder pleasantly, +as he commented with ever-ready tactlessness upon her presence in the +Compound. "One of my servants is ill; a member of his community. By the +way, do you think that Mr. Heath is quite well himself?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I do not think so. He overworks. I have a great admiration for +Heath."</p> + +<p>"He must be rather depressing in the rains," she said, with a careless +laugh. "He positively gave me the shivers. I can hardly envy you boxed +up there with him. I believe he sees ghosts, and I think they must be +horrid ghosts or he couldn't look as he does."</p> + +<p>Her car was waiting down the road, and Atkins walked beside her and saw +her get in. Mrs. Wilder was very charming to him; she leaned out and +smiled at him again.</p> + +<p>"Do take care of the Padré," she called as she drove off.</p> + +<p>"There goes a sensible, good-looking woman," thought Atkins, and he +thought highly of Mrs. Wilder for her visit to Heath. He said so to the +Rector of St. Jude's as they dined together, remarking on the fact that +very few women bothered about sick servants, and he was surprised at the +cold lack of enthusiasm with which Heath accepted his remark.</p> + +<p>"That was what she said?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I call it unusual in a country where servants are treated like +machines. I've never known Mrs. Wilder very well, but she is an +interesting woman; don't you think so, Heath?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Heath absently. "I never form definite opinions +about people on a slight knowledge of them."</p> + +<p>Atkins felt snubbed, but he only laughed good-naturedly, and Heath +relapsed into silence.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder was dining out that night, and she looked so superbly +handsome and so defiantly well that everyone remarked upon her; and even +Draycott Wilder, who might have been supposed to be used to her beauty +and her wit, watched her with his slow, following look. Hartley was not +at the dinner-party, but afterwards echoes of its success reached him, +and a description of Mrs. Wilder herself that thrilled his romantic +sense as he listened.</p> + +<p>Hartley was worried about the Padré, and he had warned the policeman to +watch the Compound at night; but all the watching in the world did not +explain the cause of these visits. There was a connection somewhere and +somehow between Heath and the missing Absalom, and Hartley wondered if +he could venture to speak to Mrs. Wilder again about the night of the +29th of July, and implore her to let him know if she had seen Heath with +Absalom.</p> + +<p>It seemed, judging by what Atkins had heard, that Heath was paying for +silence, and Hartley disliked the idea of working up evidence against +the Padré. The more he thought of it the less he liked it, and yet his +duty and his sense of responsibility would not let him rest. Mrs. Wilder +had said that she had seen Heath and Absalom, and had then refused to +say anything more, but Hartley saw in her reserve a suggestion of +further knowledge that could not be ignored or denied.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah was quieter for the moment. He believed that Leh Shin was +being cautiously tracked, and the pointing image had held no further +traces of bloodshed upon his yellow hands. Hartley had grown to loathe +the grinning figure, and to loathe the whole tedious, difficult tragedy +of the lost boy. If it had lain in the native quarter he could have +found interest in the excitement of the chase, but if it ramified into +the Cantonment, Hartley had no mind for it. He was a man first, a +sociable, kindly man, and, later, an officer of the law.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII" />VIII</h2> + +<h3>SHOWS HOW THE CLOAK OF DARKNESS OF ONE NIGHT HIDES MANY EMOTIONS, AND +MRS. WILDER IS FRANKLY INQUISITIVE</h3> + + +<p>Darkness brooded everywhere, but the gloom of night is a darkness that +is impenetrable only to our eyes because we creatures of the hard glare +of daylight cannot see in the strange clearness that brings out the +stars. Only in the houses of men real darkness has its habitation. Under +close roofs, confined within walls, shut into rooms, and lurking in +corners: there, darkness may be found, and because man made it, it has +its own special terror, as have all the creatures of man's hand. Dark, +menacing and noiseless, the shadows flock in as daylight wanes, filing +up like heavy thoughts and sad thoughts, and casting a gloom with their +coming that is not the blackness of earth's restful night.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder paced her room with the steps of a woman whose heart drives +sleep out with scorpion-whips of memory; and she went softly, for sound +travels far at night, and Draycott Wilder, in the next room, was a light +sleeper. She was thinking steadily, and she was trying to force her will +across the distance into the stronghold of Hartley's inner +consciousness.</p> + +<p>Night brought no more rest to Mrs. Draycott Wilder than it did to Craven +Joicey, the Banker, but Joicey did not sit in the dark. Madness lies in +the dark for some minds, and he had turned on the electric light, that +showed his face yellow and weary. On the wall the lizards, awakened by +the sudden glare, resumed their fly-catching, and scuttled with a dry, +scurrying sound over the walls, breaking the silence with a perpetual +"chuck-chuck" as they chased each other. Joicey looked as though he was +dreaming evil dreams, and nothing of his surroundings was real to him. +The room became another room, the tables and chairs grew indistinct, the +face of a small <i>Gaudama</i> on the mantel-piece became a living face that +menaced him, and the "chuck-chuck" of the lizards, the rattle of dice +falling on to a board at some remote distance miles and miles away, and +yet strangely audible to his dull ears. Still he sat there, and flashes +of fancies came and went. Sometimes he stood in an English garden, with +a far-away sunlit glimpse of glittering waters, and a cuckoo crying in a +wood of waving trees, and then he knew that he was a boy, and that he +had forgotten everything that had happened since; and then, without +warning, he was swept out of the garden and stood under Eastern trees, +lost in a wild place, with the haunting face of the image at his +shoulder. The face altered. Sometimes it was Mhtoon Pah's pointing man, +and what he pointed at was never clear. The mistiness bothered him +horribly.</p> + +<p>The <i>Durwan</i> outside played on a wistful little flute, thinking that his +master was asleep; he heard it, and it did not concern him; he was dead +to all outward things just then, and the flute only added to the mystery +of the dream that spun itself in his brain. He wandered in a place so +near actual things and yet so far from them, that the gigantic mistake +of it all, and the consciousness that the inner life could at times +conquer the outer life, made him fall away between the two conditions, +lost and helpless. His head nodded forward, and his lower lip dropped, +and yet his eyes were open, as he sat facing the small squatting Buddha, +whose changeless face changed only for him.</p> + +<p>The three little flute-notes tripped out after each other with no +semblance at a tune, repeating and reiterating the sound in the dark +outside, and Joicey listened as though something of weight depended upon +his hearing steadily. The sound was the one thing that made him know +that he was real, and once it ceased, or he ceased to hear it, he would +be across the gulf and terribly lost; a mind without a body, let loose +in a world where there were no landmarks, no known roads, nothing but +windy space, and he was afraid of that place, and feared terribly to go +there.</p> + +<p>Something shuffled on the stone veranda, another sound, and sound was of +value to Craven Joicey, since it made a vital note in the circling +numbness around him. He could hear whispering voices, and the thump of +the <i>Durwan's</i> stick, as that musically-minded man walked round to the +back of the house, where his lighted window showed that Craven Joicey +did not sleep. Again a voice whispered, and a low sound of discreet +knocking followed.</p> + +<p>Joicey sprang up and called out hoarsely:</p> + +<p>"Who is it?"</p> + +<p>"Sahib, Sahib"—the <i>Durwan's</i> whine was apologetic. "Is the Sahib +awake?"</p> + +<p>"Who wants me?"</p> + +<p>"Leh Shin, the Chinaman."</p> + +<p>Joicey wiped his face with his handkerchief and pulled open the door +with a violent movement.</p> + +<p>"Come in," he said, trying to speak naturally. "What is it, Leh Shin?"</p> + +<p>The Chinaman held a tweed hat in his hand and stole into the room like a +shadow.</p> + +<p>"What now, Leh Shin?"</p> + +<p>Joicey spoke in Yunnanese with the fluency of long habit, and even +though he was angry he kept his voice low as though he feared to be +overheard.</p> + +<p>"The Master of Masters will speak for me," said the Chinaman, standing +before him. "All day the police stand near to my house, and at night +they do not leave it. At one word from the Master, whose speech is +constructed of gold and precious metals, they can be withdrawn, and for +that word I wait—" He made a quick gesture with his tweed cap.</p> + +<p>"You will gain nothing by coming to my house, you swine," said Joicey, +his eyes staring and his veins standing out on his forehead. "I will see +what Mr. Hartley will do, but if you drag in my name or refer him to me +you will do yourself no good, do you hear? No good."</p> + +<p>Leh Shin watched him passively and waited until he had finished.</p> + +<p>"I will swear the oath," he said, blinking his eyes. "I will not speak +the name of the Master, but my doors are locked, my house is a house for +the water-rats, and until the big Lord frees me I am a poor man."</p> + +<p>Joicey sat down heavily on a low chair.</p> + +<p>"It shall be stopped," he said desperately. "I will see that there is no +more of this police supervision; you may take my word for it."</p> + +<p>The Chinaman stood still, moving one foot to the other.</p> + +<p>"In dreams the Master has spoken these promises to me before. Can I be +sure that it is not in a dream that the Master speaks again?"</p> + +<p>"I am awake," said Joicey, bitterly. "Mr. Hartley is looking for the +boy, and if the boy were found, all search would stop,"—he eyed the +Chinaman carefully, but the mask-like face did not change.</p> + +<p>"And the little boy? Perhaps, Ruler and King, the little boy is gone +dead."</p> + +<p>"You ask me <i>that</i>, you devil?"</p> + +<p>"It is for the servant to ask," said Leh Shin, dropping his lids for a +second.</p> + +<p>"Now, get out," said Joicey, between his clenched teeth. "And if you +come here to me again, at night, I'll kill you."</p> + +<p>"The Great One will not do that," said Leh Shin, placidly. "My +assistant waits for me. It would be known as fire is known when the +forest is dry. To-morrow or next day, if the police are gone, my little +house will be open again." He spoke the words with deep emphasis.</p> + +<p>"Get out," said Joicey, turning away his head.</p> + +<p>Leh Shin looked at him with a sudden, oblique glance like the flash of a +knife.</p> + +<p>"Speak no more, Lord of men and elephants; the <i>Durwan</i> is now outside +the door, and he listens."</p> + +<p>"Good-night," said Joicey loudly, and he clicked off the light and went +to bed.</p> + +<p>If the darkness was close in the large houses of the Cantonment, it was +shut into the very essence of itself in the curio shop in Paradise +Street. It hid the carved devils from one another, it obliterated the +stone monsters that no one ever bought, and which had grown to belong to +the shop itself; it dropped its black veil over the green dragons, and +the china ladies, and the silver bowls and the little ivories, hiding +everything out of sight; but it did not hide the figure outside in the +street. The little man, with his pointed headdress and short jacket, had +the clear darkness all to himself. He was just as polite by night as he +was by day, and he bowed and ushered imaginary buyers up the stone steps +with the same perpetual civility, and the same unceasing smile, that +bagged out his varnished cheeks into joviality.</p> + +<p>Dark as it was inside the shop, it must have been darker along the +rat-burrows of stairs, and the loft-like rooms near the roof, but either +up above or down below, the scent of cassia and sandal-wood clung +everywhere inside the curio shop, smelling strongest around the glass +cases and bales of delicate silks.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah's <i>Durwan</i> slept across the doorway, and was therefore the +only object for the attention of the little man, and likewise, +therefore, he did not point to his master, who came in, in the dead, +heavy hours before dawn. He could not have been far; there was hardly +any dust on his red velvet slippers, and he brushed what there was from +them with a careful hand. As he placed his lamp on the floor, the light +threw odd shadows up the walls, turning that of Mhtoon Pah himself into +a grotesque and gigantic mass of darkness, and when he stooped and stood +erect it jumped with a sudden living spring.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah moved about the shop on light feet. He bent here and there to +examine some of the objects closely, with the manner and gesture of a +man who loves beautiful things for their own sakes as well as for the +profit he hoped to gain from their sale. When he had twice made a tour +of inspection, he placed an alabaster Buddha in the centre of a carved +table and sat down before it. The Buddha was dead white, with a red +chain around his neck, and on his head a gold cap with long, gem-set +ears hanging to the shoulders, and Mhtoon Pah sat long in front of the +figure, swaying a little and moving his lips soundlessly. He appeared +like a man who is self-mesmerized by the flame of a candle, and his face +worked with suppressed and violent emotion; at any moment it seemed as +though he might break the silence with some awful, passion-tossed +sound.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, he stopped in his voiceless worship, and, leaning forward +quickly, extinguished the lamp. If he had heard any sound, it was +apparently from below, for he crouched on the ground with his head close +to the teak boarding, and crawled with slow, noiseless care towards the +door. A silk curtain covered the window, hiding the interior of the shop +from the street, and, when he reached the low woodwork above which it +hung, he twitched the curtain back with a sudden movement of his hand +and raised himself slowly until his head was on a level with the glass.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah grew suddenly rigid, and the thick black hair on his head +seemed to bristle. Pressed close against the window, with only a slender +barrier of glass between them, was the face of Leh Shin, the Chinaman. A +ray of white moonlight fell across them both, and its clear radiance +lighted up every feature of the curio dealer's face, changing its brown +into a strange, ghastly pallor. For a moment they stood immovable, +staring into each other's eyes, and the shadows behind Mhtoon Pah in the +shop, and the shadows behind Leh Shin in the street, seemed to listen +and wait with them, seemed to creep closer and enfold them, seemed to +draw up and up on noiseless feet and hang suspended around them. The +moment might have endured for years, so full was it of menace and +passion, and then the man outside moved quickly and the moonlight +flooded in across the face and shoulders of the Burman.</p> + +<p>For a second longer he remained as though fascinated, and then Mhtoon +Pah wrenched at the door and thundered back the heavy bolts. There were +flecks of foam on his lips, and his eyes rolled as he dashed through the +door and out down the steps, rending the air with cries of murder. He +was too late, the Chinaman had gone. When the street flocked out to see +what the disturbance meant, Mhtoon Pah was crouching on his steps in a +kind of fit.</p> + +<p>"I have seen the face of the slayer of Absalom," he shrieked, when the +crowd had carried him in, and recovered him to his senses.</p> + +<p>"Is he a devil?" asked a young Burman, in tones of joyful excitement. "A +devil with iron claws has been seen several nights lately."</p> + +<p>"A Chinese devil," groaned Mhtoon Pah, speaking through his clenched +teeth. "One who shall yet be hanged for his crime."</p> + +<p>"Ah! ah!" said the watchers. "He dreams that it is a man, but it is +known that a devil has walked in Paradise Street, his jaws open. +Certainly he has eaten little Absalom."</p> + +<p>Dawn was breaking, the pale, still hour that is often the hour of death; +and a cool breeze rippled in the date palms and in the flat green leaves +of the rubber plants, and the festoons of succulent green growths that +climbed up the houses of the Cantonments, and dawn found the Rev. +Francis Heath sleeping quietly. He was lying with one arm under his +head, and his worn face in almost child-like repose. Wherever he was, +sleep had carried him to a place of peace and refreshment. When he awoke +he would have forgotten his dream, but for the moment the dream +sufficed, and he rested in the circle of its charm.</p> + +<p>All the time that we are young and careless and happy, we are building +retreats for memory that make harbours of rest in later years, when the +storms come with force. All the old things that did not count, come back +to calm and to restore. The school-room, where the light flickered on a +special corner of the ceiling, telling the children to come out and +play; the tapping of the laurels outside the church windows, and the +musty smell of red rep cushions along the pew where the hours were very +slow in passing; the white clover in the field behind the garden, got at +easily through a hole in the privet hedge. The play of light and shadow +over the hills of home, the dusk at nightfall, and the homely cawing of +rooks. All the delicious things that went with the smell of ripe +strawberries under nets, where thieving birds fluttered until the +gardener let them free again; and the mystery of sparks flying up the +chimney when the winter logs blazed. Every simple joy is stored away in +some lumber corner of the minds of men, and when sleep comes, sometimes +the old things are taken out again.</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis Heath, like the rest of the world, had his own secret +doorway that led back to wonderland, and it may have been that he was +far away from Mangadone in this child-world which is so hard to find +again, as he slept, and the outside world grew from grey to green, and +from green to misty gold. The sunlight flamed on the spire of the +Pagoda, it danced up the brown river and threw long shadows before its +coming, those translucent shadows that no artist has ever yet been able +to paint. It turned the mohur trees blood-red, and the grass to shining +emerald green, and Mangadone looked as though it had just come fresh +from the hands of its Creator.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah, recovered from his fit, was in his shop early, and he +himself went out to cleanse the effigy outside with a white duster, and +to set his wares in order. It was a good day for sales, as a liner had +come in and brought with it many rich Americans, and Mhtoon Pah was glad +to sell to such as they. His stock-in-trade was beautiful and +attractive, and in the centre of the table, where the unset stones +glittered and shone on white velvet, there stood a bowl, a gold lacquer +bowl of perfect symmetry and very great beauty. He poised it on his +hands once or twice and examined it carefully. As it was already sold it +was not to remain in the curio shop, but Mhtoon Pah was a careful man, +and he desired that Mrs. Wilder should fetch it herself; besides, he +liked her car to stand outside his shop, and he liked her to come in and +look at his goods. Very few people who came in to look, went away +without having bought several things they did not in the least want. +Mhtoon Pah knew exactly how to lure by influence, and he knew that Mrs. +Wilder could no more turn away from a grey-and-pink shot silk than Eve +could refuse the forbidden fruit.</p> + +<p>He spread out a sea-blue Mandarin's coat, embroidered with peaches, and +small, crafty touches of black here and there, and looked at it with the +loving eye of a connoisseur. His whole shop was a fountain of colour, +and he was not unworthy of it in his silk petticoat. A ray of sunlight +fell in through the door and touched a few threads of gold in the coat +as Mhtoon Pah hung it up to good advantage, and turned to see a customer +come in. It was the Rev. Francis Heath; and Mhtoon Pah's face fell. +"Reverends" were not good buyers, specially when they had not any wives, +and Mr. Heath took no notice of the attractive display as he stood, +black and forbidding, in the centre of the shop.</p> + +<p>"I have come here, Mhtoon Pah, to ask for news of Absalom," he said, +meeting his eyes forcefully. "Where is he?"</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah bowed low, as befitted the dignity of his guest, who was, +after all, a <i>Hypongyi</i>, even though he wore no yellow robes.</p> + +<p>"It is unknown," he said, in a heavy voice. "The Reverend himself might +know, since the Reverend saw my little Absalom that night."</p> + +<p>"You <i>must</i> have suspicions?"</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah's face worked violently.</p> + +<p>"Leh Shin," he whispered. "Look there for what is left."</p> + +<p>Heath retreated before his fury.</p> + +<p>"You yourself sent the boy there."</p> + +<p>"<i>Wah! Wah!</i> I sent him and he did not return."</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about?" said the fresh, gay voice of Mrs. Wilder. +"Where is my lacquer bowl, Mhtoon Pah?" She came in, bright as the +morning outside, and smiled at the Rev. Francis Heath. "So you have got +it for me."</p> + +<p>"I did not get it, Lady Sahib," said Mhtoon Pah. "It came here, how I +know not. I found it outside my shop in the care of the wooden image +when I went to dust his limbs this morning."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder laughed.</p> + +<p>"In that case I shall not have to pay for it. But what do you mean, +Mhtoon Pah?"</p> + +<p>"It is blood money," said Mhtoon Pah, with a wild gasp. "Only one man +knew of the bowl, only one man could have put it there. I shall tell +Hartley Sahib; the <i>Thakin</i> will strike surely and swiftly."</p> + +<p>"He will do nothing of the kind," said Mrs. Wilder, with a quick look at +Heath. "Give me my bowl, Mhtoon Pah; you are letting yourself dream +foolish things. Absalom"—she tapped the polished floor with her +well-shaped foot—"will come back and explain everything himself, and +then—whoever is responsible—will bear the penalty."</p> + +<p>"They have tied his head to his elbows, and set snakes to sting him," +said Mhtoon Pah. "This have they done, and worse things, Lady Sahib."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder shivered.</p> + +<p>"Give me my bowl, you horrible old man. Absalom is blacking boots in a +New York hotel, weeks ago.—Ah! what a coat! Are you buying anything, +Mr. Heath?"</p> + +<p>"I am going to the school," he answered slowly.</p> + +<p>"Then let me drive you there. Send me up the Mandarin's coat, Mhtoon +Pah, and I will haggle another day."</p> + +<p>Heath followed her reluctantly down the steps. He wished she had not +made a point of taking him in her motor, but he felt instinctively sorry +for her, which fact, had she known it, would have surprised and +affronted her.</p> + +<p>"Will you come and dine with us one night?" she asked, looking at him +with her fine eyes; "it would give us great pleasure, and I do not think +you have met my husband."</p> + +<p>"I rarely do dine out," said Heath, staring before him as the car backed +round in the limited space of Paradise Street.</p> + +<p>"Then make this an exception. I won't ask you to a function, just a +quiet little family party."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind."</p> + +<p>He was still abstracted, and hardly seemed to hear her, and, when he got +out and shut the door, she leaned from the window, smiling like weary +royalty.</p> + +<p>"I will write and arrange an evening later on. It is a promise, Mr. +Heath."</p> + +<p>"I will come," he replied, in the same preoccupied voice, as he raised +his battered <i>topi</i>.</p> + +<p>"What has he been doing?" she asked herself, in surprise, and again and +again she put the same question to herself, not only that morning, but +often, later on, and with ever-increasing curiosity.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX" />IX</h2> + +<h3>MRS. WILDER IS PRESENTED IN A MELTING MOOD, AND DRAYCOTT WILDER IS +FORCED TO RECALL THE LINES COMMENCING "A FOOL THERE WAS"</h3> + + +<p>It was a bright morning with a high wind blowing and a breath of +freshness in the air that has a charm to inspire a better outlook upon +life. Everywhere it made itself felt in Mangadone, and like Pippa in the +poem, the wind passed along, leaving everything and everybody a little +better for its coming. It passed through the open veranda of the huge +hospital, and touched the fever patients with its cool breath; it +hurried through the Chinese quarter, blew along Paradise Street, dusting +the gesticulating man, and went on up the river, pretending to make the +brown water change its muddy mind and run backwards instead of forwards. +It paid a little freakish attention to Mrs. Wilder's dark hair, and it +cooled the back of Hartley's neck, as they rode along together, by the +way of a lake.</p> + +<p>They had met quite accidentally, and Hartley, who had been vaguely +wishing for an opportunity to speak to Mrs. Wilder, seized upon it and +offered himself as her escort. She agreed with complimentary readiness, +and they turned along a wooded road, where the shadows were deep and +where Hartley felt the gripping hands of romance loosen his +heart-strings.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder listened to him, or appeared to do so, which is much the +same in effect, and Hartley was not critical. She was a good listener, +as women who have something else to think about often are; and so they +rode along the twisting path, and the wind sang in the plumes of the +bamboo trees, and Hartley believed that it sang a romantic lyric of +platonic admiration, exquisitely hinted at by a tactful man, and +properly appreciated by a very beautiful woman.</p> + +<p>"By the way," she said carelessly, "have you found that wretched little +Absalom yet? What a bother he has been since he took it into his head to +go off to America, or wherever it is he went to."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you mentioned him," said Hartley, his face <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'growng'">growing</ins> suddenly serious. "I have a question or two that +I want very much to ask you."</p> + +<p>"A question or two? That sounds so very legal. Really, Mr. Hartley, I +believe you credit me with having Absalom's body hanging up in one of my +<i>almirahs</i>. Honestly, don't you really believe that I had a hand in +putting him out of the way?"</p> + +<p>She laughed her hard little laugh, and shot a look at him over her +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"You do know something, some little thing it may be, but something that +might help me."</p> + +<p>"About Absalom, or about someone else?"</p> + +<p>"About whoever you saw him with."</p> + +<p>Hartley pushed his pony alongside of hers, but her face revealed +nothing, and was quite expressionless.</p> + +<p>"Whoever I saw him with?" she echoed reflectively. "Ah, but it is so +long ago, Mr. Hartley, I can't even remember now whether I was out or +not that evening."</p> + +<p>"You are only playing with me," said Hartley a little irritably. "The +policeman on duty at the cross-roads below Paradise Street saw you."</p> + +<p>Her face became suddenly so drawn and startled that Hartley regretted +his words almost as he spoke them.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute, Mr. Hartley," she said, in a strained, hard voice. "You +have to explain to me why you have asked your men questions connected +with me."</p> + +<p>"I did not ask questions; I was told."</p> + +<p>She pulled up her pony, and, turning her head away from him, looked out +silently over the dip of ground below them. Hartley did not break her +silence. He saw that he had come close to some deep emotion, and he +watched her curiously, but Mrs. Wilder, even if she was conscious of his +look, appeared quite indifferent to it. He could form no idea along what +road her silent concentration led her; but he knew that she pursued an +idea that was compelling and strong. He knew enough of her to know that +even her silence was not the silence that arises out of lack of subject +for talk, but that it meant something as definite and clear as though +she spoke direct words to him.</p> + +<p>The Head of the Police would have given much at that moment to have +been able to penetrate her thoughts, but he only stared at her with his +blue eyes a little wider open than usual, and waited for her to speak. +She looked before her steadily, but not with the eyes of a woman who +dreams; Mrs. Wilder was thinking definitely, and while Hartley waited, +her mind travelled at speed across years and came to a halt at the +moment where she now found herself, and from that moment she looked out +forcefully into the future.</p> + +<p>Usually, in the tragic instants of life there is very little time for +thought before the need for action forces the will, with relentless +hands. Clarice Wilder knew as well as she knew anything that her +position was one of some peril, and that much more than she could weigh +or measure at that moment lay beyond the next spoken word. She was +telling herself to be careful, steadying her nerve and reining in a +desire to pour out a flood of circumstantial evidence, calculated to +convince the Head of the Police.</p> + +<p>If there is one thing more than another that the man or the woman driven +against the ropes should avoid, it is prolixity; the snare that catches +craft in its own net. Clarice Wilder desired to be overpowering, +redundant and extreme in the wordy proof of her innocence of purpose +that evening of July the 29th, but she held back and waited steadfastly +until she was quite sure of herself again, and then she turned her head +and glanced at Hartley with a smile.</p> + +<p>"How silent you are," she said gently.</p> + +<p>Hartley flushed and looked self-conscious.</p> + +<p>"To be quite candid, that was what I was thinking of you," he replied +awkwardly.</p> + +<p>"What were we saying?" went on Mrs. Wilder. "Oh, of course, I remember. +You thought I could tell you something about poor Mr. Heath, didn't you? +I only wish I could, but it was so long ago. I do remember the evening. +It was very hot and I rode along by the river to get some fresh air," +her eyes grew hazy. "I can remember thinking that Mangadone looked as if +it was a great ball of amber, with the sun shining through it, but as +for being able to tell you what Mr. Heath was doing, or who he was with, +it is impossible. You should have pinned me down to it the day you +called on me, when this troublesome little boy first went off." She +gathered up the reins, and Hartley mounted reluctantly. "I am so sorry. +I would love to be able to help you, but I cannot remember."</p> + +<p>If Hartley had been asked on oath how it was that Mrs. Wilder had led +him clean away from the subject under discussion, to something +infinitely more satisfying and interesting, he could not have sworn to +it. They loitered by the road and came slowly back to the bungalow, +where they parted at the gate, and he watched her go in, hoping she +might turn her head, but she did not, and Hartley took his way towards +his own house and thought very little of Absalom or the Rev. Francis +Heath. One thing he did think of, and that was that Mrs. Wilder had +looked at him earnestly, and said that she wished he was not "mixed up" +in anything likely to bring uneasiness to the mind of the Rector of St. +Jude's Church. "Mixed up" was a curious way of expressing his connection +with the case, but Hartley felt that he knew what she meant. He pulled +at his short moustache and wished with all his heart that he really did +know; but all the wishes in the world could not help him out of a +professional dilemma.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder had not looked round, though she very well knew that Hartley +was waiting and hoping that she would, and once she had turned the first +bend she touched the pony with her heel and cantered up the hill, +throwing the reins to the <i>syce</i> who came in answer to her impatient +call.</p> + +<p>"Idiot," she said, as she shut the door of her room and flung her <i>topi</i> +on the bed, and she repeated the word several times with increasing +animosity and vigour. She hated Hartley at that moment, and felt under +no further obligation to hide her real feelings; and then Mrs. Wilder +sat down and thought hard.</p> + +<p>The mental power of exaggerating danger is limitless, and she could not +deny that her fear was playing tricks with her nerves. She knew that she +had done creditably under the strain of acute nervous tension, but she +felt also that much more of the same thing would be unendurable.</p> + +<p>Draycott came in to luncheon, and she was there to receive him, but even +to his careless eye, Clarice was oddly abstracted, and he glanced at her +curiously, wondering what it was that occupied her mind and made her +frown as she thought.</p> + +<p>She could not get away from the grip of her morning interview. Try as +she would, she could not shake it off. It caught her back in the middle +of her talk, made her answer at random, and held her with a terrible +power. She considered that there were a thousand other things she might +have said or done, a hundred ways by which she might have appealed to +Hartley, and yet her common sense told her that the less she said on the +subject the better it would be, if, in the end, the Rev. Francis Heath +was led into the awful pitfalls of cross-examination. Anyone may forget +and recall facts later, but to state facts that may be used as evidence +is to stand handcuffed before inexorable justice, and Mrs. Wilder had +left her hands free.</p> + +<p>"Is anything the matter?" Draycott jerked out the question as he got up +to leave the room. "You seem rather silent."</p> + +<p>Clarice laughed, and her laugh was slightly forced.</p> + +<p>"I went for a ride this morning, and met Mr. Hartley. He is the most +exhausting man I ever met."</p> + +<p>"I hope you told him so," said Wilder shortly. "He's about here +frequently enough, even though he <i>does</i> bore you."</p> + +<p>Something in his voice made her eyes focus him very clearly and +distinctly.</p> + +<p>"I have a very good mind to tell him," she said easily, "but he is +blessed with a skin that would turn the edge of any ordinary hatchet; he +would think I was merely being 'funny.'"</p> + +<p>"It's an odd fact," said Draycott with a sneer in his eyes, "that +however much a woman complains of a man's stupidity, she will let him +hang about her, and make a grievance of it, until she sees fit to drop +him. When that moment arrives she can make him let go, and lower away +all right. Just now Hartley is hanging on quite perceptibly, and if it +entertains you to slang him behind his back, I suppose you will slang +him, but he won't drop off before you've done with him, Clarice, if I +know anything of your methods." Her face flushed and she began to look +angry. "Mind you, I don't object to Hartley. As you say, he's a fool, a +silly, trusting ass, the sort of man who is child's-play to a girl of +sixteen. If you must have a string of loafers to prove that your +attractions outwear <i>anno domini</i>, I must accept Hartley, and other +Hartleys, so long as you continue to play the same game. <i>Hartleys</i>, I +said, Clarice."</p> + +<p>There was no doubt about the emphasis he laid upon the name.</p> + +<p>"You flatter Mr. Hartley considerably," she said, but her voice was +conciliatory and her laugh nervous.</p> + +<p>"He represents a type; a type that some married men may be thankful +continues to exist. God!" he broke out violently, "if he could hear you +talk of him, it would be a lesson to the fool, but he won't hear you. No +man ever does hear these things until the knowledge comes too late to be +of any use to him. You have got to have your strings"—he shrugged his +shoulders—"because your life isn't here, in this house; it is at the +Club, and at dinners and races and so on, and to be left to your +husband is the beginning of the end. Don't deny it, Clarice, it's no +earthly use. Women like you have your own ideas of life, I suppose, and +I ought to be thankful they're no worse."</p> + +<p>He stood by the door all the time he spoke, and his colourless face and +pale eyes never altered.</p> + +<p>"You're talking absolute nonsense," said Mrs. Wilder, preserving an +amiable tone. "We <i>have</i> to entertain, Draycott, and you can't round on +me for what I have done for years. It has helped you on, and you know +it."</p> + +<p>"I wasn't talking of that," he said drearily. "I was talking of you. +You're getting old, for a woman, Clarice, and when you're worried, as +you are to-day, you show it; though how an imbecile like Hartley got at +you to the extent of making you worried, I don't pretend to guess."</p> + +<p>"Old," she said angrily. "You aren't troubling to be particularly +polite."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm damnably truthful; just because it makes me wonder at you all +the more. You can go on smiling at any number of idiots, because you +must have the applause, I suppose. You don't even believe in it—<i>now</i>."</p> + +<p>His allusion was definite, and Mrs. Wilder felt about in her mind for +some way to change the conversation. Quagmires are bad ground for +walking, and she was in a hurry to reach <i>terra firma</i> again. She came +round the table and slipped her arm through his.</p> + +<p>"After all these years. Draycott—be a little generous."</p> + +<p>If she had fought him, some deep, hidden anger in his cold heart would +have flared up, but her gesture softened him and he patted her hand.</p> + +<p>"I know," he said slowly. "Only I can't quite forget. I simply can't, +Clarice."</p> + +<p>She smiled at him and touched his face with a light hand.</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell you why? Because even if I am old—and thirty-six isn't so +very dreadful—you are still in love with me."</p> + +<p>She went with him to the door and smiled as he drove away, smiled and +waved as he reappeared round a distant bend, and watched him return her +signal, and then she went back into the large drawing-room and her face +grew grey and pinched, and she sat with her chin propped on her hands, +thinking.</p> + +<p>She had proved that there are more fools in the world than those who go +about disguised as Heads of Police, and had added another specimen to +the general list, but she found no mirth in the idea as she considered +it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="X" id="X" />X</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH CRAVEN JOICEY IS OVERCOME BY A SUDDEN INDISPOSITION, AND +HARTLEY, WITHOUT LOOKING FOR HIM, FINDS THE MAN HE WANTED</h3> + + +<p>It seemed to Hartley that Fate had dealt very hardly with him. He was +interested in the case of the boy Absalom, and he felt that the +possibility of clearing it up was well within reach, and then he found +himself face to face with an unpleasant and painful duty.</p> + +<p>All his gregarious sociable nature cried out against any act that would +cause a scandal in Mangadone, the magnitude of which he could hardly +gauge but only guess at; and yet, wherever he went, the thought haunted +him. His feelings gave him no rest, and he remained inactive and +listless for several days after his ride with Mrs. Wilder. If she had +told him that she implored him personally to drop the case he could not +have felt more certain that she desired him to do so. She worked +indirectly upon his feelings, a much surer way with some natures than a +direct appeal, and the thought brought something akin to misery into the +mind and heart of the police officer.</p> + +<p>Absalom had gone, leaving no visible footprint to indicate whither he +had vanished, but the inexorable detail of circumstance after +circumstance led on to a very definite conclusion. The wooden figure +outside the curio dealer's shop pointed up his master's steps, and did +no one any wrong, but the awful fixed finger of changeless fact +indicated the creeper-covered bungalow of the Rev. Francis Heath.</p> + +<p>Hartley sat in his room, his elbows on the writing-table, and stared out +before him. A sluicing shower had come up suddenly, obscuring all the +brightness of the day, and the eaves of the veranda dripped mournfully +with a sound like the patter of a thousand tiny feet; the patter sounded +like the falling of tears, and he wondered if Heath, too, listened to +the light persistent noise, and read into it the footsteps of departing +hopes and lost ideals, or merely all the terrible monotonous detail that +preceded an act that was a crime.</p> + +<p>Hartley had dealt considerably with criminal cases, but never with +anything the least like the case of the boy Absalom, and the +speculations that came across his mind were new to him. He realized that +a criminal of the class of the Rev. Francis Heath is a criminal who is +driven slowly, inch by inch, into action, and each inch given only at +the cost of blood and tears. It was little short of ghastly to consider +what Heath must have gone through and suffered, and what he still must +suffer, and must continue to suffer as he went along the dark loneliness +of the awful road into which he had turned.</p> + +<p>People who have pity and to spare for the murdered body, or for the dupe +who has suffered plunder, think very little of the agony of mind and +the horror of the man who has held a good position, secure and honoured, +and who falls into the bottomless abyss of crime and detection. Hartley +had never considered it before. He was on the side of law and order, and +he was incapable of even dimly visualizing any condition of affairs that +could force him into illegal action, and yet he felt in the darkness +after some comprehension of the mind of the Rector of St. Jude's Parish +Church.</p> + +<p>The rain passed over, and the veranda was crossed with strips of yellow +sunlight, the pale washed sunlight of a wet evening, and still the drip +from the eaves fell intermittently with its melancholy noise, so softly +now, as hardly to be heard, and Hartley got up, and, putting on his hat, +walked across the scrunching wet gravel, and out on to the road, making +his way towards the Club.</p> + +<p>Far away, gleams of light lay soft over the trees of the park, the green +sad light that is only seen in damp atmospheres. There was no gladness +in the day, only a sense of deficiency and sorrow, even in its lingering +beauty; and the lake that reflected the trees and the sky was deadly +still, with a brooding, waiting stillness. Hartley stopped as he went +towards the further gates of the park, and watched the glassy +reflections with troubled eyes. No breeze touched the woods into +movement, and the long, yellow bars of evening light were full of dim +stillness. The very lifelessness of it affected Hartley strangely. +Except where, here and there, a flash of the low sunset caught the +water, the whole prospect was motionless, and he stood like a man +spellbound by the mystery of its silence.</p> + +<p>Hartley had chosen the less frequented road through the Park, and there +was no one in sight when he had stopped to look at the pale sheet of +water with its mirrored reproduction of tree and sky. It held him +strangely, and he felt a curious tension of his nerves, as though +something was going to happen. The thought came, as such thoughts do +come, out of nowhere in particular, and yet Hartley waited with a sense +of discomfort.</p> + +<p>When he turned away angry at his own momentary folly, he stooped and +picked up a stone and threw it into the motionless beauty of the water, +breaking it into a quick splash, marring the clearness, and confusing +the straight, low band of gold cloud which broke under the widening +circles. As he stooped, a man had come into sight, walking with a slow, +heavy step, his eyes on the ground and his head bent. He came on with +dragging feet and a dull, mechanical walk, the walk of a man who is +tired in body and soul. He did not look at the lake, nor did he even see +Hartley, who turned towards him at once with sudden relief.</p> + +<p>When Hartley hailed him cheerfully, Joicey stopped dead and looked up, +staring at him as though he were an apparition. He took off his hat and +wiped his forehead.</p> + +<p>"Where did you spring from, Hartley?" he asked. "I did not see anyone +just now." There was more irritation than warmth in his greeting of the +police officer.</p> + +<p>"I was moonstruck by the edge of that confounded lake. It was so still +that it got on my nerves."</p> + +<p>"Nerves," said Joicey abruptly. "There's too much talk of nerves +altogether in these days."</p> + +<p>Joicey, like all large men with loud voices, was able to give an +impression of solidity that is very refreshing and reviving at times, +but, otherwise, Joicey was not looking entirely himself. He passed his +handkerchief over his face again and laughed dully.</p> + +<p>"You're going to the Club, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"I was going there, but now I'll join you and have a walk, if I may. +It's early for the Club yet."</p> + +<p>He turned and walked on beside the Banker, who appeared, if anything, +less in the humour for conversation than was usual with him. They left +the lake behind them, now a pallid gleam flecked with wavering light in +a circle of deep shadows that reached out from the margin.</p> + +<p>"Any news?" asked Hartley without enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"Not that I have heard."</p> + +<p>Silence fell again, and they walked out on to the road. Pools of +afternoon rain still lay here and there in the depressions, but Joicey +took no heed of them, and splashed on, staining his white trousers with +liquid mud.</p> + +<p>"By the way," he said, clearing his throat as though his words stuck +there, "have you heard anything more in connection with the +disappearance of that boy you were talking of the other evening?"</p> + +<p>Hartley did not reply for a moment, and just as he was about to speak, +Mrs. Wilder's car passed, and Mrs. Wilder leaned forward to smile at the +Head of the Police; a small buggy followed with some more friends of +Hartley's, and then another car, and the road was clear again.</p> + +<p>"I believe I am on the right track, but I don't like it, Joicey. I'm +damned if I do."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"It comes too close to home,"—Hartley spoke with a jerk. "A hateful +job—I thought I'd tell you—" He spoke in broken sentences, and his +words affected the Banker very perceptibly.</p> + +<p>"Can't you drop it?"</p> + +<p>Joicey came to a standstill, and his voice was lowered almost to a +whisper.</p> + +<p>"I wish to Heaven I could, but it's a question of duty,"—he could +hardly see Joicey's face in the gathering gloom. "I suppose you guess +what I'm driving at, Joicey, though how you guess, I don't know."</p> + +<p>"I think I'll say good night here, Hartley,"—the Banker's voice was +unnatural and wavering. "I can't discuss it with you. It's got to be +proved," he spoke more heatedly. "What have you got? Only the word of a +stinking native. I tell you it's monstrous." He stopped and clutched +Hartley's arm, and seemed as though he was staggering.</p> + +<p>"What has come over you, Joicey; are you ill?"</p> + +<p>"I'll sit down here for a moment,"—Joicey walked towards a low wall. +"Sometimes I get these attacks. I'm better after they are over. Better, +much better. Leave me here to go back by myself, Hartley. You need have +no fear, I'm over it now; I'll rest for a little and then go my way +quickly. Believe me, I'd rather be alone."</p> + +<p>Very reluctantly, Hartley quitted him. He felt that Joicey was ill, and +might even be beginning the horrible phase of "breaking up," which comes +on with such fatal speed in a tropical climate. He went back after he +had gone a mile along the road, but Joicey was no longer there. It was +too late to think of going to the Club, for the road that Joicey and +Hartley had followed led away from the residential quarter of Mangadone, +and he disliked the idea of going back to his own bungalow and waiting +through the dismal hour that lies across the evening between the time to +come in and the time to dress for dinner.</p> + +<p>Had there been a friendly house near, Hartley would have gone in on the +chance of finding someone at home, but as there was not, he made the +best of existing circumstances and took his way along the road towards +his own bungalow. He could not deny that his walk with Joicey had only +served to depress his spirits, and he was sorry to think that his friend +was so obviously in bad health. The world seemed an uncomfortable place, +full of gloomy surprises, and Hartley wished that he had a wife to go +back to. Not a superb being like Mrs. Wilder, who was encircled by the +halo of High Romance, but just an ordinary wife, with a friendly smile +and a way of talking about everyday things while she darned socks. +Somewhere in his domestic heart Hartley considered sock-mending a +beautiful and symbolic act, and yet he could not picture Mrs. Wilder +occupied in such a fashion.</p> + +<p>A man with a wife to go back to is never at the same loose end as a man +who has no need ever to be punctual for a solitary meal, and Hartley +walked quickly because he wanted to get clear of his depression, rather +than for any reason that compelled him to be up to time.</p> + +<p>The gathering darkness drew out the flare over the city, and, here and +there, lamps dotted the road, until, turning up a short cut, he was into +the region of trams once more. The lighted cars, filled with gay Burmese +and soldiers from the British Regiment, and European-clad, dark-skinned +creatures of mixed races, looked cheerful and encouraged to better +thoughts. Hartley crossed the busy thoroughfare below the Pagoda steps +and went on quickly, for he recognized the outline of Mhtoon Pah on his +way to burn amber candles before his newly-erected shrine. He was in no +mood to talk to the curio dealer just then, and he avoided him carefully +and plunged down a tree-bowered road that led to the bridge, and from +the bridge to the hill-rise where his own gate stood open.</p> + +<p>It pleased him to see that lamps were lighted in the house, and he felt +conscious that he was hungry, and would be glad of dinner; he made up +his mind to do himself well and rout the tormenting thoughts that +pursued him, and to-morrow he would see Francis Heath and have the whole +thing put on paper once and for all. He even whistled as he came along +the short drive and under the portico, where a night-scented flower +smelt strong and sweet. His boy met him with the information that there +was a Sahib within waiting. A Sahib who had evidently come to stay, for +a strange-looking servant in the veranda rose and salaamed, and sat down +again by his master's kit with the patience of a man who looks out upon +eternity.</p> + +<p>Hartley hardly glanced at the servant. Visitors, tumbling from anywhere, +were not altogether unusual occurrences. Men on the way back from a +shoot in the jungles of Upper Burma, men who were old school friends and +were doing a leisurely tour to Japan and America, men of his own +profession who had leave to dispose of; all or any of these might arrive +with a servant and a portmanteau. Whoever it was, Hartley was +predisposed to give him a welcome. He had come just when he was wanted, +and he hurried in, a light of pleasure in his blue eyes.</p> + +<p>Near the lamp, a book of verses open on his knee, sat Hartley's +unexpected guest. He was slim, dark, and vital, but where his arresting +note of vitality lay would have been hard to explain. No one can tell +exactly what it is that marks one man as a courageous man, and another +as a coward, and yet, without need of any test, these things may be +known and judged beforehand. The man whose eyes followed the lines:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"They say the Lion and the Lizard keep<br /></span> +<span>The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep"—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>was as distinctive as he well could be, and yet his face was not +expressive. His dark, narrow eyes were dull, and his finely-cut features +small and perfect, rather than bold and strong; his long hands were the +hands of a woman more than those of a man, and his figure was slight to +boyishness.</p> + +<p>When Hartley let his full joy express itself in husky, cheery words of +surprise, his visitor said very little, but what he did say was spoken +in a pleasant, low voice.</p> + +<p>"Coryndon," said Hartley again. "Of all men on earth I wanted to see you +most. You've done what you always do, come in the 'nick.'"</p> + +<p>Coryndon smiled, a languid, half-amused gleam of mirth.</p> + +<p>"I am only passing through, my job is finished."</p> + +<p>"But you'll stay for a bit?"</p> + +<p>"You said just now that I was here in the 'nick'; if the nick is +interesting, I'll see."</p> + +<p>"I'll go and arrange about your rooms," said Hartley, and he appeared +twice his normal size beside his guest, as a St. Bernard might look +standing by a greyhound. "We will talk afterwards."</p> + +<p>Coryndon watched him go out without change of expression, and, sliding +back into his chair, took up his book again.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"They say the Lion and the Lizard keep<br /></span> +<span>The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Coryndon leaned back and half closed his eyes; the words seemed potent, +as with a spell, and he called up a vision of the forsaken Palace where +wild things lived and where revels were long forgotten—solitude and +ruin that no one ever crossed to explore or to see—with the eyes of a +man who can rebuild a mighty past. Solitude in the halls and marble +stairways, ruin of time in the fretted screens, and broken cisterns +holding nothing but dry earth. Nothing there now but the lion and the +lizard, not even the ghost of a light footfall, or the tinkle of glass +bangles on a rounded arm.</p> + +<p>Coryndon had almost forgotten Hartley when he came back, flushed and +pleased, and full of a host's anxiety about his guest's welfare.</p> + +<p>"I hope you haven't been bored?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Coryndon, touching the book, "I've been amusing myself in my +own way," and he followed Hartley out of the room.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XI" id="XI" />XI</h2> + +<h3>SHOWS HOW THE "WHISPER FROM THE DAWN OF LIFE" ENABLES CORYNDON TO TAKE +THE DRIFTING THREADS BETWEEN HIS FINGERS</h3> + + +<p>Very probably Hartley believed that he knew "all about" Coryndon; he +knew at least, that the Government of India looked upon him as the best +man they had to unravel the most intricate case that murder or forgery, +coining or fraud of any sort, could tangle into mysterious knots. +Coryndon had intuition and patience, and once he undertook a case he +followed it through to the ultimate conclusion; and so it was that +Coryndon stood alone, a department in himself, possibly aided by the +police and the shadower, but capable of discovering anything, once he +bent his mind to the business of elucidation.</p> + +<p>Beyond the fact that he had been born somewhere in a jungle clearing in +Upper Burma, and that at ten years old he had gone to India to a school +in the Hills, then had vanished for years to reappear in the service of +the Government, his story was not known to anyone except himself. No one +doubted that he had "a touch of the country" in his blood. It displayed +itself in unmistakable physical traits, and his knowledge of its many +tongues and languages was the knowledge that first made him realize +that his future career lay in India.</p> + +<p>Colonel Coryndon, his father, died just as the boy was leaving school, +and left him a little money; just enough to keep him from the iron yoke +of clerkship, and to allow of his waiting for what he wanted. Behind his +dark eyes lived a brain that could concentrate with the grip of a vise +upon any subject that interested him, and he puzzled his masters at his +school. Coryndon was a curious mixture of imagination and strong common +sense; few realize that it is only the imaginative mind that can see +behind the curtain that divides life from life, and discern motives.</p> + +<p>He saw everything with an almost terrible clearness. Every detail of a +room, every line in a face, every shop in a street he walked through, +every man he spoke with, was registered in his indelible book of facts. +This, in itself, is not much. Men can learn the habit of observation as +they can train their minds to remember dates or historical facts, but, +in the case of Coryndon, this art was inherent and his by birth. He +started with it, and his later training of practising his odd capacity +for recalling the smallest detail of every day that passed only +intensified his power in this direction. With this qualification alone +he could have been immensely useful as a secret agent, but in addition +to this he had also his other gift, his intuition and power of altering +his own point of view for that of another man, and seeing his subject +through the eyes of everyone concerned in a question.</p> + +<p>His nervous vitality was great, and there were plenty of well-educated +native subordinates who believed him gifted with occult forces, since +his ways of getting at his astonishing conclusions were never explained +to any living soul, because Coryndon could not have explained them to +himself.</p> + +<p>His identity was well known at Headquarters, but beyond that limit it +was carefully hidden from the lower branches of the executive, as too +wide and too public recognition would have narrowed his sphere of +action. As Wesley declared the whole world to be his parish, so the +whole of Asia was Coryndon's sphere of action, and only at Headquarters +was it ever known where he actually might be found, or what employment +occupied his brain. He came like a rain-cloud blown up soundlessly on +the east wind, and vanished like morning mists, and no one knew what he +had learnt during his silent passing.</p> + +<p>Men with voices like brass trumpets praised and encouraged him, and men +who knew the dark byways of criminal investigation were hardly jealous +of him. Coryndon was a freak, an exception, a man who stood beyond +competition, and was as sure as he was mysterious. He was "explained" in +a dozen ways. His face, to begin with, made disguise easy, and the touch +of the country did much for him in this respect. He had played behind +his father's up-country bungalow with little Burmese boys and talked in +their speech before he knew any English; the Bazaar was an open book to +him, and the mind of the native, so some men said with a shade of +contempt, not too far from his own to make understanding impossible.</p> + +<p>Besides all this, there were those other years, after he left the school +under the high snow ranges, when Coryndon had vanished entirely, and of +these years he never spoke. And yet, with all this, Coryndon was +unmistakably a "Sahib," a man of unusual culture and brilliant ability. +He had complete powers of self-control, and his one passion was his love +of music, and though he never played for anyone else, men who had come +upon him unawares had heard him playing to himself in a way that was as +surprising as everything else about Coryndon surprised and astonished.</p> + +<p>He had dreamed as a boy, and he still dreamed as a man. The subtle +beauty of a line of verse led him into visionary habitations as fair as +any ever disclosed to poet or artist. He could lose himself utterly in +the lights and shadows of a passing day, while he watched for a doomed +man at the entrance of a temple, or brooded over painted sores and cried +to the rich for alms by a dusty roadside; a very different Coryndon to +the Coryndon who looked at Hartley across the white cloth of the round +dinner-table.</p> + +<p>The truth about Coryndon was that he read the souls of men. Mhtoon Pah +had boasted to Hartley that he read the walk of the world he looked at, +but Coryndon went much further; and as Hartley talked about outward +things, whilst the Boy and the <i>Khitmutghar</i> flitted in and out behind +them, carrying plates and dishes, his guest was considering him with a +quiet and almost moonstruck gravity of mind. He knew just how far +Hartley could go, and he knew exactly what blocked him. Hartley was tied +into the close meshes of circumstance; he argued from without and worked +inward, and Coryndon had discovered the flaw in this process before he +left his school.</p> + +<p>When they were alone at last, Hartley pushed his chair closer to +Coryndon and leaned forward.</p> + +<p>"One moment." Coryndon's voice was lowered slightly, and he strolled to +the door.</p> + +<p>"Boy," he called, and with amazing alacrity Hartley's servant appeared.</p> + +<p>"Tell my servant," he said, speaking in English, "that I want the cigar +tin."</p> + +<p>"Do you believe he was listening?"</p> + +<p>"I am sure of it."</p> + +<p>Hartley flushed angrily, and he was about to speak when Coryndon's man +came into the room, salaaming on the threshold, carrying a black tin.</p> + +<p>"Would you like a little stroll in the garden?" said Coryndon. "It would +be pleasant before we sit down," and Hartley followed him out.</p> + +<p>"Did you bring any cigars down?"</p> + +<p>Hartley spoke for the sake of saying something, more than for any +reasonable desire to know whether Coryndon had done so or not, and his +reply was a low, amused laugh.</p> + +<p>"In ten minutes Shiraz will do a little juggling for your servants," he +said placidly. "There are no cigars in the tin. I hope you didn't want +one, Hartley? He will probably tell them that I am a new arrival, +picked up by him at Bombay. Whatever he tells them, they will find him +amusing."</p> + +<p>A misty moonlight lighted the garden with a soft, yellow haze, and the +harsh rattling of night beetles sounded unusually loud and noisy in the +silence.</p> + +<p>"You said that you had just finished a job?"</p> + +<p>"I have, and now I am on leave. The Powers have given me four months, +and I am going to London to hear the Wagner Cycle. I promised myself +that long ago, and unless something very special crops up to prevent me, +I shall start in a week from now."</p> + +<p>They took another silent turn.</p> + +<p>"Did your last job work out?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It took a long time, but I got back into touch with things I had +begun to forget, and it was interesting. Shall we go back into the +house?"</p> + +<p>"Come in here," said Hartley, taking his way into the sitting-room. "I +have some notes in my safe that I want you to look at. The truth is, +Coryndon, I'm tackling rather a nasty business, and if you can help me, +I'll be eternally grateful to you. It has got on my nerves."</p> + +<p>Coryndon bowed his head silently and drew up a chair near the table. All +the time that Hartley talked to him, he listened with close attention. +The Head of the Police went into the whole subject at length, telling +the story as it had happened, and leaving out, so far as he knew, no +point that bore upon the question. First he told of the disappearance of +the boy Absalom, the grief and frantic despair of Mhtoon Pah, and his +visit to Hartley in the very room where they sat.</p> + +<p>"He was away from the curio shop that night, you say?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, at the Pagoda. He is building a shrine there. His statement to me +was that he went away just after dark, and the boy had already left an +hour before."</p> + +<p>Coryndon said nothing, but waited for the rest of the story, and, bit by +bit, Hartley set it before him.</p> + +<p>"Heath saw Absalom, and admitted it to me," he said, pulling at his +short, red moustache. "Even then he showed a very curious amount of +irritation, and refused to say anything further. Then he lied to me when +I went to the house, and there is Atkins' testimony to the fact that he +is paying a man to keep quiet."</p> + +<p>"Has the man reappeared since?"</p> + +<p>"Not since I had the house watched."</p> + +<p>Coryndon's eyes narrowed and he moved his hands slightly.</p> + +<p>"Next there is the very trifling evidence of Mrs. Wilder. It doesn't +count for much, but it goes to prove that she knows something of Heath +which she won't give away. She knows something, or she wouldn't screen +him. That is simple deduction."</p> + +<p>"Quite simple."</p> + +<p>"Now, with reference to Joicey," went on Hartley, with a frown. "I don't +personally think that Joicey knows or remembers whether he did see +Heath. My Superintendent swears that he did go down Paradise Street on +the night of the twenty-ninth, but Joicey is ill, and he said he wasn't +in Mangadone then. He has been seedy for some time and may have mixed up +dates."</p> + +<p>"You attach no importance to him?"</p> + +<p>"Practically none." Hartley leaned back in his chair and lighted a +cheroot.</p> + +<p>Coryndon touched the piece of silk rag with his hand.</p> + +<p>"This rag business is out of place, taken in connection with Heath."</p> + +<p>"I don't accuse Heath, Coryndon, but I believe that he <i>knows</i> where the +boy went. The last thing that was told me by Mhtoon Pah was that the +gold lacquer bowl that was ordered by Mrs. Wilder was found on the steps +of the shop. Though what that means, the devil only knows. Mhtoon Pah +considers it likely that the Chinaman, Leh Shin, put it there, but I +have absolutely nothing to connect Leh Shin with the disappearance, and +I have withdrawn the men who were watching the shop."</p> + +<p>"Interesting," said Coryndon slowly.</p> + +<p>"Can you give me any opinion? I'm badly in need of help."</p> + +<p>Coryndon shook his head, his hand still touching the stained rag idly.</p> + +<p>"I could give you none at all, on these facts."</p> + +<p>Hartley looked at him with a fixed and imploring stare.</p> + +<p>"In a place like this, to be the chief mover, the actual incentive to +disclosing God knows what, is simply horrible," he said in a rough, +pained voice. "I've done my share of work, Coryndon, and I've taken my +own risks, but any cases I've had against white men haven't been against +men like the Padré."</p> + +<p>Coryndon gave a little short sigh that had weariness in its sound, +weariness or impatience.</p> + +<p>"What you have told me involves three principals, and a score of +others." He was counting as he spoke. "Any one of them may be the man +you are looking for, only circumstances indicate one in particular. You +are satisfied that you have got the line. I could not confidently say +that you have, unless I had been working the case myself, and had +followed up every clue throughout."</p> + +<p>Hartley got up and paced the room, his hands deep in the pockets of his +dinner jacket.</p> + +<p>"I am convinced that Heath will have to be forced to speak, and, I may +as well be honest with you—I don't like forcing him."</p> + +<p>Coryndon was not watching his host, he was leaning back in his chair, +his eyes on a little spiral of smoke that circled up from his cigarette.</p> + +<p>"I wish that damned little Absalom had never been heard of, and that it +was anybody's business but mine to find him, if he is to be found."</p> + +<p>If Coryndon's finely-cut lips trembled into an instantaneous smile, it +passed almost at once, and he looked quietly round at Hartley, who still +paced, looking like an overgrown schoolboy in a bad mood.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could help you, Hartley, but I have not enough to go on. As +you say, the case is unusual, and it makes it impossible for me to +advise." He got up and stretched himself. "There is one thing I will +do, if you wish it, and, from what you said, you may wish it; I will +take over the whole thing—for my holiday, and the Wagner Cycle will +have to wait."</p> + +<p>Hartley came to a standstill before his guest.</p> + +<p>"You'll do that, Coryndon?"</p> + +<p>"The case interests me," said Coryndon, "otherwise, I should not suggest +it." He paused for a moment and reflected. "I shall have to make your +bungalow my headquarters; that is the simplest plan. Any absences may be +accounted for by shooting trips and that sort of thing. That part of it +is straightforward enough, and I can see the people I want to see."</p> + +<p>"You shall have a free hand to do anything you like," said Hartley. "And +any help that I can give you."</p> + +<p>Coryndon looked at him for a moment without replying.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Hartley. Our methods are different, as you know, but when I +want you, I will tell you how you can help me."</p> + +<p>He walked across the room to where two tumblers and a decanter of whisky +stood on a tray, and, pouring himself out a glass of soda water, sipped +it slowly.</p> + +<p>"Here are my notes," said Hartley, in a voice of great relief. "They +will be useful for reference."</p> + +<p>Coryndon folded them up and put them in his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Most of what is there is also in my official report."</p> + +<p>Coryndon nodded his head, and, opening the piano, struck a light chord. +After a moment he sat down and played softly, and the air he played came +straight from the high rocks that guard the Afghan frontier. Like a +breeze that springs up at evening, the little love-song lilted and +whispered under his compelling fingers, and the "Song of the Broken +Heart" sang itself in the room of Hartley, Head of the Police. Where it +carried Coryndon no one could guess, but it carried Hartley into a very +rose-garden of sentimental fatuity, and when the music stopped he gave a +deep grunting sigh of content.</p> + +<p>"I'll get some honest sleep to-night," he said as they parted, and ten +minutes afterwards he was lying under his mosquito-curtains, oblivious +to the world.</p> + +<p>Coryndon's servant, Shiraz, was squatting across the door that led into +the veranda when his master came in, and he waited for his orders. He +would have sat anywhere for weeks, and had done so, to await the +doubtful coming of Coryndon, whose times and seasons no man knew.</p> + +<p>When he was gone, Coryndon took out the bulky packet of notes and +extracted the piece of rag, which he locked carefully away in a +dispatch-box. He then cleared a little space on the floor, and put the +papers lightly over one another. Setting a match to them, he watched +them light up and curl into brittle tinder, and dissolve from that stage +into a heap of charred ashes, which he gathered up with a careful hand +and put into the soft earth of a fern-box outside his veranda door. This +being done, he sat down and began to think steadily, letting the names +drift through his brain, one by one, until they sorted themselves, and +he felt for the most useful name to take first.</p> + +<p>"Joicey, the Banker, is a man of no importance," he murmured to himself, +and again he said, "Joicey the Banker."</p> + +<p>It was nearly dawn when he got between the cool linen sheets, and was +asleep almost as his dark head lay back against the soft white pillow.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XII" id="XII" />XII</h2> + +<h3>SHOWS HOW A MAN MAY CLIMB A HUNDRED STEPS INTO A PASSIONLESS PEACE, AND +RETURN AGAIN TO A WORLD OF SMALL TORMENTS</h3> + + +<p>By the end of a week Coryndon had slipped into the ways of Mangadone, +slipped in quietly and without causing much comment. He went to the Club +with Hartley and made the acquaintance of nearly all his host's friends, +and they, in return, gave him the casual notice accorded to a passing +stranger who had no part or lot in their lives or interests. Coryndon +was very quiet and listened to everything; he listened to a great deal +in the first three days, and Fitzgibbon, a barrister, offered to take +him round and show him the town.</p> + +<p>Coryndon was "shown the town," but apparently he found a lasting joy in +sight-seeing, and could witness the same sights repeatedly without +failing interest. He climbed the steps to the Pagoda, under the guidance +of Fitzgibbon, the first afternoon they met.</p> + +<p>"Won't you come, too, Hartley?" asked the Barrister.</p> + +<p>"Not if I know it. I've been there about sixty times. If Coryndon wants +to see it, I'm thankful to let him go there with you."</p> + +<p>Fitzgibbon, who had a craze for borrowing anything that he was likely +to want, had persuaded Prescott, the junior partner in a rice firm, to +lend him his car, and as he sat in the tonneau beside Coryndon, he +pointed out the places of interest. Their way lay first through the +residential quarter, and Hartley's guest saw the entrance gate and +gardens of Draycott Wilder's house.</p> + +<p>"The most interesting and certainly the best-looking woman in Mangadone +lives there, a Mrs. Wilder. Hartley ought to have told you about her; he +is rather favoured by the lady. Her husband is a rising civilian. Mrs. +Wilder has bought Asia, and is wondering whether she'll buy Europe +next."</p> + +<p>Coryndon hardly appeared impressed or even interested.</p> + +<p>"So she is a friend of Hartley's?" he said carelessly. "I hadn't heard +that."</p> + +<p>Fitzgibbon laughed.</p> + +<p>"It's something to be a friend of Mrs. Wilder—that is, in Mangadone."</p> + +<p>They sped on over the level road, and the car swung through the streets +that led towards the open space before the temple.</p> + +<p>"That is the curio dealer's shop. Don't get any of your stuff there. The +man's a robber."</p> + +<p>"Which shop?" asked Coryndon patiently.</p> + +<p>"We're past it now, but it was the one with a dancing man outside of it, +a funny little effigy."</p> + +<p>Coryndon's eyes were turned to the Pagoda, and he was evidently +inattentive.</p> + +<p>"It strikes you, doesn't it?" asked Fitzgibbon, in the tones of a +gratified showman. "It always does strike people who haven't seen it +before."</p> + +<p>"Naturally, when one has not seen it before," echoed his companion, as +the car drew up.</p> + +<p>Coryndon stood for a moment looking at the entrance, and surveying the +huge plaster dragons with their gaping mouths and vermilion-red tongues. +They were ranged up a green slope, two on either side of the brown +fretted roof that covered the steep tunnel that led up a flight of more +than a hundred steps to the flat plateau, where the golden spire towered +high over all, amid a crowd of lesser minarets.</p> + +<p>Surrounded by baskets of roses and orchids, little silk-clothed Burmese +girls sat on the entrance steps, and sold their wares. Fitzgibbon would +have hurried on, but Coryndon, in true tripper fashion, stopped and +bought an armful of blossoms.</p> + +<p>"What am I to do with these things?" he asked helplessly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you'd better leave them before one of the <i>Gaudamas</i>, and acquire +merit. If you let them all plunder you like this, we'll never get to the +top."</p> + +<p>Flight after flight, the two men climbed slowly, and Coryndon stood at +intervals to watch the crowd that came up and down. The steps were so +steep that the arch above them only disclosed descending feet, but +Coryndon watched the feet appear first and then the rest of the hurrying +or loitering men and women, and he sat on a seat beside a little +gathering of yellow-robed <i>Hypongyis</i> until Fitzgibbon lost all +patience.</p> + +<p>"There is a whole town of piety to see up at the top. Come on, man; we +have hours of it yet to get through. Don't waste time over those stalls. +Every picture of the Buddha story was made in Birmingham."</p> + +<p>Progressing a little faster, Fitzgibbon piloted Coryndon past a stall +where yellow candles and bundles of joss-sticks in red paper cases were +sold at a varying price.</p> + +<p>"I must get some of these," objected Coryndon, who added a rupee's worth +of incense and a white cheroot to his collection.</p> + +<p>When they passed through the last archway and gained the plateau, he +looked round with eyes that spoke his keen interest. Even though he had +been there many times before, Coryndon looked at the sight with eyes +that grew shadowed by the dreaming soul that lived within him.</p> + +<p>Twilight was gathering behind the trees; only the gold-laced spires of a +thousand minarets caught the last light of the sun. On the plateau below +the great pillar, that glimmered like a golden sword from base to +bell-hung <i>Htee</i>, lay what Fitzgibbon had described as "a little town of +piety." A village of shrines and Pagodas, each built with seven roofs, +open-fronted to disclose the holy place within; some large as a small +chapel; some small, giving room only for the figure of the <i>Gaudama</i>. +Here and there, the votive offerings had fallen into decay, and the +gold-leaf covering the Buddha was black and dilapidated by the passing +of years, for there is no merit to be acquired in rebuilding or +renovating a sacred place. From innumerable shrines, uncounted Buddhas +looked out with the same long, contemplative eyes; in bronze, in jade, +in white and black marble, in grey stone and gilded ebony, the +passionless face of the great Peace looked out upon his children.</p> + +<p>Near to where Coryndon and the Barrister stood together, in the +peach-coloured evening light, a large shrine with a fretted roof was +thronged with worshippers, and Coryndon stood on the steps and looked +in. The floor of black, polished marble dimly reflected the immense gold +pillars that supported a lofty ceiling, lost entirely in the gloom, and +before a blaze of candles and a floating veil of scented grey smoke a +priest bowed himself, and prayed in a low, chanting voice. The face of +the Lord Buddha behind the rails was lighted by the wind-blown flame of +many tapers, so that it almost looked as though he smiled out of his +far-away Nirvana upon his kneeling worshippers, who could ask nothing of +him, not even mercy, since the salvation of a man is in his own hands.</p> + +<p>Before the rails, a settle with low gilt legs was covered with offerings +of flowers, that added their scent to the heavy air, and on a small +table a feast of cakes and sweets was placed, to be distributed later on +among the poor. Coryndon disposed of his burden of pink and white roses +and little magenta prayer-flags, and lighted a bundle of joss-sticks, +before they came out again and wandered on.</p> + +<p>As the daylight faded the lights from the shrines and the small booths +grew stronger, and the rising night wind, coming in from the river, rang +the silver bells around the spires, filling the whole air with tinkling +sound, and the slow-moving crowd around them laughed and joked, like +people at a fair. His eyes still full of dreams, Coryndon followed with +them, keeping one small packet of amber candles to light in honour of +some other Buddha in another shrine.</p> + +<p>"Funny devils, these Burmese," remarked the Barrister. "They never clean +up anything. Look at the years of tallow collected under that spiked +gate that is falling off its hinges. That black little Buddha inside +must once have been a popular favourite, but no one gives him anything +now."</p> + +<p>They turned a corner past a booth where bottles full of pink and yellow +fluid, and green leaves, wrapped around betel-nut, appeared to be the +chief stock-in-trade, and a noise of hammering struck on their ears. +Here a new shrine was being erected and was all but completed. A few +Chinamen, who had been working at it, were putting their tools into +canvas bags, preparatory to withdrawing like the remaining daylight.</p> + +<p>"This is Mhtoon Pah's edifice," said Fitzgibbon, coming to a standstill. +"He doesn't seem to have spared expense, either. Shall we go in?"</p> + +<p>The shrine was not a very large one, and the entrance was like the +entrance to a grotto at an Exhibition. Tiny facets of glass were crusted +into grass-green cement, shining like a thousand eyes, and, seated on a +vermilion lacquer daïs, a Buddha, with heavy eyelids that hid his +strange eyes, presided over an illumination of smoking flame. The smell +of joss-sticks was heavy on the air, and the filigree cloak worn by the +Buddha was enriched with red and green glass that shone and glittered.</p> + +<p>"They say the caste-mark in his forehead is a real diamond," remarked +the Barrister. "I don't suppose it is, but at least it is a good +imitation."</p> + +<p>Coryndon was not listening to him; he had gone close to the marble +rails, and was lighting his little bunch of yellow tapers. He lighted +them one by one, and put each one down on the floor very slowly and +carefully, and when he had finished he turned round.</p> + +<p>"Mhtoon Pah is the man who has the curio shop?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"The very same. It gives you some idea of his percentage on sales, +what?"</p> + +<p>Coryndon joined in his laugh, and they went out again into the street of +sanctity. Fitzgibbon was now getting exhausted, for his companion's +desire to "do" the Pagoda was apparently insatiable; and he asked +interminable questions that the Barrister was totally unable to answer.</p> + +<p>Coryndon seemed to find something fresh and interesting around every +corner. The white elephants delighted him, particularly where green +creepers had grown round their trunks, giving them a realistic effect of +enjoying a meal. The handles off very common English chests-of-drawers, +that were set along a rail enclosing a sleeping Buddha, pleased him like +a child, as did the bits of looking-glass with "Black and White Whisky," +or "Apollinaris Water," inscribed across their faces.</p> + +<p>"That sort of thing seems to attract them," explained Fitzgibbon. "In +one of the shrines there is a fancy biscuit-box at a Buddha's feet. It +has got 'Huntley and Palmer' on the top, and pictures of children and +swans all around it. Funny devils, I always say so."</p> + +<p>At length he had to drag Coryndon away, almost by main force.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to have seen Mhtoon Pah," he objected. "He ought to be on view +with his chapel."</p> + +<p>"Shrine, Coryndon. You can see him in his shop," and they began the +descent down the steep steps.</p> + +<p>"Look," said the Barrister quickly, "there is Mhtoon Pah. No, not the +man in white trousers, that's a Chinaman with a pigtail under his hat; +the fat old thing in the short silk <i>loongyi</i> and crimson head-scarf."</p> + +<p>Coryndon hardly glanced at him, as he passed with a scent of spice and +sandal-wood in his garments; his attention had been attracted by a booth +where men were eating curry.</p> + +<p>"It is a curious custom to sell food in a place like this," he remarked +to the Barrister.</p> + +<p>"It's part of the Oriental mind," replied his guide. "No one understands +it. No one ever will; so don't try and begin, or you'll wear yourself +out."</p> + +<p>When they got back to the Club it was already late, and the hall of the +bar was crowded with men, standing together in groups, or sitting in +long, uncompromising chairs under the impression that they were +comfortable seats.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Joicey," said the Barrister, as he fell over his legs. "I'm +dog-beat. Been doing the Pagoda with Coryndon. Do you know each +other—?" He waved his hand by way of introduction, and Coryndon took an +empty chair beside the Banker, who heaved himself up a little in his +seat, and signalled to a small boy in white, who was scuffling with +another small boy, also in white, and ordered some drinks.</p> + +<p>"I am new to it," explained Coryndon, and his voice sounded tired, as +though the Pagoda had been a little too much for him.</p> + +<p>Joicey did not reply; he was looking away, and Coryndon followed his +eyes. Near the wide staircase, and just about to go up it, a man was +standing, talking to a friend. He was dressed in an ill-cut suit of +white, with a V-shaped inlet of black under his round collar; he held a +<i>topi</i> of an old pattern under his arm, and the light showed his face +cadaverous and worn. Joicey was holding the arm of his chair, and his +under-lip trembled.</p> + +<p>"Inexplicable," he muttered, and drank with a gulping sound.</p> + +<p>"What did you say?" asked Coryndon politely.</p> + +<p>"Say? Did I say anything? I can't remember that I did." The Banker's +voice was irritable, and he still watched the clergyman.</p> + +<p>"What strikes me about the Pagoda is the strong Chinese element in the +design. I am told that there are a lot of Chinamen in Mangadone. I +should like to see their quarter."</p> + +<p>"Hartley should be able to arrange that for you."</p> + +<p>Joicey was evidently growing tired of Coryndon's freshness and +enthusiasm, and he passed his hand over his face, as though the damp +heat of the night depressed his mind.</p> + +<p>"Hartley is very busy," said Coryndon, with the determination of a man +who intends to see what he has come to see. "I don't like to be +perpetually badgering him. Could I go alone?"</p> + +<p>"You could," said Joicey shortly.</p> + +<p>"I want to miss nothing."</p> + +<p>Coryndon turned his head away and looked at the crowded room, fixing his +gaze on a whirring fan that hung low on a brass rod, and when he looked +round again, Joicey had got up and was making his way out into the +night. Fitzgibbon was surrounded by several other men, and there was no +sign of his friend Hartley, so he got up and slipped out, standing +hatless, until his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness.</p> + +<p>The strong lights from the veranda encroached some way into the gloom, +and, here and there, a few people still sat around basket tables, +enjoying the evening air. Coryndon looked at them, with his head bent +forward, a little like a cat just about to emerge through a door into a +dark passage. For a little time, he stood there, watching and listening, +and then he turned away and walked out along the footpath, as though in +a hurry to get back to his bungalow.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII" />XIII</h2> + +<h3>PUTS FORWARD THE FACT THAT A SUDDEN FRIENDSHIP NEED NOT BE BASED UPON A +SUDDEN LIKING; AND PASSES THE NIGHT UNTIL DAWN REVEALS A SHAMEFUL SECRET</h3> + + +<p>Some ten days after Coryndon had taken up his quarters with Hartley, he +informed his host that he intended to disappear for a time, and that he +would take his servant, Shiraz, with him. He had been through every +quarter of Mangadone before he set out to commence operations, and the +whole town lay clear as a map in his mind.</p> + +<p>Hartley was dining out, "dining at the Wilders'," he said casually, and +he further informed Coryndon that Mrs. Wilder had asked him to bring his +friend, but no amount of persuasion could induce Coryndon to forgo an +evening by himself. He pointed out to Hartley that he never went into +society, and that he found it a strain on his mind when he required to +think anything through, and, with a greater show of reluctance than he +really felt, Hartley conceded to his wish, and Coryndon sat down to a +solitary meal. He ate very sparingly and drank plain soda water, and +whilst he sat at the table his long, yellow-white fingers played on the +cloth, and his eyes followed the swaying punkah mat with an odd, +intense light in their inscrutable depths.</p> + +<p>He had made Hartley understand that he never talked over a case, and +that he followed it out entirely according to his own ideas, and Hartley +honestly respected his reserve, making no effort to break it.</p> + +<p>"When the hands are full, something falls to the ground and is lost," +Coryndon murmured to himself as he got up and went to his room. +"Shiraz," he called, "Shiraz," and the servant sprang like a shadow from +the darkness in response to his master's summons.</p> + +<p>"To-night I go out." Coryndon waved his hand. "To-morrow I go out, and +of the third day—I cannot tell. Let it be known to the servant people +that, like all travelling Sahibs, I wish to see the evil of the great +city. I may return with the morning, but it may be that I shall be +late."</p> + +<p>"<i>Inshallah, Huzoor</i>," murmured Shiraz, bowing his head, "what is the +will of the Master?"</p> + +<p>"A rich man is marked among his kind; where he goes the eyes of all men +turn to follow his steps, but the poor man is as a grain of sand in the +dust-storm of a Northern Province. Great are the blessings of the humble +and needy of the earth, for like the wind in its passing, they are +invisible to the eyes of men."</p> + +<p>Shiraz made no response; he lowered the green chicks outside the doors +and windows, and opened a small box, battered with age and wear.</p> + +<p>"The servant's box is permitted to remain in the room of the Lord +Sahib," he said with a low chuckle. "When asked of my effrontery in this +matter, I reply that the Lord Sahib is ignorant, that he minds not the +dignity of his condition, and behold, it is never touched, though the +leathern box of the Master has been carefully searched by Babu, the +butler of Hartley Sahib, who knows all that lies folded therein."</p> + +<p>While he spoke he was busy unwrapping a collection of senah bundles, +which he took out from beneath a roll of dusters and miscellaneous +rubbish, carefully placed on the top. The box had no lock and was merely +fastened with a bit of thick string, tied into a series of cunning +knots.</p> + +<p>When he had finished unpacking, he laid a faded strip of +brightly-coloured cotton on the bed, in company with a soiled jacket and +a tattered silk head-scarf, and, as Shiraz made these preparations, +Coryndon, with the aid of a few pigments in a tin box, altered his face +beyond recognition. He wore his hair longer than that of the average +man, and, taking his hair-brushes, he brushed it back from his temples +and tied a coarse hank of black hair to it, and knotted it at the back +of his head. He dressed quickly, his slight, spare form wound round the +hips with a cotton <i>loongyi</i>, and he pulled on the coat over a thin, +ragged vest, and sat down, while Shiraz tied the handkerchief around his +head.</p> + +<p>The art of make-up is, in itself, simple enough, but the very much more +subtle art of expression is the gift of the very few. It was hard to +believe that the slightly foreign-looking young man with Oriental eyes +could be the pock-marked, poverty-stricken Burman who stood in his +place.</p> + +<p>Slipping on a light overcoat, he pulled a large, soft hat over his head, +and walked out quickly through the veranda.</p> + +<p>"Now, then, Shiraz," he called out in a quick, ill-tempered voice. "Come +along with the lamp. Hang it; you know what I mean, the <i>butti</i>. These +infernal garden-paths are alive with snakes."</p> + +<p>Shiraz hastened after him, cringing visibly, and swinging a hurricane +lamp as he went. When they had got clear of the house and were near the +gate, Coryndon spoke to him in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"Pull my boots off my feet." Shiraz did as he was bidden and slipped his +master's feet into the leather sandals which he carried under his wide +belt. "Now take the coat and hat, and in due time I shall return, though +not by day. Let it be known that to-morrow we take our journey of seven +days; and it may be that to-morrow we shall do so."</p> + +<p>"<i>Inshallah</i>," murmured Shiraz, and returned to the house.</p> + +<p>By night the streets of Mangadone were a sight that many legitimate +trippers had turned out to witness. The trams were crowded and the +native shops flared with light, for the night is cool and the day hot +and stifling; therefore, by night a large proportion of the inhabitants +of Mangadone take their pleasure out of doors. In the Berlin Café the +little tables were crowded with those strange anomalies, black men and +women in European clothes. There had been a concert in the Presentation +Hall, and the audience nearly all reassembled at the Berlin Café for +light refreshments when the musical programme was concluded.</p> + +<p>Paradise Street was not behindhand in the matter of entertainment: there +was a wedding festival in progress, and, at the modest café, a thick +concourse of men talking and singing and enjoying life after their own +fashion; only the house of Mhtoon Pah, the curio dealer, was dark, and +it was before this house, close to the figure of the pointing man, that +the weedy-looking Burman who had come out of Hartley's compound stopped +for a moment or two. He did not appear to find anything to keep him +there; the little man had nothing better to offer him than a closed +door, and a closed door is a definite obstacle to anyone who is not a +housebreaker, or the owner with a key in his pocket; so, at least, the +Burman seemed to think, for he passed on up the street towards the river +end.</p> + +<p>From there to the colonnade where the Chinese Quarter began was a +distance of half a by-street, and Coryndon slid along, apologetically +close to the wall. He avoided the policeman in his blue coat and high +khaki turban, and his manner was generally inoffensive and harmless as +he sneaked into the low entrance of Leh Shin's lesser curio shop. A +large coloured lantern hung outside the inner room, and a couple of +candles did honour to the infuriated Joss who capered in colour on the +wall.</p> + +<p>All the hidden vitality of the man seemed to live in every line of his +lithe body as he looked in, but it subsided again as he entered, and he +stared vacantly around him.</p> + +<p>There was no one in the shop but Leh Shin's assistant, who was finishing +a meal of cold pork, and whose heavy shoulders worked with his jaws. He +ceased both movements when Coryndon entered, and continued again as he +spoke, the flap of his tweed hat shaking like elephants' ears. He +informed Coryndon, who spoke to him in Yunnanese, that Leh Shin was out, +so that if he had anything to sell, he would arrange the details of the +bargain, and if he wanted to buy, he could leave the price of the +article with the trusted assistant of Leh Shin.</p> + +<p>It took Coryndon some time to buy what he needed, which appeared to be +nothing more interesting than a couple of old boxes. The Burman needed +these to pack a few goods in, as he meditated inhabiting the empty, +rat-infested house next door but one to the shop of Leh Shin. Upon +hearing that they were to be neighbours, the assistant grew sulky and +informed Coryndon that trade was slack if he wished to sell anything, +but his eyes grew crafty again when he was informed that his new +acquaintance did not act for himself, but for a friend from Madras, who +having made much money out of a Sahib, whose bearer he had been for some +years, desired to open business in a small way with sweets and grain and +such-like trifles, whereby to gain an honest living.</p> + +<p>The assistant glanced at the clock, when, after much haggling, the deal +was concluded, and the Burman knotted the remainder of his money in a +small corner of his <i>loongyi</i>, and stood rubbing his elbows, looking at +the Chinaman, who appeared restless.</p> + +<p>"Where shall I find Leh Shin?" The Burman put the question suddenly. "In +what house am I to seek him, assistant of the widower and the +childless?"</p> + +<p>The boy leered and jerked his thumb towards the direction of the river.</p> + +<p>"Closed to-night, follower of the Way," he said with a smothered noise +like a strangled laugh. "Closed to-night. Every door shut, every light +hidden, and those who go and demand the dreams cannot pass in. I, only, +know the password, since my master receives high persons." He spat on +the floor.</p> + +<p>Coryndon bowed his head in passive subjection.</p> + +<p>"None else know my quantity," he murmured. "These thieves in the lesser +streets would mix me a poison and do me evil."</p> + +<p>The assistant scratched his head diligently and looked doubtfully at the +Burman.</p> + +<p>"And yet I cannot remember thy face."</p> + +<p>"I have been away up the big river. I have travelled far to that Island, +where I, with other innocent ones, suffered for no fault of mine."</p> + +<p>Leh Shin's assistant looked satisfied. If the Burman were but lately +returned from the convict settlement on the Andaman Islands, it was +quite likely that he might not have been acquainted with him.</p> + +<p>To all appearances, the bargain being concluded, and Leh Shin being +absent from the shop, there was nothing further to keep the customer, +yet he made no sign of wishing to leave, and, after a little preamble, +he invited the assistant to drink with him, since, he explained, he +needed company and had taken a fancy to the Chinese boy, who, in his +turn, admitted to a liking for any man who was prepared to entertain him +free of expense. Leh Shin's assistant could not leave the shop for +another hour, so the Burman, who did not appear inclined to wait so +long, went out swiftly, and came back with a bottle of native spirit.</p> + +<p>Fired by the fumes of the potent and burning alcohol, the Chinaman +became inquisitive, and wished to hear the details of the crime for +which his new friend had so wrongfully suffered. He looked so evil, so +greasy, and so utterly loathsome that he seemed to fascinate the Burman, +who rocked himself about and moaned as he related the story of his +wrong. His words so excited the ghoulish interest of his listener that +his bloated body quivered as he drank in the details.</p> + +<p>"And so ends the tale of his great evil; he that was my friend," said +Coryndon, rising from his heels as he finished his story. "The hour +grows late and there is no comfort in the night, since I may not find +oblivion." He passed his hand stupidly over his forehead. "My memory is +lost, flapping like an owl in the sunlight; once the road to the house +by the river lay before me as the lines upon my open palm, but now the +way is no longer clear."</p> + +<p>"I have said that it is closed to-night, so none may enter. There is a +password, but I alone know it, and I may not tell it, friend of an evil +man."</p> + +<p>"There are other nights," whined the Burman, "many of them in the +passing of a year. When I have the knowledge of thee, then may I seek +and find later." He rubbed his knees with an indescribable gesture of +mean cringing.</p> + +<p>The Chinese boy drank from the bottle and smacked his lips.</p> + +<p>"Hear, then, thou convict," he said in a shrill hectoring voice. "By the +way of Paradise Street, along the wharf and past the waste place where +the tram-line ends and the houses stand far apart. Of the houses of +commerce, I do not speak; of the mat houses where the Coringyhis live, I +do not speak, but beyond them, open below to the water-snakes, and built +above into a secret place, is the house we know of, but Leh Shin is not +there for thee to-night, as I have already spoken."</p> + +<p>He felt in the pouch at his waist for a rank black cigar, which he +pushed into his mouth and lighted with a sulphur match.</p> + +<p>"Who fries the mud fish when he may eat roast duck?" he said, with a +harsh cackle that made the Burman start and stare at him.</p> + +<p>"<i>Aie! Aie!</i> I do not understand thy words." The Burman's face grew +blank and he went to the door.</p> + +<p>"Neither do you need to, son of a chained monkey," retorted the boy, +full of strong liquor and arrogance. "But I tell thee, I and my mate, +Leh Shin, hold more than money between the finger and the thumb,"—he +pinched his forefinger against a mutilated thumb. "More than money, +see, fool; thou understandest nothing, thy brain is left along with thy +chains in the Island which is known unto thee."</p> + +<p>"Sleep well," said the Burman. "Sleep well, child of the Heavens, I +understand thee not at all," and with a limp shrug of his shoulders, he +slid out of the narrow door into the night.</p> + +<p>Coryndon gave one glance at the sky; the dawn was still far off, but in +spite of this he ran up the deserted colonnade and walked quickly down +Paradise Street, which was still awake and would be awake for hours. +Once clear of the lessening crowd and on to the wharf, he ran again; +past the business houses, past the long quarter where the Coringyhis and +coolie-folk lived, and, lastly, with a slow, lurking step, to the close +vicinity of a house standing alone upon high supports. He skirted round +it, but to all appearances it was closed and empty, and he sat down +behind a clump of rough elephant-grass and tucked his heels under him.</p> + +<p>His original idea, on coming out, had been merely to get into touch with +Leh Shin, and make the way clear for his coming to the small, empty +house close to the shop of the ineffectual curio dealer, and now he +knew, through his fine, sharp instinct, that he was close upon the track +of some mystery. It might have nothing to do with the disappearance of +the Christian boy, Absalom, or it might be a thread from the hidden +loom, but, in any case, Coryndon determined to wait and see what was +going to happen. He was well used to long waiting, and the Oriental +strain in his blood made it a matter of no effort with him. Someone was +hidden in the lonely house, some man who paid heavily for the privacy of +the waterside opium den, and Coryndon was determined to discover who +that man was.</p> + +<p>The night was fair and clear, and the murmur of the tidal river gentle +and soothing, and as he sat, well hidden by the clump of grass, he went +over the events of the evening and thought of the face of Leh Shin's +assistant. Hartley had spoken of the bestial creature in tones of +disgust, but Hartley had not seen him to the same peculiar advantage. +Line by line, Coryndon committed the face to his indelible memory, +looking at it again in the dark, and brooding over it as a lover broods +over the face of the woman he loves, but from very different motives. He +was assured that no cruelty or wickedness that mortal brain could +imagine would be beyond the act of this man, if opportunity offered, and +he was attracted by the psychological interest offered to him in the +study of such a mind.</p> + +<p>The ripples whispered below him, and, far away, he heard the chiming of +a distant clock striking a single note, but he did not stir; he sat like +a shadow, his eyes on the house, that rose black, silent, and, to all +appearances, deserted, against the starry darkness of the sky. He had +got his facts clear, so far as they went, and his mind wandered out with +the wash of the water, and the mystery of the river flowed over him; the +silent causeway leading to the sea, carrying the living on its bosom, +and bearing the dead beneath its brown, sucking flow, full of its own +life, and eternally restless as the sea tides ebbed and flowed, yet +musical and wild and unchanged by the hand of man. Coryndon loved moving +waters, and he remembered that somewhere, miles away from Mangadone, he +had played along a river bank, little better than the small native +children who played there now, and he saw the green jungle-clearing, the +red road, and the roof of his father's bungalow, and he fancied he could +hear the cry of the paddy-birds, and the voices of the water-men who +came and went through the long, eventless days.</p> + +<p>Even while he thought, he never moved his eyes from the house. Suddenly +a light glimmered for a moment behind a window, and he sat forward +quickly, forgetting his dream, and becoming Coryndon the tracker in the +twinkling flash of a second. The inmates of the house were stirring at +last, and Coryndon lay flat behind his clump of grass and hardly +breathed.</p> + +<p>He could hear a door open softly, and, though it was too dark to discern +anything, he knew that there was a man on the veranda, and that the man +slipped down the staircase, where he stood for a moment and peered +about. He moved quietly up the path and watched it for a few minutes, +and then slid back into the house again. Coryndon could hear whispers +and a low, growled response, and then another figure appeared, a Sahib +this time, by his white clothes. He used no particular caution, and came +heavily down the staircase, that creaked under his weight, and took the +track by which Coryndon had come.</p> + +<p>Silhouetted against the sky, Coryndon saw the head and neck of a +Chinaman, and he turned his eyes from the man on the path to watch this +outline intently; it was thin, spare and vulture-like. Evidently Leh +Shin was watching his departing guest with some anxiety, for he peered +and craned and leaned out until Coryndon cursed him from where he lay, +not daring to move until he had gone.</p> + +<p>At last the silhouette was withdrawn and the Chinaman went back into the +house. He had hardly done so when Coryndon was on his feet, running +hard. He ran lightly and gained the road just as the man he followed +turned the corner by Wharf Street and plodded on steadily. In the +darkness of the night there are no shadows thrown, but this man had a +shadow as faithful as the one he knew so well and that was his companion +from sunrise to sunset, and close after him the poor, nameless Burman +followed step for step through the long path that ended at the house of +Joicey the Banker.</p> + +<p>Coryndon watched him go in, heard him curse the <i>Durwan</i>, and then he +ran once more, because the stars were growing pale and time was +precious. He was weary and tired when he crept into the compound outside +the sleeping bungalow on the hill-rise, and he stood at the gate and +gave a low, clear cry, the cry of a waking bird, and a few minutes +afterwards Coryndon followed Joicey's example and cursed the <i>Durwan</i>, +kicking him as he lay snoring on his blanket.</p> + +<p>"Open the door, you swine," he said in the angry voice of a belated +reveller, "and don't wake the house with that noise."</p> + +<p>Even when he was in his room and delivered himself over to the +ministrations of Shiraz, he did not go to bed. He had something to think +over. He knew that he had established the connection between Joicey the +Banker and the spare, gaunt Chinaman who kept a shop for miscellaneous +wares in the dark colonnade beyond Paradise Street. Joicey had a short +memory: he had forgotten whether he had met the Rev. Francis Heath on +the night of the 29th of July, and had imagined that he was not there, +that he was away from Mangadone; and as Coryndon dropped off to sleep, +he felt entirely convinced that, if necessary, he could help Joicey's +memory very considerably.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV" />XIV</h2> + +<h3>TELLS HOW SHIRAZ, THE PUNJABI, ADMITTED THE FRAILTIES OF ORDINARY +HUMANITY, AND HOW CORYNDON ATTENDED AFTERNOON SERVICE AND CONSIDERED THE +VEXED QUESTION OF TEMPERAMENT.</h3> + + +<p>The day following Coryndon's vigil outside the lonely house by the river +was dull and grey, with a woolly sky and a tepid stillness that hung +like a tangible weight in the air. Its drowsiness affected even the +native quarter, but it in no way lessened the bustle of preparations for +departure on the part of Coryndon, who ordered Shiraz to pack enough +clothes for a short journey, and to hold himself in readiness to leave +with his master shortly after sunrise the following day. His master also +gave him leave to go to the Bazaar and return at his own discretion, as +he was going out with Hartley Sahib.</p> + +<p>It was about noon, when the sun had struggled clear of the heavy clouds, +that Shiraz found himself in the dark colonnade locking an empty house +behind him with his own key, and, being a stately, red-bearded follower +of the Prophet, with a general appearance of wealth and dignity, he +walked slowly until he came to the doorway of Leh Shin's shop. His step +caused the Chinaman to look up from the string bed where he lay, gaunt, +yellow and unsavoury, his dark clothes contrasting with the flowing +white garments of the venerable man who regarded him through his +spectacles.</p> + +<p>"The hand of Allah has led me to this place," said Shiraz in his low, +reflective tones. "I seek for a little prayer-mat and a few bowls of +brass for my food; likewise, a bed for myself, and a bed of lesser value +for my companion. Hast thou these things, Leh Shin?"</p> + +<p>Leh Shin went into his back premises and returned with the bowls and the +prayer-mat.</p> + +<p>"The bed for thyself, O Haj, and the bed of lesser value for thy friend, +I shall make shift to procure. Presently I will send my assistant, the +eyes of my encroaching age, to bring what you need."</p> + +<p>"It is well," said Shiraz, who was seated on a low stool near the door, +and who looked with contemplative eyes into the shop.</p> + +<p>Leh Shin huddled himself on to the string couch again, and the slow +process of bargain-driving began. Pice by pice they argued the question, +and at last Shiraz produced a handful of small coin, which passed from +him to the Chinaman.</p> + +<p>"I had already heard of thee," said Leh Shin, scratching his loose +sleeves with his long, claw-like fingers. "But thy friend, the Burman, +who spoke beforehand of thy coming, and who still recalls the mixture of +his opium pipe, I cannot remember." He hunched his shoulders. "Yet even +that is not strange. My house by the river is a house of many faces, +yet all who dream wear the same face in the end," his voice crooned +monotonously. "All in the end, from living in the world of visions, +become the same."</p> + +<p>Shiraz bowed his head with grave courtesy.</p> + +<p>"It was also told to me that you served a rich master and have stored up +wealth."</p> + +<p>"The way of honesty is never the path to wealth," responded Shiraz, in +tones of reproof. "So it is written in the Koran."</p> + +<p>Leh Shin accepted the ambiguous reply with an unmoved face.</p> + +<p>"Thy friend is under the hand of devils?"</p> + +<p>He put the remark as an idle question.</p> + +<p>"He is tormented," replied Shiraz, pulling at his beard. "He is much +driven by thoughts of evil, committed, such is his dream, by another +than himself; and yet the <i>Sirkar</i> hath said that the crime was his own. +The ways of Allah are veiled, and Mah Myo is without doubt no longer +reasonable; yet he is my friend, and doth greatly profit thereby."</p> + +<p>"Ah, ah," said the Chinaman, placing a hubble-bubble before his guest, +who condescended to shut the mouthpiece in under his long moustache, +while he sat silently for nearly half an hour.</p> + +<p>"Dost thou sell beautiful things, Leh Shin?" he asked. "I have a gift to +bestow, and my mind troubles me. The Lady Sahib of my late master +suffered misfortune. She was robbed by some unknown son of a jackal, and +thereby lost jewels, the value of which was said to be great, though I +know not of the value of such things."</p> + +<p>Leh Shin curled his bare toes on the edge of his bed and looked at them +with a great appearance of interest.</p> + +<p>"Was the thief taken, O son of a Prophet?"</p> + +<p>"He was not. I have cried in the veranda, to see the Lady Sahib's +sorrow, and I have also prayed and made many offerings at the Mosque, +but the thief escaped. Now that my service with the Lord Sahib is +finished, and as he has assisted my poverty with small gifts, I would +like to make a present to the Lady Sahib. Some trifling thing, costing a +small sum in rupees, for her grief was indeed great, and it may avail to +console her sorrow."</p> + +<p>"For which sorrow thou, also, wept in the veranda," added Leh Shin.</p> + +<p>"The Lady Sahib had many bowls of lacquer, some green, some red, some +spotted like the back of a poison snake, but she lacked a golden bowl, +and, should I be able to procure one for a moderate price, it would add +greatly to her pleasure in remembering her servant, for, says not the +Wise One, 'a gift is a small thing, but the hand that holds it may not +be raised to smite.'"</p> + +<p>Shiraz, all the time he was speaking, had regarded the Chinaman from +behind his respectable gold-rimmed spectacles, and he noticed that Leh +Shin did not seem to care for the subject of lacquer, for his face +darkened and he stopped scratching.</p> + +<p>"I deal not in lacquer," he said quickly. "Neither touch thou the +accursed thing, O Shiraz. Leave it to Mhtoon Pah, who is a sorcerer and +whose lies mount as high as the topmost pinnacle of the Pagoda." The +Chinaman's lips drew back from his teeth, and he snarled like a dog. "I +will not speak of him to thee, but I would that the face of Mhtoon Pah +was under my heel, and his eyeballs under my thumbs."</p> + +<p>"Yet this golden bowl has been in my thought," the voice of Shiraz +flowed on evenly. "And I said that here, in Mangadone, I might find such +an one. Thou art sure that lacquer is accursed to thine eyes, Leh Shin? +That thou hast not such a bowl by thee, neither that thy assistant, when +he seeks the bed for myself and the lesser bed for my friend, could not +look craftily into the shop of this merchant, and ask the price as he +passeth, if so be that Mhtoon Pah has such a bowl to sell?"</p> + +<p>Leh Shin spat ferociously.</p> + +<p>"There was a bowl, a bowl such as you describe, O servant of Kings, and +I thought to procure it, for word was brought me that Mhtoon Pah had +need of it, and I desired to hold it before him and withdraw it again, +and to inspire his covetousness and rage and then to sell it from my own +hand, but he leagues with devils and his power is great, for, behold, +Honourable Haj, the bowl that was mine was lost by the man from the seas +who was about to sell it to me. Lost, in all truth, and after the lapse +of many days, Mhtoon Pah had it in his shop, and sold it to the Lady +Sahib."</p> + +<p>"The hands of a man of wealth are more than two," said Shiraz +oracularly.</p> + +<p>"Nay, not so, for all thy learning, Pilgrim from the Shrine of Mahomet. +The hands of this merchant, at the time I speak, were as my hands, or +thine," he held out his claws and snatched at the air as though it was +his enemy's throat. "For his boy, his assistant, the Christian Absalom, +who served him well, and whom Mhtoon Pah fed upon sweets from the +vendor's stall, was suddenly taken from him, and has vanished, like the +smoke of an opium pipe."</p> + +<p>Shiraz expressed wonder, and agreed with Leh Shin that sorcery had been +used, shaking his head gravely and at length rising to his feet.</p> + +<p>"The shadows lengthen and the hour of prayer draws near. It is time for +the follower of the Prophet to give a poor man's alms at the gate of the +Mosque, and to pray and praise," he said. "Thy assistant tarries, Leh +Shin; let him go forth with speed and place my purchase in thy keeping, +since I met thee in a happy hour, and shall return upon the morrow from +the <i>Serai</i>, where it is Allah's will that I pass the night in peace."</p> + +<p>Walking with a slow, regular pace, he left the native quarter, and +taking a tram, got out on the road below the bungalow where Hartley's +servant waited in the veranda.</p> + +<p>"Thy Sahib has cursed thy beard and thine age, and says that he will +replace thee with a younger man if thy dealings in the Bazaar are of +such long duration."</p> + +<p>"Peace, owl," said Shiraz. "The Sahib can no more travel without my +assistance than a babe of one day without his mother. Presently, when +the Sahib has drunk a peg, he will return to reason."</p> + +<p>"The Sahib is not within; he has but now gone out once more, asking +from my Sahib for the loan of a prayer-book. Doubtless, there is a +<i>Tamasha</i> at the 'Kerfedril,' and Coryndon Sahib goes thither to pray."</p> + +<p>"I shall place the buttons in his shirt, and recover an eight-anna piece +from the floor, which the master dropped yesterday, to deliver to him +when he shall return. Seek to be honest in thy youth, my son, for in +later life it will repay thee."</p> + +<p>Hartley's boy had not been mistaken when he heard Coryndon ask for a +prayer-book and saw him go out on foot. The small persistent bell +outside St. Jude's Church was ringing with desperate energy to collect +any worshippers who might feel inclined to assemble there for evensong, +and the worshippers when collected under the tin roof numbered nearly a +dozen.</p> + +<p>It was a bare, barn-like Church, for the wealth of the Cantonment had +flowed in the direction of the Cathedral. The punkah mats flapped +languidly, and the lower part of the church was dark, only the chancel +being lighted with ungainly punkah-proof lamps, and the two altar +candles that threw their gleam on a plain gold cross, guttered in the +heat. A strip of cocoa-nut matting lay along the aisle, and the chancel +and altar steps were covered in sad, faded red. The organist did not +attend except on Sundays or Feast Days, and the service was plain, +conducted throughout by the Rev. Francis Heath.</p> + +<p>Coryndon took a seat about half-way up the nave, and when Heath came +into the church, he watched him with interest. He liked to watch a man, +whom it was his business to study, without being disturbed, and Heath's +face in profile, as he knelt at the reading desk, or in full sight as he +stood to read the lesson, attracted the fixed gaze of, at least, one +member of the small congregation. There was no sermon and the service +was short, and as he sat quietly in his place, Coryndon wondered what +frenzied moment of fear or despair could have driven this man into the +company of Joicey and Mrs. Draycott Wilder, unconscious perhaps of their +connection with him, but linked nevertheless by an invisible thread that +wound around them all.</p> + +<p>Beyond the fact that he had seen Mrs. Wilder, he had not taken her under +the close observation of his mental microscope. She stood on one side +until such time as he should have need to probe into her reasons for +silence, and he wondered if Hartley was right, and if, by chance, the +earnest face of the clergyman, with its burning, stricken eyes, had +appealed to her sympathy. Could it be so, he asked himself once or +twice, but the immediate question was the one that Coryndon gave his +mind to answer, and just then he was forming an impression of the Rev. +Francis Heath.</p> + +<p>He looked at his hands, at his thin neck, at the hollows in his cheeks +and the emotional quiver at the corner of his mouth, and he knew the man +was a fanatic, a civilized fanatic, but desperately and even horribly in +earnest. A believer in torment, a man who held the vigorous faith that +makes for martyrdom and can also pile wood for the fires that burn the +bodies of others for the eventual welfare of their souls. +Unquestionably, the Rev. Francis Heath was a man not to be judged by an +average inch rule, and Coryndon thought over him as he listened to his +voice and watched his strained, tempest-tossed face. Whether he was +involved in the disappearance of Absalom or not, he recognized that +Heath was a strong man, and that his ill-balanced force would need very +little to make him a violent man. It surprised him less to think that +Hartley attached suspicion to the Rector of St. Jude's than it had at +first, and he left the church with a very clear impression of the +clergyman put carefully away beside his appreciation of Leh Shin's +assistant. He had caught just a glimpse of the personality of the man, +and was busy building it up bit by bit, working out his idea by first +trying to fathom the temperament that dwelt in the spare body and drove +and wore him hour after hour.</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis Heath had paid some Chinaman to keep silence, but +though he might pay a Chinaman, he could do nothing with his own +conscience, and it was with a hidden adversary that he wrestled day and +night. Coryndon's face was pitiless as the face of a vivisecting +surgeon. Had she known of his mission, Mrs. Wilder might have beaten her +beautiful head on the stones under his feet, and she would have gained +nothing whatever of concession or mercy.</p> + +<p>Atkins and the Barrister were dining with Hartley that night, and as +Coryndon never cared to hurry over his dressing, he went at once to his +room and called Shiraz.</p> + +<p>"All is well, my Master," said Shiraz, in a low voice. "But it would be +wise if the Master were to curse his servant in a loud voice, since it +is expected that he will do so, and the monkey-folk in the servants' +quarter listen without, concealing their pleasure in the Sahib's wrath."</p> + +<p>When the proceedings terminated and Coryndon had accepted his servant's +long excuse for his delay, the doors were closed, Shiraz having first +gone out to shake his fist at Hartley's boy.</p> + +<p>"Thus much have I discovered, Lord Sahib," said Shiraz, when he had +explained that the house was in readiness and the necessary furniture +bought and stored temporarily at the shop of Leh Shin, the Chinaman. +"There is an old hate between these two men, he of the devil shop, and +the Chinaman, a hate as old as rust that eats into an iron bar."</p> + +<p>Coryndon lay back in his chair and listened without remark.</p> + +<p>"Among many lies told unto me, that is true; and again, among many lies, +it is also true that he had not, neither did he ever possess, the gold +lacquer bowl, on the subject of which my Master bade me question him. He +knows not how Mhtoon Pah found it, but he believes that it was through a +sorcery he practised, for the man is as full of evil as the chatti +lifted from the brink of the well is full of water."</p> + +<p>Coryndon smiled and glanced at Shiraz.</p> + +<p>"And you think so also, grandson of a Tucktoo, for though you are old, +your white hairs bring you no wisdom."</p> + +<p>"I am the Sahib's servant, but who knoweth the ways of devils, since +their footprints cannot be seen, neither upon the sand of the desert nor +in the snows of the great hills?"</p> + +<p>"Did he speak of Absalom?"</p> + +<p>"He told me, Protector of the Poor, that the boy, though of Christian +caste, was to Mhtoon Pah as the apple of his eye, and that he fed him +upon sweets from the vendor's stall. Let it be said, for thy wisdom to +unravel, that therefore Leh Shin felt mirth in his mind, knowing that +the heart of his foe was wrung as the <i>Dhobie</i> wrings the soiled +garment."</p> + +<p>Shiraz fell silent and looked up from the floor at the face of his +master, who got up and stretched himself.</p> + +<p>"Is my bath ready, Shiraz?"</p> + +<p>"All is prepared, though the <i>pani walla</i>, a worker of iniquity, steals +the wood for his own burning; therefore, the water is not hot, and ill +is done to the good name of Hartley Sahib's house."</p> + +<p>When he was dressed he strolled into the drawing-room, and sat down at +the piano, playing softly until Hartley came in.</p> + +<p>"Shall you be away long, do you suppose?" he asked, looking with +interest at Coryndon's smooth, black head.</p> + +<p>"I may be, but it is impossible to tell. If I want you, I will send a +message by Shiraz."</p> + +<p>The dinner passed off without incident, and not once did Coryndon open +the secret door of his mind, to add to the strange store of facts he had +gathered there. He wanted nothing from Atkins, who knew less of the Rev. +Francis Heath than he did himself, and he had to sustain his rôle of +ignorance of the country. The two men stayed late, and it seemed to +Coryndon that when men talk they do more than talk, they tell many +things unconsciously.</p> + +<p>Perhaps, if people realized, as Coryndon realized, the value of +restrained speech, we should know less of our neighbours' follies and +weaknesses than we do. There was a noticeable absence of interest in +what anyone else had to say. Atkins had his own foible, Fitzgibbon his, +and Hartley, who knew more of the ways of men, a more interesting, but +not less egoistic platform from which he desired to speak. They seemed +to stalk naked and unashamed before the eyes of the one man who never +gave a definite opinion, and who never asserted his own theories or +urged his own philosophy of life.</p> + +<p>Coryndon listened because it amused him faintly, but he was glad when +the party broke up and they left. What a planet of words it was, he +thought, as he sat in his room and reflected over the day. Words that +ought to carry value and weight, but were treated like so many loose +pebbles cast into void space; and he wondered as he thought of it; and +from wondering at the wordy, noisy world in which he found himself, he +went on to wonder at the greater silence that was so much more powerful +than words. "The value of mystery," was the phrase that presented itself +to his mind.</p> + +<p>During the evening, three men had enjoyed all the pleasure of +self-betrayal, and, from the place where he stood, unable ever to +express anything of his own nature in easy speech, he wondered at them, +with almost childlike astonishment. Fitzgibbon, garrulous and loose of +tongue, Atkins, precise and easily heated to wrath, conscious of some +hidden fear that his dignity was not sufficiently respected, and +Hartley, who had something to say, but who oversaid it, losing grip +because of his very insistence. Not one of them understood the value of +reserve, and all alike strove to proclaim themselves in speech, not +knowing that speech is an unsound vehicle for the unwary, and that +personality disowns it as a medium.</p> + +<p>Out of the mouth of a man comes his own condemnation: let him prosper +who remembers this truth. The value of mystery, the value of silence, +and above all things, the supreme value of a tongue that is a servant +and not a master; Coryndon considered these values and wondered again at +the garrulity of men. Talk, the fluid, ineffectual force that fills the +world with noise, that kills illusions and betrays every latent +weakness; surely the high gods laughed when they put a tongue in the +mouth of man. He pinched his lips together and his eyes lighted with a +passing smile of mirth.</p> + +<p>"In Burma, there are no clappers to the bells," he said to himself. +"Each man must strike hard before sound answers to his hand, and truly +it is well to think of this at times." And, still amused by the fleeting +memory of the evening, he went to bed and slept.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XV" id="XV" />XV</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH THE FURTHERING OF A STRANGE COMRADESHIP IS CONTINUED, AND A +BEGGAR FROM AMRITZAR CRIES IN THE STREETS OF MANGADONE</h3> + + +<p>Trade was slack in the shop of Leh Shin, the Chinaman. He had sat in the +odorous gloom and done little else than feel his arms and rub his legs, +for the greater part of the day. His new acquaintance, Shiraz, had taken +over possession of his goods, scrutinizing them with care before he did +so, in case the brass pots had been exchanged in the night for inferior +pots of smaller circumference, and in the end he had departed into his +own rat-burrow, two doors up the street, where his friend the Burman was +already established in a gloomy corner. Leh Shin heard of this through +his assistant, who had followed the coolie into the house, and +investigated the premises as he stood about, with offers of assistance +for his excuse.</p> + +<p>"They have naught with them, save only a box that has no lock upon it, +and also the boxes bought from thy shop, Leh Shin, but these are empty, +for I looked closely, when they talked in the hither room, where they +are minded to live. Jewels, didst thou say? Then that fox with the red +beard has sold them and the money is stored in some place of security."</p> + +<p>"Ah, ah," said the Chinaman, his eyes dull and fixed.</p> + +<p>"And 'ah, ah' to thee," retorted the assistant, who found the response +lacking in interest. "I would I knew where it was hidden."</p> + +<p>With a sudden change of manner he squatted near the ear of Leh Shin and +talked in a soft whisper.</p> + +<p>"Is not the time ripe, O wise old man, is not the hour come when thou +mayst go to the house of the white Sahib and demand a piece for closed +lips?"</p> + +<p>He pursed up his small mouth and pointed at it.</p> + +<p>Leh Shin shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I am already paid, and I will not demand further, lest he, whom we know +of, come no more. Drive not the spent of strength; since the price is +sufficient, I may not demand more, lest I sin in so doing."</p> + +<p>The assistant glared at him with angry eyes.</p> + +<p>"Fool, and thrice fool," he muttered under his breath, but Leh Shin did +not heed him, and did not even appear to hear what he said. For a long +time the old Chinaman seemed wrapped in his thought, and at last he got +up, and leaving the shop, went towards the principal Joss House that +faced the river.</p> + +<p>Coryndon had chosen the empty shop in the Colonnade for two reasons. It +was near Leh Shin, and near the strange assistant, who interested him +nearly as much as Leh Shin himself, and also it had the additional +advantage of being the last house in the block. A narrow alley full of +refuse of every description lay between it and the next block, and the +rickety house had doors that opened to the front, and to the side, and +by way of a dark lane directly from the back, making ingress or egress a +matter of wide choice.</p> + +<p>The shop front was shuttered, and left to the rats and cockroaches, and +up a flight of decrepit and shaky stairs, Shiraz had made what shift he +could to provide comfort for his master in the least dilapidated room in +the house. The walls were thin, and the plaster of the low ceiling was +smoke-grimed and dirty. The "bed of lesser value" was stored away in the +garret that lay beyond, and the prayer-mat was placed alongside the +toil-worn wooden <i>charpoy</i>, that was at least fairly clean and had all +four legs intact; and under this bed, the box that held a strange +assortment of clothing was put safely away. At the bottom of another +box, one of those bought by Coryndon himself from Leh Sin's assistant, +Shiraz had laid a suit of tussore silk, a few shirts and collars, and +anything that his master might require if he wished to revisit those +"glimpses of the moon" in the Cantonments; for Shiraz neglected nothing, +and had a genius for detail.</p> + +<p>A hurricane lamp, that threw impartial light upon all sides, stood on a +round table, and lighted the small room, and at one corner Coryndon sat, +clad in his Burmese <i>loongyi</i> and white coat, thinking, his chin on his +folded hands. He had taught himself to think without paper or pens, and +to record his impressions with the same diligent care as though he wrote +them upon paper. He could command his thoughts, and direct them towards +one end and one issue, and he believed that notes were an abomination, +and that, in his Service, memory was the only safe recorder of progress.</p> + +<p>He was fully aware that he was hunting what might well be a cold line, +and he thought persistently of Leh Shin, putting the other possible +issues upon one side. Hartley had allowed himself to be dominated by a +predisposition to account for everything through Heath, and Coryndon +warned himself against falling into the same snare with Leh Shin. He +thought of the Chinaman's shop, and he knew that it was built on the +same plan as his own dwelling. There was no basement, and hardly any +room beyond the open ground-floor apartment and the two upper rooms. +Nowhere, in fact, to conceal anything; and its thin walls could not +contain a single cry for help or prayer for mercy. It was possible to +have drugged the boy and smothered him as he lay unconscious, but unless +the murderers had chosen this method, Absalom could not have met his end +in the Chinaman's shop. There remained the house by the river to +investigate, and there remained hours and days, and possibly weeks, of +close watching, that might reveal some tiny clue, and for that Coryndon +was determined to wait and watch until it lay in the hollow of his palm.</p> + +<p>Acting the part of a man more or less astray in his wits, he wandered +out either late or early, with the vague, aimless step of a dreamer, and +stood about, staring vacantly. Leh Shin's shop attracted him, and he +would squat on the ground either just outside the narrow entrance, or +just within, and, with flaccid, dropping mouth, stare at the hanging +array of secondhand clothes, making himself a source of endless +entertainment for the boy, who found him easy to annoy and distress, and +consequently practised upon him with unwearying pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Wise one, where are the jewels stolen by thy Master?" he asked, +throwing the dregs of his drink over the Burman's bare feet.</p> + +<p>"Jewels, jewels? Nay, friend, jewels are for the rich; for the Raj and +the Prince; I have never seen one to hold in my hand and to consider +closely. As for the Punjabi, he is no master of mine. I did him a +service—nay, I have forgotten what the service was, as I forget all +things, save only the guilt of the evil man, once my friend."</p> + +<p>"Tell me once more thy story."</p> + +<p>The Burman cowered down and whimpered.</p> + +<p>"Since I put it into speech for thy ears, my trouble of mind has grown, +like moonlight in the mist. I may not speak it again. They, yonder, +would hear," he pointed at the clothes, that napped a little in the hot, +heavy wind that came in strong with the scents and smells of the Bazaar.</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh," said the boy, with a crackling laugh. "I will tell them not to +speak or stir. I have power over them, and they shall repeat nothing. +Tell me the story, fool, or I will drive thee from thy corner, and the +children shall throw mud upon thee in the streets."</p> + +<p>Again and again the drama was repeated, and as Coryndon became part of +the day's amusement to Leh Shin's assistant, he grew to know exactly +what both the boy and his master did during the hours of the day. +Unknown and unsuspected, the Burman went in and out as they went in and +out. He appeared at the house by the river, he sat with his legs +dangling over the drop from the Colonnade into the streets, and he wore +out the hours in idleness, the dust of the Bazaar powdering his hair and +griming his face, but behind his vacant eyes, his quick brain was alive +and burning, and he felt after Leh Shin with invisible hands.</p> + +<p>Coryndon was never at the mercy of one idea only, and he began to see, +very soon after he had investigated the two houses—the ramshackle shop +and the riverside den—that if he intended to progress he could not +afford to sit in the street and drink in the café opposite Leh Shin's +dwelling for an interminable space of weeks. He had limitless patience, +but he was quick of action, and saw any flaw in his own system as soon +as a flaw appeared. Leh Shin was suspicious, and took precautions when +he went out at night, and this in itself made it dangerous to be +continually upon his heels in a character he knew and could recognize. +So long as there was anything to gain by remaining in his Burmese +clothing, Coryndon used it, avoiding the Chinaman and cultivating the +society of his assistant, but he soon began to realize that if he were +to follow as closely as he desired, he could not do so in his present +disguise.</p> + +<p>All day he sat watching the crowded street, shivering, though the sun +was warm, and breaking his silence with complaints that the fever was +upon him, and that he was sick, and that he could not eat. He whimpered +and whined so persistently that the assistant drove him off, for he +feared infection, and fancied he might be sickening for the plague.</p> + +<p>"Neither come thou hither, until thou art fully recovered," he added, +"lest I use my force upon thee."</p> + +<p>If a certain beggar who had sat for a whole month outside the Golden +Temple at Amritzar was to become reincarnated in the person of the idiot +Burman, the Burman must have a reason to offer to the inquisitive for +his temporary absence. Sickness is sudden and active in the streets of +any Bazaar, and when Shiraz learnt that he was to keep within the house +and report the various stages of the fever of his friend, he salaamed +and drew out the battered box from under the bed, and folded away the +<i>loongyi</i> and coat with care.</p> + +<p>Coryndon explained his plan of coming and going when the streets were +silent, and when he could do so without being noticed. If he came in the +daytime and asked for alms, Shiraz was to open and call him in to +receive food, but he would only do this in great emergency, as the +beggar did not wish to establish any connection with the Punjabi. If, on +the other hand, it was a matter of necessity for the Burman to reappear, +Shiraz was to walk along the street and bestow alms in the beggar's +bowl; and on the first opportunity Coryndon would return and make the +necessary change. The first difficulty was to get out of the house, and +to be in the street by twilight, when the close operation of watching +would have to begin.</p> + +<p>"The doors of the merciful are ever open to the poor; yet there is great +danger in going out by the way of the Bazaar."</p> + +<p>"There is a closed door at the back that I have well prepared," said +Coryndon, pulling a bit of sacking over his bent shoulders. "Remember +that an oiled hinge opens like the mouth of a wise man."</p> + +<p>The addition of one to the brotherhood of vagrancy that is part of every +Eastern Bazaar calls the attention of no one, and being a newcomer, +Coryndon contented himself with accepting a pitch in a district where +alms were difficult to obtain and small in value, but his humility did +not keep him there long, and he made a place for himself at the top of +Paradise Street, in the shadow of an arched doorway, where a house with +carved shutters and horseshoe windows was slowly mouldering through the +first stages of decay. From here he could see down the Colonnade, and +also watch the shop of Mhtoon Pah, as he alternately cursed or blessed +the passers, according to their gifts or their apathy.</p> + +<p>The heavy, slouching figure of the assistant went by to take up his +master's place in the waterside house, and the beggar wasted no time in +glancing after him. He knew his destination, and had no need to trouble +about the ungainly, walloping creature, who kicked him as he passed. It +was fresh, out in the street, and pleasant, and in spite of his musty +rags and his hidden face, Coryndon enjoyed the change of occupation.</p> + +<p>He saw the place much as it had been on the evening of July the 29th. +Mhtoon Pah came out and sat on his chair, smoking a cheroot, and +observing the street. In a good humour it would appear, for when the +beggar cringed past and sent up his plea for assistance, the curio +dealer felt in his pouched waist-sash and threw him a coin.</p> + +<p>"Be it requited to thee in thy next life, O Shrine-builder," murmured +the beggar, and he squatted down on the ground a little further on.</p> + +<p>He saw Shiraz come out and stand at the door, preparatory to setting +forth to the Mosque. Saw him lock it carefully and proceed slowly and +with great dignity through the crowd. He passed close to the beggar, but +took no notice of him, lifting his garments lest they should touch him, +and for this the beggar cursed him, to the entertainment of those who +listened.</p> + +<p>Blue shadows like wraiths of smoke enfolded the street at the far end, +and the clatter and noise grew stronger as the houses filled after the +day of toil. In one of the prosperous dwellings a gramophone was set +near the window, and the song floated out over the street, the +music-hall chorus from the merchant's house mingled in with the cry of +vendors hawking late wares at cheap prices.</p> + +<p>A hundred years ago, except for the gramophone and an occasional +<i>gharry</i>, the street might have been the same. The same amber light that +held only a short while after sunset, the same blue misty shadows, the +same concourse of colour and caste, the same talk of food, and the same +idle, loitering and inquisitive crowd.</p> + +<p>Coryndon watched it with eyes of love. Half of his nature belonged to +this place and was part of it. He understood their idleness, their small +pleasures, their kindness and their cruelty; and though the dominance of +the white race was strongest in him, he loved these half-brothers of his +because he understood them.</p> + +<p>Two young <i>Hypongyi</i> came past where he sat, and as they had nothing +else to give, gave him their blessing and a look of pity.</p> + +<p>"He did ill in his former life," said the elder of the two. "The balance +is adjusted thus, and only thus."</p> + +<p>"Great is the justice of the Law," replied the other, rubbing his shaven +crown reflectively, and then some noise of music or laughter attracted +them and they ran up the street to see what it might be, for they were +young, and there was no reason why they should not enjoy simple +pleasures.</p> + +<p>Coryndon knew that Leh Shin would certainly go to the Joss House that +night, and he knew that upon these occasions the Chinaman prayed long, +and that it would be dark before he entered the place of worship. For +another hour his time was free to watch the street, and without +attaching any particular consequence to the fact, he saw Mhtoon Pah get +up, rub his hands on his knees and lift his chair inside the door, which +he closed with a noise of dragging chains and creaking bolts.</p> + +<p>Slowly the last gleam withdrew, and the dust lost its effect of amber, +and the trees grew dark, and little whispering winds clapped the palm +leaves one on another with a dry, barking sound. Children still screamed +and played, and dogs yelped and offered to show fight, and still people +on foot came and went, and the dusk drew down a veil and the greater +noise subsided into a lower key.</p> + +<p>The beggar was no longer there, his place was empty and he had gone.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI" />XVI</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH LEH SHIN IS BREATHED UPON BY A JOSS, AND EXPERIENCES THE TERROR +OF A MAN WHO TOUCHES THE VEIL BEHIND WHICH THE IMMORTALS DWELL.</h3> + + +<p>Of all the savage desires that riot in the hearts of men, the lust of +revenge is probably the strongest. Civilization has done its best to +control and curb wild impulse; but as long as a cruel wrong rankles, or +a fierce longing to square an old account remains, there will be hands +thrust out to take the naked sword of the Lord into their own finite +grasp, and there will be men who will be content to pay the price so +that they may see the desire of their eyes.</p> + +<p>The Oriental has above the white races an illimitable patience in +awaiting his hour for retribution, for the heart of the East does not +forget and can hold a purpose silently through the dust-blown, sunlit +years, waiting for the dawn of the appointed day.</p> + +<p>When Leh Shin set out towards the Joss House, he was repeating a +procedure that had become constant with him of late. He knew that a Joss +was revengeful and terrible in matters of hate, therefore his prayer +would be understood in the strange region of power where the Great Ones +dwelt. His religion was a mixture of the teachings of Buddha, Confucius, +and Shinto, for long absence from his own country and constant +association with the Burmese and Japanese had blended and confused the +original belief that he had learnt in far-away Canton. To this basis was +added the grossest form of superstition, and the wildest fancies of a +brain muddled with the fumes of opium, but the one thing clear to him +was, that a Joss, though an immortal being, was able to comprehend +hatred.</p> + +<p>The gods punished terribly, slaying with plague and pestilence, +destroying life by flood and years of famine, and so Leh Shin knew that +they were very like men, taking full advantage of their fearful power +and punishing the smallest neglect with the utmost rigour. He could +appeal to a great invisible cruel brain and demand assistance for his +own limited desire for revenge, knowing that it was an attribute of +those whose help he sought, but he went in fear, with pricking nerves, +because his belief was strong in the power of the monsters he +worshipped.</p> + +<p>The Joss House stood in a wide street near the river; a stone courtyard +separated it from the thoroughfare, and the building itself was raised +on a terrace, led up to by two shallow flights of steps. The roof was a +marvel of sea-green mosaic, coiled over by dragons with flaming red +tongues and staring glass eyes, each dragon a wonder of fretted fins and +ivory teeth and claws. Upon each of the three roofs was set relief +mosaic, of beautiful workmanship, representing houses and ships and +bridges, with tiny men and women, and little trees, all as small as a +child's plaything, but complete, proportioned and entire. Huge stone +pillars covered with devils and crawling lizards supported the long +portico that ran the full length of the building, and between each +pillar an immense paper lantern gleamed like a dim moon.</p> + +<p>Leh Shin stood outside for a few moments and then plunged in, like a man +who is not sure of his nerve and cannot afford to wait too long lest his +determination to face what lay inside should fail him. On feast days the +Joss House was a gay place, full of lights and people crowding in and +out, and there was no room for fear, for even a Joss is not alarming in +company with many men, but when Leh Shin went in, the place was +deserted, and it seemed to him that the unseen power was terribly near +in the darkness.</p> + +<p>It was a vast, lofty building inside, supported by gold pillars and +black pillars, and in the centre near the door was a tank-shaped well +where pots of flowering plants and palms were set with no particular eye +to regularity or effect. As they shivered and rustled in the dark, they +were full of a suggestion of the fear that made Leh Shin's heart as cold +as a stone in a deep pool. Raised on a jade plinth, a low round pillar +stood directly in front of the rose-red curtains that were drawn across +the sanctuary space, and on the top of the pillar a bronze jar held one +scented stick, that burned slowly, like a winking, drowsy eye, its slow +spiral of incense creeping up into the air and losing itself in the high +arches of the pointed roof. Between the pillar and the sanctuary +itself, was a small table covered with an embroidered shawl, worked in +spangles that glittered and shone, and beneath the table were a number +of smooth stones.</p> + +<p>Leh Shin locked his hands together and passed up the aisle, close to +where the palm trees rustled and stirred, and fear was upon him like +that of a hungry dog. He crossed a line of light cast by some candles, +and it seemed to him that the curtains moved as he approached. The Joss +House was apparently empty, and yet it did not seem empty. Invisible +eyes watched behind the carved screens that shut out the priests' houses +on either side, invisible ears might easily catch the lowest whisper of +his prayer. Soundless impressions of moving things that had no shape +haunted his consciousness, and he started in panic as his own shadow +fell before him when he stepped across the burning candles and slid into +the close alley between the table and the shrine.</p> + +<p>He bent down suddenly and, feeling on the cold marble of the floor, took +up two of the stones and beat them together with the loud clapping noise +which proclaimed a suppliant. Bowed in the close space, he repeated his +prayer the requisite number of times, and it seemed to Leh Shin that the +Joss heard and accepted: the Joss who took visible shape in his mind, +with a face half-human and half-bestial, and who capered with a drawn +sword in his hand.</p> + +<p>Over his head the heavy curtains swayed again, and the tittering noise +from a nest of bats sounded like ghostly laughter. His prayer had drawn +power to his aid, out of the unknown place where the gods live, and +loosed it in response to his cry. He was only Leh Shin, a poor Chinaman +who kept a miserable shop in the native quarter and an opium den down +where the river water choked and gurgled at night, but he felt that he +had touched something in the terrible shadows, and once more he beat the +stones together, his face pouring with sweat. As the noise echoed up +again, the last candle fell dying into a yellow pool of melted wax, and +went out with an expiring flicker; and Leh Shin beat his hands against +the darkness that shut upon him like a wall. He sprang to his feet and +ran, and as he went wings seemed to bear down behind him. There was +terror alive in the Joss House, and before that terror he fled panting +and trembling, fearful that hands would close upon his black garments +and drag him back, holding him until he went mad. As he made for the +door he fancied he saw a shadowy form move in the gloom and clear his +path, and it added the last touch of panic to his mind.</p> + +<p>He leaned against an outer pillar for support, and gradually the noise +of the street drew him back again to reality and to the solid facts of +life once more. He had been badly scared, for in some cases when nothing +that can be expressed in words takes place, an infinitely greater thing, +that no words can express, has occurred mentally. To Leh Shin's +bewildered mind it was clear that he had actually felt a Joss breathe +upon him, and that he had heard its footsteps follow him across the +marble floor; the Joss who had shaken the curtains and extinguished the +candles.</p> + +<p>Still bewildered, Leh Shin crossed the courtyard and sat down on the +kerb; his head swam and he felt along his legs with shaking hands. A +belated fruit seller went by, and he bought a handful of dates, stuck on +a small rod and looking like immense beetles, and as he ate his +confidence in life gradually returned. The Joss was at a safe distance +in his house and there was the street to give courage to his heart; the +street where men walked safe and secure, and where a worse fear than the +fear of death did not prowl secretly.</p> + +<p>After a little while, he got up from the stifling dust and walked slowly +on. The streets flared with lights and the gold letters painted large on +signboards in huge Chinese characters shone out, making a brave show. +There were open restaurants where he could have gone in, and there were +houses of entertainment, hung with paper lanterns, that invited passers +with a sound of music, but Leh Shin continued his mechanical walk, +having another purpose in his mind.</p> + +<p>He turned out of the lighted glare of the shops and struck along a back +alley, where one street lamp gave the sole illumination, and stopping at +a low, arched door cut deep in a wall, he knocked and was admitted. +Inside the entrance was another door heavily clamped with iron, which +gave admission down a long, narrow passage to a room beyond. It was a +small room, not unlike a prison, with heavy iron bars against the +corridors, and it was quite bare of furniture except for two deal +tables, around which a crowd of men stood playing for money with +impassive faces and greedy, grasping hands. There was no mixture of race +among the men who gambled; they were all Chinese, most of them clad in +indigo-blue trousers and tight vests, though some of them wore white +shirts and rakish straw hats. The young men had close-clipped hair and +looked like clever bull-terriers, but the older men wore long pigtails +wound round their heads in black, rope-like coils. The noise of dominoes +thrown out by the man who held the bank and the rattle of dice were +almost the only sounds in the room.</p> + +<p>Under one table there was a small shrine, where a diminutive Joss +presided over the fortunes of Chance, but Leh Shin did not go to it as +was his usual habit before he began to play. He even eyed it uneasily +and kept at the further end of the room.</p> + +<p>He played with varying success for an hour, for two hours, and the third +hour was running out before he shuffled off down the close passage, his +scanty winnings tied in the corner of a rag stuffed into his belt, and +was let out through the heavily barred doors into the street. The +alley-way was deserted, and Leh Shin went down the kennel into the open +place with the walk of a man who has something definite to do. A beggar, +who had been sitting huddled under the wall of a house opposite, craned +his neck out of the shadows, and followed him quickly.</p> + +<p>Leh Shin had passed this last hour deliberately, so as to bring himself +to some appointed place neither earlier nor later than he desired to +get there, and Coryndon woke to the excitement of the chase again as he +followed along the Colonnade. It was easy to walk quickly under the roof +that ran from the entrance down to the turn that led into Paradise +Street, and Leh Shin did not even pause as he passed his own doorway but +made on rapidly until he came out at the far end. The hour was very +late, and the street silent. A drop in the temperature had driven the +sleepers who usually preferred the open to the closeness of walls, +within, and the whole double row of houses slept with gaping windows and +open doors.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah's curio shop was entirely closed. Every window had outer +shutters fastened, and no gleam of light showed anywhere, up or down the +high narrow front. When Leh Shin stopped in front of the doorway the +beggar sat down opposite to him a little further down the street, his +head bowed on his bosom. He watched Leh Shin prowl carefully round and +climb with monkey-like agility from the rails to the window-ledge, where +he peered in through the shutters, raising a broken lath to see into the +interior.</p> + +<p>Coryndon watched him with intent interest. The night was moonless, he +knew that if a match were struck in the interior of the shop it would +shine through the raised lath, and it was for that sight that his eyes +strained and ached with intense concentration. The patience of the +Chinaman made Coryndon feel that he was watching for something definite +to happen, and at length a yellow bar cut suddenly across the dark. +Coryndon's heart beat so loud that he feared its sound might be heard +across the narrow street, and he gripped his hands together. The curio +shop was no longer dark, for someone had come in with a lamp; Coryndon +crept forward, his eyes on the Chinaman, who had slipped back on to the +ground and had raced up the steps, beating against the door violently.</p> + +<p>"Come out, father of lies, come out and speak with me. I have news of +thy Absalom."</p> + +<p>The beggar was at the foot of the steps now, close beside the dancing +image, who smiled and called his attention to the rigid figure of Leh +Shin.</p> + +<p>"So thou hast news for me, unclean one? Of this shall the police hear +full knowledge two hours after dawn. Where hast thou hidden the body of +the boy who was the light of mine eyes, who was ever eager and honest in +business?"</p> + +<p>"Thou knowest, traitor," said the Chinaman, his voice hoarse with +passion, "what is dark unto others is clear unto me. Have I not the tale +of thy years written in the book of my mind?"</p> + +<p>For a moment there was dead silence, and then a voice full of smooth +malice and cruelty made answer to Leh Shin.</p> + +<p>"Get thee to thy bed, fool."</p> + +<p>"I wait," Leh Shin's voice cracked and trembled, "and when the hour that +is already written for thy destruction comes like the night-bat, it is +<i>I</i> who shall proclaim it to thee; thus I have demanded, and thus it +shall fall out."</p> + +<p>"O fruitful boaster, O friend of many years, thy words cause me great +mirth. Get thee to thy kennel, lest I do indeed come forth and twist thy +vulture's neck."</p> + +<p>A laugh of scorn was the only response to Mhtoon Pah's threat, and the +Chinaman turned and came down the steps.</p> + +<p>"Alms, alms," whined a sleepy voice. "The poor are the children of the +Holy One. I am blind and I know not the faces of men. Alms, alms, that +thy merit may be written in the book."</p> + +<p>"Ask of him that is in that house," said Leh Shin, pointing to the curio +shop. "Strike him with thy pestilence that his fatness fall from him and +his bones melt, and I will give thee golden rewards."</p> + +<p>The secret passion of the words was so intense that the beggar was +silenced, and Leh Shin passed on. He went from Paradise Street to a +small burrow near the Colonnade, and turned into a mean house where the +paper lantern still burned in token that the owners were awake. It was +quite clean inside, and divided into large cubicles. In each cubicle was +a table, covered with oilcloth, at the head of which was placed a red +lacquer pillow and a little glass lamp that gave the only light needed +in the long, low room. On the tables lay Burmen and Chinamen, some rigid +in drugged sleep, and some smoking immense pipes with small, cup-like +receptacles that held the opium. The proprietor was alert and wakeful as +he flitted about, an American cigarette between his lips, in this +strange garden of sleep.</p> + +<p>"I am weary," said Leh Shin. "Let me rest here."</p> + +<p>"It is great honour," replied the small, wizened old man, with the +laugh. "What of thine own house by the river?"</p> + +<p>"My limbs fail me. To-night my assistant supplies the needs of those who +ask, for I had a business."</p> + +<p>"And I trust thy business hath prospered with thee?"</p> + +<p>Leh Shin stretched himself out on a table near the door.</p> + +<p>"I await the hour of prosperity,"—he twisted a needle in the brown mass +that was offered to him and held it over the lamp. "Evil are the days of +a life whilst an old grudge burns like hot charcoal in the heart."</p> + +<p>"It is even so," agreed the proprietor, and he hurried away from the +noose of talk that Leh Shin would have cast around him.</p> + +<p>The beggar, having followed Leh Shin as far as the opium den, returned +along the Colonnade and knocked at the door of the house where Shiraz +waited anxiously for his master.</p> + +<p>"Is my bath prepared, Shiraz? I must wash before I sleep, and I shall +sleep late."</p> + +<p>Coryndon was weary. No one who has not watched through hours of strain +and suspense knows the utter weariness of mind and body that follows +upon the long effort of close attention, and he fell upon his bed in a +huddled heap and slept for hour after hour, worn out in brain and body.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII" />XVII</h2> + +<h3>TELLS HOW CORYNDON LEARNS FROM THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH WHAT THE REV. +FRANCIS HEATH NEVER TOLD HIM.</h3> + + +<p>When Coryndon sat up in his bed, and recalled himself with a jerk from +the drowsiness of night to the wakefulness of broad daylight, he called +Shiraz to give to him instructions.</p> + +<p>After dark, his master told him, he was going to return to the +Cantonments, and during his absence there were some matters which he had +decided to leave unreservedly in the hands of Shiraz. He was to +cultivate his acquaintance with Leh Shin, the Chinaman, worming his way +into his confidence and encouraging him to speak fully of the old hatred +that was still like live fire between him and the wealthy curio dealer. +Revenge may or may not take the shape and substance of the original +wrong done, and the limited intelligence of the Chinaman would suggest +payment in the same coin, so it was necessary for Coryndon to know the +actual facts of the ancient grudge. Further than this, Shiraz was to go +to the shop of Mhtoon Pah, and discover anything he could in the course +of conversation with the Burman.</p> + +<p>"Mark well all that is said, that when I return it may be disclosed to +mine eyes through thy spectacles," he concluded, tying the ragged ends +of his head-scarf over his forehead.</p> + +<p>He went down the staircase with a slow, dragging step, leaning on the +rail of the Colonnade when he got out into the street, and halting, with +a vacant stare, outside the shop of Leh Shin.</p> + +<p>"So thy devils have not yet caught thee and scalded thee with oil, or +burned thee in quicklime?" jeered the boy, as he watched a coolie sweep +out the shop.</p> + +<p>He was chewing a raw onion, and he swung his legs idly, for there was +nothing to do, and, on the whole, he was glad to have the mad Burman to +bait for half an hour's entertainment.</p> + +<p>"The sickness is heavy upon me, my legs are loaded as with wet sand, and +my mouth is parched like a rock in the desert," whined the Burman +plaintively.</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, not <i>thy</i> legs, and <i>thy</i> tongue. The legs and the mouth of +the evil man, thy friend, O dolt."</p> + +<p>The Burman shook his head stupidly.</p> + +<p>"The will of the Holy Ones is that I shall recover, and my friend has +said that I shall go a journey. I go by the terrain this night at +sunset."</p> + +<p>"Whither doth he send thee, unclean one?"</p> + +<p>The Burman smiled with a sudden look of cunning.</p> + +<p>"That is a word unspoken, and neither will I tell it. Thy desire to know +what concerns thee not is as great as thy fatness."</p> + +<p>With a doggedness that is often part of some forms of mania, the Burman +squatted in the dust, and under no provocation could he be induced to +speak. After midday he indicated by lifting his fingers to his mouth +that he intended to go in search of food; having worked Leh Shin's +assistant into a state of perspiring wrath by the simple process of +reiterating in pantomime that he was dumb. It must be admitted that +Coryndon got no small amount of pleasure out of his morning's +entertainment, and he doubled himself up as though in pain as he dragged +himself back to the house.</p> + +<p>The vanished beggar's tracks were entirely obliterated, and when the +Burman went off in a <i>gharry</i> in company with Shiraz, the whole street +knew that he was being sent away on a secret mission of great +importance.</p> + +<p>To know something that other people do not know is to be in some way +their superior. It is a popular fallacy to believe that we all of us are +gifted with special insight. The dullest bore believes it of himself, +but when it comes to the possession of an absolute fact superiority +becomes unmistakable, particularly in circumscribed localities, and Leh +Shin's assistant remembered how the sudden dumbness of the crazy Burman +had irked his own soul. He told a little of what he professed to know, +and having done so, refused to admit more, and so it was current in the +Bazaar that the friend of the rich Punjabi was gone to receive money +paid for jewels, and that the place of his destination was known only to +Leh Shin's assistant, who, having sworn on oath, would by no means +divulge the name of the place.</p> + +<p>Even Leh Shin, who awoke late, appeared interested, and asked questions +that made the gross, flabby boy think hard before he replied; and the +mystery that attached itself to the departure of the Burman lent an +added interest to Shiraz, who returned after the usual hour of prayer at +the Mosque, and paced slowly up the street, meditating upon a verse from +the Koran. The evening light softened and the shadows grew long, making +the Colonnade dark a full hour before the street outside was wrapped in +the smoky gloom of twilight and the charcoal fires were lighted to cook +the evening meal, and by the time that the first clear globes of +electric light dotted Paradise Street Coryndon was back in his room and +dressed ready to go out to dinner.</p> + +<p>Hartley received the wanderer with enthusiasm, and began at once by +telling him that he had an invitation for him which was growing stale by +long keeping. Mrs. Wilder was giving a very small party and both the +Head of the Police and his friend were invited.</p> + +<p>"I accepted definitely for myself, and conditionally for you," said +Hartley cheerfully. "Now I will ring up Wilder and tell him that the +prodigal has reappeared, and that you will come."</p> + +<p>Coryndon submitted to the inevitable with a good grace; it was one of +his best social qualifications, and arose from a keen sensitiveness that +made it nearly impossible for him ever to disappoint anyone. He had +hoped for a quiet evening, when he might expect to get to bed early and +have time to think over every tiny detail of his time in the Mangadone +Bazaar; but as this was not possible, he agreed with sufficient alacrity +to deceive his kind host.</p> + +<p>His face was drawn and tired, and his eyes were heavy; he noticed this +as he glanced into his glass, but after all it did not matter. His +social importance was small, and for to-night he was nothing more than +an adjunct of Hartley, a mere postscript put in out of formal +politeness. He was not going in order to please Mrs. Wilder—though, as +she appeared on his mental list of names, she had her place in the +structure that filled his mind—but to please Hartley. Any time would +have done for Mrs. Wilder, she was but a cypher in the total, but if he +had begged off to-night he would have had to hurt Hartley. Coryndon +could never get away from the other man's point of view; it dogged him +in great things and in small, and he was obliged to realize Hartley's +pleasure in seeing him, and his further pleasure in carrying him off to +a house where he himself enjoyed life thoroughly. Coryndon could as +easily have disappointed a child, or been cruel to a small, wagging +puppy as to Hartley in his present mood.</p> + +<p>He knew that he would have to shut the door upon his dominating thought, +unless something occurred to open it during the evening. Women liked to +play with fire, and he wondered if Mrs. Wilder would show any +inclination to fiddle with gunpowder, but he hardly expected that she +would, though she had played some part in the extensive drama that +reached from Heath's bungalow to the Colonnade in the Chinese quarter, +leaving a gap between that his brain struggled with in vain.</p> + +<p>It was like the imaginable space between life and death, where both +conditions existed, and one was the key to the other. Something was +lacking. One small master touch wanting to lay the whole thing bare of +mystery. Coryndon's weary eyes reflected the state of his mind. He felt +like an inventor who is baffled for the lack of a tiny clue that makes +the impossible natural and easy, or a composer who hears a refrain and +cannot call it into birth in clear defiant chords. To think too much +when thought cannot carry the mind over the limiting barrier is to spend +substance on fruitless effort, and Coryndon deliberately shut the door +of his mind and put the key away before he started out with Hartley.</p> + +<p>The night was clear as the two men went off together hatless through the +soft moonlight. Neither Coryndon nor Hartley talked much as they walked +by a short cut across the park to the Wilders' bungalow, a servant +carrying a lantern going before them like a dim will-o'-the-wisp; the +yellow lamplight paling into an ineffectual blur against the clear +moonlight.</p> + +<p>"I think it is only ourselves," said Hartley after a long pause. "You +are looking a bit done, Coryndon, so you'll be glad if it isn't a late +night."</p> + +<p>Coryndon agreed, and conversation flagged again. They crossed the road, +turned up the avenue and were lost in the shadows of the trees, coming +out again into a white bay of light outside the door.</p> + +<p>Everyone, man or woman, who is endowed at birth with a sensitive nature +is subject to occasional inrushes of detachment that without warning cut +him off from realities for moments or hours, converting everyday matters +into the consistency of dream-life. It was through this medium that +Coryndon saw Mrs. Wilder when he came into the large upstairs +drawing-room. It would have annoyed her to know that she appeared +indefinite and shadowy to his mind, just as it annoyed Alice when she +was told that she was only "Something in the Red King's dream," but +Coryndon could not help his sensations. Mrs. Wilder was smiling with her +careless, easy, confident smile, and yet he saw only an unaccounted bit +of the puzzle, that he could not fit in. She was dressed in the latest +fashion, and talked with a kind of regal amiability, but nevertheless, +she was not a real woman, a real hostess, or a positive entity; she was +vague, and the touch of her floating personality added to the baffled +sensation that drained Coryndon's mind of concentrated force, and made +him physically exhausted.</p> + +<p>Wilder had something to say to Hartley, and Coryndon handed himself over +like a coat or an umbrella to Mrs. Wilder, who, he knew, was placing a +low valuation upon him, and was already a little impatient at his lack +of vitality. She was calling him a bore, behind her fine, hard eyes, and +having exhausted Mangadone in a few sentences, wondered what sort of +bore he really was. There were golf bores, fishing bores, and shooting +bores, but Coryndon hardly appeared to belong to any of those families, +and she began to suspect him of "superiority," a type of bore aggressive +to others of his cult. Mrs. Wilder did not tolerate a type to which she +herself undoubtedly owned to some slight connection, and she gave up all +effort to awaken interest in the slim, weary young man, who looked +half-asleep.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Heath ought to be here directly," she said, in her loud, clear +voice. "Draycott, don't forget to ask him to say grace."</p> + +<p>If she had got up and taken Coryndon by the shoulders and shaken him, +the effect could not have been more marked and sudden. All the dull +feeling of detachment cleared off at once, and he knew that his senses +were sharp and acute; his bodily fatigue fell away, and as he moved in +his chair his eyes turned towards the door.</p> + +<p>"I wish he would hurry," growled Wilder, a prey to the pessimism of the +half-hour before dinner. "He is inexcusably late as it is."</p> + +<p>As though his words had summoned the Rev. Francis Heath, footsteps +mounting the staircase followed Wilder's remark, and the clergyman came +into the room. Immediately upon his coming, conversation became general, +and a few moments later the party was seated round a small table kept +for intimate gatherings, and placed in the centre of the large +teak-panelled room. An arrangement of plumbago and maidenhair, and pale +blue shaded candles casting a dim light, carried out the saxe blue +effect that Mrs. Wilder had evolved with the assistance of a ladies' +paper that dealt with "effective and original table decoration."</p> + +<p>In spite of Mrs. Wilder's efforts, assisted as they were by Hartley, +conversation flagged for the first two courses. Heath was not exactly +awkward, but he was conscious of the fact that he and Hartley had had an +unpleasant interview, buried by the passing of a few weeks, but by no +means peaceful in its grave. There was just a suggestion of strain in +his manner, and he was evidently carrying through a duty in being there +at all, rather than out for pleasant society.</p> + +<p>Coryndon observed him carefully, particularly when he talked to his +hostess. If she was helping to screen him, the clergyman was too honest +not to show some sign of gratitude either in his manner or in his +deep-set eyes, and yet no such indication was evident. Coryndon +disassociated his mind from the history of the case, and saw austerity +flavoured with a near approach to disapproval. Judging by externals, the +Rev. Francis Heath held no very exalted opinion of his hostess.</p> + +<p>"She has done nothing for him," he said to himself. "If obligation +exists, it is the other way round," and he proceeded to watch Mrs. +Wilder's manner towards her clerical guest with heightening interest.</p> + +<p>Usually she was very sure of herself, more especially so in her own +house, and surrounded with the evidences of her husband's official rank. +When Mrs. Wilder talked to the poor, insignificant Padré who could be of +no real social assistance to her, she changed her manner, the manner +that she directed pointedly towards Coryndon, and became quelled and +softened.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder, propitiatory and diffident, was, Coryndon felt, Mrs. Wilder +caught out somehow and somewhere; perhaps on the night of the 29th of +July, and as he considered it, Coryndon knew that the shoe was on a much +smaller foot than Hartley had measured for it, and that the secret +understanding between Heath and Mrs. Wilder was one-sided in its +benefits.</p> + +<p>Hartley had recounted the story of the fainting fit as a landmark by +which he remembered where he was himself, and, adding this fact to what +he observed, Coryndon put Mrs. Wilder on one side and mentally drew a +red-ink line under her total. He knew all he needed to know about her, +and she had no further interest for his mind. He talked to her husband +when once he had satisfied himself definitely, and as dinner wore on the +atmosphere became more genial and less strained than when it had begun.</p> + +<p>"By the way," said Wilder carelessly, "was it ever discovered how that +fellow Rydal got clear of the country?"</p> + +<p>He spoke to Hartley, but Heath, who had been talking across the table to +Coryndon, lost his place, stumbled and recovered himself with +difficulty, and then lapsed into silence. Hartley had a few things to +say about Rydal, but chief among them was the astounding fact that he +had dodged the police, who were watching the wharves and jetties, and, +so far as he knew, the man had never left Mangadone.</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose that he got away disguised?"</p> + +<p>"Impossible," said Hartley, with decision. "He was a big, fair +Englishman with blue eyes. Nothing on earth could have made him look +anything else. It was too risky to attempt that game."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder was not interested in Rydal, and she sprayed Coryndon with +light, pointless conversation, leaving Heath to his meditations for the +moment. Hartley would have enjoyed a private talk with his hostess +because he loved her platonically, and because it was impossible he was +distrait and jerky, trying to appear cordial towards Heath. It was one +of those evenings that make everyone concerned wonder why they ever +began it, and though Coryndon was of all the invited guests the one who +found least favour in the eyes of his hostess, he was the only one who +felt glad that he had come, and was perfectly convinced that it had been +worth it.</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis Heath rose early to take his leave; and there was a +distinct impression of relief when he had gone.</p> + +<p>"That Padré is like wet blotting-paper," said Wilder, when he came back +into the drawing-room. "No more duty invitations, Clarice, or else wait +until I am out in camp."</p> + +<p>"He is a bore," said Mrs. Wilder, throwing her late guest to the sharks +without remorse. "But I suppose he can't help it. He may have something +to worry him." She just indicated her point with a glance at Hartley, +who murmured incoherently and became interested in his drink.</p> + +<p>"Parsons are all alike," said Wilder, who fully believed that he stated +an obvious fact. "I feel as if I ought to apologize for not going to +church whenever I meet one."</p> + +<p>"He <i>is</i> a bore," repeated Mrs. Wilder. "But he is finished with for the +present."</p> + +<p>Coryndon looked up.</p> + +<p>"I suppose one is inclined to mix up a man with his profession, as +people often mix up nationalities with races, forgetting that they are +absolutely apart. Heath is not my idea of a clergyman."</p> + +<p>"And what is your idea?" asked Mrs. Wilder, with a smile that was +slightly encouraging.</p> + +<p>"A man with less temperament," said Coryndon slowly. "Heath lacks a +certain commonplace courage, because he feels things too much. He is not +altogether honest with himself or his congregation, because he has the +protective instinct over-developed. If I had a secret I should feel that +it was perfectly safe with Heath."</p> + +<p>A slow red stain showed itself on Mrs. Wilder's cheek, and she gave a +hard, mechanical laugh.</p> + +<p>"Are these the deductions of one evening? No wonder you are a silent +man, Mr. Coryndon."</p> + +<p>If Coryndon had been a cross-examining counsel instead of a guest at a +dinner-party, he would have thanked Mrs. Wilder politely and told her +that she might "step down." As it was, he assured her that he was only +attracted by certain personalities, and that, usually speaking, he did +not analyse his impressions.</p> + +<p>"He is a bore," said Mrs. Wilder, making the statement for the third +time that evening, and thus disposing of Heath definitely.</p> + +<p>"It wasn't up to the usual mark," said Hartley, half-apologetically as +he and Coryndon walked home together. "I felt so awkward about meeting +Heath." He paused and looked at Coryndon, longing to put a question to +him, but not wishing to break their agreement as to silence.</p> + +<p>"Tell me about Rydal," said Coryndon in the voice of a man who shifts a +conversation adroitly. "I don't remember your having mentioned the +case."</p> + +<p>Hartley had not much to tell. The man had been in a position of +responsibility in the Mangadone Bank, and Joicey had given information +against him the very day he absconded. Rydal was married, and the cruel +part of the story lay in the fact that he had deserted his wife on her +deathbed, fully aware that she was dying.</p> + +<p>"She died the evening he left, or was supposed to have left. At all +events, the evening he disappeared."</p> + +<p>"And the date?"</p> + +<p>Coryndon's eyes were turned on Hartley's face, and he heard him laugh.</p> + +<p>"You'll hardly believe it, but it happened, like everything else, on the +twenty-ninth of July."</p> + +<p>"Can your boy look after me for a few days?" Coryndon asked quietly. "I +was not able to bring my bearer with me, and I may have to be here for a +little longer than I had expected."</p> + +<p>"Of course he can."</p> + +<p>They walked into the bungalow together, and it surprised and distressed +Hartley to see how white and weary the face of his friend showed under +the hanging lamp.</p> + +<p>"I ought not to have dragged you out," he said remorsefully.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad you did."</p> + +<p>There was so much sincerity in Coryndon's tone that Hartley was +satisfied, and he saw him into his room before he went off, whistling to +his dog and calling out a cheery "Good night."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII" />XVIII</h2> + +<h3>THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH UNLOCKS HIS DOOR AND SHOWS WHAT LIES BEHIND</h3> + + +<p>When Coryndon made up his mind to any particular course of action and +time pressed, he left nothing to chance. Under ordinary circumstances, +he was perfectly ready to wait and let things happen naturally; and so +greatly did he adhere to this belief in chance that he always hesitated +to make anything deliberately certain. Had he felt that he could allow +time to bring circumstance into his grasp, he would have preferred to do +so, but, as he sat on the side of his bed, his <i>chota haziri</i> untouched +on a table at his elbow, he knew that every minute counted, and that he +must come out of the shadow and deliberately face and force the +position.</p> + +<p>If he could always have worked in the dark he would have done so, and no +one ever guessed how unwillingly he disclosed himself. He was a shadow +in the great structure of criminal investigation, and he came and went +like a shadow. When it was possible he vanished out of his completed +case before his agency was detected, and as he sat thinking, he wondered +if Hartley could not be trusted with the task that lay before him that +day, but even as the thought came into his mind he decided against it. +Opportunity must be nailed like false coin to the counter, and there +could be no question of leaving a meeting to the last moment of chance. +He had to make sure of his man; that was the first step.</p> + +<p>During the course of an idle morning, Coryndon wandered to the church, +and saw that at 5.30 p.m. the Rev. Francis Heath was holding service. +After the service there would be a choir practice, and Coryndon, having +made a mental note of the hour, went back to luncheon with Hartley.</p> + +<p>The afternoon sunlight was dreaming in the garden, and the drowsy air +was full of the scent of flowers. Coryndon had something to do, and he +was wise enough to make no settled plan as to how he would do it, +beforehand. He put away all thought of Absalom and the other lives +connected with the disappearance of the Christian boy, and let his +thoughts drift out, drawing in the light and colour of the world +outside.</p> + +<p>Yesterday has power over to-day; to-morrow even greater power, for +to-morrow holds a gift or a whip, and Coryndon knew this, thinking out +his little philosophy of life. To be able to handle a situation which +may require a strength that is above tact or diplomacy, he knew that all +those yesterdays must give their store of gathered strength and +knowledge.</p> + +<p>As there was no running water to watch, Coryndon watched the shadows and +the light playing hide-and-go-seek through the leaves, through his +half-closed eyes. They made a pattern on the ground, and the pattern was +faultless in its beauty. Nature alone can do such things. He looked at +the far-off trees of the park, green now, to turn into soft blue masses +later on when the day waned, and the intrinsic value of blue as colour +flitted over his fancy. The music that was part of his nature rippled +and sang in obligato to his thoughts, and because he loved music he +loved colour and knew the connection between sound and tint. Colour, to +its lightest, least value, was music, expressing itself in another way.</p> + +<p>Hartley went out with his dog; went softly because he believed his +friend slept, and Coryndon did not stir. Somewhere in the centre of +things actual, Hartley lived his cheerful, happy life, dreaming when he +was lonely of the woman who darned his socks and smiled at him. In +Coryndon's life there was no woman either visionary or real, and he +wondered why he was exempt from these natural dreams of a man. He was +very humble about himself. He knew that he was only a tracker, a brain +that carried a body, not a healthy animal body that controlled the +greater part of a brain. He was given the power to grip motives and to +read hearts, and beyond that he only lived in his fingers when he +played. He had his dreams for company when he shut the door on the other +half of his active brain, and he had his own thrills of excitement and +intense joy when he found what he was seeking, but beyond this there was +nothing, and he asked for nothing. Blue shadows, and a drifting into +peace, that was the end. He pulled himself together abruptly, for it was +five o'clock, and time for him to start.</p> + +<p>When Coryndon had drunk some tea, he started out on foot to St. Jude's +Church. He knew that he would get there in time to find the Rev. Francis +Heath. The choir practice did not take very long, and as he walked into +the church they were singing the last verses of a hymn. Heath sat in one +of the choir pews, a sombre figure in his black cassock, listening +attentively.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Happy birds that sing and fly<br /></span> +<span>Round Thy altars, O Most High."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The choir sang the "Amen," and sang it false, because they were in a +hurry to troop out of the church; the girls were whispering and +collecting gloves and books, and the boys were already clattering off +with an air of relief. Heath spoke to the organist, making some +suggestion in his grave, quiet voice, and when he turned, Coryndon was +standing in the chancel.</p> + +<p>"Can I speak to you for a moment?" he asked easily.</p> + +<p>"Come into the vestry," said Heath quietly. "We shall be undisturbed +there."</p> + +<p>He went down the chancel steps and opened a door at the side, waiting +for Coryndon to go in, and closing the door behind them. A table stood +in the middle of the room with a few books and papers on it, and a +square window lighted it from the western wall; there were only two +chairs in the room, and Heath put one of them near the table for his +visitor, and took the other himself.</p> + +<p>He did not know what he expected Coryndon to say; men very rarely came +to him like this, but he felt that it was possible that he was in +search of something true and definite. Truth was in his eyes, and his +dark, fine face was earnest as he bent forward and looked full at the +clergyman.</p> + +<p>"What can I do for you?"</p> + +<p>Heath put the question tentatively, conscious of a sudden quick tension +in the atmosphere.</p> + +<p>Coryndon's eyes fixed on him, like gripping hands, and he leaned a +little over the table.</p> + +<p>"You can tell me how and when you got Rydal out of the country."</p> + +<p>For a moment, it seemed to Heath that the whole room rocked, and that +blackness descended upon him in waves, blotting out the face of the man +who asked the question, destroying his identity, and leaving him only +the knowledge that the secret that he had guarded with all the strength +of his soul was known, inexplicably, to Hartley's friend. He tried to +frame a reply, but his words faltered through dry lips, and his face was +white and set.</p> + +<p>"Why should you say that I helped Rydal?"</p> + +<p>"Because," Coryndon's answer came quickly, "you told me so yourself last +night at dinner."</p> + +<p>He heard Coryndon speak again, very slowly, so that every word came +clear into the confusion of his throbbing brain.</p> + +<p>"I knew from Hartley that you were in Paradise Street on the evening of +the twenty-ninth of July, and that you saw and spoke to Absalom. I am +concerned in the case of finding that boy or his murderer, and anything +you can tell me may be of help to me in putting my facts together. I had +to come to your confidence by a direct question. Will you pardon me +when you consider my motive? I am not concerned with Rydal: my case is +with Absalom."</p> + +<p>He looked sympathetically at the worn, drawn face across the table, that +was white and sick with recent fear.</p> + +<p>"Tell me the events just as they came," he said gently. "You may be able +to cast light on the matter."</p> + +<p>Heath looked up, and his eyes expressed his silent acceptance of +Coryndon's honesty of purpose.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you, Mr. Coryndon. God knows that the case of this boy has +haunted me night and day. He was my best pupil, and when Hartley accused +me by inference, of complicity, I suffered as I believe few men have had +to suffer because I could not speak. I may not be able to assist you +very far, but all I know you shall know if you will listen to me +patiently."</p> + +<p>Heath relapsed into silence for some little time, and when he spoke +again it was with the manner of a man who gives all his facts +accurately. He omitted no detail and he set the story of Rydal before +Coryndon, plainly and clearly.</p> + +<p>Rydal had been a clerk in the Mangadone Bank, and had been in the place +for some years before he went home and returned with a wife. He was an +honest and kindly young fellow and he worked hard. There was no flaw in +his record, and Heath believed that he was under the influence of a very +genuine religious feeling. He frequently came to see Heath, who knew his +character thoroughly, and knew that he was weak in many respects. He +talked enthusiastically of the girl he was going to marry, and Heath saw +him off on the liner when Rydal got his leave and, full of glad +anticipation, went away to bring out his wife.</p> + +<p>When the clergyman had reached this point in his story, he got up and +paced the floor a couple of times, his monkish face sad and troubled, +and his eyes full of the tragic revelations that had yet to be made.</p> + +<p>Coryndon did not hurry the narrative. He was engaged in calling up the +mental presentment of the young happy man. Heath had described him as +"fresh-looking," and had said that his manner was frank and always +kindly; he was friendly to weakness, kindly to weakness, his virtues all +tagged off into inefficient lack of grip; but he was honest and he found +life good. That was how Rydal had started, that was the Rydal who had +gripped Heath's hand as he stood on the deck of the <i>Worcestershire</i> and +thought of the girl whom he was going home to marry.</p> + +<p>"I still see him as I saw him then," said Heath, with a catch in his +voice. "He was so sure of all the good things of life, and he had +managed to save enough to furnish the bungalow by the river. I had gone +over it with him the day before he sailed, and his pride in it all was +very touching."</p> + +<p>Coryndon nodded his head, and Heath took up the story again, standing +with his hands on the back of the chair.</p> + +<p>"Rydal came back at the end of three months, his wife with him. She was +a pretty, silly creature, and her ideas of her social importance were +out of all keeping with Rydal's humble position in the Bank. She dressed +herself extravagantly, and began to entertain on a scale that was +ridiculous considering their poverty. Before their marriage, Rydal had +told me that it was a love match, and that she was as poor as he, as all +her own people could do for her was to make a small allowance sufficient +for her clothes."</p> + +<p>Coryndon sat very still. Heath had come to the point where the real +interest began: he could see this on the sad face that turned towards +the western window.</p> + +<p>"In the early hours of one morning towards the end of July," went on +Heath wearily, "I was awakened by Rydal coming into my room. I could see +at once that he was in desperate trouble, and he sat down near me and +hid his face in his hands and cried like a child. There was enough in +his story to account for his tears, God knows. His wife was ill, perhaps +dying; he told me that first, but that I already knew, and then he made +his confession to me. He had embezzled money from the bank and it could +only be a matter of hours before a warrant was issued for his arrest. I +must not dwell too long on these details, but they are all part of the +story, and without them you could not understand my own place in what +follows. It is sufficient to tell you that I returned at once with him, +and his wife added her appeal to mine to make her husband agree to leave +the country. If she lived, she could join him later, but if he was +arrested before she died, she could only feel double torment and +remorse. In the end we prevailed upon him to agree to go. The sin was +not his morally"—Heath's voice rose in passionate vindication of his +act—"in my eyes, and, I believe, in the eyes of God, the man was not +responsible. I grant you his criminal weakness, I grant you his fall +from honour and honesty, but then and now I know that I did right. The +one chance for his soul's welfare was the chance of escape. Prison would +have broken and destroyed him. A white man among native criminals. His +life had been a good life, and an open, honest life up to the time that +his wife's constant demand for what he could not give broke down the +barriers and made him a felon."</p> + +<p>He wiped his face with his handkerchief and drew a deep breath. This was +how he had argued the point with himself, and he still held to the +validity of his argument.</p> + +<p>"That was early on the morning of July the twenty-ninth?" asked +Coryndon.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that was the date. There was a small tramp in port, going to South +America. I had once been of some little assistance to the captain, and I +knew that he would do much to serve me. I went on board her at once, and +saw him, disguising none of the facts or the risk it entailed, and he +agreed willingly to assist Rydal. He was to be at a certain point below +the wharves that evening, and the <i>Lady Helen</i> was to send a boat in to +pick him up."</p> + +<p>"I understand," said Coryndon, "the warrant was issued about noon the +same day?"</p> + +<p>"As far as I know, Joicey gave information against him just about then, +but he had already left the bungalow. I went down Paradise Street to +make my way out along the river bank at a little after six o'clock. I +passed Absalom in the street and spoke a word to the boy, but time was +pressing and I did not dare to be late. It was of the utmost importance +that there should be no hitch in any part of the plan, for the <i>Lady +Helen</i> could not delay over an hour. I got to the appointed place by the +river just after twilight had come on—"</p> + +<p>"Were you seen by anyone?"</p> + +<p>Heath paused and thought for a moment.</p> + +<p>"I would like to deal entirely candidly with you, Mr. Coryndon, but, +with your permission, I must avoid any mention of names. As it happened, +I <i>was</i> seen, but I believe that the person who saw me has no connection +with either my own place in this story or the story itself so far as it +affects Absalom. I saw Rydal go. He went in silence, an utterly +broken-hearted and ruined man, and only ten months divided that day from +the day that he stood on the deck of the <i>Worcestershire</i> filled with +every hope the heart of a man knows. Behind him, his wife lying near +death in the little house his love had provided for her, and nothing lay +before him but utter desolation. I watched the boat take him away into +the darkness, and I saw the lights of the <i>Lady Helen</i> quite clearly, +and then I saw her move slowly off, and I knew that Rydal was safe."</p> + +<p>He paused and stared into the darkness of the room, seeing the whole +picture again, and feeling the awful misery of the broken man who had +gone by the way of transgressors. The man who had once been +light-hearted and happy, who had sung in his choir, and who had read the +lessons for the Rev. Francis Heath and helped him with his boys.</p> + +<p>Coryndon's face showed his tense, close interest as the clergyman spoke +again.</p> + +<p>"I was standing there for some time, how long I do not know, when I saw +that I was not alone, and that I was being watched by a Chinaman. I knew +the boy by sight, and must have seen him before somewhere else. He was a +large, repulsive creature, and appeared to have come from one of the +houses near the river, where there are Coringyhis and low-caste natives +of India. At the time I remarked nothing, but when the boy saw that he +had attracted my attention, he started into a run, and left me without +speaking. The incident was so trifling that it hardly made me uneasy. No +one had seen me actually with Rydal—"</p> + +<p>"You are quite clear on that point? Not even the other person you +alluded to?"</p> + +<p>"I can be perfectly clear. I passed the other person going in the +opposite direction, before I joined Rydal. On the way back I saw Absalom +again, and he was with the Chinaman whom I already mentioned; they did +not notice me, and they were talking eagerly; my mind was overful of +other things, and you will understand that I did not think of them then, +but, as far as I remember, they went towards the fishermen's quarter on +the river bank. I cannot be sure of this."</p> + +<p>Coryndon did not stir; the gloom was deep now, and yet neither of the +men thought of calling for lights.</p> + +<p>"And the Chinaman?"</p> + +<p>Heath flung out his arms with a violent gesture.</p> + +<p>"He had seen and recognized Rydal, and he had the craftiness to realize +that his knowledge was of value. Next day everyone in Mangadone knew +that the hue and cry was out after the absconded clerk. He had betrayed +his trust, cheated and defrauded his employers, and left his wife to die +alone, for she died that night, and I was with her. That was the story +in Mangadone. It was known in the Bazaar, and how or when it came to the +ears of the Chinaman I cannot tell you, but out of his knowledge he came +to me, and I paid him to keep silence. He has come several times of +late, and I will give him no more money. Rydal is safe. I have heard +from him, and the law will hardly catch him now. I know my complicity, I +know my own danger, but I have never regretted it." Again the surging +flood of passion swept into Heath's voice. "What is my life or my +reputation set against the value of one living soul? Rydal is working +honestly, his penitence is no mere matter of protestation, his whole +nature has been strengthened by the awful experience he has passed +through. How it may appear to others I cannot say, and do not greatly +care. In the eyes of God I am vindicated, and stand clear of blame."</p> + +<p>He towered gaunt against the light from the window behind him, and +though Coryndon could not see his face, he knew that it was lighted with +a great rapture of self-denial and spiritual glory.</p> + +<p>"You need fear no further trouble from the boy," he said, rising to his +feet. "I can tell you that definitely. I am neither a judge nor a +bishop, Mr. Heath, but I can tell you honestly from my heart that I +think you were justified."</p> + +<p>He went out into the darkness that had come black over the evening +during the hour he had sat with Heath, and as he walked back to the +bungalow he thought of the man he had just left. There had been no need +for Coryndon to question him about Mrs. Wilder: her secret mission to +the river interested him no further. Heath had protected her and had +kept silence where her name was concerned, and yet she chose to belittle +him in her idle, insolent fashion.</p> + +<p>He thought of Heath sitting by the bed of the dying woman, and he +thought of him following the wake of the <i>Lady Helen</i> down the dark +river with sad, sorrowful eyes, and through the thought there came a +strange thrill to his own soul, because he touched the hem of the +garment of the Everlasting Mercy, hidden away, pushed out of life, and +forgotten in garrulous hours full of idle chatter.</p> + +<p>Yet Mrs. Wilder had announced with her regal finality no less than three +times in the hearing of Coryndon the previous evening that the Rev. +Francis Heath was "a bore."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX" />XIX</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH LEH SHIN WHISPERS A STORY INTO THE EAR OF SHIRAZ, THE PUNJABI; +THE BURDEN OF WHICH IS: "HAVE I FOUND THEE, O MINE ENEMY?"</h3> + + +<p>A man with a grievance, however silent he may be by nature, is, +generally speaking, voluble upon the subject of his wrongs, real or +imaginary; but a man with a grudge is intrinsically different. An old +grudge or an old hate are silent things, because they have deep roots +and do not require attention, and it is only in flashes of sudden +feeling, or when the means to the end is in view, that the man with a +grudge reveals details and tells his story. Shiraz paid several visits +to, and spent some time in the shop of, Leh Shin before he arrived at +what he wanted to know.</p> + +<p>He went also to Mhtoon Pah's shop, but came away without discovering +anything. Into the ears of Hartley, Head of the Police, the Burman raged +and screamed his passionate hate, because he believed it promoted his +object; but to the Punjabi he was smooth and complaisant, and refused to +be drawn into any admission. Leh Shin, the Chinaman, was Bazaar dust to +his dignity, and he knew naught of him, save only that the man had an +evil name earned by evil deeds, and Shiraz, who was as crafty as Mhtoon +Pah, saw that he had come to a "no thoroughfare" and turned his wits +towards Leh Shin.</p> + +<p>Little by little, and without any apparent motive, he worked the +Chinaman up to the point where silence is agony, and at last, as a river +in flood crashes over the mud-banks, the whole tale of his wrongs came +bursting through his closed mouth, and with the sweat pouring down his +yellow face he out it into words.</p> + +<p>The meanest story receives something vital in its constitution when it +is told with all the force and conviction of years of hatred behind the +simple fact of expression, and the story that Leh Shin recounted to +Shiraz was a mean story. The Chinaman had the true Eastern capacity for +remembering the least item in the long account that lay unsettled +between himself and the Burman. His memory was a safe in which the +smallest fact connected with it was kept intact and his mind traversed +an interminable road of detail.</p> + +<p>The two men had begun life as friends. The friendship between them dated +back to the days when Leh Shin and Mhtoon Pah were small boys running +together in the streets of Mangadone, and no antipathy that is a first +instinct has ever the depth of root given to the bitterness that can +spring from a breach in long friendship, and Leh Shin and Mhtoon Pah +hated as only old friends ever do hate.</p> + +<p>Leh Shin started in life with all the advantages that Mhtoon Pah lacked, +and he appreciated the slavish friendship of the Burman, which grew with +years. Mhtoon Pah became a clerk on scanty pay in the employ of a rice +firm, and Leh Shin, at his father's death, became sole owner of the +house in Paradise Street; no insignificant heritage, as it was stocked +with a store of things that increased in value with age, and in the +guise of his greatest friend Mhtoon Pah was made welcome at the shop +whenever he had time to go there. From his clerkship in the firm of rice +merchants Mhtoon Pah, at the insistence of his friend, became part +partner in the increasing destiny of the curio shop. He travelled for +Leh Shin, and brought back wares and stores in days when railways were +only just beginning to be heard of, and it was difficult and even +dangerous to bring goods across the Shan frontier. He had the control of +a credit trust, though not of actual money, and for a time the +partnership prospered. Mhtoon Pah was always conscious that he was a +subordinate depending on the good will of his principal, and even as he +ate with cunning into the heart of the fruit, the outside skin showed no +trace of his ravages. Leh Shin's belief in his friend's integrity made +him careless in the matter of looking into things for himself, and +lulled into false security, he dreamed that he prospered; his dream +being solidified by the accounts which he received from the Burman. In +the zenith of his affluence he married the daughter of a Burman into +whose house Mhtoon Pah had introduced him, and it was only after the +wedding festivities that he became aware that he had supplanted the +friend of his bosom in the affections of the smiling Burmese girl. +Mhtoon Pah was away on a journey, and on his return rejoiced in the +subtle, flattering manner that he knew so well how to practise, and if +he felt rancour, he hid it under a smile.</p> + +<p>Marriage took the Chinaman's attention from the shop, and Mhtoon Pah, +still a subordinate in the presence of his master, was arrogant and +filled with assurance in his dealings with others. Interested friends +warned the Chinaman, but he would not listen to them. He believed in +Mhtoon Pah and he had covered him with gifts.</p> + +<p>"Was he not my friend, this monster of infamy?" he wailed, rocking +himself on his bed. "O that I had seen his false heart, and torn it, +smoking, from his ribs!"</p> + +<p>Leh Shin was secure in his summer of prosperity, and when his son was +born he felt that there was no good thing left out of the pleasant ways +of life. In the curio shop in Paradise Street Mhtoon Pah waxed fat and +studied the table of returns, and in the garden of the house where Leh +Shin lived in his fool's paradise, the Chinaman loosed his hold upon the +reins of authority.</p> + +<p>The first sign of the altered and averted faces of the gods was made +known to Leh Shin when his wife dwindled and pined and died.</p> + +<p>"But that, O friend, was not the work of thine enemy," said Shiraz, +pulling at his beard reflectively. "Even in thine anger, seek to follow +the ways of justice."</p> + +<p>"How do I know it?" replied Leh Shin. "He ever held an evil wish towards +me. Her death was slow, like unto the approach of disaster. I know not +whence it came, but my heart informs me that Mhtoon Pah designed it."</p> + +<p>Quickly upon the death of his wife came the disappearance of his son. +The boy had been playing in the garden, and the garden had been searched +in vain for him. No trace of the child could be found, though Mangadone +was searched from end to end.</p> + +<p>"Searched," cried the Chinaman, "as the pocket of a coat. No corner left +that was not peered into, no house that was not ransacked." The +Chinaman's voice quivered with passion, and his whole body shook and +trembled.</p> + +<p>Life flowed back into its accustomed current, and nearly a year passed +before the next trouble came upon Leh Shin. Mhtoon Pah came back from a +prolonged journey that had necessitated his going to Hong-Kong, and he +came back with dismay in his face and a story of loss upon loss. He had +compromised his master's credit to a heavy extent, and not only the +gains he had made but the principal was swept away into an awful chasm +where the grasping hands of creditors grabbed the whole of Leh Shin's +patrimony, claiming it under papers signed by his hand.</p> + +<p>"It was then that light flowed in upon my darkness, and I saw the long +prepared evil that was the work of one man's hand." Leh Shin rose upon +his string bed and his voice was thin with rabid anger. "I caught him by +the throat and would have stabbed him with my knife, but he, being a +younger man than I, threw me off from him, and, when he made me answer, +I saw my foe of many years stand to render his account to me. '<i>Thou</i>, +to call me thief,' said he, 'who robbed me of my wife and cheated me of +my son.'"</p> + +<p>After that, poverty and ruin drove him slowly from his house outside +Mangadone to the shelter of the shop in Paradise Street, and from there, +at length, to the burrow in the Colonnade. The bitterness of his own +fall was great enough in itself to harden the heart of any man, but it +was doubled by the story of the years that followed. Slowly, and without +calling too evident attention to himself, Mhtoon Pah began to prosper. +He opened a booth first, where he sat and cursed Leh Shin whenever he +passed, saying loudly that he had ruined him and swindled him out of all +his little store, that by hard work and attention to business he had +collected.</p> + +<p>From the booth, just as Leh Shin left Paradise Street, Mhtoon Pah +progressed to a small unpretentious shop, and a year later he moved +again, as though inspired by a spirit of malice, into the very premises +where Leh Shin had first employed him as a clerk. That day Leh Shin went +to his Joss and swore vengeance, though how his vengeance could be +worked into fact was more than his opium-muddled brain could conceive. +Vengeance was his dream by night, his one concentrated thought by day, +and he came no nearer to any hope of fulfilling it. Mhtoon Pah, wealthy +and respected; Mhtoon Pah, the builder of shrines; Mhtoon Pah, who spoke +with high Sahibs and had the ear of the Head of the Police himself, and +Leh Shin clad in ragged clothes, and only able to keep his hungry soul +in his body by means of his opium traffic, how could he strike at his +foe's prosperity? His hate glared out of his eyes as he panted, stopping +to draw breath at the end of his account.</p> + +<p>Had Shiraz known the legend of the wise wolf who changed from man to +beast, he might have supposed that some such change was taking place in +Leh Shin. His trembling lips dribbled, his head jerked as though +supported by wires, and his eyebrows twitched violently as though he had +no control over their movements. He had forgotten Shiraz and was +thinking only of the tribulation he had suffered and of the man whose +gross form inhabited his whole mental world. Shaking like a leaf, he got +off his bed and stood on the earth floor.</p> + +<p>"May he be eaten by mud-sores," he said savagely. "May he die by his own +hand, and so, as is the Teaching, be shut out of peace, and return to +earth as a scorpion, to be crushed again into lesser life by a stone."</p> + +<p>"By the will of Allah, who alone is great, there will be an end of thy +troubles," said Shiraz non-committally as he got up. "Thou hast suffered +much. Be it requited to thee as thou wouldst have it fall in the hour +that is already written; for no man may escape his destiny, though he be +fleet of foot as the antlered stag."</p> + +<p>"Son of a Prophet, thy words are full of wisdom."</p> + +<p>"Let it comfort thine affliction," said Shiraz, with the air of a man +making a gift.</p> + +<p>"Yet I would hasten the end." He gave a strange, soundless laugh that +startled Shiraz, who looked at him sideways. "And mark this, O wise one, +mine enemy hath already felt the first lash of the whip fall, even the +whip that scourged my own body. He hath lost the boy whom he ever +praised in the streets, and suffered much grief thereby. May his grief +thrive and may it be added to until the weight is greater than he can +bear." He swung up his hand with a stabbing movement. "I would rip him +like a cushion of fine down. I would strike his face with my shoe as the +<i>Nats</i> that he dreads caught his screaming soul."</p> + +<p>"Peace, peace," said Shiraz. "Such words are ill for him who speaks, and +ill alike for him who listens. In such a day as already the end is +scored like a comet's tail across the sky, the end shall be, and not +before that day. Cease from thy clamour lest the street hear thee, and +run to know the cause."</p> + +<p>He took leave of his friend and went slowly away to his own house, +having achieved his master's mission, and feeling well satisfied with +his afternoon's work.</p> + +<p>Motive, the hidden spring of action, was made clear, and Shiraz knew +enough of his master's methods to realize that he had come upon a very +definite piece of evidence against Leh Shin, the Chinaman. From the +point of view of Shiraz the man was quite justified in killing Absalom, +since "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth," appeared fair and +reasonable to his mind. The Burman had overreached Leh Shin, and now Leh +Shin had begun the cycle again, and had smitten at the curio dealer +through the curio dealer's boy, for whom he appeared to have a +fanatical affection. According to Shiraz, the house in Paradise Street +stood a good chance of being burned to the ground. If this "accident" +happened, Shiraz would know exactly whose hand it was that lighted the +match. It was all part of an organized scheme, and though he did not +know how Coryndon would bring the facts home, fitting each man with his +share, like a second skin to his body, he felt satisfied that he had +provided the lump of clay for the skilled potter to mould into shape.</p> + +<p>He took off his turban, and lay down on his carpet. The day was still +hot, and the drowsy afternoon outside his closed windows blinked and +stared through the hours, the glare intensifying the shadows under the +trees and along the Colonnade. The soda-water and lemonade sellers in +their small booths drove a roaring trade as they packed the +aquamarine-green bottles in blocks of dirty ice to keep the frizzling +drink cool; and the cawing of marauding crows and the cackle of fowl +blended with the shouting of drivers and sellers of wares, who heeded +not the staring heat of the sun.</p> + +<p>After the emotion of telling his tale, Leh Shin slept in his own small +box of darkness, and, in the rich curio shop in Paradise Street, Mhtoon +Pah leaned on an embroidered pillow with closed eyes. The stream of life +flowed slowly and softly through the hours when only the poor have need +to work; soft as the current of a full tide that slides between wide +banks, and soft as sleep, or fate, or the destiny which no man can hope +to escape.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XX" id="XX" />XX</h2> + +<h3>CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, IS FACED BY A MAN WITH A WHIP IN HIS HAND, +AND CORYNDON FINDS A CLUE</h3> + + +<p>It is a matter of universal belief that a woman's most alluring quality +is her mystery, and Coryndon, no lover of women, was absorbed in the +study of mystery without a woman.</p> + +<p>He had eliminated the woman.</p> + +<p>In his mind he cast Mrs. Wilder upon one side, as March throws February +to the fag end of winter, and rushes on to meet the primrose girl +bringing spring in her wake. He had dealt simultaneously with Mrs. +Wilder's little part in the drama and the part of Francis Heath, Priest +in Holy Orders. How they had both stood the test of detection he did not +trouble to analyse. "Detection" is a nasty word, with a nasty sound in +it, and no one likes it well enough to brood over all it exactly means.</p> + +<p>Coryndon was sufficiently an observer of men and life to feel grateful +to Heath, because he had seen something for a short moment as he studied +the clergyman that dwells afterwards in the mind, like a stream of +moonlight lying over a tranquil sea. Hidden things, in his experience, +were seldom things of beauty, and yet he had come upon one fair place +in the whole puzzling and tangled story collected round the +disappearance of the Christian boy Absalom.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder and Heath were both accounted for and deleted from the list +of names indelibly inscribed in his mental book; but one fact that was +sufficiently weighty had been added to what was still involved in doubt: +the fact that Heath had seen the boy in company with Leh Shin's +assistant.</p> + +<p>Coryndon was subject to the ordinary prejudices of any man who makes +human personality a study, and he was more than half disposed to go back +to the Bazaar and hear whatever evidence Shiraz had been able to collect +during his absence. Two reasons prevented his doing this. One was that +he would have to wait until it was dark enough to leave Hartley's +bungalow without being watched, and possibly followed, and the other +that there was still one name on the list that required attention, and +he began to feel that it required immediate attention. A toss of a coin +lay between which course he should adopt first, and he sat very still to +consider the thing carefully.</p> + +<p>In the service of which he was a member, he had learnt that much depends +upon getting facts in their chronological order, and that if there is +the least disunion in the fusing of events, deduction may hammer its +head eternally against a stone wall. He did not know positively that Leh +Shin had decoyed the boy away by means of his assistant, but he was +inclined to believe that such was the case. The blood-stained rag looked +like a piece of impudent bravado more than likely to have emanated from +the brain of the young Chinaman. His mental fingers opened to catch Leh +Shin and lay hold on him, but they unclosed again, and Coryndon felt +about him in the darkness that separates mind from mind. He knew the +pitfall that a too evident chain of circumstances digs for the unwary, +and he fell back from his own conviction, testing each link of the +chain, still uncertain and still doubtful of what course he should +pursue.</p> + +<p>He had another object in view, an object that entailed a troublesome +interview, and he turned his thoughts towards its possible issue. +Information might be at hand in the safe keeping of his servant Shiraz, +but he considered that he must argue his own conclusions apart from +anything Shiraz had discovered. Narrowing his eyes and sitting forward +on the edge of his bed, he thought out the whole progress of his scheme. +Coryndon was an essentially quiet man, but as he thought he struck his +hands together and came to a sudden decision.</p> + +<p>If life offers a few exciting moments, the man who refuses them is no +adventurer, and Coryndon saw a chance for personal skill and definite +action. He felt the call of excitement, the call that pits will against +will and subtlety against force, and that is irresistible to the man of +action. Probably it was just that human touch that decided him. One +course was easy; a mere matter of reassuming a disguise and slipping +back into the life of the people, which was as natural to him as his own +life. A tame ending, rounded off by hearing a story from Shiraz, and +laying the whole matter in the hands of Hartley. The proof against the +assistant was almost conclusive, and if Shiraz had burrowed into the +heart of the motive, it gave sufficient evidence to deliver over the +case almost entire to the man who added the last word to the whole drama +before the curtain fell.</p> + +<p>Coryndon knew the full value of working from point to point, but beside +this method he placed his own instinct, and his instinct pointed along a +different road, a road that might lead nowhere, and yet it called to him +as he sat on the side of his bed, as roads with indefinite endings have +called men since the beginning of time.</p> + +<p>Against his own trained judgment, he wavered and yielded, and at length +took his white <i>topi</i> from a peg on the wall and walked out slowly up +the garden. It was three in the afternoon. Just the hour when Shiraz was +lying on his mat asleep, and when Leh Shin slept, and Mhtoon Pah drowsed +against his cushion from Balsorah, each dreaming after his own fashion; +and it was an hour when white men were sure to be in their bungalows. +Hartley was lying in a chair in the veranda, and all through Mangadone +men rested from toil and relaxed their brains after the morning's work.</p> + +<p>Coryndon went out softly and slowly, and he walked under the hot burning +sun that stared down at Mangadone as though trying to stare it steadily +into flame. White, mosque-like houses ached in the heat, chalk-white +against the sky, and the flower-laden balconies, massed with +bougainvillæa, caught the stare and cracked wherever there was sap +enough left in the pillars and dry woodwork to respond to the fierce +heat of a break in the rains.</p> + +<p>It was a long, hot walk to the bungalow where Joicey lived, over the +Banking House itself, and the vast compound was arid and bare from three +days of scorching drought. Coryndon's feet sounded gritting on the red, +hard drive that led to the cool of the porch. No one called at such an +hour; it was unheard of in Mangadone, where the day from two to five was +sacred from interruption.</p> + +<p>A Chaprassie stopped him on the avenue, and a Bearer on the steps of the +house itself. There were subordinates awake and alive in the Bank, ready +to answer questions on any subject, but Coryndon held to his purpose. He +did not want to see any of the lesser satellites; his business was with +the Manager, and he said that he must see him, if the Manager was to be +seen, or even if he was not, as his business would not keep.</p> + +<p>A young man with a smooth, affable manner appeared from within, and said +he would give any message that Coryndon had to leave with his principal, +but Coryndon shook his head and politely declined to explain himself or +his business, beyond the fact that it was private and important. The +young man shook his head doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't happen to be a very good hour. We never disturb Mr. Joicey +in the afternoons."</p> + +<p>"May I send in my card?" asked Coryndon.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, if you wish to do so."</p> + +<p>Coryndon took a pencil out of his pocket, and, scribbling on the corner +of his card, enclosed it in an envelope, and waited in the dark hall, +where electric fans flew round like huge bats, the smooth-mannered young +man keeping him courteous company.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Joicey rests at this time of day," he explained. "I hope you quite +understand the difficulty."</p> + +<p>"I quite understand," replied Coryndon, "but I think he will see me."</p> + +<p>There was a pause. The young man did not wish to contradict him, but he +felt that he knew the ways and hours of the Head of the Firm very much +better than a mere stranger arriving on foot just as the Bank was due to +close for the day. He wondered who Coryndon was, and what his very +pressing business could possibly be, but even in his wildest flights of +fancy, and, with the thermometer at 112°, flights of fancy do not carry +far, he never even dimly guessed at anything the least degree connected +with the truth.</p> + +<p>The Bearer came down the wide scenic stairway and said that his master +would see Mr. Coryndon at once. The young man with the smooth manner +faded off into dark shadows with an accentuation of impersonal civility, +and Coryndon walked up the echoing staircase by the front of the hall, +down a corridor, down another flight of stairs, and into the private +suite of rooms sacred to the use of the head of the banking firm, and +used only in part by the celibate Joicey.</p> + +<p>Joicey was standing by a table, looking at Coryndon's card and twisting +it between his fingers. He recognized his visitor when he glanced at +him, and showed some surprise. The room was in twilight, as all the +outside chicks were down, and there was a lingering faint perfume of +something sweet and cloying in the air. Joicey looked sulky and +irritated, and he motioned Coryndon to a chair without seating himself.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said brusquely, "what's this about Rydal?" He pointed with a +blunt finger to the card that he had thrown on to the table.</p> + +<p>"That," said Coryndon, also indicating the card, "is merely a means +towards an end. I have the good fortune to find you not only in your +house, but able to receive me."</p> + +<p>The colour mounted to Joicey's heavy face, and his temper rose with it.</p> + +<p>"Then you mean to tell me—" He broke off and stared at Coryndon, and +gave a rough laugh. "You're Hartley's globe-trotting acquaintance, +aren't you? Well, Hartley happens to be a friend of mine, and it is just +as well for you that he is. Tell me your business, and I will overlook +your intrusion on his account."</p> + +<p>Something inside Coryndon's brain tightened like a string of a violin +tuned up to concert-pitch.</p> + +<p>"In one respect you are wrong," he said amiably, and without the +smallest show of heat. "I am, as you say, Hartley's friend, but I must +disown any connection with globe-trotting, as you call it. I am in the +Secret Service of the Indian Government."</p> + +<p>"Oh, are you?" Joicey tore up the card and threw it into a basket beside +the writing-table.</p> + +<p>"It may interest you to know," went on Coryndon easily, "that my visit +to you is not altogether prompted by idle curiosity." He smiled +reflectively. "No, I feel sure that you will not call it that."</p> + +<p>"Fire ahead, then," said Joicey, whose very evident resentment was by no +means abated. "Ask your question, if it is a question."</p> + +<p>"I am coming to that presently. Before I do I want you to understand, +Mr. Joicey, that, like you, I am a servant of the public, and I am at +present employed in gathering together evidence that throws any light +upon the doings of three people on the night of July the twenty-ninth."</p> + +<p>"Then you are wasting valuable time," said Joicey defiantly. "I was away +from Mangadone on that night."</p> + +<p>"I am quite aware that you told Hartley so."</p> + +<p>Coryndon's voice was perfectly even and level, but hot anger flamed up +in the bloodshot eyes of Craven Joicey.</p> + +<p>"I put it to you that you made a mistake," went on Coryndon, "and that +in the interests of justice you will now be able to tell me that you +remember where you were and what you were doing on that night."</p> + +<p>Joicey thrust his hands deep into his pockets, his heavy shoulders bent, +and his face dogged.</p> + +<p>"I am prepared to swear on oath that I was not in Mangadone on the night +of July the twenty-ninth."</p> + +<p>"Not in Mangadone, Mr. Joicey. Mangadone proper ends at the tram lines; +the district beyond is known as Bhononie."</p> + +<p>Coryndon could see that his shot told. There were yellow patches around +Joicey's eyes, and a purple shadow passed across his face, leaving it +leaden.</p> + +<p>"Unless I can complete my case by other means, you will be called as a +witness to prove certain facts in connection with the disappearance of +the boy Absalom on the night of July the twenty-ninth."</p> + +<p>"Who is going to call me?"</p> + +<p>The question was curt, and Joicey's defiance was still strong, but there +was a certain huskiness in his voice that betrayed a very definite fear.</p> + +<p>"Leh Shin, the Chinaman, will call you. His neck will be inside a noose, +Mr. Joicey, and he will need your evidence to save his life."</p> + +<p>"<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'Lee'">Leh</ins> Shin? That man would swear anything. His word is +worthless against mine," said the Banker, raising his voice noisily. "If +that is another specimen of Secret Service bluff, it won't do. Won't do, +d'you hear?"</p> + +<p>Coryndon tapped his fingers on the writing-table.</p> + +<p>"I can't agree with you in your conclusion that it 'won't do.' Taken +alone his statement may be worthless, but taken in connection with the +fact that you are in the habit of visiting his opium den by the river, +it would be difficult to persuade any judge that he was lying. I myself +have seen you going in there and coming out."</p> + +<p>He watched Joicey stare at him with blind rage; he watched him stagger +and reach out groping hands for a chair, and he saw the huge defiance +evaporate, leaving Joicey a trembling mass of nerves.</p> + +<p>"It's a lie," he said, mumbling the words as though they were dry bread. +"It's a damned, infernal lie!"</p> + +<p>A long silence followed upon his words, and Joicey mopped his face with +his handkerchief, breathing hard through his nose, his hands shaking as +though he was caught by an ague fit.</p> + +<p>"I'm in a corner," he said at last; "you've got the whip-hand of me, +Coryndon, but when I said I was not in Mangadone that night, I was +speaking the truth."</p> + +<p>"You were splitting a hair," suggested Coryndon.</p> + +<p>Joicey drew his heavy eyebrows together in an angry frown.</p> + +<p>"Let that question rest," he said, conquering his desire to break loose +in a passion of rage.</p> + +<p>"You went down Paradise Street some time after sunset. Will you tell me +exactly whom you saw on your way to the river house?"</p> + +<p>Craven Joicey steadied his voice and thought carefully.</p> + +<p>"I passed Heath, the Parson, he was coming from the direction of the +lower wharves, and was going towards Rydal's bungalow. I remember that, +because Rydal was in, my mind at the time; I had heard that his wife was +ill, probably dying, and just after I saw Absalom."</p> + +<p>He paused for a moment and moistened his lips.</p> + +<p>"Was he with anyone when you saw him?"</p> + +<p>"No, he was alone, and he was carrying a parcel. Anyhow, that is all I +can tell you about him that night."</p> + +<p>Joicey looked up as though he considered that he had said enough.</p> + +<p>"And from there you went to the opium den," said Coryndon relentlessly.</p> + +<p>The perspiration dripped from Joicey's hair, and he took up the threads +of the story once more.</p> + +<p>"I went there," he said, biting the words savagely. "I was sick at the +time. I'd had a go of malaria and was as weak as a kitten. The place was +empty, and only Leh Shin was in the house, and whether he gave me a +stronger dose, or whether I was too seedy to stand my usual quantity, I +can't tell you, but I overslept my time."</p> + +<p>He passed his hand over his face with a sideways look that was horrible +in its shamefacedness. Coryndon avoided looking at him in return, and +waited patiently until he went on.</p> + +<p>"Leh Shin remained with me. He never leaves the house whilst I am +inside," continued Joicey. "I was there the night of the twenty-ninth +and the day of the thirtieth. Luckily it was a Sunday and there was no +fear of questions cropping up, and I only got out at nightfall when it +was dark enough for me to go back without risk. Since then," he said, +rising to his feet and striking the writing-table with a clenched fist, +"I have been driven close to madness. Hartley was put on to the track of +Leh Shin by the lying old Burman, Mhtoon Pah, and Leh Shin's shop was +watched and he himself threatened. God! What I've gone through."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Coryndon, pushing back his chair. "You have been of +the very greatest assistance to me."</p> + +<p>Joicey sat down again, a mere torment-racked mass, deprived of the help +of his pretence, defenceless and helpless because his sin had found him +out in the person of a slim, dark-faced man, who looked at him with +burning pity in his eyes.</p> + +<p>The world jests at the abstract presentment of vice. From pulpits it +appears clothed in attractive words and is spoken of as alluring; and, +supported by the laughter of the idle and the stern belief of the +righteous in its charms, man sees something gallant and forbidden in +following its secret paths. The abstract view has the charm and +attraction of an impressionist picture, but once the curtain is down, +and the witness stands out with a terrible pointing finger, the laughter +of the world dies into silence, and the testimony of the preacher that +vice is provided with unearthly beauty becomes a false statement, and +man is conscious only of the degradation of his own soul.</p> + +<p>Coryndon left the room noiselessly and returned up the steps, along the +corridor and down the stone flight that led into the subsiding heat of +the late afternoon. The young man with the smooth, affable manner +wheeled a bicycle out of a far corner, and smiled pleasantly at +Coryndon.</p> + +<p>"You saw the Manager, and got what you wanted?"</p> + +<p>"I saw him, and got even more than I wanted," said Coryndon, with +conviction.</p> + +<p>Things like this puzzled the dream side of his nature and left him +exhausted. The gathering passion of rage in Joicey's eyes had not +touched him, but the memory of the big, bull-dog, defiant man huddled on +the low chair, his arm over his face, was a memory that spoke of other +things than what he had come there to discover; the terrible things that +are behind life and that have power over it. He had to collect himself +with definite force, as a child's attention is recalled to a +lesson-book.</p> + +<p>"He has cleared Leh Shin," he said to himself, and at first exactly all +that the words meant was not clear to his mind. Joicey had cleared the +Chinaman of complicity, and had knocked the whole structure of carefully +selected evidence away with a few words.</p> + +<p>Coryndon was back in Hartley's bungalow with this to consider; and it +left him in a strange place, miles from any conclusion. He had sighted +the end of his labours, seen the reward of his long secret watchfulness, +and now they had withdrawn again beyond his grasp. Heath had seen +Absalom with the Chinaman's assistant. Joicey, whose evidence marked a +later hour than that of Heath, had seen him alone, and the solitary +figure of the small boy hurrying into the dark was the last record that +indicated the way he had gone.</p> + +<p>Nothing connected itself with the picture as Coryndon sat brooding over +it, and then gradually his mind cleared and the confusion of the +destruction of his carefully worked-out plan departed from his brain +like a wind-blown cloud. There was a link, and his sensitive fine +fingers caught it suddenly, the very shock of contact sending the blood +into his cheeks.</p> + +<p>The picture was clear now. Absalom, a little white-clad figure, slim, +eager and dutiful, hurried into the shadows of night, but Coryndon was +at his heels this time. The clue was so tiny, so infinitesimal, that it +took the eye of a man trained to the last inch in the habit of seeing +everything to notice it, but it did not escape Coryndon.</p> + +<p>He joined Hartley at tea in the sitting-room, with its semi-official air +of being used for serious work, and Hartley fulfilled his avocation by +bringing Coryndon back from strange places into the heart of sane +humdrum existence. Surely if some men are pillars, and others rockets, +and more poets, professors and preachers, some are hand-rails, and only +the man who has just been standing on a dizzy height looking sheer into +the bottomless pit where nothing is safe and where life crumbles and +fear is too close to the consciousness, knows the value and even the +beauty of a hand-rail, and knows that there is no need to mock at its +limitations. For a few minutes Coryndon leant upon the moral support of +Hartley's cheery personality, and then he told him that he was going +back to the Bazaar that night, as circumstances led him to believe that +he might find what he wanted there and there only.</p> + +<p>"That means that you have cleared Heath?"</p> + +<p>Hartley's voice was relieved.</p> + +<p>"Heath is entirely exonerated."</p> + +<p>Coryndon wandered to the piano, and he played the twilight into the +garden, the bats out of the eaves, and he played the shadow of Joicey's +shame off his own soul until he was refreshed and renewed, and it was +time for him to return to his disguise and slip out of the house.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXI" id="XXI" />XXI</h2> + +<h3>DEMONSTRATES THE PERSUASIVE POWER OF A KNIFE EDGE, AND TELLS A STORY OF +A GOLD LACQUER BOWL</h3> + + +<p>The obese boy sat in Leh Shin's shop, fiddling sometimes with his ears +and sometimes with the soles of his bare feet. He found life just a +little dull, and had he been able to express himself as "bored," he +would doubtless have done so. Peeling small dry scales of skin off +wear-hardened heels is not the most exciting occupation life affords, +and the assistant wished more than once that his master would return +from either the gambling den or the Joss House and liberate him for the +night.</p> + +<p>It was his night at the river house, and small opportunities for +pilfering from the drugged sleepers made these occasions both amusing +and profitable. On the whole he enjoyed the nights in the den, and they +added considerably to his bank in a box secreted behind the Joss who +flamed and pranced on the wall. Meanwhile, nothing was doing in the +shop, and company there was none, unless the cockroaches and the lizards +could be reckoned in that category.</p> + +<p>His master had been shaky and short of temper when he awoke from his +afternoon sleep, and had struck his assistant over the head more than +once in the course of an argument. Unseen things ticked and rustled in +dark corners, and the boy yawned loudly and stretched his arms, making +himself more hideous as his contracted mouth opened to its full oval in +his large round face. Still nothing happened and no one came, and he +returned to the closer examination of a blister that interested him. He +probed it with a needle, and it indicated its connection with his foot +by stinging as though he had burnt himself with a match.</p> + +<p>He was seated on a table bending over his horrible employment, half +pastime, half primitive operation, the light of the lamp full upon him, +when a sound of padding feet shook the floor and he looked up, his eyes +full of the effort of listening attentively, and saw a face peering in +at the door. For a moment he was startled, and then he swung his legs, +which hung short of the floor, over the side of the table and laughed +out loud.</p> + +<p>"So thou art back, Mountain of Wisdom?" he said jeeringly. "Come within +and tell me of thy journey."</p> + +<p>The Burman crept in stealthily, looking around him.</p> + +<p>"Aye, I am back. Having done the business."</p> + +<p>Curiosity leapt into the eyes of the Chinaman, and he dropped his +attitude of contempt.</p> + +<p>"What business?" he asked greedily. "Before thy departure thou wast +mute, stricken as a dumb man, neither wouldst thou speak in response to +any question."</p> + +<p>The Burman curled himself up on the floor and smiled complaisantly.</p> + +<p>"None the less, the business is done, O Bowl of Ghee, and I have +returned."</p> + +<p>The assistant ignored the personal description, and adopted a manner +calculated to ingratiate himself into the friendly confidence of the mad +Burman. He wriggled off the table and crouched on the floor a few inches +off Coryndon's face, and the contact being too close for human +endurance, Coryndon threw himself back into the corner and retired +behind a mask of cunning obstinacy.</p> + +<p>"Thy business, thy business," repeated the boy. "Was it in the nature of +the evil works of the bad man, thy friend?" He leered his encouragement, +and fumbling at his belt took out a small coin. "Here, I will give thee +two annas if thou tell the whole story to my liking."</p> + +<p>The Burman shook his head, but he appeared to be considering the offer +slowly in his obtuse and stagnant brain.</p> + +<p>"Give the money into mine own hand, that the reward be sure," he said, +as though he toyed with the idea.</p> + +<p>"Not so," replied the boy. "First the boiled rice and the salt, and +afterwards the payment. Thus is the way in honest dealings."</p> + +<p>The Burman shut his mouth tightly and exhibited signs of a return to his +former condition of dumbness that worked upon the assistant like gall.</p> + +<p>"Then, if nothing less will content thee, take thy money," he said in +frothy anger. "Take it and speak low, for it may be that eavesdroppers +are without in the street."</p> + +<p>He dropped the coin into the outstretched palm, but the Burman did not +begin his story. He got up and searched behind boxes and shook the rows +of hanging garments. He was so secret and silent that the boy became +exasperated and closed the narrow door into the street with a bang, +pulling across a heavy chain.</p> + +<p>"Let that content thee," he said irritably, chafing under the delay, and +sitting down, a frowsy, horrible object, in the dim corner, he prepared +to enjoy a further description out of the wild fantastic terrors of the +madman's brain.</p> + +<p>Surprise does not hover; its coming events are shadowless, and its +spring is the spring of a tiger out of the dark, and surprise came upon +Leh Shin's assistant as it has come upon men and nations since the world +first spun in space.</p> + +<p>He looked upon the Burman as a harmless lunatic, and he only +half-believed that he had ever been guilty of the act that had ended in +a term of imprisonment in the Andaman Islands, but in one moment he +realized that it might all be true and that he himself was possibly +singled out as the next victim.</p> + +<p>In one silent moment he found himself pinned in his corner, the Burman +squatting in front of him, a long knife which he had never seen before +pointing at his throat with horrible, determined persistency.</p> + +<p>He opened his mouth and thought to cry out for help, but the Burman +leaned forward and warned him that if he did so, his last minute had +inevitably come.</p> + +<p>"I am thy friend, thy good and honourable friend," he said pleasantly as +he made play with the Afghan dagger. "I do but make mirth for both +myself and thee, and I have no thought to harm thee."</p> + +<p>The flesh of the gross body crept and crawled under the Burman's look. +Fate had put the heart of a chicken in the huge frame of Leh Shin's +assistant, and it beat now like pelting hail on a frozen road. He was +close to a raw, naked fear, and it made him shameless as he gibbered and +cowered before it.</p> + +<p>"I have no money," he said, bleating out the words. "All that I have is +already paid to thee for thy tale."</p> + +<p>He whined and cringed and writhed in his close corner.</p> + +<p>"I have heard a strange tale," Coryndon said, bending a little closer to +him. "Old now as stale fish that has lain in the dust of the street. It +has been whispered in my ear that thou knowest how Absalom came to his +end."</p> + +<p>"I slew him in the house of a seaman," said the boy, in a quavering +voice. "Now take the point of thy knife from my throat, for it doth +greatly inconvenience pleasant speech between thee and me."</p> + +<p>Coryndon's watchful eye detected the lie before it announced itself in +words, or so it seemed to the boy, who resigned himself to the mere +paltry limitations of fact, and confessed that he and Absalom had been +friends and that he had never killed anything except a chicken, and once +a dog that was too young to bite his hand.</p> + +<p>The details of the story came out at long intervals, with breaks of +sweating terror between each one. Pieced together, it was simple enough. +In spite of the existing feud between their masters, Leh Shin's +assistant and Absalom had struck up a kind of friendship that was not +unlike the friendship of any two boys in any quarter of the globe. They +used special knocks upon the door, and when they passed as strangers in +the streets they made masonic signs to one another, and they also +gambled with European cards in off hours.</p> + +<p>The desire for money, so strong in the Chinaman, grew gradually in the +mind of the Christian boy, whose descent to Avernus was marked first by +the sale of his Sunday school prize-books, which he disposed of at the +Baptist Mission shop, receiving several rupees in return. Having once +possessed himself of what was wealth to him, and having lost most of it +in the gentlemanly vice of gambling, he began to need more, but being +slow-witted he could think of no way better than robbing Mhtoon Pah, +which suggestion the Chinaman's assistant looked upon as both dangerous +and weak, regarded in the light of a workable plan.</p> + +<p>It was inside his bullet-head that the idea of a plot that could not be +discovered came into its first nebulous being. Absalom found out that +Mhtoon Pah was looking for a gold lacquer bowl, and through the agency +of Leh Shin the bowl was eventually marked down as the property of a +seaman who was lodging temporarily near the opium den by the river, one +of Leh Shin's clients. The assistant had the good fortune to overhear +the preliminaries of the sale, and he immediately saw his opportunity, +as genius alone sees and recognizes chances. It was he who first told +Absalom that the bowl was located, and it was he who realized that +chance was beckoning on the adventurer.</p> + +<p>It was arranged that Absalom should inform Mhtoon Pah that the coveted +treasure was to be had for a price, and it was also the part of Mr. +Heath's best scholar, to obtain the money from Mhtoon Pah that was to be +paid over to the seaman for the bowl. By this time Absalom's gambling +debts had become a serious question with him, and even a lifelong +mortgage upon his weekly pay could hardly cover his liabilities. Besides +which, he had to live. That painful necessity which dogs the career of +greater men than Absalom.</p> + +<p>He appeared to have an almost childish trust in the craft and guile of +his Chinese friend, and set the whole matter before him. Mhtoon Pah was +ready to pay two hundred rupees for the lacquer bowl, as he was already +offered five hundred by Mrs. Wilder, and was content with the profit. +Two hundred rupees was a sum that was essentially worth some risk. To +hand it over to a drunken seaman was against all moral precept. The +sailor's ways were scandalous, his gain would go into evil hands. +Treated in this manner, even a Sunday-school graduate could lull an +uneasy conscience, and as far as Coryndon could judge, Absalom was not +troubled by any warnings from that silent mentor. Out of the brain of +Leh Shin's assistant the great scheme had leapt full-grown, and it only +required a little careful preparation to put it into action.</p> + +<p>The assistant knew the sailor, a Lascar with a craving for drink, and he +became friendly with him "out of hours," and learned his ways and the +times when he was likely to be in the house where he lodged. The sailor, +having come to know that value was attached to his bowl, guarded it with +avaricious care when in a condition to do so; and Leh Shin, who trusted +his assistant, through whom the news of the deal had first come to his +ear, offered the man fifty rupees for what he had merely stolen from a +shop in Pekin. It took the assistant a full week to arrange events so +that he and Absalom could work together for the moral good of the +sailor, and protect him from the snares of lucre, represented by a third +of the money Leh Shin expected to receive.</p> + +<p>He dwelt with some pride upon the fact, and his vanity in this +particular almost conquered his fear of the Afghan blade that still +nestled close to his bull neck. He had drunk in friendship with the +sailor, dropping a drug into his cup, and waiting till his eyes grew dim +and he fell forward in a heavy sleep. But even in the moment of +achievement his wits were worth more than the wits of Absalom, for he +ran out of the house and established an alibi while the Christian boy +filched the bowl from beneath the bed of the intoxicated sailor. At a +given hour he waited for Absalom just where Heath had stood after he +had parted from Rydal, and so chance played twice into his hands in one +night. Absalom, who appeared to have imbibed some rudimentary principles +of honour among thieves, passed the boy his share, which was a hundred +and twenty rupees, including his debts of honour, and having done so, +sped away into the night, the bowl under his arm.</p> + +<p>"And that is all the story," said the boy, beating his hands on the +floor, and returning from the momentary forgetfulness of the narrative +to the immediate fear of the knife. "Further than that, I know nothing. +The hour is late and if I am not at the river house I shall feel the +wrath of my master."</p> + +<p>"It is a poor tale, a paltry tale," said the Burman, in tones of +disgust. "One that hardly requites me for my patience in hearing it +out."</p> + +<p>He slipped his knife back into his belt and got up from his heels with a +leisurely movement. The boy, still on all fours, watched him closely, +and the Burman, his eye attracted by a bright tin kettle hanging among +the other goods dependent from the ceiling, stood looking at it, and as +he looked the boy dodged out with a rush, overturning a bale of goods, +and tearing at the door like a mad dog, disappeared into the street.</p> + +<p>Coryndon watched him go, and went back to his corner to wait until Leh +Shin should return from either the gambling den or the Joss House. He +had something to say to Leh Shin, something that could not wait to be +said, and he composed himself to the necessary patience that is part of +all close, careful search, and while he waited, he turned over the +evidence that had arisen from the little clue that Joicey had given him. +Absalom had a parcel under his arm, and that parcel was the gold lacquer +bowl that had passed from Mhtoon Pah's curio shop to Mrs. Wilder's +writing-table.</p> + +<p>Coryndon fiddled with his fingers in the dust of the floor, and took a +blood-stained rag out of his pocket and spread it over his knee. Here +was another tangible piece of evidence brought by Mhtoon Pah to Hartley. +So the record of circumstance closed in. Coryndon thought again. A +lacquer bowl and a stained rag of silk, that was all. If he handed over +the case to Hartley and Mhtoon Pah was really guilty, other evidence +would in all probability be found, and the whole mystery made clear.</p> + +<p>He leaned against the wall and watched the throbbing lamp-wick, fighting +his passion for completed work and his conviction that only he could see +it through to its ultimate conclusion. He knew that he was dealing with +wits quite as crafty as his own, and argued the point from the other +side. Mhtoon Pah had given the rag himself to Hartley, and had sworn +that the bowl was left on the steps of his shop. If no further proof was +forthcoming, these two facts unsupported were almost worthless. Unless a +complete denial of his story could be set against it, Hartley stood to +be checkmated.</p> + +<p>Coryndon had nearly decided against Leh Shin. He drew his knees up under +his chin and came to a definite conclusion. He could not give up the +case as it stood; he was absolved from any hint of professional +jealousy, and he could count himself free to follow the evidence until +it led him irrevocably to the spot where the whole detail was clear and +definite.</p> + +<p>All the faces of the men who had figured in the drama floated across his +mind, and he thought of the strange key that turned in the lock of one +small trivial destiny, opening other doors as if by magic. Absalom's +life or death had no outward connection with the Head of the Mangadone +Banking Firm, it had nothing in all its days to bring it into touch with +Rydal and Rydal's tragedy—Rydal whom Coryndon had never seen. It lay +apart, severed by race and every possible accident of birth or chance, +from the successful wife of a successful Civil Servant, or an earnest, +hard-working clergyman, and yet the great net of Destiny had been spread +on that night of the 29th of July, and every one of them had fallen into +its meshes.</p> + +<p>All the immense problem of the plan that so decides the current of men's +lives came over him, and he saw the limitless value of the insignificant +in life. Absalom was only a little floating piece of jetsam on the great +waters that divided all these lives, yet he was the factor that had +taken the place of the keystone in the arch; the pivot around which the +force that guided and ruled the whole apparent chaos had moved. Coryndon +wandered a long way in his thoughts from the shop where he sat on the +dusty floor, waiting for the return of Leh Shin. He was so still that +the cockroaches and black-beetles crept out again and formed into +marauding expeditions where the shadows of the hanging clothes fell +dark.</p> + +<p>He turned himself from the pressure of his thought and closed his eyes, +resting his brain in a quiet pool of untroubled silence. He knew the +need and the art of absolute relaxation from the strain of thought, and +though he did not sleep, he looked as though he slept, until he heard +the sound of approaching feet and a hand pushed against the door.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXII" id="XXII" />XXII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH CORYNDON HOLDS THE LAST THREAD AND DRAWS IT TIGHT</h3> + + +<p>When Leh Shin opened the shop door and pushed in his grey, gaunt face, +he looked around as though wondering in a half-dreamy, half-detached +abstraction where some object he had expected to see had gone. At length +his eyes wandered to the Burman, who sat on the ground eyeing him with a +curiously intent and concentrated regard.</p> + +<p>"Thine assistant hath gone to the river house," he said, answering the +unspoken question. "He left me in charge of thy shop and thy goods."</p> + +<p>Leh Shin nodded silently and closed the door. When he turned, the Burman +beckoned to him with a studied suggestion of mystery.</p> + +<p>"What is thy message?" asked Leh Shin. He believed the Burman to be +afflicted with a madness, and his odd and persistent movement of his arm +hardly conveyed anything to the drowsy, drugged brain of the Chinaman.</p> + +<p>The Burman made no reply, but beckoned again, pointing to the floor +beside him in dumb show, and Leh Shin advanced slowly and took up his +place on a grass mat a little distance off. Silently, and very softly, +the Burman crept near to him, and putting his mouth close to his ear, +talked in a rapid, hissing whisper. His words were low, but their effect +upon Leh Shin was startling, for he recoiled as though touched by a hot +needle. His hands clutched his clothes, and his whole frame stiffened. +Even when he drew away, he listened with avidity as the Burman continued +to pour forth his story.</p> + +<p>He had a friend in the household of Hartley Sahib, so he told Leh Shin, +a friend who had sensitive ears and had heard much; had heard in fact +the whole story of the stained rag, and of Mhtoon Pah's wild appeal for +justice against the Chinaman.</p> + +<p>"Well for thee, Leh Shin, that I have a friend in the house of that +<i>Thakin</i> who rules the Police. But for him I should not have been +informed of the plot against thy life, for, 'on this evidence,' saith +he, 'assuredly they will hang the Chinaman, and Mhtoon Pah is witness +against him.'"</p> + +<p>"Mhtoon Pah, Mhtoon Pah!" said Leh Shin, and he needed to add no curses +to the name, spoken as he said it.</p> + +<p>When Coryndon had fully explained that his friend, who was in the +service of Hartley, had not only given him a circumstantial account of +how the rag was to be used as final and conclusive evidence of Leh +Shin's guilt, but that he had also stolen the rag out of Hartley Sahib's +locked box, to be safely returned to him later, Leh Shin almost tore it +from between Coryndon's fingers.</p> + +<p>"Nay, I cannot deliver it unto thee. My word is pledged. Look closely at +it, if thou wilt, but it may not leave my hand or I break my oath."</p> + +<p>He held it under the circle of lamplight, and the Chinaman leaned over +his shoulder to look at it. For a long time he examined it carefully, +feeling its texture and touching it with light fingers.</p> + +<p>Coryndon watched him with some interest. The Chinaman was applying some +definite test to the silk, known to himself. At last he turned his eyes +on the Burman, staring with a gaunt, fierce look that saw many things, +and when he spoke his words grated and rattled and his voice was almost +beyond his control.</p> + +<p>"See now, O servant of Justice, I am learned in the matter of silks, and +without doubt this comes surely from but one place."</p> + +<p>Again he fell to touching the silk, and his crooked fingers shook as he +explained that the fragment was one he could identify. It was not the +product of the silk looms of Burma, or Shantung; it could not be +procured even in Japan. It was a rare and special product fashioned by +certain lake-dwellers in the Shan states, and so small was their output +that it went to no market.</p> + +<p>"In one shop only in Mangadone," he said; "nay, in one shop only in the +whole world may such silk be found. Thus, in his craft, hath mine enemy +overreached himself."</p> + +<p>"Thou art certain of this?"</p> + +<p>"As I am that the sun will rise."</p> + +<p>Coryndon looked again at the silk, and sat silently thinking.</p> + +<p>"The piece is cut off roughly," he said, after a moment of reflection. +"Yet, could it be fitted into the space left in the roll, then thou art +cleared, and hast just cause against Mhtoon Pah."</p> + +<p>"If thy madness comprehends so much, let it carry thee further still, O +stricken and afflicted," said Leh Shin, imploring him with voice and +gesture. "Night after night have I stood outside his shop, but who may +enter through a locked door? A breath, a shadow, or a flame, but not a +man." He lay on the ground and dug his nails into the floor. "I know the +shop from within and without, and I know that the lock opens with +difficulty but to one key, the key that hangs on a chain around the neck +of Mhtoon Pah."</p> + +<p>Silence fell again as Leh Shin wrestled with the problem that confronted +him.</p> + +<p>"What saidst thou?" said the Burman, suddenly coming to life. "A key?"</p> + +<p>He gave a low, chuckling laugh and rocked about in his corner.</p> + +<p>"Knowest thou of the story of Shiraz, the Punjabi?"</p> + +<p>"I have no mind for tales," said Leh Shin, striking at him with a futile +blow of rage.</p> + +<p>"Nay, restrain thy wrath, since thou hast spoken of a key. With a key +that was made by sorcery, he was enabled to open the treasure-box of the +Lady Sahib, and often hath he told me that all doors may be opened by +it, large or small. It is not hard for me to take it from under his +pillow while he sleeps."</p> + +<p>The Chinaman's jaw dropped, and he cast up his hands in mute +astonishment. If this was madness, sanity appeared only a doubtful +blessing set beside it. He drew his own wits together, and leaning near +the Burman laid before him the rough outline of a plan.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah's ways were known to him. Usually he went to the Pagoda after +the shop was closed, and he returned from there late; it was impossible +to be accurate as to the exact hour of his return. To risk detection was +to shatter all chance of success, and it was necessary to make sure +before attempting to break into the shop and identify the silk rag with +the original roll, if that might be done.</p> + +<p>There was only one course open to the Burman and Leh Shin, and that was +to wait until there was a <i>Pwé</i> at the Pagoda, which Mhtoon Pah would +certainly attend, as his new shrine drew many curious gazers to the +Temple. It would also draw the inhabitants of Paradise Street out of the +quarter, and leave the place practically deserted. For many reasons it +was necessary to wait such an opportunity, though Leh Shin raved at the +delay. It seemed to him that the whole plan was of his suggesting, and +he did not realize that every vague question put by the Burman led him +step by step to the complicated scheme.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow I will send forth my assistant to bring me word of the next +<i>Pwé</i>, so that the night may be marked in my mind, and that I shall gain +pleasure in considering the nearing downfall of my enemy."</p> + +<p>Coryndon slipped off to his house. He was tired mentally and physically, +but before he slept, he took a bundle of keys from his dispatch-box and +tied them to the waist of his <i>loongyi</i>.</p> + +<p>In the morning there was a fresh surprise for Leh Shin. His assistant +refused to leave the river house, and no persuasion would lure him out +to look after his master's shop. He was afraid of something or someone, +and he wept and entreated to be left where he was. Leh Shin beat him and +tried to drive him out, to no purpose, and in the end he prevailed over +his master, whose mind was occupied with other and more weighty affairs.</p> + +<p>Like a black shadow, Leh Shin crept about the streets, and he questioned +one and another as to the festivities to be held at the Pagoda. +Everywhere he heard of Mhtoon Pah's shrine, and of the great holiness of +the curio dealer. Mhtoon Pah was giving a feast at the Pagoda with +presents for the priests, and the night chosen was the night of the full +moon.</p> + +<p>"Art thou bidden?" asked one who remembered the day of Leh Shin's +prosperity.</p> + +<p>"It is in my thoughts, friend, to make my peace," said Leh Shin, with an +immovable face. "On the night when the moon is full, I am minded to do +so."</p> + +<p>His words were carried back to Mhtoon Pah, who pondered over them, +wondering what the Chinaman meant, finding something sinister in the +sound that added to his rage against his enemy.</p> + +<p>The day of the feast was dark and overcast, and the inhabitants of +Paradise Street looked at the sky with great misgiving, but the curio +dealer refused to be alarmed.</p> + +<p>"The night will be fine, for I have greatly propitiated the <i>Nats</i>," he +said with conviction, and he lolled and smoked in his chair at an +earlier hour than was usual with him.</p> + +<p>Even as he had said, the evening began to clear, and by sunset the heavy +clouds were all dispersed. A red sunset unfolded itself in a scroll of +fire across the sky, and Mangadone looked as though it was illuminated +by the flames of a conflagration. A strange evening, some said then, and +many said after. Even the pointing man lost his jaundice-yellow and +seemed to blush as he pointed up the steps. He had nothing to blush for. +His master was at the summit of his power. The <i>Hypongyis</i> lauded him +openly in the streets, and he was giving a feast at the Temple at which +the poorest would not be forgotten.</p> + +<p>Yet Mhtoon Pah was not altogether easy. His eyes rolled strangely from +time to time, and it was remarked by several that he walked to the end +of Paradise Street and looked down the Colonnade of the Chinese quarter, +standing there in thought. Old stories of the feud between him and Leh +Shin were recalled in whispers and passed about.</p> + +<p>The red of the sunset died out into rose-pink, and the effect of colour +in the very air faded and dwindled. People were already dressed out in +gala clothing, and streaming towards the Pagoda. The giver of the feast +did not start with them. He sat in his chair, and then withdrew into his +shop. A light travelled from thence to the upper story, and then with +slow hesitation, Mhtoon Pah came out by the front of the house and +locked the clamped padlock. He stood still for a few minutes, and then +he gasped and shook his fist at the empty air, and he, too, took his way +across the bridge and was lost in the shadows.</p> + +<p>Still the stream from Wharf Street and the confluent streets flowed on +up Paradise Street, and gradually only the maimed and the aged, or the +impossibly youthful, were left behind, to hear of the wonders afterwards +at secondhand, a secondhand likely to add rather than detract from what +actually took place. Even the Colonnade was empty and silent. Shiraz had +gone with the crowd to see what might be seen, and Leh Shin's assistant, +furtive and watchful, and in great terror of the Burman's knife, was +also in the throng that climbed the Pagoda steps.</p> + +<p>The moon that was to have shone on Mhtoon Pah's feast rose in a yellow +ring, and clouds came up, hazy, gaudy clouds that dimmed its light and +made the shadows in the silent streets dense and heavy. Usually there +was a police guard at the corner where Paradise Street met the +Colonnade, but that night Hartley considered the police would be more +necessary in the neighbourhood of the Pagoda. Mhtoon Pah did not think +of this. His conscience was easy, he had propitiated the <i>Nats</i>.</p> + +<p>The Pagoda was one blaze of light, and a thousand candles flamed before +every shrine; even the oldest and most neglected had its ring of light. +Small coloured lamps dotted the outlines of some of the booths, and the +whole spectacle presented a moving mass of brilliant colour. Sahibs had +come there. Hartley Sahib had agreed to appear for half an hour, and he +too looked at the crowd with curious, travelling eyes. Coryndon might be +among them, and probably was, he thought, but in any case there was +little chance of his recognizing him if he were.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah had not spared magnificent display, and the crowd told each +other that it was indeed a night to remember in Mangadone. Whispering +winds came out and rang the Temple bells, but even when the breeze +strengthened, the rain-clouds held off. It became a matter for +compliment and congratulation, and Mhtoon Pah accepted his friends' +flattery without pride. He was a good man, a benefactor, a +shrine-builder who followed "the Way" with zeal and fervour, and +besides, he had propitiated <i>Nats</i>; <i>Nats</i> who blew up storms, caused +earthquakes and were evilly disposed towards men.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah would have been at the point where a man's life touches +sublimity, but for one thing. The words of Leh Shin echoed in his ears +over all the applause and adulation.</p> + +<p>"It is in my thought, friend, to make my peace. On the night of the full +moon I am minded to do so."</p> + +<p>The moon riding clear of clouds, shone out over the concourse of men and +women. Anywhere among them all might be Leh Shin, the needy Chinaman, +and gripping his large hands into fists, Mhtoon Pah watched for him and +expected him, but watch as he might, he did not come, neither was there +any sign of him among all the crowd of faces that passed and repassed +before the new shrine.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII" />XXIII</h2> + +<h3>DEMONSTRATES THE TRUTH OF THE AXIOM THAT "THE UNEXPECTED ALWAYS HAPPENS"</h3> + + +<p>At the time when Mhtoon Pah was standing in the centre of a gazing group +before the new shrine, and trying to forget that nothing except the news +of Leh Shin's hanging would give him real satisfaction, the Chinaman, +accompanied by the Burman, slipped up the channel of gloom under the +Colonnade and made his way into Paradise Street.</p> + +<p>The Burman walked with an easy unconscious step, but Leh Shin crept +close to the wall and started when he passed a sleeping form in a +doorway. Night fears and that trembling anxiety that comes when +fulfilment is close at hand were upon him. He knew that the point in +view was to effect an entrance into the curio shop, the threshold of +which he had not crossed since his last black hour of misfortune had +struck and he had gone out a beggar.</p> + +<p>Everything in his life lay on the other side of the shop door; all his +happy, prosperous, careless days, all the good years. Every one of them +was stored there just as surely as Mhtoon Pah's ivories and carved +screens and silks were stored safe against the encroachment of damp and +must. His old self might even be somewhere in the silent house, and it +takes a special quality of courage for a man to return and walk through +a doorway into the long past. For the first time for years he remembered +how he had brought his little son into the shop, and how the child had +laughed and crowed at the sight of amber and crystal chains.</p> + +<p>Even Mhtoon Pah grew dim in his mind, and he dallied with the forgotten +memories as he stood shaking in an archway watching the Burman cross the +street. Insensibly the Burman's mania had waned in the last few hours, +and he had grown silent and preoccupied, a fact that escaped Leh Shin's +notice. His owl eyes blinked with the strain of staring through the +wavering light, and his memories strove with him as though in physical +combat. Mhtoon Pah was no longer in the house, and instead of his shadow +another influence seemed to brood there, something that called to Leh +Shin, but not with the wild cry of hate. Before the days of still +greater affluence Leh Shin had lived there with his little Burmese wife.</p> + +<p>The Burman was on his knees, having some difficulty with the lock. He +could see him fighting it, and at last he saw the jerk of his hand that +told that the key had turned, and that the way was clear. Leh Shin dived +out of the recess and ran, a flitting shadow, across the road. The door +was open, but the Burman for all his madness was not satisfied. There +was a way out through the back by which they could emerge, and if the +front door hung loose, careless eyes might easily be attracted to the +fact. The pointing man was not there for nothing. Almost everyone +looked up the steps. Even in his fury of impatience, Leh Shin saw the +reason for caution, and agreed to open a window, and admit the Burman +after he had locked the door again.</p> + +<p>The moments were full of the tense agony of suspense, and he peered +cautiously out from under the silk blind. A late passer-by went slowly +up the street, and Leh Shin's heart beat a loud obbligato to the sound +of his wooden pattens. By craning his neck as the man passed, he could +just distinguish the Burman crouching behind the wooden man, who blandly +indicated the heavy padlock. The wooden man lied woodenly to the effect +that all was well within the curio shop, and a few minutes later the +Burman swung himself over the balustrade and climbed with cat-like +agility on to the window-ledge.</p> + +<p>The darkness of the room was heavy with scent, and Leh Shin stumbled +over unknown things. Coryndon struck a match and held it in the hollow +of one palm as he opened the aperture in the dark lantern he carried, +and lighted it. When he had done so he looked up, and taking no notice +of the masses of beautiful things, he went quickly to the silk cupboard, +opening it with another key on the ring.</p> + +<p>"Leh Shin," he said, speaking in a commanding whisper, "turn thyself +into an ear, and listen for me while I search."</p> + +<p>Leh Shin nodded silently, half-stupidly it seemed, and went on tip-toes +to the door that opened into the passage. All the power of the past was +over him, and though he heard the Burman's curt command he hardly seemed +to understand what he meant. For a little time he stood at the door, +hearing the rustling whisper of yards of silk torn down and glanced over +and discarded, and then he wandered almost without knowing it up the +staircase and through the rooms, until the sight of Mhtoon Pah's bed and +some of Mhtoon Pah's clothing recalled his mind to the reason of his +being there.</p> + +<p>He hurried down, his bare feet making no sound on the stairs, and looked +into the shop again. The Burman was seated on the floor, a width of silk +over his knees; all the displaced rolls had been put back. He had worked +swiftly and with the greatest care that no trace of his visit should be +known later.</p> + +<p>Leh Shin slid out again. The passage was dark as pitch, but he knew +every turn and twist of its windings, and he knew that it led down to +the cellars below the house. He was awake and alert now as Coryndon +himself, and as he strained his ears he caught a sound. He listened +again with horrible eagerness, looked back into the shop and saw the +stooping head going over every yard of a roll of fine silk faithfully; +and then he gripped the knife under his belt and, feeling along the wall +with his free hand, followed along the corridor. Once only he glanced +round and then the darkness of the corridor swallowed him from sight.</p> + +<p>Coryndon, busy with the silk made by the lake-dwellers spread over his +knees, knew nothing of Leh Shin's disappearance. The fever of chase was +in his blood, and he threw the flimsy yards through his hands. Nothing, +nothing, and again nothing, and again—he felt his heart swell with +sudden, stifled excitement. Under his hand was a three-cornered rent, a +damaged piece where a patch rather larger than his palm had been roughly +cut out. His usually steady hand shook as he put the stained rag over it +and fitted it into the place.</p> + +<p>"Leh Shin," he called, as he rose, but he called softly.</p> + +<p>No sound answered his whisper, and he stiffened his body and listened. +He had been wrong. There was a sound, but it did not come from inside +the shop: it was the slow footstep of a heavy man pausing to find a key.</p> + +<p>Coryndon listened no longer. He closed the door of the silk cupboard, +bundled up the yards of silk in his arms and extinguishing the lamp +darted behind a screen. It was a heavy carved teak screen, inset with +silk panels embroidered with a long spray of hanging wistaria on a dark +yellow ground. As he hid himself, he cursed his own stupidity. In the +excitement of his desire to enter the curio shop, he had forgotten to +hamper the lock with pebbles.</p> + +<p>After what seemed an age, the door opened slowly and Mhtoon Pah came in. +Something, he knew not what, had dragged him away from the Pagoda, and +dragged him back to his shop. His eyes looked mad and unnatural in the +light of the lantern he held in his hand, and he shut the door and stood +like a dog who scents danger, and stared round the room. He walked to +the silk cupboard and looked in through the glass panes, but did not +open it or discover that it was unlocked. He paced round the room, +stopping before the screen, his eyes still reflecting his trouble of +mind.</p> + +<p>From behind the screen, Coryndon watched every stir he made; he saw the +look on his face and noted Mhtoon Pah's smallest movement. There was no +evidence of thieves, and yet suspicion made itself plain in every line +of the curio dealer's body. At last, with a gasping sigh, he sat before +the small figure of an alabaster Gaudama and stared at it with unwinking +eyes.</p> + +<p>"I shed no blood," he said, in a low rattling voice. "I shed no blood. +My hands are clean."</p> + +<p>Over and over he repeated the words, like an incantation, his voice +rising and falling, until Coryndon could have emerged from his hiding +and taken him by the throat.</p> + +<p>The thought of coming out upon Mhtoon Pah crossed his mind, but his +instinct held him back. He wondered desperately where Leh Shin had gone, +and if he would come in upon the Burman making his strange prayer. Still +Mhtoon Pah repeated the words and swayed to and fro before the image of +the Buddha, and the very moments seemed to pause and listen with +Coryndon. The shop was close and the air oppressive. Little trickles of +sweat ran down his neck and made channels in the stain on his skin, and +still Coryndon waited in tense suspense.</p> + +<p>For nearly ten minutes Mhtoon Pah continued to rock and mutter on the +floor, and then he got up, and, taking his lantern, went out by the door +into the passage. Coryndon waited for the sound of a scuffle and a +fall, but none came, and he was in the dark, surrounded by silence once +more.</p> + +<p>Without waiting to consider, he followed across the room and saw the +swinging light go down the passage and disappear suddenly. It seemed to +Coryndon that Mhtoon Pah had disappeared, as though he had gone through +the wall at the end of the passage, and he followed slowly. Silence +locked him in again, the dark, motionless silence of enclosed space.</p> + +<p>He did not dare to call out again to Leh Shin, and for all that he could +tell, the Chinaman might have been an arm's-reach away from him in the +darkness, also waiting for some sudden thing to happen. The dark passage +was an ante-chamber to some event: Coryndon's tingling nerves told him +that; and he steadied himself, holding in his imagination in a close, +resolute grip.</p> + +<p>He had no way of judging the time that passed, but he guessed that it +seemed longer to him than it possibly could have been; when from +somewhere far below him, he heard a cry and the noise of several voices, +all raised into indistinct clamour.</p> + +<p>"More than one man," he thought, as his heart beat quickly. "<i>More than +two</i>," he added, in wonder as he strained in the effort of listening.</p> + +<p>The noise died out, and one low wail, continuous and plaintive, filled +the blank of dark silence. Coryndon felt for his matches, and knelt on +the floor, feeling before him with his hands. The crying had ceased, and +he touched the edge of a step. A long, steep flight began just under his +hand.</p> + +<p>He leaned back and held the match-box in his hand, knowing that he +could not venture the descent in the dark, and as he took out a match a +new sound caught his ear. A man was running in the dark. He heard him +stumble over the lower steps as he panted fiercely and he broke into a +cry as he ran, a strange, mad, sobbing cry, and he still gasped and gave +out his wordless wail as he tore past Coryndon and on along the passage +and into the shop.</p> + +<p>Coryndon heard the door bang behind him, he heard the sound of some +heavy thing being dragged before it. The footsteps and the voice were +not those of Leh Shin, and Coryndon knew that Mhtoon Pah had fled like a +man pursued by devils, and had barricaded himself in.</p> + +<p>For a moment Coryndon paused, and then lighted a match. Close under his +feet was the perilous edge of a staircase leading sheer down into a +well-like depth of blackness. A thin scream came up to him, and without +waiting to consider, he ran down quickly. At the bottom he found Mhtoon +Pah's overturned lantern, and relighting it, he followed the +intermittent call of fear that echoed through the damp, cavernous place +he found himself in.</p> + +<p>A closed door stood at the end of a narrow passage, and from the further +side of the door a stifled sound of terror came persistently. Leh Shin +sat in a huddled heap against the door, and Coryndon stooped over him, +throwing the light from the lantern he carried upon him.</p> + +<p>"I looked into his eyes," said the Chinaman, in a weak voice, "and once +more he overcame me. His knife rent my arm, and I fell as though dead."</p> + +<p>Coryndon supported him to his feet. His mind was working quickly.</p> + +<p>"Canst thou stand by thyself?" he asked impatiently.</p> + +<p>The Chinaman gave a nod of assent, and Coryndon hammered on the door, +throwing all his weight against it, until it cracked and fell inwards +under the nervous force of his slight frame.</p> + +<p>What Coryndon expected to see, he did not know. He was following his +natural instinct when he threw aside the chase and capture of Mhtoon Pah +and burst into the cellar-room. It was small and close, and smelt of the +foul, fruity atmosphere of mildew. The ceiling was low, and crouching in +one corner was a small boy, clad only in a loin-cloth, who stared at +them and screamed with fear.</p> + +<p>"The Chinamen, the Chinamen!" he shrieked. "Mhtoon Pah, the Chinamen."</p> + +<p>"Absalom," the name came to Coryndon's lips, as he stood staring at him. +"My God, it must be Absalom."</p> + +<p>He had spoken in English before he had time to think, and he turned to +see if his self-betrayal had struck upon the confused brain of Leh Shin, +but Leh Shin knew nothing and saw nothing but the face of the boy his +enemy loved. He had placed the lamp on the floor and was feeling for his +dagger, his eyes fascinated and his lips working soundlessly.</p> + +<p>Coryndon caught him by the shoulder and snatched his knife from his +hand.</p> + +<p>"Fool," he said. "Wouldst thou ruin all at the end? Listen closely and +attend to me. Now is the moment to cry for the police. Thine enemy is in +a close net; show me swiftly the way by which I may go out of this +house, and sit thou here and stir not, neither cry out nor speak until +thou hearest the police. By the way I go out will I leave the door open, +and some will enter there, and others at the front of the house."</p> + +<p>He turned to look at the boy, who pointed at the Chinaman and continued +to shriek for Mhtoon Pah. It was no moment for hesitation, though +Coryndon's thoughts went to the shop and the front door. By that door +Mhtoon Pah might already have escaped, but even allowing for this, there +was time to catch him again. He followed the way pointed out by the +shaking hand of Leh Shin.</p> + +<p>"If thou fail in aught that I have told thee, or if the boy escape or +suffer under thy hand, then is thine end also come," he said, as he +stood for a moment in the aperture that led into a waste place at the +back of the house; and then Coryndon ran through the night.</p> + +<p>The rain had come on, teeming, relentless rain that fell in pitiless +sheets out of a black sky. The roads ran with liquid mud and the stones +cut Coryndon's bare feet, but he ran on, his lungs aching and his throat +dry. It is not easy to think with the blood hammering in the pulses and +the breath coming short through gasping lungs, but Coryndon kept his +mind fixed upon one idea with steady determination. His object was to +get into the house unnoticed, and to awake Hartley without betraying +himself to the servants.</p> + +<p>Hartley's bungalow was closed for the night, and the <i>Durwan</i> slept +rolled in a blanket in a corner of the veranda. Coryndon held his +sobbing breath and crept along the shadows, watching the man closely +until the danger zone was passed, and then he ran on around the sharp +angle of the house and dived into Hartley's room. In the centre stood +the bed, draped in the ghostly outlines of white mosquito-curtains, and +Coryndon walked lightly over the matted floor and shook the bed gently. +Hartley stirred but did not wake, and Coryndon called his name and +continued to call it in a low whisper. The Head of the Police stirred +again and then sat up suddenly and answered Coryndon in the same low +undertone.</p> + +<p>"Get into your clothes quickly, while I tell you what has happened," +said Coryndon, sitting low in the shadow of the bed, and while Hartley +dressed he told him the details shortly and clearly.</p> + +<p>The bungalow was still in darkness, and, with a candle in his hand to +light him, Hartley went into his office and rang up the Paradise Street +Police Station. When he came back Coryndon was standing looking through +a corner of a raised chick.</p> + +<p>"The <i>Durwan</i> is awake," he said, without turning his head. "Call him +round to the front, otherwise he may see me."</p> + +<p>"Come on, come on, man," said Hartley impatiently, "there is no time to +lose."</p> + +<p>Coryndon turned and smiled at him.</p> + +<p>"This is where I go out of the case," he said. "I shall be back in time +for breakfast to-morrow," and without waiting to argue the point he +dived out into the waning darkness of the night, leaving Hartley looking +helplessly after him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXIV" id="XXIV" />XXIV</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH A WOODEN IMAGE POINTS FOR THE LAST TIME</h3> + + +<p>Before the Burman left Leh Shin in charge of Absalom, he had pinned the +Chinaman by the arms and spoken to him in strange, strong words that +scorched clear across the chaos in his mind and made him understand a +hidden thing. The fact that this man was not a mad convict, but a member +of the great secret society who tracked the guilty, almost stunned the +Chinaman, who knew and understood the immense power of secret societies.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah might be driving wildly along a road leading out of +Mangadone, and though one old Chinaman and a mad Burman could not stop +him, the long arm of police law would grab and capture his gross body. +Leh Shin sat quite still, content to rest and consider this. Telegrams +flashed messages under the great bidding of authority, men sprang armed +from stations in every village, the close grip of fate was not more +close than the grasp of the awakened machinery of justice, and in the +centre of its power Mhtoon Pah was helpless as a fly in the web of a +spider.</p> + +<p>"He travels fast, and fear is sitting on his shoulder, for he travels +to his death," he repeated over and over, swaying backwards and +forwards.</p> + +<p>He had an opium pellet hidden somewhere in his clothes, and he found it +and turned it over his tongue; weariness and sleep conquered the pain, +and Leh Shin sat with his head bent forward in heavy stupor. From this +condition he awoke to lights and noises and the sound of a file working +on iron.</p> + +<p>The police had come and Hartley was bending over the boy, talking to him +kindly and reassuring him as far as he could. Upstairs, the heavy thud +of blows on the outer door of the shop echoed through the house with +steady, persistent sound.</p> + +<p>Dawn had come in real earnest, and the street, but lately returned from +the excitements of the feast at the Pagoda, was thrilled by a new and +much more satisfying sensation. Three blue-coated, leather-belted +policemen were on the top of the steps that led to the door of the curio +shop, forcing it in. The heavy bolts held, and though the padlocked +chain hung idle, the door resisted all their efforts.</p> + +<p>Hartley was down in the cellars, and his way through to the shop was +blocked . . . blocked by the inner door which was also closed from +inside, and somewhere within was Mhtoon Pah. He was very silent in his +shop. No amount of hammering called forth any response, and even when +the door gave way and the bolt fell clattering to the ground, he did not +spring out.</p> + +<p>People had sometimes wondered at the curious destiny of the wooden man. +He had been there so long and had done his duty so faithfully. In rain +or shine alike, he had always been in the street, eternally bowing the +passers up the steps. Americans had tried to buy him, and had wished to +take him home to point at other free and enlightened citizens, but +Mhtoon Pah refused all offers of money. The wooden man was faithful to +him, and he in his turn was, in some way, faithful to the wooden man. He +had been there when Mhtoon Pah was a clerk and had indicated his rise, +he had seen him take over possession of the shop, and he had been +witness to many trivial things, and now he stood, the crowd behind him, +and pointed silently again. It seemed right for him to point, but it was +grotesque that he still smiled and bent forward.</p> + +<p>The closed gates of the dawn opened and let in the sun, and the pale +yellow light ventured across the threshold where the policemen hung +back, and even the crowd in the street were silent. The light fell on a +thousand small things that reflected its rays; it fell on a heavy carved +box drawn across the further entrance, on the swinging glass doors of +the open silk cupboard, on bowls of silver and bowls of brass, and it +fell full on the thing that of all others drew the horrified eyes of the +watchers.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah, the wealthy curio dealer, the shrine builder, the friend of +the powerful, hung from a beam across the centre of the low ceiling, and +Mhtoon Pah was dead, strangled in a fine, silk scarf. Fine, strong silk +made only by certain lake-dwellers in a wild place just across the Shan +frontier.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the destiny which Shiraz believed a man may not escape, be he as +fleet as a flying stag, had caught up with him, and it was not without +reason that the image had pointed at something not there years ago, not +there when youth was there, and hope and love, and when Leh Shin had +lived and been happy there, but to come, certainly and surely to come.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Hartley and Coryndon sat long over their breakfast. Coryndon's face was +strained and tired, and heavy lines of fatigue were marked under his +dark eyes.</p> + +<p>"The boy was not in a condition to give any lucid explanation when I +brought him back," said Hartley, "so I left him until we could both hear +his story together." He called to his Bearer and gave instructions for +the boy to be brought in.</p> + +<p>Coryndon nodded silently; his eyes lit up with interest and all his +listlessness vanished as he watched the door.</p> + +<p>Following Hartley's Bearer, a small, thin boy came into the room, +dressed in a white suit, with a tight white pugaree folded round his +head. He shrank nervously at every sound, and when he salaamed to +Hartley and Coryndon his face worked as though he was going to burst +into tears.</p> + +<p>"You have nothing to be afraid of," said Hartley kindly. "Just tell the +whole truth, and explain how it was that you came to be shut up in the +curio shop."</p> + +<p>The boy's eyes grew less terrified, and he began to speak in a low, +mumbling voice. He began in the middle of the account, and Hartley +gently but firmly pushed him back to the beginning.</p> + +<p>"Start with the story of the lacquer bowl," he said, talking very slowly +and clearly. "We want to hear what happened about that first."</p> + +<p>The mention of the subject of lacquer threw Absalom once more into a +state of panic, but as his story progressed he became more sure of +himself, and looked up, forgetting his fear in the excitement of having +a really remarkable story to tell, that was listened to by Sahibs with +intent interest.</p> + +<p>In tearful, stumbling words he admitted that he and Leh Shin's assistant +had been friends, and that those evil communications that corrupt not +only good manners but good morals had worked with disastrous results +upon him. With his brown knuckles to his protruding eyes, he admitted, +further, that he had stolen the gold lacquer bowl from the drugged and +drunken seaman, and that Leh Shin's assistant had plundered him of more +than half his rightful share of the profit. What remained over, he +protested, he intended to give to the "Missen," testifying to the fact +that his conscience was causing him uneasiness and that his natural +superstition made him adopt means, not unknown to other financiers, of +squaring things by a donation to a charitable object.</p> + +<p>He went on to explain that Mhtoon Pah had required him to come back late +by an unfrequented alley, from where his master himself had admitted him +into the basement of the shop. There was nothing altogether unusual +about this, it appeared, as Mhtoon Pah was very strange in his ways at +times. He cooked his own food for fear of poison, and was constantly +suspecting some indefinite enemy of designs upon his life. What was +unusual was the fact that he had been taken at once into the small cell, +and that, once there, Mhtoon Pah had behaved like a madman.</p> + +<p>Absalom could recall no coherent account of what the curio dealer had +told him. He had spoken to him of murder, and told him that the Chinamen +in the Quarter, headed by Leh Shin, were looking for him to kill him, +and that, for his safety, he must remain hidden away. Mhtoon Pah told +him that he would protect him, and that he would produce evidence to +have Leh Shin hanged, and that once he was dead he would then emerge +again, but not until then. He told him how Chinamen killed their +victims, and his fears and terrors communicated themselves to the boy, +who delivered himself up to bondage without resistance.</p> + +<p>For weeks Absalom dragged out a miserable existence, loose when Mhtoon +Pah was in the shop, but chained to the wall whenever he went out, and +only for an hour after midnight was the boy ever allowed to emerge into +the dark, waste garden at the back of the house. The rest of the time +was spent in the cell, and Absalom broke into incoherent wailing as he +called Hartley and Coryndon to witness that it had been a hard life.</p> + +<p>As the end of his story approached, Absalom grew more dramatic and +quoted the parting words of Mhtoon Pah before he went out to attend the +<i>Pwé</i> at the Pagoda.</p> + +<p>"I leave thee in fear," said he, "for thou art the apple of my eye, O +Absalom, and when I am gone some calamity may befall. From whence it +comes I know not, but as men look at the heaped clouds behind the hills +and say, 'Lo, it will soon fall in rain,' so does my heart look out and +observe darkness, and I am ill-satisfied to quit this house."</p> + +<p>His words rang in the mind of the boy, shut into the stifling darkness +below the ground, and he remembered that he cried out for help, not once +but over and over again, and that his cries were eventually answered by +the voice of Leh Shin, who had called him a child of vipers and +threatened to enter and break him against the wall as he would a +plantain. After that Absalom had refrained from crying out, and had +waited silently expecting the door to open and admit Leh Shin and his +last moment simultaneously. Upon the silence came the sounds of +scuffling and hoarse cries, and it seemed to Absalom that Leh Shin had +called out that he had already cut the heart from his ribs, and was +about to force it down Mhtoon Pah's throat, and then nothing was very +clear until voices and lights roused him from stupor to fresh terror and +alarm.</p> + +<p>He knew that the door had been unlocked and that a light travelled in, +held by a strange Burman, and that his terror of Leh Shin had made him +see things strangely, as though from a long way off; until, at the last, +the police had come and knocked the chain off his leg, and someone had +told him that his master was dead and had been found hanging in the +shop.</p> + +<p>Absalom's face quivered and he began to whimper.</p> + +<p>"And now my master is dead, and never in Mangadone shall I find such +another who will care for me and give me the pleasant life in Paradise +Street."</p> + +<p>Hartley handed the boy some money.</p> + +<p>"Take him away," he said to the Bearer. "You have told your story very +well, Absalom."</p> + +<p>He looked across at Coryndon when the room was empty, but Coryndon was +fiddling with some crumbs at the edge of the table.</p> + +<p>"Madness is the real explanation, I suppose," he said tentatively. +"Madness and obsession."</p> + +<p>"Obsession," echoed Coryndon. "That word explains almost every +inexplicable act in life." He took up a knife and held it level on his +palm. "There you have the normal condition, but once one end swings up +you get Genius and all the Arts, or madness and crime and the obsession +of one idea: one definite, over-mastering idea that drives every force +harnessed to its car."</p> + +<p>He got up and stretched his arms, and walked out through the veranda +into his room, where Shiraz was folding his clothes and laying them in +an open portmanteau. The old servant stood up and made a low salaam to +his master.</p> + +<p>"When the sun is down the wise traveller hurries to the Serai," Coryndon +said to him. "I leave to-night for Madras, Shiraz, and you with me."</p> + +<p>"The end of all things is just, Huzoor," replied the old man, a strange +light of reflection in his dim pebble-like eyes. "Is it not written that +none may rise so high, or plunge so deep, that he does not follow the +hidden path to the hidden end? For like a wind that goes and returns +never, or the shadow of a cloud passing over the desert, is the destiny +of a man."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="GLOSSARY" id="GLOSSARY" />GLOSSARY</h2> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Almirah</i></td><td align='center'>A press</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Babu</i></td><td align='center'>A clerk</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Butti</i></td><td align='center'>Lamp</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Charpoy</i></td><td align='center'>Bed</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Chota haziri</i></td><td align='center'>(Little breakfast) Early morning tea </td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Dhobie</i></td><td align='center'>Washerman</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Durwan</i></td><td align='center'>Watchman</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Ghee</i></td><td align='center'>Butter</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Gharry</i></td><td align='center'>Cab</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Gaudama</i></td><td align='center'>Buddha</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Htee</i></td><td align='center'>Topmost pinnacle</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Hypongyi</i></td><td align='center'>Priests</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Inshallah, Huzoor</i></td><td align='center'>God give you fortune, Prince</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Joss</i></td><td align='center'>A god</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Khitmutghar</i></td><td align='center'>Footman</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Loongyi</i></td><td align='center'>Petticoat</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Napi</i></td><td align='center'>Rotten fish</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Nats</i></td><td align='center'>Tree spirits</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Pani walla</i></td><td align='center'>Water carrier</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Pwé</i></td><td align='center'>Feast</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Serai</i></td><td align='center'>Rest house</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Sirkar</i></td><td align='center'>Government</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Syce</i></td><td align='center'>Groom</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Tamasha</i></td><td align='center'>A show</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Thakin</i></td><td align='center'>Master</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Topi</i></td><td align='center'>Hat</td><td align='center'></td></tr></table> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14049 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aae6d1b --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #14049 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14049) diff --git a/old/14049-8.txt b/old/14049-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..405a265 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14049-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8153 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Pointing Man, by Marjorie Douie + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Pointing Man + A Burmese Mystery + +Author: Marjorie Douie + +Release Date: November 15, 2004 [EBook #14049] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POINTING MAN *** + + + + +Produced by Steven desJardins and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + +THE POINTING MAN + +_A Burmese Mystery_ + +BY MARJORIE DOUIE + +NEW YORK +E.P. DUTTON & COMPANY +1920 + + + + +CONTENTS + +I + +IN WHICH THE DESTINY THAT PLAYS WITH MEN MOVES THE PIECES ON THE +BOARD + +II + +TELLS THE STORY OF A LOSS, AND HOW IT AFFECTED THE REV. FRANCIS +HEATH + +III + +INDICATES A STANDPOINT COMMONLY SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT THE +PRINCIPLES OF THE JESUIT FATHERS + +IV + +INTRODUCES THE READER TO MRS. WILDER IN A SECRETIVE MOOD + +V + +CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, FINDS THAT HIS MEMORY IS NOT TO BE +TRUSTED + +VI + +TELLS HOW ATKINS EXPLAINS FACTS BY PEOPLE AND NOT PEOPLE BY +FACTS, AND HOW HARTLEY, HEAD OF THE POLICE, SMELLS THE SCENT OF +APPLE ORCHARDS GROWING IN A FOOL'S PARADISE + +VII + +FINDS THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH READING GEORGE HERBERT'S POEMS, AND +LEAVES HIM PLEDGED TO A POSSIBLY COMPROMISING SILENCE + +VIII + +SHOWS HOW THE CLOAK OF DARKNESS OF ONE NIGHT HIDES MANY +EMOTIONS, AND MRS. WILDER IS FRANKLY INQUISITIVE + +IX + +MRS. WILDER IS PRESENTED IN A MELTING MOOD, AND DRAYCOTT WILDER +IS FORCED TO RECALL THE LINES COMMENCING "A FOOL THERE WAS" + +X + +IN WHICH CRAVEN JOICEY IS OVERCOME BY A SUDDEN INDISPOSITION, +AND HARTLEY, WITHOUT LOOKING FOR HIM, FINDS THE MAN HE WANTED + +XI + +SHOWS HOW THE "WHISPER FROM THE DAWN OF LIFE" ENABLES CORYNDON +TO TAKE THE DRIFTING THREADS BETWEEN HIS FINGERS + +XII + +SHOWS HOW A MAN MAY CLIMB A HUNDRED STEPS INTO A PASSIONLESS +PEACE, AND RETURN AGAIN TO A WORLD OF SMALL TORMENTS + +XIII + +PUTS FORWARD THE FACT THAT A SUDDEN FRIENDSHIP NEED NOT BE BASED +UPON A SUDDEN LIKING; AND PASSES THE NIGHT UNTIL DAWN REVEALS A +SHAMEFUL SECRET + +XIV + +TELLS HOW SHIRAZ, THE PUNJABI, ADMITTED THE FRAILTIES OF +ORDINARY HUMANITY, AND HOW CORYNDON ATTENDED AFTERNOON SERVICE, +AND CONSIDERED THE VEXED QUESTION OF TEMPERAMENT + +XV + +IN WHICH THE FURTHERING OF A STRANGE COMRADESHIP IS CONTINUED, +AND A BEGGAR FROM AMRITZAR CRIES IN THE STREETS OF MANGADONE + +XVI + +IN WHICH LEH SHIN IS BREATHED UPON BY A JOSS AND EXPERIENCES THE +TERROR OF A MAN WHO TOUCHES THE VEIL BEHIND WHICH THE IMMORTALS +DWELL + +XVII + +TELLS HOW CORYNDON LEARNS FROM THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH WHAT THE +REV. FRANCIS HEATH NEVER TOLD HIM + +XVIII + +THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH UNLOCKS HIS DOOR AND SHOWS WHAT LIES +BEHIND + +XIX + +IN WHICH LEH SHIN WHISPERS A STORY INTO THE EAR OF SHIRAZ, THE +PUNJABI; THE BURDEN OF WHICH IS: "HAVE I FOUND THEE, O MINE +ENEMY?" + +XX + +CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, IS FACED BY A MAN WITH A WHIP IN HIS +HAND, AND CORYNDON FINDS A CLUE + +XXI + +DEMONSTRATES THE PERSUASIVE POWER OF A KNIFE EDGE, AND TELLS A +STORY OF A GOLD LACQUER BOWL + +XXII + +IN WHICH CORYNDON HOLDS THE LAST THREAD AND DRAWS IT TIGHT + +XXIII + +DEMONSTRATES THE TRUTH OF THE AXIOM THAT "THE UNEXPECTED ALWAYS +HAPPENS" + +XXIV + +IN WHICH A WOODEN IMAGE POINTS FOR THE LAST TIME + +GLOSSARY + + + + +THE POINTING MAN + +I + +IN WHICH THE DESTINY THAT PLAYS WITH MEN MOVES THE PIECES ON THE BOARD + + +Dust lay thick along the road that led through the very heart of the +native quarter of Mangadone; dust raised into a misty haze which hung in +the air and actually introduced a light undernote of red into the +effect. Dust, which covered the bare feet of the coolies, the velvet +slippers of the Burmese, which encroached everywhere and no one +regarded, for presently, just at sundown, shouting watermen, carrying +large bamboo vessels with great spouts, would come running along the +road, casting the splashing water on all sides, and reduce the dry +powder to temporary mud. + +The main street of the huge bazaar in Mangadone was as busy a +thoroughfare as any crowded lane of the city of London, and it blazed +with colour and life as the evening air grew cool. There were shops +where baskets were sold, shops apparently devoted only to the sale of +mirrors, shops where tailors sat on the ground and worked at sewing +machines; sweet stalls, food stalls, cafés, flanked by dusty tubs of +plants and crowded with customers, who reclined on sofas and chairs set +right into the street itself. Nearer the river end of the street, the +shops were more important, and business offices announced themselves on +large placards inscribed in English, and in curling Burmese characters +like small worms hooping and arching themselves, and again in thick +black letters which resembled tea leaves formed into the picturesque +design of Chinese writing, for Mangadone was one of the most +cosmopolitan ports of the East, and stood high in the commercial world +as a place for trade. + +Along the street a motley of colour took itself like a sea of shades and +tints. Green, crimson, lemon yellow, lapis-lazuli, royal purple, +intermingled with the naked brown bodies of coolies clad only in +loin-cloths, for every race and class emerged just before sunset. Rich +Burmen clad in yards of stiff, rustling silk jostled the lean, spare +Chinamen and the Madrassis who came to Mangadone to make money out of +the indolence of the natives of a place who cared to do little but smoke +and laugh. Poor Burmen in red and yellow cottons, as content with life +as their wealthy brethren, loitered and smoked with the little +white-coated women with flower-decked heads, and they all flowed on with +the tide and filled the air with a perpetual babel of sound. + +The great, high houses on either side of the street were dilapidated and +gaunt, let out for the most part in flats and tenements. Screaming +children swarmed naked and entirely unconcerned upon every landing, and +out on the verandas that gave publicity to the way of life in the +native quarter. Sometimes a rag of curtain covered the entrances to the +houses, but just as often it did not. Women washed the big brass and +earthenware pots, cooked the food, and played with the children in the +smoky darkness, or sat to watch the evening show of the street. + +At one corner of the upper end of the street was a curio and china shop +owned by a stout and wealthy Burman, Mhtoon Pah. The shop was one of the +features of the place, and no globe-trotting tourist could pass through +Mangadone without buying a set of tea-cups, a dancing devil, a carpet, +or a Burmese gong, from Mhtoon Pah. A strange-looking effigy in tight +breeches, with pointing yellow hands and a smiling yellow face, stood +outside the shop, eternally asking people in wooden, dumb show, to go in +and be robbed by the proprietor. He had stood there and pointed for so +long that the green glaze of his coat was sun-blistered, but he +invariably drew the attention of passing tourists, and acted as a +sign-board. He pointed at a small door up a flight of steps, and behind +the small door was a dark shop, smelling of sandal-wood and cassia, and +strong with the burning fumes of joss-sticks. Innumerable cardboard +boxes full of Japanese dolls, full of glass bracelets of all colours, +full of ivory figures, and full of amber and jade ornaments, were piled +in the shelves. Silver bands, embossed in relief with the history of the +Gaudama--the Lord Buddha--stood under glass protection, and everything +that the heart of the touring American or Britisher could desire was to +be had, at a price, in the curio shop of Mhtoon Pah. Umbrellas of all +colours from Bussan; silk from Shantung; carpets from Mirzapore; silver +peacocks, Japanese embroideries, shell-trimmed bags from Shan and +Cochin, all were there; and the wealth of Mhtoon Pah was great. + +Everybody knew the curio dealer: he had beguiled and swindled each new +arrival in Mangadone, and his personality helped to make him a very +definite figure in the place. He was a large man, his size accentuated +by his full silk petticoat; a man with large feet, large hands and a +round bullet head, set on a thick neck. He had a few sleek black hairs +at the corners of his mouth, and his long, narrow eyes, with thick +yellow whites and inky-black pupils, never expressed any emotion. +Clothed in strawberry-red silk and a white coat, with a crimson scarf +knotted low over his forehead, he was very nearly as strange and +wonderful a sight as his own shop of myriad wares, and his manner was at +all times the manner of a Grand Duke. Mhtoon Pah was as well known as +the pointing effigy outside, but, whereas the world in the street +believed they knew what the wooden man pointed at, no one could ever +tell what Mhtoon Pah saw, and no one knew except Mhtoon Pah himself. + +All day long Mhtoon Pah sat inside his shop on a low divan and smoked +cheroots, and only when a customer was of sufficient importance did he +ever rise to conduct a sale himself. He was assisted by a thin, eager +boy, a native Christian from Ootacamund, who had followed several trades +before he became the shop assistant of Mhtoon Pah. He was useful +because he could speak English, and he had been dressing-boy to a +married Sahib who lived in a big house at the end of the Cantonment, +therefore he knew something of the ways of Mem-Sahibs; and he had taken +a prize at the Sunday school, therefore Absalom was a boy of good +character, and was known very nearly as well as Mhtoon Pah himself. + +It was a hot, stifling evening, the evening of July the 29th. The rains +had lashed the country for days, and even the trees that grew in among +the houses of Paradise Street were fresh and green, though one of the +hot, burning breaks of blue sky and glaring sunlight had baked the road +into Indian-red dust once more, and the interior of Mhtoon Pah's curio +shop was heavy with stale scents and dark shadows that crept out as the +gloom of evening settled in upon it. Mhtoon Pah moved about looking at +his goods, and touching them with careful hands. He hovered over an +ivory lady carrying an umbrella, and looked long at a white marble +Buddha, who returned his look with an equally inscrutable regard. The +Buddha sat cross-legged, thinking for ever and ever about eternity, and +Mhtoon Pah moved round in red velvet toe-slippers, pattering lightly as +he went, for in spite of his bulk Mhtoon Pah had an almost soundless +walk. Having gone over everything and stood to count the silver bowls, +he waited as though he was listening, and after a little the light creak +of the staircase warned him that steps were coming towards the shop from +the upper rooms. + +"Absalom," he called, and the steps hurried, and after a moment's talk +to which the boy listened carefully as though receiving directions, he +told him to close the shop and place his chair at the top of the steps, +as he desired to sit outside and look at the street. + +When the chair was placed, Mhtoon Pah took up his elevated position and +smoked silently. The toil of the day was over, and he leaned his arm +along the back of his chair and crossed one leg over his knee. He could +hear Absalom closing the shop behind him, and he turned his curious, +expressionless eyes upon the boy as he passed down the steps and mingled +with the crowd in the street. Just opposite, a story-teller squatted on +the ground in the centre of a group of men who laughed and clapped their +hands, his flashing teeth and quick gesticulations adding to each point +he made; it was still clear enough to see his alternating expression of +assumed anger or amusement. It was clear enough to notice the coloured +scarves and smiling faces of a bullock cart full of girls going slowly +homewards, and it was clear enough to see and recognize the Rev. Francis +Heath, hurrying at speed between the crowd; clear enough to see the Rev. +Francis stop for a moment to wish his old pupil Absalom good evening, +and then vanish quickly like a figure flashed on a screen by a +cinematograph. + +Lights came out in high windows and sounds of bagpipes and beating +tom-toms began inside the open doors of a nautch house. An evil-looking +house where green dragons curled up the fretted entrance, and where, +overhead, faces peered from a balcony into the street. There was noise +enough there to attract any amount of attention. Smart carriages, with +white-uniformed _syces_, hurried up, bearing stout, plethoric men from +the wharf offices, and Mhtoon Pah saluted several of the sahibs, who +reclined in comfort behind fine pairs of trotting horses. + +Their time for passing having gone, and the street relieved of the +disturbance, lamps were carried out and set upon tables and booths, but +a few red streaks of evening tinted the sky, and faces that passed were +still recognizable. A bay pony ridden by a lady almost at a gallop came +so fast that she was up the street and round the corner in a twinkling. +If Mrs. Wilder was dining out on the night of July 29th she was running +things close; equally so if she was receiving guests. + +A flare of light from a window opposite fell across the face of the +dancing man, who pointed at Mhtoon Pah, and appeared to make him offer +his principal for sale, or introduce him to the street with an +indicating finger. The gloom grew, calling out the lights into strength, +but the concourse did not thin: it only gathered in numbers, and the +long, moaning hoot of an out-going tramp filled the air as though with a +wail of sorrow at departure. Lascars in coal-begrimed tunics joined in +with the rest, adding their voices to the babel, and round-hatted +sailors from the Royal Indian Marine ships mingled with them. + +All up and down the Mangadone River lights came out. Clear lights along +the land, and wavering torch-lights in the water. Ships' port-holes +cleared themselves in the darkness, ships' lights gleamed green and red +in high stars up in the crows'-nests, or at the shapeless bulk of dark +bows, and white sheets of strong electric clearness lay over one or two +landing-stages where craft was moored alongside and overtime work still +continued. Little sampans glided in and out like whispers, and small +boats with crossed oars, rowed by one man, ferried to and fro, but it +was late, and, gradually, all commercial traffic ceased. + +It was quite late now, an hour when European life had withdrawn to the +Cantonment. It was not an hour for Sahibs on foot to be about, and yet +it seemed that there was one who found the night air of July 29th hot +and close, and desired to go towards the river for the sake of the +breeze and the fresh air. He, too, like all the others, passed along +Paradise Street, passing quickly, as the others had passed, his head +bent and his eyes averted from the faces that looked up at him from easy +chairs, from crowded doorsteps, or that leaned over balconies. He, also, +whoever he was, had not Mhtoon Pah's leisure to regard the street, and +he went on with a steady, quick walk which took him out on to the wharf, +and from the wharf along a waste place where the tram lines ceased, and +away from there towards a cluster of lights in a house close over the +dark river itself. + +The stars came out overhead, and the Southern Cross leaned down; seen +from the river over the twin towers of the cathedral, seen from the +cathedral brooding over the native quarter, seen in Paradise Street not +at all, and not in any way missed by the inhabitants, whose eyes were +not upon the stars; seen again in the Cantonment, over the massed trees +of the park, and seen remarkably well from the wide veranda of Mrs. +Wilder's bungalow, where the guests sat after a long dinner, remarking +upon the heat and oppressiveness of the tropic night. The fire-flies +danced over the trees like iridescent sparks hung on invisible gauze, +and even came into the lighted drawing-room, to sparkle with less +radiance against the plain white walls. Fans whirred round and round +like large tee-totums set near the ceiling, and even the electric light +appeared to give out heat; no breeze stirred from the far-away river, no +coolness came with the dark, no relief from the brooding, sultry heat. +It was no hotter than many nights in any break in the rains, but the +guests invited by Mrs. Wilder felt the languor of the air, and felt it +more profoundly because their hostess herself was affected by it. + +Mrs. Wilder was a dark, handsome woman of thirty-five, usually full of +life and animation, and her dinners were known to be entertainments in +the real sense of the word. Draycott Wilder was no mate for her in +appearance or manner, but Draycott Wilder was marked by the Powers as a +successful man. He took very little part in the social side of their +married life, and sat in the shadow near the lighted door, listening +while his guests talked. The party was in no way different to many +others, and it would have ended and been forgotten by all concerned if +it had not been for the fact that an unusual occurrence broke it up in +dismay. Mrs. Wilder complained of the heat during dinner, and she had +been pale, looking doubly so in her vivid green dress; her usual +animation had vanished, and she talked with evident effort and seemed +glad of the darkness of the veranda. + +Suddenly one of those strange silences fell over everyone, silences that +may be of a few seconds' duration, but that appear like hours. What they +are connected with, no one can guess. The silence lasted for a second, +and it was broken with sudden violence. + +"My God," said the voice of Hartley, the Head of the Police, speaking in +tones of alarm. "Mrs. Wilder has fainted!" She had fallen forward in her +chair, and he had caught her as she fell. + +Very soon the guests dispersed and the bungalow was still for the night. +One or two waited to hear what the doctor had to say, and went away +satisfied in the knowledge that the heat had been too much for Mrs. +Wilder, and, but for that event, the dinner-party would have been +forgotten after two days. Hartley was the last to leave, and the sound +of trotting hoofs grew faint along the road. + +By an hour after midnight nearly the whole white population can be +presumed to be asleep; day wakes early in the East, and there are few +who keep all-night hours, because morning calls men from their beds to +their work, and even this hot, sultry night people lay on their beds and +tried to sleep; but in the small bungalow where the Rev. Francis Heath +lived with a solitary Sapper officer, the bed that he slept in was +smooth and unstirred by restless tossing inside the mosquito net. + +The Rev. Francis was out, sitting by the bed of a dying parishioner. He +watched the long hours through, dressed as he had been in the afternoon, +in a grey flannel suit, his thin neck too long and too spare for his +all-around collar, and as he watched sometimes and sometimes prayed, he +too felt the pressure of the night. + +The woman he prayed beside was dying and quite unconscious of his +presence. Now and then, to relieve the strain, he got up and stood by +the window, looking at the lights against the sky and thinking very +definitely of something that troubled him and drew his lips into a +tight, thin line. He was a young man of the type described usually as +"zealous" and "earnest," and a light that was almost the light of +fanaticism shone in his eyes. A dying parishioner was no more of a +novelty to Mr. Heath, than one of Mrs. Wilder's dinner-parties was to +her guests, and yet the woman on the bed appealed to his pity as few +others had done in his experience. + +When the doctor came he nodded to the clergyman and just touched the +hand on the quilt. He was in evening dress, and he explained that he had +been detained owing to his hostess having been taken suddenly ill. + +"Where is Rydal himself?" + +He asked the question carelessly, dropping the pulseless wrist. + +"Who can tell?" said the Rev. Francis Heath. + +"He'd better keep out of the way," continued the doctor. "I believe +there's a police warrant out for him. Hartley spoke of it to-night. She +will be gone before morning, and a good job for her." + +The throbbing hot night wore on, and July the 29th became July the 30th, +and Mangadone awoke to a fierce, tearing thunder-storm that boomed and +crashed and wore itself out in torrents of heavy rain. + + + + +II + +TELLS THE STORY OF A LOSS, AND HOW IT AFFECTED THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH + + +Half-way up a low hill rise on the far side of the Mangadone Cantonment +was the bungalow of Hartley, Head of the Police. It was a tidy, +well-kept house, the house of a bachelor who had an eye to things +himself and who was well served by competent servants. Hartley had +reached the age of forty without having married, and he was solid of +build and entirely sensible and practical of mind. He was spoken of as +"sound" and "capable," for it is thus we describe men with a word, and +his mind was adjusted so as to give room for only one idea at a time. He +was convinced that he was tactful to a fault, nothing had ever shaken +him in this belief, and his personal courage was the courage of the +British lion. Hartley was popular and on friendly and confidential terms +with everybody. + +Mangadone, like most other places in the East, was as full of cliques as +a book is of words, but Hartley regarded them not at all. Popularity was +his weakness and his strength, and he swam in all waters and was invited +everywhere. Mrs. Wilder, who knew exactly who to treat with distant +condescension and who to ignore entirely, invariably included him in +her intimate dinners, and the Chief Commissioner, also a bachelor, +invited him frequently and discussed many topics with him as the wine +circled. Even Craven Joicey, the banker, who made very few acquaintances +and fewer intimates, was friendly with Hartley; one of those odd, +unlikely friendships that no one understands. + +The week following upon the thunder-storm had been a week of grey skies +over an acid-green world, and even Hartley became conscious that there +is something mournful about a tropical country without a sun in the sky +as he sat in his writing-room. It was gloomy there, and the palm trees +outside tossed and swayed, and the low mist wraiths down in the valley +clung and folded like cotton-wool, hiding the town and covering it up to +the very top spires of the cathedral. Hartley was making out a report on +a case of dacoity against a Chinaman, but the light in the room was bad, +and he pushed back his chair impatiently and shouted to the boy to bring +a lamp. + +His tea was set out on a small lacquer table near his chair, and his +fox-terrier watched him with imploring eyes, occasionally voicing his +feelings in a stifled bark. The boy came in answer to his call, carrying +the lamp in his hands, and put it down near Hartley, who turned up the +wick, and fell to his reading again; then, putting the report into a +locked drawer, he drew his chair from the writing-table and poured out a +cup of tea. + +He had every reason to suppose that his day's work was done, and that he +could start off for the Club when his tea was finished. The wind rattled +the palm branches and came in gusts through the veranda, banging doors +and shaking windows, and the evening grew dark early, with the +comfortless darkness of rain overhead, when the wheels of a carriage +sounded on the damp, sodden gravel outside. Hartley got up and peered +through the curtain that hung across the door. Callers at such an hour +upon such a day were not acceptable, and he muttered under his breath, +feeling relieved, however, when he saw a fat and heavy figure in Burmese +clothing get out from the _gharry_. + +"If that is anyone to see me on business, say that this is neither the +place nor the hour to come," he shouted to the boy, and returning to the +tea-table, poured out a saucer of milk for the eager terrier, now +divided between his duties as a dog and his feelings as an animal. + +The boy reappeared after a pause, bearing a message to the effect that +Mhtoon Pah begged an immediate interview upon a subject so pressing that +it could not wait. + +Hartley listened to the message, swore under his breath, and looked +sharply at Mhtoon Pah when he came into the room. Usually the curio +dealer had a smile and a suave, pleasant manner, but on this occasion +all his suavity was gone, and his eyes, usually so inexpressive and +secret, were lighted with a strange, wolfish look of anger and rage that +was almost suggestive of insanity. + +He bowed before the Head of the Police and began to talk in broken, +gasping words, waving his hands as he spoke. His story was confused and +rambling, but what he told was to the effect that his boy, Absalom, had +disappeared and could not be found. + +"It was the night of the 29th of July, _Thakin_, and I sent him forth +upon a business. Next morning he did not return. It was I who opened the +shop, it was I who waited upon customers, and Absalom was not there." + +"What inquiries have you made?" + +"All that may be made, _Thakin_. His mother comes crying to my door, his +brothers have searched everywhere. Ah, that I had the body of the man +who has done this thing, and held him in the sacred tank, to make food +for the fishes." + +His dark eyes gleamed, and he showed his teeth like a dog. + +"Nonsense, man," said Hartley, quickly. "You seem to suppose that the +boy is dead. What reason have you for imagining that there has been foul +play?" + +"_Seem_ to suppose, _Thakin_?" Mhtoon Pah gasped again, like a drowning +man. "And yet the _Thakin_ knows the sewer city, the Chinese quarter, +the streets where men laugh horribly in the dark. Houses there, +_Thakin_, that crawl with yellow men, who are devils, and who split a +man as they would split a fowl--" he broke off, and waved his hands +about wildly. + +Hartley felt a little sick; there was something so hideous in the way +Mhtoon Pah expressed himself that he recoiled a step and summoned his +common sense to his aid. + +"Who saw Absalom last?" + +"Many people must have seen him. I sat myself outside the shop at sunset +to watch the street, and had sent Absalom forth upon a business, a +private business: he was a good boy. Many saw him go out, but no one saw +him return." + +"That is no use, Mhtoon Pah; you must give me some names. Who saw the +boy besides yourself?" + +Mhtoon Pah opened his mouth twice before any sound came, and he beat his +hands together. + +"The Padre Sahib, going in a hurry, spoke a word to him; I saw that with +my eyes." + +"Mr. Heath?" + +"Yes, _Thakin_, no other." + +"And besides Mr. Heath, was there anyone else who saw him?" + +Mhtoon Pah bowed himself double in his chair and rocked about. + +"The whole street saw him go, but none saw him return, neither will +they. They took Absalom into some dark place, and when his blood ran +over the floor, and out under the doors, the Chinamen got their little +knives, the knives that have long tortoise-shell handles, and very sharp +edges, and then--" + +"For God's sake stop talking like that," said Hartley, abruptly. "There +isn't a fragment of evidence to prove that the boy is murdered. I am +sorry for you, Mhtoon Pah, but I warn you that if you let yourself think +of things like that you will be in a lunatic asylum in a week." + +He took out a sheet of paper and made careful notes. The boy had been +gone four to five days, and beyond the fact that the Rev. Francis Heath +had seen and spoken to him, no one else was named as having passed along +Paradise Street. The clergyman's evidence was worth nothing at all, +except to prove that the boy had left Mhtoon Pah's shop at the time +mentioned, and Mhtoon Pah explained that the "private business" was to +buy a gold lacquer bowl desired by Mrs. Wilder, who had come to the shop +a day or two before and given the order. Gold lacquer bowls were +difficult to procure, and he had charged the boy to search for it in the +morning and to buy it, if possible, from the opium dealer Leh Shin, who +could be securely trusted to be half-drugged at an early hour. + +"It was the morning I spoke of, _Thakin_," said the curio dealer, who +had grown calmer. "But Absalom did not return to his home that night. He +may have gone to Leh Shin; he was a diligent boy, a good boy, always +eager in the pursuit of his duty and advantage." + +"I am very sorry for you, Mhtoon Pah," said Hartley again, "and I shall +investigate the matter. I know Leh Shin, and I consider it quite +unlikely that he has had anything to do with it." + +When Mhtoon Pah rattled away in the yellow _gharry_, Hartley put the +notes on one side. It was a police matter, and he could trust his staff +to work the subject up carefully under his supervision, and going to the +telephone, he communicated the principal facts to the head office, +mentioning the name of Leh Shin and the story of the gold lacquer bowl, +and giving instructions that Leh Shin was to be tactfully interrogated. + +When Hartley hung up the receiver he took his hat and waterproof and +went out into the warm, damp dusk of the evening. There was something +that he did not like about the weather. It was heavy, oppressive, +stifling, and though there was air in plenty, it was the stale air of a +day that seemed never to have got out of bed, but to have lain in a +close room behind the shut windows of Heaven. + +He remembered the boy Absalom well, and could recall his dark, eager +face, bulging eyes and protuberant under-lip, and the idea of his having +been decoyed off unto some place of horror haunted him. It was still on +his mind when he walked into the Club veranda and joined a group of men +in the bar. Joicey, the banker, was with them, silent, morose, and moody +according to his wont, taking no particular notice of anything or +anybody. Fitzgibbon, a young Irish barrister-at-law, was talking, and +laughing and doing his best to keep the company amused, but he could get +no response out of Joicey. Hartley was received with acclamations suited +to his general reputation for popularity, and he stood talking for a +little, glad to shake off his feeling of depression. When he saw Mr. +Heath come in and go up the staircase to an upstairs room, he followed +him with his eyes and decided to take the opportunity to speak to him. + +"What's the matter, Joicey?" he asked, speaking to the banker. "You look +as if you had fever." + +"I'm all right," Joicey spoke absently. "It's this infernally stuffy +weather, and the evenings." + +"I'm glad it's that," laughed Fitzgibbon, "I thought that it might be +me. I'm so broke that even my tea at _Chota haziri_ is getting badly +overdrawn." + +"Dine with me on Saturday," suggested Hartley, "I've seen very little of +you just lately." + +Joicey looked up and nodded. + +"I'll come," he said, laconically, and Hartley, finishing his drink, +went up the staircase. + +The reading-room of the Club was usually empty at that hour, and the +great tables littered with papers, free to any studious reader. When +Hartley came in, the Rev. Francis Heath had the place entirely to +himself, and was sitting with a copy of the _Saturday Review_ in his +hands. He did not hear Hartley come in, and he started as his name was +spoken, and putting down the _Review_, looked at the Head of the Police +with questioning eyes. + +"I've come to talk over something with you, Heath," Hartley began, +drawing a chair close to the table. "Can you remember anything at all of +what you were doing on the evening of July the twenty-ninth?" + +The Rev. Francis Heath dropped his paper, and stooped to pick it up; +certainly he found the evening hot, for his face ran with trickles of +perspiration. + +"July the twenty-ninth?" + +"Yes, that's the date. I am particularly anxious to know if you remember +it." + +Mr. Heath wiped his neck with his handkerchief. + +"I held service as usual at five o'clock." + +Hartley looked at him; there was something undeniably strained in the +clergyman's eyes and voice. + +"Ah, but what I am after took place later." + +The Rev. Francis Heath moistened his lips and stood up. + +"My memory is constantly at fault," he said, avoiding Hartley's eyes and +looking at the ground. "I would not like to make any specific statement +without--without--reference to my note-book." + +Hartley stared in astonishment. + +"This is only a small matter, Heath. I was trying to get round to my +point in the usual way, by giving no actual indication of what I wanted +to know. You see, if you tell a man what you want, he sometimes imagines +that what he did on another day is what really happened on the actual +occasion, and that, as you can imagine, makes our job very difficult. I +don't want to bother you, but as your name was mentioned to me in +connection with a certain investigation, I wished to test the truth of +my man's statement." + +Heath stood in the same attitude, his face pale and his eyes steadily +lowered. + +"It might be well for you to be more clear," he said, after a long +pause. + +"Did you go down Paradise Street just after sunset?" + +"I may have done so. I have several parishioners along the river bank." + +"Why the devil is he talking like this and looking like this?" Hartley +asked himself, impatiently. + +"I'm not a cross-examining counsel," he said, with some sharpness. "As +I told you before, Heath, it is only a very small matter." + +The Rev. Francis Heath gripped the back of his chair and a slight flush +mounted to his face. + +"I resent your questions, Mr. Hartley. What I did or did not do on the +evening of July the twenty-ninth can in no way affect you. I entirely +refuse to be made to answer anything. You have no right to ask me, and I +have no intention of replying." + +Hartley put his hand out in dismay. + +"Really, Heath, your attitude is quite absurd. I have already told one +man to-day that he was going mad; are you dreaming, man? I only want you +to help me, and you talk as if I had accused you of something. There is +nothing criminal in being seen in Paradise Street after sundown." + +Mr. Heath stood holding by the back of his chair, looking over Hartley's +head, his dark eyes burning and his face set. + +"Come, then," said the police officer abruptly, "who did you see? Did +you, for instance, see the Christian boy, Absalom, Mhtoon Pah's +assistant?" + +The Rev. Francis Heath made no answer. + +"Did you see him?" + +"I will not answer any further questions, but since you ask me, I did +see the boy." + +"Thank you, Heath; that took some getting at. Now will you tell me if +you saw him again later: I am supposing that you went down the wharf and +came back, shall I say, in an hour's time. Did you see Absalom again?" + +The clergyman stared out of the window, and his pause was of such +intensely long duration that when he said the one word, "No," it fell +like the splash of a stone dropped into a deep well. + +Hartley looked at his sleeve-links for quite a long time. + +"Good night, Heath," he said, getting up, but the Rev. Francis Heath +made no reply. + +Hartley went back to his bungalow with something to think about. He had +always regarded Heath as a difficult and rather violently religious man. +They had never been friends, and he knew that they never could be +friends, but he respected the man even without liking him. Now he was +quite convinced that Heath, after some deliberation with his conscience, +had lied to him, and it made him angry. He had admitted, with the +greatest reluctance, that he had been through Paradise Street, and seen +the boy, and his declaration that he had not seen him again did not ring +with any real conviction. It made the whole question more interesting, +but it made it unpleasant. If things came to light that called the +inquiry into court, the Rev. Francis Heath might live to learn that the +law has a way of obliging men to speak. If Hartley had ever been sure of +anything in his life, he was sure that Heath knew something of Absalom, +and knew where he had gone in search of the gold lacquer bowl that was +desired by Mrs. Wilder. He made up his mind to see Mrs. Wilder and ask +her about the order for the bowl; but he hardly thought of her, his mind +was full of the mystery that attached itself to the question of the +Rector of St. Jude's parish, and his fierce and angry refusal to talk +reasonably. + +He threw open his windows and sat with the air playing on his face, and +his thoughts circled round and round the central idea. Absalom was +missing, and the Rev. Francis Heath had behaved in a way that led him to +believe that he knew a great deal more than he cared to say, and Hartley +brooded over the subject until he grew drowsy and went upstairs to bed. + + + + +III + +INDICATES A STANDPOINT COMMONLY SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT THE PRINCIPLES OF +THE JESUIT FATHERS + + +It was quite early the following morning when Hartley set out to take a +stroll down Paradise Street, and from there to the Chinese quarter, +where Leh Shin had a small shop in a colonnade running east and west. +The houses here were very different to the houses in Paradise Street. +The fronts were brightened with gilt, and green and red paint daubed the +entrances. Almost every third shop was a restaurant, and Hartley did not +care to think of the sort of food that was cooked and eaten within. +Immense lanterns, that turned into coloured moons by night, but they +were pale and dim by day, hung on the cross-beams inside the houses. + +Some half-way down the colonnade, and deep in the odorous gloom, Leh +Shin worked at nothing in particular, and sold devils as Mhtoon Pah sold +them, but without the same success. The door of his shop was closed, and +Hartley rapped upon it several times before he received an answer; then +a bolt was shot back, and Leh Shin's long neck stretched itself out +towards the officer. He was a thin, gaunt figure, lean as the Plague, +and his spare frame was clad in cheap black stuff that hung around him +like the garments of Death itself. Hartley drew back a step, for the +smell of _napi_ and onions is unpleasant even to the strongest of white +men, and told Leh Shin to open the door wide as he wished to talk to +him. Leh Shin, with many owlish blinkings of his narrow eyes, asked +Hartley to come inside. The street was not a good place for talking, and +Hartley followed him into the shop. + +It was very dark within, and a dim light fell from high skylight +windows, giving the shop something of the suggestion of a well. Counters +blocked it, making entrance a matter of single file, and, in the deep +gloom at the back, two candles burned before a huge, ferocious-looking +figure depicted on rice-paper and stuck against the wall. It was hard to +believe that it was day outside, so heavy was the darkness, and it was a +few moments before Hartley's eyes became accustomed to the sudden +change. Second-hand clothes hung on pegs around the room, and all kinds +of articles were jumbled together regardless of their nature. On the +floor was a litter of silk and silver goods, boxes, broken portmanteaux, +ropes, baskets, and on the counter nearest the door a tiny silver cage +of beautiful workmanship inhabited by a tiny golden bird with ruby eyes. + +At the back of the shop and near the yellow circle of light thrown by +the candles, was a boy, naked to the waist, and immensely stout and +heavy. His long plait of hair was twisted round and round on his shaven +forehead, and he stood perfectly still, watching the officer out of +small pig eyes. He was chewing something slowly, turning it about and +about inside a small, narrow slit of a mouth, and his whole expression +was cunning and evil. Leh Shin followed Hartley's glance and saw the +boy, and the sight of him seemed to recall him to actual life, for he +spoke in words that sounded like stones knocking together and ordered +him out of the shop. The boy looked at him oddly for a moment; then +turned away, still munching, and lounged out of the room, stopping on +the threshold of a back entrance to take one more look at Hartley. + +As a rule Hartley was not affected by the peculiarities of the people he +dealt with, but Leh Shin's assistant impressed him unpleasantly. +Everything he did was offensive, and his whole suggestion loathsome. +Hartley was still thinking of him when he looked at Leh Shin, who stood +blinking before him, awaiting his words patiently. + +"Now, Leh Shin, I want to ask you a few questions. Do you sell lacquer +in this shop?" + +The Chinaman indicated that he sold anything that anyone would buy. + +"Do you happen to know that Mhtoon Pah was looking for a bowl of gold +lacquer, and that he sent his boy Absalom here to get it?" + +Leh Shin shook his head. He was a poor man, and he knew nothing. +Moreover, he knew nothing of July the twenty-ninth, he did not count +days. He had not seen the boy Absalom. + +"Let me advise you to be truthful, Leh Shin," said Hartley. "You may be +called upon to give an account of yourself on the evening and night of +July the twenty-ninth." + +Leh Shin looked stolidly at the mildewed clothes and tried to remember, +but he failed to be explicit, and the greasy, obese creature, still +chewing, was recalled to assist his master's memory. He spoke in a high +chirping voice, and looked at Hartley with angry eyes as he asserted +that his master had been ill upon the evening mentioned and that he had +closed the shop early, and that he himself had gone to the nautch house +to witness a dance that had lasted until morning. + +"You can prove what you say, I suppose," said Hartley, speaking to Leh +Shin, "and satisfy me that the boy Absalom was not here, and did not +come here?" + +Leh Shin, moved to sudden life, protested that he could prove it, that +he could call half Hong Kong Street to prove it. + +"I don't want Hong Kong Street. I want a creditable witness," said +Hartley, and he turned to go. "So far as I know, you are an honest +dealer, Leh Shin, and I am quite ready to believe, if you can help me, +that you were ill that night, but I must have a creditable witness." + +When he left the shop, Leh Shin looked at the fat, sodden boy, and the +boy returned his look for a moment, but neither of them spoke, and a few +minutes later the door was bolted from within, and they were once more +alone in the shadows, with the rags, the broken portmanteaux, the relics +of art, and the animal smell, and Hartley was out in the street. He was +pretty secure in the belief that Leh Shin had not seen the boy, and that +he knew nothing of the gold lacquer bowl, but he also believed that +Mhtoon Pah had been far too crafty to tell the Chinaman that anyone +particularly wanted such a treasure of art. Mhtoon Pah, or his emissary, +would have priced everything in the shop down to the most maggot-eaten +rag before he would have mentioned the subject of lacquer bowls. + +There was no mystery connected with the bowl, but there was something +sickening about Leh Shin's shop, and something utterly horrible about +his assistant. Hartley wished he had not seen him, he wished that he had +remained in ignorance of his personality. He thought of him in the +sweating darkness he had left, and as he thought he remembered Mhtoon +Pah's wild, extravagant fancies, and they grew real to his mind. + +It was next to impossible to discover what the truth was about Leh +Shin's illness on the night of July the 29th, and it really did not bear +very much upon the matter, unless there was no other clue to what had +become of the boy. Hartley returned to other matters and put the case on +one side for the moment. On his way back for luncheon he looked in at +Mhtoon Pah's shop. He had intended to pass, but the sight of the little +wooden man ushering him up the steps made him turn and stop and then go +in. Mhtoon Pah sat on his divan in the scented gloom, very different to +the interior of Leh Shin's shop, and when he saw Hartley he struggled to +his feet and demanded news of Absalom. + +"There is none yet," said Hartley, sitting down. "Now, Mhtoon Pah, are +you quite sure that it was Mr. Heath that you saw that evening?" + +"I saw him with these eyes. I saw him pass, and he was going quickly. I +read the walk of men and tell much by it. The Reverend was in a great +hurry. Twice did he pull out his watch as he came along the street, and +he pushed through the crowd like a rogue elephant going through a rice +crop. I have seen the Reverend walking before, and he walked slowly, he +spoke with the _Babus_ from the Baptist mission, but this day," Mhtoon +Pah flung his hands to the roof, "shall I forget it? This day he walked +with speed, and when my little Absalom salaamed before him, he hardly +stopped, which is not the habit of the Reverend." + +"Did you see him come back? Mr. Heath, I mean?" + +Mhtoon Pah stood and looked curiously at Hartley, and remained in a +state of suspended animation for a second. + +"How could I see him come back?" he said, in a flat, expressionless +voice. "I went to the Pagoda, _Thakin_. I am building a shrine there, +and shall thereby acquire much merit. I did not see the Reverend return. +Besides, he might not have come by the way of Paradise Street." + +"He might not." + +"It is not known," said Mhtoon Pah, shaking his head dubiously, and then +rage seemed to flare up in him once more. "It is Leh Shin, the +Chinaman," he said, violently. "Let it be known to you, _Thakin_, they +eat strange meats, they hold strange revels. I have heard things--" he +lowered his voice. "I have been told of how they slay." + +"Then keep the information to yourself, unless you can prove it," said +Hartley, firmly. "I want to hear nothing about it." He got up and looked +around the shop. "I suppose you haven't got the lacquer bowl since?" + +"No, _Thakin_, I have not got it, neither have I seen Leh Shin, an evil +man. The Lady Sahib will have to wait; neither has she been here since, +nor asked for the bowl." + +Hartley walked down the steps; he was troubled by the thought, and the +more he tried to work out some definite theory that left Mr. Heath +outside the ring that he proposed to draw around his subject, the more +he appeared on the horizon of his mind, always walking quickly and +looking at his watch. + +Through lunch he went over the facts and faced the Heath question +squarely, considering that if Heath knew that the boy was in trouble, +and had connived at his escape, he would be muzzled, but there was +nothing to show that Absalom had ever broken the law. His employer, +Mhtoon Pah, was in despair at his disappearance, his record was +blameless, and he had been entrusted with the deal in lacquer to be +carried out the following morning. + +Looking for Absalom was like tracing a shadow that has passed along a +street on soundless feet, and Hartley felt an eager determination seize +him to catch up with this flying wraith. + +Still with the same idea in his mind, he drove along the principal +roads in his buggy, directing his way towards the bungalow where the +Rector of St. Jude's lived with Atkins, the Sapper. The house was draped +in climbing and trailing creepers, and the grass grew into the red drive +that curved in a half-circle from one rickety gate to another. He came +up quietly on the soft, wet clay, and looked up at the house before he +called for the bearer, and as he looked up he saw a face disappear +quickly from behind a window. After a few minutes the boy came running +down a flight of steps from the back, and hurried in to get a tray, +which he held out for the customary card. + +"Take that away," said Hartley, "and tell the Padré Sahib that I must +see him." + +"The Padré Sahib is out, Sahib." + +The boy still held the tray like a collecting-plate. + +"Out," said Hartley, "nonsense. Go and tell your master that my business +is important." + +After a moment the boy returned again, the tray still in his hand. + +"Gone out, Sahib," he said, resolutely, and without waiting for any more +Hartley turned the pony's head and drove out slowly. + +Twice in two days Heath had lied, to his certain knowledge, and as he +glanced back at the bungalow, a curtain in an upper window moved +slightly as though it had been dropped in haste. + +Just as he turned into the road he came face to face with Atkins, +Heath's bungalow companion, and he pulled up short. + +"I've been trying to call on the Padré," he said, carelessly, "but he +was out." + +"Out," said Atkins, in a tone of surprise. "Why, that is odd. He told me +he was due at a meeting at half-past five, and that he wasn't going out +until then. I suppose he changed his mind." + +"It looks like it," said Hartley, dryly. + +"He hasn't been well these last few days," went on Atkins, quickly, +"said he felt the weather, and he certainly seems ill. I don't believe +the poor devil sleeps at all. Whenever I wake, I can see his light in +the passage." + +"That is bad," Hartley's voice grew sympathetic. "Has he been long like +this?" + +"Not long," said Atkins, who was constitutionally accurate. "I think it +began about the night after the thunder-storm, but I can't say for +certain." + +"Well, I won't keep you." Hartley touched the pony's quarters with his +whip. "I'm sorry I missed Heath, as I wanted to see him about something +rather important." + +"I'll tell him," said Atkins, cheerfully, "and probably he'll look you +up at your own house." + +"Will he, I wonder?" thought the police officer, and he set to work upon +the treadmill of his thoughts again. + +There is nothing in the world so tantalizing, and so hard to bear, as +the conviction that knowledge is just within reach and that it is +deliberately withheld. Heath stood between him and elucidation, and the +more firmly the clergyman held his ground, and the more definitely he +blocked the path, the more sure Hartley became that he did so of set +purpose. + +"But _why_, _why_?" he asked himself, as he drove through the Cantonment +towards Mrs. Wilder's bungalow. + +Atkins got off his bicycle and handed it over to his boy as he arrived +at the dreary entrance. + +"The Padré Sahib is out?" he said, in his brisk, matter-of-fact tones. + +"The Padré Sahib is upstairs," said the boy, with an immovable face; and +Atkins went up quickly. + +"Hallo, Heath, I met Hartley just now, and he said you were out." + +Heath looked up from a sheet of paper laid out on the writing-table +before him. + +"I did not feel up to seeing Hartley," he said, a little stiffly. "It is +not a convenient hour for callers, so I availed myself of an excuse." + +"He told me to tell you that it was rather a pressing matter that +brought him here, and I said that I would give you his message, and that +you would probably go round to see him." + +"You said that, Atkins?" + +His face was so drawn and unnatural that Atkins looked at him in +surprise. + +"I suppose I was right?" + +"If Hartley wants to see me," said Heath, in a loud, angry voice, "or if +he wants to come bullying and blustering, he must write and make an +appointment. I have every right to protect myself from a man who asks +personal and most impertinent questions." + +"Hartley, impertinent?" Atkins' eyes grew round. + +"When I say impertinent, I mean not pertinent, or bearing upon any +subject that I intend to discuss with him." + +The Rev. Francis Heath got up and walked towards the window, turning his +back upon the room. + +"I don't mix in social politics," said Atkins, soothingly. "But at the +same time, I can't understand you, Heath. What the devil does Hartley +want to know?" + +The clergyman caught at the curtain and gripped it as he had gripped the +back of his chair at the Club. + +"Never ask me that again, Atkins," he said, in a low, hoarse voice. +"Never speak to me about this again." + +Atkins retreated quickly from the room; there was something in the +manner of the Rev. Francis Heath that he did not like, and he registered +a mental vow to let the subject drop, so far as he, a lieutenant in His +Majesty's Royal Engineers, was concerned, and never to allude to it, +either for "fear or favour," again. + + + + +IV + +INTRODUCES THE READER TO MRS. WILDER IN A SECRETIVE MOOD + + +Draycott Wilder was a man who hoarded his passions and concentrated them +upon a very few objects. His work came first, and his intense ambition, +and after his work, his wife. She was the right sort of wife for a man +who put worldly success first, and through the years of their marriage +had helped him a great deal more than he ever admitted. Clarice Wilder +was beautiful, and had a surface cleverness combined with a natural gift +of tact that made her an admirable hostess. She could talk to anybody +and send them away pleased and satisfied with themselves, and she had +made the best of Draycott for a good number of years. She had married +him when marriage seemed a big thing and a wonderful thing, and her +country home in Devonshire a small, breathless place where nothing ever +happened, and where life was one long Sunday at Home, and Draycott, back +from the East, had appeared as interesting as a white Othello. + +For a time she received all she needed out of life, and she threw +herself into her husband's promotion-hunger; understanding it, because +she, too, wanted to reign, and it gave her an inexplicable feeling of +respect for him, for Clarice knew that had she been born a man, she, +too, would have worked and schemed and pushed herself out into the front +of the ranks. She combined with him as only an ambitious woman can +combine, and she supplied all he lacked. It filled her mind, and she +never awoke the jealousy that lay like a sleeping python in the heart of +Draycott Wilder. It was when they were in India that Clarice, for the +first time, lost her grip and allowed her senses to get the better of +her common sense, and she became for a brief time a woman with a very +troublesome heart. Hector Copplestone, a young man newly come to the +Indian Civil Service, was sent to their Punjaub station. He made Mrs. +Wilder realize her own charm, he made her terribly conscious that she +was older than him, he made her anxious and distracted and madly, +idiotically in love with him. She forgot that there were other things in +life, she put aside ambition for a stronger temptation, and she did not +care what Draycott thought or supposed. + +No one ever knew what happened, but everyone guessed that Wilder had +made trouble. They left India under the same cloud of silence, and they +reappeared in Mangadone to outside eyes the same couple who had pulled +together for successful years of marriage; and if some whisper, for +whispers carry far in the East, came after them, no one regarded it, and +the Copplestone incident was considered permanently closed. Draycott +Wilder was the same silent man who was the despair of his dinner +partners, and Clarice had her old brilliancy and her old way of making +men pleased with themselves; and though some people, chiefly young +girls, described her as "hard," she represented a centre of attraction, +and her one mad year was a thing of the past. + +Among the men who went to the terraced house in its huge gardens, she +always particularly welcomed Hartley, the Head of the Police. He never +demanded effort, and he had a good nature and a flow of small talk. +Nearly every woman liked Hartley, though very few of them could have +said why. He had fair, fluffy hair and a pink face; he was just weak +enough to be easily influenced, and he fell platonically in love with +every new woman he met without being in the least faithless to the +others. Mrs. Wilder had a corner in her heart for him, and he, in +return, looked upon Mrs. Wilder as a brilliant and lovely woman very +much too good for Draycott. He did not know that he took his ideas from +her whenever she wished him to do so; Mrs. Wilder, like a clever +conjurer, palmed her ideas like cards, and upheld the principle of free +will while she did so, and if she had desired to impress Hartley with +fifty-two new notions he would have left her positive in his own mind +that they were his own. + +Thus, Clarice Wilder may be classed as that melodramatic type that goes +about labelled "dangerous," only she had the wit to take off the label +and to advertise herself under the guise of a harmless soothing mixture. + +The bungalow in which the Wilders lived was an immense place, standing +over a terraced garden beautifully planted with flowers. Steps, covered +with white marble, led from terrace to terrace, and down to a +jade-green lake where water-lilies blossomed and pink lotus flowers +floated. Dark green trees plumed with shaded purple flowers accentuated +the massed yellow of the golden laburnums. The topmost flight of steps +led up to the house, and was flanked on either side with variegated +laurel growing in sea-green pots, and the red avenue, that took its +lengthy way from the main road, curved into a wide sweep outside the +flower-hung veranda. + +Hartley arrived at the house just as Mrs. Wilder was having tea alone in +the big drawing-room, and she smiled up at him with her curious eyes, +that were the colour of granite. Without exactly knowing what her age +was, Hartley felt, somehow, that she looked younger than she was, and +that she did not do so without some aid from "boxes," but he liked her +none the less for that, and possibly admired her more. He sat down and +asked her how she was, and, as he looked at her, he wondered to think +that she had ever fainted. Clearly, she was the last woman on earth who +could be accused of Victorian ways, and to see her in her white lace +dress, dark, distinguished, and perfectly mistress of her emotions, was +to be bewildered at the memory. She treated the question with scant +ceremony, and remarked upon the fact that the night had been hot, and +that everyone had felt it. + +"I've got an excellent reason for remembering the date," said Hartley +reflectively. "By the way, wasn't Absalom, old Mhtoon Pah's assistant, +once a dressing-boy or something in your establishment?" + +"He was, and then he went sick, and took to this other kind of work." + +"He was quite honest, I suppose?" + +"Perfectly honest," said Mrs. Wilder, with a slight lift of her +eyebrows, "and a nice little boy. I hope that question doesn't mean that +you are professionally interested in his past?" she laughed carelessly. +"I am quite prepared to stand up for Absalom; he was the soul of +integrity." + +Hartley put down his cup on the table. + +"The boy has disappeared," he said, talking with interest, for the +subject filled his mind. + +"But when, and how? I saw him quite lately." + +Hartley's round, China-blue eyes fixed upon her. + +"Can you tell me when you saw him?" + +"One night--evening, I should say--I was out riding and I passed him +going towards the wharf, not towards the wharf exactly, but to the +houses that lie out by the end of the tram lines." + +"What evening? I wish you could remember for me." + +"It was the night of my own dinner-party." + +"Then that was July the twenty-ninth?" + +Mrs. Wilder looked at him, and bit her lip. + +"Was it the twenty-ninth?" Hartley repeated the question. + +"Probably it was, if you say so. I told you just now that I had Burma +head. But where has Absalom gone to?" + +Hartley took up his cup again and stirred the spoon round and round. + +"Forgive me for pelting you with questions, but did you see Mr. Heath +that evening?" + +"Now, what _are_ you trying to get out of me, Mr. Hartley? Did Mr. Heath +tell you that he had seen me?" + +Hartley stared at his feet. + +"Heath has got Burma head, too, and won't tell me anything. It might +help his memory if you were able to say whether you had seen him or not +that evening." + +Mrs. Wilder's fine eyes glittered into a smile that was not exactly +mirthful or pleasant. + +"I don't see that I can possibly say one way or another. I often do +. . . I often do see him going about the native quarter when I ride +through, but I do not write it down in my book, so it is quite +impossible for me to say." + +"Anyhow, you saw Absalom?" + +"Oh, yes, I saw the boy. What a persistent man you are, and you haven't +told me a word yourself." + +"Absalom was to have got a gold lacquer bowl that you ordered from +Mhtoon Pah?" + +"Quite correct," laughed Mrs. Wilder with more of her usual manner. +"That old Barabbas has never sent it to me yet, either. I ordered it a +month ago. I love lacquer because it looks like nothing else, and +particularly gold lacquer." + +"Well, all I can tell you is that Absalom had an order from Mhtoon Pah +to get the bowl the next morning, if it was to be got, and he went away +as usual the night of the twenty-ninth, and never appeared again. Heath +saw him, and you saw him, and that is pretty nearly all the evidence I +can collect." + +"Evidence?" Mrs. Wilder's voice had a piercing note in it. + +"Yes, evidence. You see the only way to trace a man is to find out +exactly who saw him last, and where." + +"Ah, I see. You find out what everyone was doing, and where they were, +and you piece the bits in. It's like a jig-saw, and how very interesting +it must be." + +Hartley laughed. + +"Not what the other people were doing exactly, but where they were. It +is something to know that you saw the boy, but I wish you could remember +if you saw Heath." + +Mrs. Wilder got up and walked to the window. + +"I do hope he will be found. Did he take my lacquer bowl with him?" + +"He had not got it," said Hartley, in his steady, matter-of-fact voice. + +"Are you _worried_ about it?" She turned and looked across the room. +"Why should you be? If Absalom has chosen to leave, I really don't see +why he shouldn't be allowed to go in peace." + +"I don't know that he did _choose_ to leave; that is just the point." + +He was longing to ask her another question about Heath, and yet he did +not like to press her. + +"Here are some callers," she remarked, and then, with a short laugh, "I +wonder if they were out and about that evening. If you go on like this, +Mr. Hartley, you will make yourself the most popular man in Mangadone. +Take my advice and let Absalom come back in his own way. Perhaps he is +looking for my bowl." She turned her head and glanced at some cards that +the bearer had brought in on a tray. "Show the ladies in, Gulab." + +In a few minutes the room was full of voices and laughter, and Mrs. +Wilder became unconscious of Hartley. She remained so unconscious of him +that he felt uncomfortable and began to wonder if he had offended her in +any way. He looked at her from time to time, and when he got up to go +she gave him her hand as though she was only just sure that he was +really there. + +The disappearance of Absalom was taking strange shapes in his mind, and +he had so far come to the conclusion that Heath knew something about +Absalom, and his visit to Mrs. Wilder added the puzzling fact to his +mental arithmetic that Mrs. Wilder knew something about Heath. It was +one thing to corner Heath, but Heath standing behind Mrs. Wilder's +protection, became formidable. + +Yet it was not in the Cantonment that Hartley expected to find any clue +to the vanished Absalom: it was down in the native quarter. Down there +where the Chinese eating-houses were beginning to fill, and where the +night life was only just awaking from its slumber of the day, was where +Absalom, the Christian boy, had last been seen, and it was there, if +anywhere, that he must be searched for and found. + +What possible connection could there be between an upright, Godly man +who went his austere way along the high, cold path of duty, and a woman +whose husband was madly grasping at the biggest prize of his profession? +What link could bind life with life, when lives were divided by such +yawning gulfs of space and class and race? To connect Mrs. Wilder with +Heath was almost as mad a piece of folly as to connect Absalom with the +clergyman, and yet, Hartley argued, he had not set out to do it. +Something that had not begun with any act or question of his had brought +about the junction of the ideas, and he felt like a man in a dark room +trying to make his way to the window, and meeting with unrecognizable +obstacles. + +The small tinkle of the church bell attracted his attention, and, +following a sudden whim, he went into the tin building and sat down near +the door. Mr. Heath did not look down the sparsely-filled church as he +read the evening service, and he prayed with an almost violent fervour. +Certainly to-night the Rev. Francis Heath was praying as though he was +alone, and the odd imploring misery of his voice struck Hartley.--"To +perceive and know the things that we ought to do, and to have grace and +power faithfully to fulfil the same." + +Heath's voice had broken into a kind of sob, the sound that tells of +strain and hysteria, but what was there in Mangadone to make a +respectable parson strained and hysterical? + + + + +V + +CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, FINDS THAT HIS MEMORY IS NOT TO BE TRUSTED + + +Just as Draycott Wilder stood high in the eyes of the Powers that govern +the Civil Service of India, so, too, in his own way, was Craven Joicey, +the Banker, a man with a solid reputation. If you build a reputation +solidly for the first half of a lifetime, it will last the latter half +without much attention or care, and, contrariwise, a bad beginning is +frequently stronger than any reformation, and stronger than integrity +that comes too late. + +Joicey had begun well, and had, as the saying goes, "made his way." He +was a large, heavy man, representative in figure and slow and careful of +speech. He kept the secrets of his bank, and he kept his own secrets, if +he had any, and was a walking tomb for confidences not known as +"tender." No one would have attempted to tell him their affairs of the +heart, but almost anyone with money to invest would go direct to Craven +Joicey. He had no wife, no child, and, as far as anyone knew, no kith or +kin, and he had no intimate friends. He had one of those strange, shut +faces; a mouth that told nothing, eyes that were nearly as +expressionless as the eyes of Mhtoon Pah, and he had no restless +movements. A plethoric man, Joicey, a man who got up and sat down +heavily, a man who looked at his business and not beyond it, and never +troubled Society. He probably knew that Heath lived in Mangadone, that +was if Heath banked with him; otherwise, he might easily not have known +it. + +He knew of the Wilders. He knew what Draycott Wilder owned, and he knew +that Mrs. Wilder had a very small allowance of her own, paid quarterly +through a Devonshire bank, but more than this he neither knew nor wished +to know of them, and he never went to their house. + +Joicey had not "worn well"; there was no denying that sweating years of +Burmese rains and hot weathers had made him prematurely old. His thick +hair was patched with white, and his face was flabby and yellow. Craven +Joicey was one of those men, who, if he had died suddenly, would have +made people remember that they always thought him unhealthy-looking. +There was nothing, romantic, exciting, or interesting about him; his +mind was a huge pass-book, and his brain a network of facts and figures. +He played no games, went only seldom to the Club, and knew no one in the +place better than he knew Hartley, which was little, but at any rate +Hartley dined once or twice in the year with him, and he occasionally +dined in return with the Head of the Police. + +Hartley was so occupied with his trouble of mind on the subject of +Absalom that he very nearly forgot that he had invited Joicey to dinner +the following Saturday. The police had discovered nothing whatever, and +he had received another visit at his house from the curio dealer. Mhtoon +Pah, in a condition bordering upon frenzy, stated that when he had stood +on his steps in the morning, intending to go to the Pagoda to offer alms +to the priests, he had noticed his wooden effigy and gone down to look +closer at him. The yellow man pointed as was his wont, but over the +pointing hand lay a rag soaked in blood. + +Mhtoon Pah, immense and splendid in his silk, had given forth wild +noises as he produced the rag, noises that reminded Hartley irresistibly +of the trumpeting of elephants, but they were terrible to hear. + +"It is enough," he said, his face quivering. "This is the work of the +Chinamen. They slit his veins, _Thakin_, they are doing it slowly. The +_Thakin_ can understand that Absalom still lives, his blood is fresh and +red, it is not dead blood that runs like treacle, it is living blood +that spouts out hot, and that steams and smokes. _Thakin_, _Thakin_, I +cry for vengeance." + +"I'm doing all I can, Mhtoon Pah," said Hartley, desperately. "I can't +go and arrest Leh Shin on suspicion, because there isn't a vestige of +suspicion attached to the man." + +"Not after this?" Mhtoon Pah pointed to the rag that lay loathsomely on +the table. + +"That may be goat's blood, or dog's blood; we can't say it is +Absalom's," objected Hartley. "Leave the horrid thing there, Mhtoon Pah, +and I will have it analysed later on." + +Mhtoon Pah gasped and beat his breast. + +"He was a good boy, he attended the Mission with regularity, and they +are doing terrible things. They wind wires around the finger-nails and +the toe-nails until they turn black and drop off. You do not know these +Chinamen, _Thakin_, as I know them. Have you seen the assistant of Leh +Shin?" + +Hartley wished that he had not; he frequently wished that he had never +seen that man. + +Mhtoon Pah bent near the Head of the Police and spoke in low, sibilant +tones: + +"He is a butcher's mate, _Thakin_. He is a slayer of flesh. He kills in +the shambles. Oh, it is true. I saw him slit the mouth of a dog with his +knife for his own mirth--" + +"Swine!" said Hartley. + +"Why he left there and went to live with Leh Shin is unknown. He has +secrets. He knows the best mixtures of opium, he knows--" + +"I don't want to hear what he knows." + +"He knows where Absalom is." + +"You only think that," said Hartley, roughly. "It is a dangerous thing +to make these assertions. It is only your idea, Mhtoon Pah." + +The Burman groaned aloud and held the rag between his hands. + +"Put that down," said Hartley. Mhtoon Pah's very agony of desire to find +the boy was almost disgusting, and he turned away from the sight. "There +is no use your staying here, and no use your coming, unless there is +more of this devil's work," he pointed to the blood-stained cloth. +"Leave the thing here, and I will see what the doctors have to say +about it." + +"_Thakin_, _Thakin_," said Mhtoon Pah. "The time grows late. My night's +rest is taken from me, and the Chinaman, Leh Shin, walks the roads. I +saw him from my place at sunset. I saw him go by like a cat that prowls +when night falls and it grows dark. He passed by my wooden image of a +dancing man, and he touched him as he passed--" he gave a despairing +gesture with his heavy hands. "Oh, Absalom, Absalom, my grief is heavy!" + +"He will be either found or accounted for," said Hartley, with a +decision and firmness he was far from feeling, and Mhtoon Pah, with bent +head, went away out of the room. + +The rain that had held off all day began to come down in pitiless +torrents, blown in by the wind, and fighting against bolts and bars. It +ruffled the muddy waters of the river, ran along the kennels of the +Chinese quarter, drove the inhabitants of Paradise Street indoors and +soused down over the Cantonment gardens, and battered on the travelling +carriage of Craven Joicey, that came along the road, a waterproof over +the pony's back and another covering the _syce_, and Joicey sat inside +the small green box, holding the window-strings under his heavy arms. + +Joicey was not a cheerful companion, and in his present mood Fitzgibbon, +the Barrister, would have suited Hartley better; but he had asked +Joicey, and Joicey was on his way, thinking about Bank business in all +probability, thinking of money lent out at interest, thinking of careful +ledgers and neat rows of figures, and certainly not in the least likely +to be thinking of the Chinese quarter, or of a person of so small +account, financially, as Absalom, the Christian native. The river or the +ships or the back lanes of Mangadone might swallow a thousand Absaloms +and make no difference to the Bank, and therefore none to Craven Joicey. + +Absalom, that shadow of the night, had gone to heaven or hell, and left +no bills behind, and it is by bills that some men's memories are +recorded. He was only another grain of red dust blown about by the wind +of Fate, and though the Rector of St. Jude's might consider that, having +been marked by the sign of the Cross, he was in some way different from +the rest, neither Craven Joicey nor Clarice Wilder could be expected to +take very much heed of the fact. + +All stories of disappearance, from time immemorial, have held interest, +and everyone has known of some case which has never been explained or +accounted for. Someone who got into a cab and never appeared again, and +left the impression that he had driven over the edge of the world into +space, for the cab, the cab driver, the horse, the vehicle and the +passenger inside were lost from that moment; someone who went for a +bicycle ride in England, and was found later selling old clothes in +Chicago; someone who went away by train, someone who went away by boat; +the world is full of instances, and they are always tinged with the +greatest mystery of all mysteries, because they foreshadow the ultimate +mystery that awaits the soul of man. For this universal reason, it +might be concluded that Joicey might listen with attention to the story +of Absalom, though his lowly station and his total lack of the most +necessary form of balance, very naturally made him merely a black cypher +of no special account in the eyes of a man of figures. + +Certainly Craven Joicey had not worn well. Hartley noticed it as he +stood taking off his scarf in the hall, and he noticed it again as the +Banker sat sipping a sherry and bitters under the strong light of the +electric lamp. He looked fagged and tired, and though he cheered up a +little as dinner went through, he relapsed into a heavy, silent mood +again, as if he was dragged at by thoughts that had power over him. + +"There is nothing the matter with you, is there, Joicey?" asked his +host. "You don't seem to be up to the mark." + +"What mark?" said Joicey, with a laugh. "Up to your mark, Hartley, or my +own mark, or someone else's mark? The average mark in Mangadone is low +water. There have been a lot of defaulters this year, and even admitting +that the place is rich, there is a good deal more insolvency about than +I like or than the directors care for. It keeps me grinding and +grinding, and wears the nerves." + +"By George," said Hartley, "I should have said that my own job was about +the most nerve-tattering of any. I had an interview with Mhtoon Pah this +afternoon that shook me up a bit." + +"Ah, I heard that his boy has disappeared." + +The door between the dining-and the drawing-room was thrown open, and +dinner announced as Joicey spoke, and the conversation took another +turn. Many things were bothering Joicey--the financial year generally, a +big commercial failure, the outlook for the rice crop--and as the meal +wore on he grew more dreary, and a pessimism that is part of some men's +minds tinged everything he touched. + +"Did Rydal's disappearance affect you at all, personally?" Hartley +asked, with some show of interest. + +"Not personally, but it cost the Bank close upon a quarter of a lakh." +Joicey drummed his square-topped fingers on the table. "I can't imagine +how he managed to get away." + +Hartley frowned. + +"I had all the landing-stages carefully watched, and the plague police +warned. He must have gone before the warrant was out, that is, if he has +ever left the country at all." + +Joicey shrugged his heavy shoulders. + +"In any case, the man's not much use to us, and the money has gone. I'm +not altogether sorry he got away." His eyes grew full of brooding +shadows and he sat silent, still tapping the cloth with his fingers. + +"It's an odd coincidence," said Hartley, and his face grew keen again. +"Mhtoon Pah's boy, Absalom, disappeared that same night. I wish you +could tell me, Joicey, if you saw Heath that evening when you went down +Paradise Street. It was the same evening that the Bank laid their +information against Rydal, the twenty-ninth." + +Joicey had just poured himself out a glass of port, and was raising it +to his lips as Hartley spoke, and the hand that held the glass jerked +slightly, splashing a little of the wine on to the front of his white +shirt. Joicey did not set the glass back on to the table, he held it +between him and the light, and eyed it, or, rather, it should be said +that he watched his own hand, and when he saw that it was quite steady +he set down the wine untasted. + +"Paradise Street? I never go down there. I wasn't in Mangadone that +night," his face was dead white with a sick, leprous whiteness. "If +Heath said he saw me, Heath was wrong." + +"Heath didn't say so," said Hartley. "It was the policeman on duty at +the corner who said that he had seen you." + +"I tell you I wasn't in the place," said Joicey again. + +Hartley coughed awkwardly. + +"Well, if you weren't there, you weren't there," he said, pacifically. + +"And Heath, what did Heath say?" + +"I told you he said nothing, except that he had seen Absalom. I can't +understand this business, Joicey; directly I ask the smallest question +about that infernal night of July the twenty-ninth I am always met in +just the same way." + +"I know nothing about it," said Joicey, shortly. "I wasn't here and I +don't know what Heath was doing, so there's no use asking me questions +about him." + +The Banker relapsed into his former dull apathy, and leaned back in his +chair. + +"I've had insomnia lately," he said, after a perceptible pause. "It +plays the deuce with one's nerves. I believe I need a change. This +cursed country gets into one's bones if one stays out too long. I've +forgotten what England looks like and I've got over the desire to go +back there, and so I rot through the rains and the steam and the tepid +cold weather, and it isn't doing me any good at all." + +They walked into the drawing-room, Hartley with his hand on Joicey's +shoulder. The Banker sat for a little time making a visible effort to +talk easily, but long before his usual hour for leaving he pulled out +his watch and looked at it. + +"It may seem rude to clear off so soon, but I'm tired, Hartley, and +shall be much obliged if I may shout for my carriage." + +He looked tired enough to make any excuse of exhaustion or ill-health +quite a valid one, and Hartley was concerned for his friend. + +"Don't overdo it, Joicey," he said. + +"Overdo what?" + +Joicey got up with the heavy lift of an old, weary man, and yet there +was not two years between him and Hartley. + +"The insomnia," said Hartley. + +"Good night," replied Joicey shortly, and closed the carriage-door +behind him. + +He drove along the dark roads, his arms in the window-straps and his +head bent forward. The head of the Mangadone Banking Firm was suffering, +if not from insomnia, from something that was heavier than the heaviest +night of sleeplessness, and something that was darker than the dark +road, and something that was deep as the brown waters that carried +outgoing craft to sea. + + + + +VI + +TELLS HOW ATKINS EXPLAINS FACTS BY PEOPLE AND NOT PEOPLE BY FACTS, AND +HOW HARTLEY, HEAD OF THE POLICE, SMELLS THE SCENT OF APPLE ORCHARDS +GROWING IN A FOOL'S PARADISE + + +Social life went its way in Mangadone much as it had before the 29th of +July, but Hartley was not allowed to rest and feel comfortable and easy +for very long. Mhtoon Pah waylaid him in the dark when he was riding +home from the Club, and waited for him for hours in his bungalow. Like +his own shadow, Mhtoon Pah followed him and dogged his comings and +goings, always with the same imploring tale, but never with any further +evidence. Leh Shin was officially watched, and Leh Shin's assistant was +also under the paternal eye of authority, but all that authority could +discover about him was that he led a gay life, gambled and drugged +himself, hung about evil houses, and had been seen loitering in the +vicinity of the curio shop; but, as Paradise Street was an open +thoroughfare, he had as much right to be there as any leprous beggar. + +Hartley's peace of mind was soon shattered again, this time by a new +element that Hartley had not thought of, and so he was caught in another +net without any previous warning. + +Atkins, the rector of St. Jude's bungalow companion, was a dry little +man, adhering to simple facts, and neither a sensationalist nor an +alarmist; therefore his words had weight. He was a small man, always +dressed in clothes a little too small, with his whole mind given up to +the subject of his profession; besides which he was religious, a +non-smoker, a teetotaller, and particular upon these points. + +Being but little in the habit of going into Mangadone society, he seldom +met Hartley except at the Club, and it was there that he ran him into a +corner and asked for a word or two in private. Hartley took him out into +the dim green space where basket chairs were set at intervals, and +drawing two well away from the others, sat down to listen. + +Sweet scents were wafted up on the evening air, and drowsy, dark clouds +followed the moonlike heavy wisps of black cotton-wool, drowning the +light from time to time and then clearing off again; and all over the +grass, glimmering groups of men in white clothes and women in trailing +skirts filled the air with an indistinct murmur of sound. + +"It is understood at the outset," began Atkins, clearing his throat with +a crowing sound, "that what I have to say is said strictly in a private +and confidential sense. I only say it because I am driven to do so." + +Hartley's basket chair squeaked as he moved, but he said nothing, and +Atkins dropped his voice into an intimate tone and went on: + +"You came to see Heath one day lately, and I told you he was ill. Well, +so he was, but there are illnesses of the mind as well as of the body, +and Heath was mind-sick. I am a light sleeper, Hartley. I wake at a +sound, and twice lately I have been awakened by sounds." + +"The _Durwan_," suggested Hartley. + +"Not the _Durwan_. If it had been, I would not have spoken to you about +it. Heath has been visited towards morning by a man, and it was the +sound of voices that awoke me. It is no business of mine to pry or to +talk, and I would say nothing if it were not that I admire and respect +Heath, and I believe that he is in some horrible difficulty, out of +which he either will not, or cannot, extricate himself." + +"Who was the man?" + +Atkins ignored the question. + +"I admit that I listened, but I overheard almost nothing, except just +the confused sounds of talking in low voices, but I heard Heath say, 'I +will not endure it, I am bearing too much already.' I think he spoke +more to himself than to the man in his room, but it was a ghastly thing +to hear, as he said it." + +"Go on," said Hartley. "Tell me exactly what happened." + +"I heard the door on to the back veranda open, and I heard the sound of +feet go along it--bare feet, mind you, Hartley--and then I went to +sleep. That was a week ago." + +"And something of the same nature has occurred since?" + +Atkins dried his hands with his handkerchief. + +"I said something to Heath at breakfast about having had a bad night, +and he got up at once and left the table. After that nothing happened +until last night. I had been out all day, and came home dog-tired. I +turned in early and left Heath reading a theological book in the +veranda. I said, I remember, 'I'm absolutely beat, Padré; I have had +enough to-day to give me nine or ten hours without stirring,' and he +looked up and said, 'Don't complain of that, Atkins; there are worse +things than sound sleep.' It struck me then that he hadn't known what it +was for weeks, he looked so gaunt and thin, and I thought again of that +other night that we had neither of us spoken about." + +"Heath never explained anything?" + +"No, I never asked him to." + +"What happened then?" Hartley's voice was hardly above a whisper, and he +leaned close to Atkins to listen. + +"I slept for hours, fairly hogged it until it must have been two or +three in the morning, judging by the light, and then I awoke suddenly, +the way one wakes when there is some noise that is different to usual +noises, and after a moment or two I heard the sound of voices, and I got +out of bed and went very quietly into the veranda. Heath's lamp was +burning, his room is at the far end from mine, and I stood there, +shivering like a leaf out of sheer jumps. I had a regular 'night attack' +feeling over me. I heard a chair pushed back, and I heard Heath say in a +low voice 'If you come here again, or if you dog me again, I'll hand you +over to the police,' and the man laughed. I can't describe his laugh; +it was the most damnable thing I ever listened to, and I thought of +running in, but something stopped me, God knows why. 'Take your pay,' +said Heath; I heard him say it, and then I heard the door open again, +and the same sound of feet." He shivered. "They stopped outside my room, +and I caught the outline of a head, a huge head and enormous, heavy +shoulders, and then he was gone." + +"Why the devil didn't you raise the alarm?" Hartley's voice was angry. +"You've got a policeman on the road. Why didn't you shout?" + +"Because I was thinking of Heath," said Atkins a little stiffly. "He is +the man we have both got to think about. Some devil of a native is +blackmailing him, and Heath is one of the best and straightest men I +know. Not one item of all this mystery goes against him in my mind, but +what I want you to do, is to have the bungalow watched." + +"I shall certainly do that," said Hartley with decision. "And as for +your opinion of Heath--well, it strikes me as curious that a man of good +character should be a mark for blackmail." + +"I explain facts by people, not people by facts," said Atkins hotly. +"And I have told you--" + +"I think it is only fair to say that you have told me something that +lays Heath under suspicion," said Hartley, slowly. "He behaved very +oddly, lately, when I asked him a simple question, and he chose to +refuse to see me when I went to his house. All that was a small matter, +but what you tell me now is serious." + +"Serious for Heath, and for that very reason I particularly want him +protected. But as for suspicion, I know the man thoroughly, and that is +quite absurd." Atkins got up and terminated the interview. "It is absurd +to talk of suspicion," he said again, irritably. "I hope you will drop +that attitude, Hartley. If I had imagined for a moment that you were +likely to adopt it, I should have kept my mouth shut." + +He went away, his narrow shoulders humped, and his whole figure +testifying to his annoyance, and Hartley sat alone, watching the +moonlight and thinking his own thoughts. He was interrupted by a woman's +voice, and Mrs. Wilder sat down in the chair left vacant by Atkins. + +"What are you pondering about, Mr. Hartley? Are you seeing ghosts or +moon spirits? You certainly give the idea that you are immensely +preoccupied." + +"Do I?" Hartley laughed awkwardly. "Well, as a matter of fact, I was not +thinking of anything very pleasant." + +"Can I help?"--her voice was very soft and alluring. + +"No one can, I am afraid." + +She touched his arm with a little intimate gesture, and her eyes shone +in the moonlight. + +"How can you say that? If I were in any sort of fix, or in any sort of +trouble, I would ask you to advise me, and to tell me what to do, before +I would go to anyone else, even Draycott, and why should you leave me +outside your worries?" + +"You see, that's just it, they aren't exactly mine. If they were I +would tell you, but I can't tell you, because what I was thinking about +was connected entirely with someone else." + +Mrs. Wilder's eyes narrowed, and she lifted her slightly pointed nose a +very little. + +"Ah, now you make me inquisitive, and that is most unfair of you. Don't +tell me anything, Mr. Hartley, except just the name of the person +concerned. I'm very safe, as you know. Could you tell me the name, or +would it be wrong of you?" + +"The name won't convey very much to you," said Hartley, laughing. "I was +thinking of the Padré, Heath. That doesn't give you much clue, does it?" + +It was too dark for him to see a look that sprang into Mrs. Wilder's +eyes, or perhaps Hartley might have found a considerable disparity +between her look and her light words. + +"Poor Mr. Heath, he is one of those terribly serious, conscientious +people, who go about life making themselves wretched for the good of +their souls. He ought to have lived in the Middle Ages. I won't ask you +_why_ you are thinking about him"--she got up and lingered a little, and +Hartley rose also--"but you know that you should not think of anyone +unless you want to make others think of them, too; it isn't at all safe. +I shall have to think of Mr. Heath all the way home, and he is _such_ a +gaunt, scraggy kind of thought." + +"I wish I could replace him with myself," said Hartley, in a burst of +admiration. + +Mrs. Wilder accepted his compliment graciously and walked across the +grass to the drive, where her car panted almost noiselessly, as is the +way of good cars, and he put her in with the manner of a jeweller +putting a precious diamond pendant into a case. He watched the car +disappear, and considered that some men are undeservedly lucky in this +life. + +Hartley was nearly forty, that dangerously sentimental age, and he began +to wonder if, by chance, he had met Clarice Wilder years ago in a +Devonshire orchard, life might not have been a wonderful thing. He +called her a "sweet woman" in his mind, and it was almost a pity that +Mrs. Wilder did not know, because her sense of humour was subtle and +acute, and she would have thoroughly enjoyed the description of herself. +She could read Hartley as quickly as she could read the telegrams in the +_Mangadone Times_, and she could play upon him as she played upon her +own grand piano. + +She had not asked any questions, and she knew nothing of what Atkins had +said about Heath; but her face was set and tense as she drove towards +her bungalow. She was certainly thinking very definitely, quite as +definitely as Hartley had been thinking as he watched the moonlight +playing hide-and-seek with the shadows of the palm branches and the +darkness of the trees, and her thoughts left no pleasant look upon her +face or in her eyes; and yet Hartley, on his way to the bungalow where +he lived, was thinking of her in a white dress and a shady hat, with a +fleecy blue and white sky overhead and the scent of apple-blossom in the +air. + +The power of romance is strong in adolescence, but it is stronger still +when the turnstile of years is reached and there is finality in the air. +Hartley was built for platonics; Fate gave him the necessary touch of +the commonplace that dispels romance and replaces it with a kind of +deadly domesticity; and yet Hartley was unaware of the fact. + +He had never thought of being "in love" with Mrs. Wilder, partly because +he felt it would be "no use," and partly because she had never seemed to +expect it from him, but as he walked along the road he began to find +that her manner had of late altered considerably. She seemed to take an +interest in him, and though she had always been his friend, her new +attitude was charged with invisible electricity. + +So far as Mrs. Wilder was concerned, Hartley was to her what a sitting +hen would be to a sporting man. You couldn't shoot the confiding thing; +but you might wring its neck if necessary, or push it out of the way +with an impatient foot. She knew her power over him to a nicety, and she +knew of his secret desire for "situations," because her instinct was +never at fault; but she felt nothing more than contempt, slightly +charged with pity towards him. Hartley was a good-natured, idiotic man, +and Hartley had principles; Clarice Wilder had none herself, though she +felt that they were definite factors in any game, but she also believed +that principles were things that could be got over, or got at, by any +woman who knew enough about life to manage such as Hartley. + +All the same, it was not of Hartley that she thought. She had been quite +truthful when she said that he had suggested Heath to her mind, and +that she would have to consider his gaunt face and hollow cheeks during +her drive. + +If he had sat on the vacant seat beside her, the Rev. Francis Heath +could hardly have been more clearly before her eyes, and could hardly +have drawn her mind more strongly, and it was because of her thought of +him that she preserved her steady look and strange eyes. + +A strong woman, a woman with character, a woman who once she saw her +way, was able to follow it faithfully, wherever it twisted, wherever it +wound, and wherever it eventually brought her. No one could picture her +flinching or turning back along a road she had set out to follow; if it +had run in blood, she would have gone on in bare feet, not picking her +steps, and yet Hartley dreamed of apple orchards and an Eve in a white +muslin dress. + + + + +VII + +FINDS THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH READING GEORGE HERBERT'S POEMS, AND LEAVES +HIM PLEDGED TO A POSSIBLY COMPROMISING SILENCE + + +The Reverend Francis Heath was sitting in his upstairs room, for of late +he had avoided the veranda. It was the leisure hour of the day, the slow +hour when the light wanes and it is too early to call for a lamp; the +hour when memory or fear can both be poignant in tropical climates. + +The house was very still, Atkins had gone to the Club and the servants +had all returned to their own quarters. Outside, noises were many. +Birds, with ugly, tuneless notes that were not songs but cries, flitted +in the trees, and the rumble of traffic on the road came up in the +evening air, broken occasionally by the shrill persistence of an exhaust +whistle or the clamour of a motor-horn, and above all other sounds the +long-drawn, occasional hoot from a ship anchored in the river highway. +There was noise, and to spare, outside, but within everything was still, +except for the chittering of a nest of bats in the eaves, and the +sudden, relaxing creak of bamboo chairs, that behave sometimes as though +ghosts sat restlessly in their arms. + +The sunlight that fell into the garden and caught its green, turning it +into flaming emerald, climbed in at Mr. Heath's window, and lay across +his writing-table; it touched his shoulder and withdrew a little, +touched the lines on his forehead for a moment, touched the open book +before him, and fell away, followed by a shadow that grew deeper as it +passed. It faded out of the garden like a memory that cannot be held +back by human striving. The distances turned into shadowy blue, and from +blue to purple, until only a few flecks of golden light across the +pearl-silver told that it was gone eternally; that its hour was spent, +for good or ill, and that Mangadone had come one evening nearer to the +end of measureless Time; but the Rev. Francis Heath did not regard its +going. His face was sad with a terrible, tragic sadness that is the +sadness of life and not death, and yet it was of death and not of life +that he thought. A little book of George Herbert's poems lay open before +him and he had been reading it with a scholar's love of quaint +phraseology: + + "I made a posy, while the days ran by; + Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie + My life within this band. + But Time did beckon to the flowers, and they, + By noon, most cunningly did steal away, + And wither'd in my hand." + +He read the lines over and over again, and gave a deep, heart-broken +sigh, bending his face between his hands, and bowing his shoulders as +though under a heavy weight. His gaunt frame was thin and spare, his +black alpaca coat hung on it like a sack, and his whole attitude spoke +of sorrow. He might have been the presentment of an unwilling ghost, who +stood with the Ferryman's farthing under his palm, waiting to be taken +across the cheerless, dark waters to a limbo of drifting souls. He took +his hands from before his face and clasped them over the book, looking +out of the window to the evening shadows, as if he tried to find peace +in the very act of contemplation. + +The sad things he came in daily contact with had conquered his faith in +life, though they had not succeeded in killing his trust in God's +eventual plan of redemption; and his mind wandered in terrible places, +places he had forced his way into, places he could never forget. He +suffered from all a reformer's agony, an agony that is the small +reflection of the great story of the mystic burden heavy as the sins of +the whole world, and he tried, out of the simple, childlike fancy of the +words he read, to grasp at a better mind. + +Heath was one of those men who could not understand effortless faith; he +was crushed by his own lack of success, and bowed down by his own +failure. Since he could not rout the enemy single-handed, he believed +that the battle was against the Hosts of the Lord. He knew no leisure +from the war of his own thoughts, and as he clasped his hands, his face +grew tense and set, and his eyes haggard and terrible. For a moment he +sat very still, and his eyes followed the lines written by a man who had +the faith of a little child: + + "But Time did beckon to the flowers, and they, + By noon, most cunningly did steal away." + +Heath had never gathered flowers, either as a lesson to himself or a +gift for others; they hardly spoke of careless beauty to him, they were +emblems of lightness and thoughtlessness, and Heath had no time to stop +and consider the lilies of the field. + +He moved suddenly like a man who is awakened from a thought heavier than +sleep, and listened with a hunted look, the look of a man who is afraid +of footsteps; he stood up, gathering his loose limbs together and +watching the door. Steps came up the staircase, steps that stumbled a +little, and if Heath had possessed Mhtoon Pah's art of reading the walk +of his fellow creatures, he would have known that he might expect a +woman and not a man. + +"Mr. Heath," a low voice called in the passage, and Heath's tension +relaxed, giving place to surprise. + +The voice was strange to him, and he passed his handkerchief over his +face and walked to the door, just as his name was called again, in the +same low, penetrating voice. + +"Who wants me?" he asked, almost roughly, and then he saw a tall, dark +woman standing at the top of the staircase. + +"Mrs. Wilder," he said in surprise, and she made a little imperious +movement with her hand. + +"I did not call your servant, I came up, because I wanted to find you +alone. You are alone?" + +"Certainly, I am alone." + +"May I come in?" + +Heath held the door open for her to pass, and she walked in, looking +around the darkening room with hard, curious eyes. + +She took the chair he gave her, in silence, and sat down near the +writing-table, and, feeling that she would speak after a time, Heath +took his own place again and waited. + +"I hardly know where to begin," she said, always speaking in the same +low, intent voice. "Do you recall the evening of the twenty-ninth?" + +An odd spasm caught Heath's face, and he paused for a moment before he +answered. + +"I do recall it." + +"Perhaps you remember seeing me? I was riding along the road when I +first passed you, and you were walking." + +"I remember that I did pass you then, and also that I saw you later." + +Heath's sombre eyes were on her face, and his fingers touched a gold +cross that hung from his watch-chain. + +"You passed me, and you passed Absalom, the Christian boy, and you have +been questioned about Absalom." + +"I have," he said heavily. "Why do you ask?" + +Mrs. Wilder took a quick breath. + +"Because I am afraid that you may be asked again. You understand, Mr. +Heath, that I know it was the merest chance that brought you there that +evening, but, as you were there, and as Mr. Hartley has got it into his +head that you know something more than you have told him, I beg of you +to bear in mind that if you mention my name you may get me into serious +trouble. You would not do that willingly, I think?" + +"I certainly would not. What motive took you there is a question for +your own conscience. It is not for me to press that question, Mrs. +Wilder." + +She pressed her lips together tightly. + +"I went there to see an old friend who was in great trouble." + +"And yet you have to keep it secret?" + +"Haven't we all our secrets, Mr. Heath?" Her voice was raised a little. +"Will you pledge me your solemn word to keep this knowledge from anyone +who asks?" She put her elbows on the table and drew closer to him. + +"I will respect your confidence," he said slowly. "But is it likely that +Hartley will ask me?" + +Mrs. Wilder made a gesture of denial. + +"I _think_ not, but who can tell? This thing has been like lead on my +mind and will not let me rest. Oh, Mr. Heath, if you knew what I have +already paid, you would be sorry for me." + +"I am sorry," he said gently. "More sorry for you than you can tell. +You, too, saw Absalom, and spoke to him?" + +"He has nothing to do with what I came here about,"--her tone grew +impatient. "I only wanted to make sure that I was safe with you. It was +no little thing that drove me to come. I am a proud woman, Mr. Heath, +and I do not usually ask favours, yet I ask you now--" + +"Not a favour," he said, taking her up quickly. "God knows I have every +reason to help you if I can. Does Hartley suspect you? Does he question +you? Does he try to wring admissions out of you?" + +In the darkness Heath's voice rang hard and, metallic, like the voice of +a man whose thoughts return upon something that maddens him. + +"He has not done so, but he has asked me questions that made me +frightened. It is a terrible thing to be afraid." + +"And Joicey?" said Heath in a quiet voice. "I saw Joicey, but he did not +stop to speak to me. Has he, too, been interrogated?" + +"So far as I know, he has not. But this question presses only on me. +What took you there is, I feel sure, easily accounted for, and what took +Mr. Joicey there is not likely to be a matter of the smallest +importance; it is _I_ who suffer, it is on me that all this weight lies. +If the police begin investigations they come close upon the fact that I +went there to meet a man whom my husband has forbidden me to meet. Any +little turn of evidence that involves me, any little accident that +obliges me to admit it, and I am lost,"--her voice thrilled and pleaded. + +"It is you who are lost," he echoed dully. "I can understand how you +feel. If I can ease your burden or lessen the anxiety you suffer from, +you may depend upon me, Mrs. Wilder. This matter is a dark road where I, +too, walk blind, not knowing the path I follow, but, at least, I can +give you my word that under no circumstances shall I be led to mention +your name. You can be sure of that, Mrs. Wilder. If I can add your +trouble to my own burden I shall not feel its weight, but I would +counsel you to be honest with your husband. Tell him the truth." + +"I will," said Mrs. Wilder, with an acquiescence that came too quickly. +"I assure you that I will, but even when I do, you see what a position +the least publicity places me in?" + +Heath got up and paced the floor with long, restless strides. + +"Publicity. The open avowal of a hidden thing; the knowledge that the +whole world judges and condemns, and does not understand." + +"That is what I feel." + +After all, he was more human than she had expected. Clarice Wilder had +looked upon the Rev. Francis as a hermit, an ascetic, whose +comprehension was limited; and her eyes grew keen as she watched his +gaunt figure. + +"To be dragged down, to be accused, to be cast so low," he continued, in +his sad, heavy voice, "so low that the lowest have cause to deride and +to scorn." He stopped before her. "Is it true that I can save you from +that?" + +"It is true." + +She did not tell him that she had lied to Draycott; it did not appear +necessary; neither did she tell him that Draycott's memory was long and +sure and unerring. + +"Then, if there is one man in all God's universe,"--Heath cast out his +arms as he spoke--"one man above all others whom you could appeal to, +could trust most entirely, that man is myself. Give me your burden, your +distress of mind, and I will take them; I cannot say more--" + +"Of course, it may never be necessary for you to--to avoid telling Mr. +Hartley," broke in Mrs. Wilder quickly. Heath was getting on her nerves, +and she rose to her feet. "I cannot thank you sufficiently, and I fear +that I have upset you, made you feel my own cares too profoundly,"--her +voice grew almost tender. "I have never known such ready sympathy, but +you feel too intensely, Mr. Heath. You make my little trouble your own, +and you have made me very grateful. Are you in any trouble yourself?" + +Heath stopped for a moment, an outline against the light of the window. +She thought he was going to speak, and she waited with an odd feeling of +excitement to hear what was coming, when he suddenly retired back into +his usual manner. + +A light was travelling up the staircase, casting great shadows before +it, and when the boy came to the door of the Padré Sahib's room, he saw +his master saying good-bye to a tall, dark lady who smiled at him and +gave him her hand. + +"Good night, Mr. Heath, I hardly know how to thank you sufficiently." + +She hurried down the staircase, and as she walked out, she met Atkins +coming in on his bicycle. He jumped off as he saw her, and spoke in +surprise. + +"I have just been calling on the Padré," replied Mrs. Wilder pleasantly, +as he commented with ever-ready tactlessness upon her presence in the +Compound. "One of my servants is ill; a member of his community. By the +way, do you think that Mr. Heath is quite well himself?" + +"Indeed I do not think so. He overworks. I have a great admiration for +Heath." + +"He must be rather depressing in the rains," she said, with a careless +laugh. "He positively gave me the shivers. I can hardly envy you boxed +up there with him. I believe he sees ghosts, and I think they must be +horrid ghosts or he couldn't look as he does." + +Her car was waiting down the road, and Atkins walked beside her and saw +her get in. Mrs. Wilder was very charming to him; she leaned out and +smiled at him again. + +"Do take care of the Padré," she called as she drove off. + +"There goes a sensible, good-looking woman," thought Atkins, and he +thought highly of Mrs. Wilder for her visit to Heath. He said so to the +Rector of St. Jude's as they dined together, remarking on the fact that +very few women bothered about sick servants, and he was surprised at the +cold lack of enthusiasm with which Heath accepted his remark. + +"That was what she said?" + +"Yes, and I call it unusual in a country where servants are treated like +machines. I've never known Mrs. Wilder very well, but she is an +interesting woman; don't you think so, Heath?" + +"I don't know," said Heath absently. "I never form definite opinions +about people on a slight knowledge of them." + +Atkins felt snubbed, but he only laughed good-naturedly, and Heath +relapsed into silence. + +Mrs. Wilder was dining out that night, and she looked so superbly +handsome and so defiantly well that everyone remarked upon her; and even +Draycott Wilder, who might have been supposed to be used to her beauty +and her wit, watched her with his slow, following look. Hartley was not +at the dinner-party, but afterwards echoes of its success reached him, +and a description of Mrs. Wilder herself that thrilled his romantic +sense as he listened. + +Hartley was worried about the Padré, and he had warned the policeman to +watch the Compound at night; but all the watching in the world did not +explain the cause of these visits. There was a connection somewhere and +somehow between Heath and the missing Absalom, and Hartley wondered if +he could venture to speak to Mrs. Wilder again about the night of the +29th of July, and implore her to let him know if she had seen Heath with +Absalom. + +It seemed, judging by what Atkins had heard, that Heath was paying for +silence, and Hartley disliked the idea of working up evidence against +the Padré. The more he thought of it the less he liked it, and yet his +duty and his sense of responsibility would not let him rest. Mrs. Wilder +had said that she had seen Heath and Absalom, and had then refused to +say anything more, but Hartley saw in her reserve a suggestion of +further knowledge that could not be ignored or denied. + +Mhtoon Pah was quieter for the moment. He believed that Leh Shin was +being cautiously tracked, and the pointing image had held no further +traces of bloodshed upon his yellow hands. Hartley had grown to loathe +the grinning figure, and to loathe the whole tedious, difficult tragedy +of the lost boy. If it had lain in the native quarter he could have +found interest in the excitement of the chase, but if it ramified into +the Cantonment, Hartley had no mind for it. He was a man first, a +sociable, kindly man, and, later, an officer of the law. + + + + +VIII + +SHOWS HOW THE CLOAK OF DARKNESS OF ONE NIGHT HIDES MANY EMOTIONS, AND +MRS. WILDER IS FRANKLY INQUISITIVE + + +Darkness brooded everywhere, but the gloom of night is a darkness that +is impenetrable only to our eyes because we creatures of the hard glare +of daylight cannot see in the strange clearness that brings out the +stars. Only in the houses of men real darkness has its habitation. Under +close roofs, confined within walls, shut into rooms, and lurking in +corners: there, darkness may be found, and because man made it, it has +its own special terror, as have all the creatures of man's hand. Dark, +menacing and noiseless, the shadows flock in as daylight wanes, filing +up like heavy thoughts and sad thoughts, and casting a gloom with their +coming that is not the blackness of earth's restful night. + +Mrs. Wilder paced her room with the steps of a woman whose heart drives +sleep out with scorpion-whips of memory; and she went softly, for sound +travels far at night, and Draycott Wilder, in the next room, was a light +sleeper. She was thinking steadily, and she was trying to force her will +across the distance into the stronghold of Hartley's inner +consciousness. + +Night brought no more rest to Mrs. Draycott Wilder than it did to Craven +Joicey, the Banker, but Joicey did not sit in the dark. Madness lies in +the dark for some minds, and he had turned on the electric light, that +showed his face yellow and weary. On the wall the lizards, awakened by +the sudden glare, resumed their fly-catching, and scuttled with a dry, +scurrying sound over the walls, breaking the silence with a perpetual +"chuck-chuck" as they chased each other. Joicey looked as though he was +dreaming evil dreams, and nothing of his surroundings was real to him. +The room became another room, the tables and chairs grew indistinct, the +face of a small _Gaudama_ on the mantel-piece became a living face that +menaced him, and the "chuck-chuck" of the lizards, the rattle of dice +falling on to a board at some remote distance miles and miles away, and +yet strangely audible to his dull ears. Still he sat there, and flashes +of fancies came and went. Sometimes he stood in an English garden, with +a far-away sunlit glimpse of glittering waters, and a cuckoo crying in a +wood of waving trees, and then he knew that he was a boy, and that he +had forgotten everything that had happened since; and then, without +warning, he was swept out of the garden and stood under Eastern trees, +lost in a wild place, with the haunting face of the image at his +shoulder. The face altered. Sometimes it was Mhtoon Pah's pointing man, +and what he pointed at was never clear. The mistiness bothered him +horribly. + +The _Durwan_ outside played on a wistful little flute, thinking that his +master was asleep; he heard it, and it did not concern him; he was dead +to all outward things just then, and the flute only added to the mystery +of the dream that spun itself in his brain. He wandered in a place so +near actual things and yet so far from them, that the gigantic mistake +of it all, and the consciousness that the inner life could at times +conquer the outer life, made him fall away between the two conditions, +lost and helpless. His head nodded forward, and his lower lip dropped, +and yet his eyes were open, as he sat facing the small squatting Buddha, +whose changeless face changed only for him. + +The three little flute-notes tripped out after each other with no +semblance at a tune, repeating and reiterating the sound in the dark +outside, and Joicey listened as though something of weight depended upon +his hearing steadily. The sound was the one thing that made him know +that he was real, and once it ceased, or he ceased to hear it, he would +be across the gulf and terribly lost; a mind without a body, let loose +in a world where there were no landmarks, no known roads, nothing but +windy space, and he was afraid of that place, and feared terribly to go +there. + +Something shuffled on the stone veranda, another sound, and sound was of +value to Craven Joicey, since it made a vital note in the circling +numbness around him. He could hear whispering voices, and the thump of +the _Durwan's_ stick, as that musically-minded man walked round to the +back of the house, where his lighted window showed that Craven Joicey +did not sleep. Again a voice whispered, and a low sound of discreet +knocking followed. + +Joicey sprang up and called out hoarsely: + +"Who is it?" + +"Sahib, Sahib"--the _Durwan's_ whine was apologetic. "Is the Sahib +awake?" + +"Who wants me?" + +"Leh Shin, the Chinaman." + +Joicey wiped his face with his handkerchief and pulled open the door +with a violent movement. + +"Come in," he said, trying to speak naturally. "What is it, Leh Shin?" + +The Chinaman held a tweed hat in his hand and stole into the room like a +shadow. + +"What now, Leh Shin?" + +Joicey spoke in Yunnanese with the fluency of long habit, and even +though he was angry he kept his voice low as though he feared to be +overheard. + +"The Master of Masters will speak for me," said the Chinaman, standing +before him. "All day the police stand near to my house, and at night +they do not leave it. At one word from the Master, whose speech is +constructed of gold and precious metals, they can be withdrawn, and for +that word I wait--" He made a quick gesture with his tweed cap. + +"You will gain nothing by coming to my house, you swine," said Joicey, +his eyes staring and his veins standing out on his forehead. "I will see +what Mr. Hartley will do, but if you drag in my name or refer him to me +you will do yourself no good, do you hear? No good." + +Leh Shin watched him passively and waited until he had finished. + +"I will swear the oath," he said, blinking his eyes. "I will not speak +the name of the Master, but my doors are locked, my house is a house for +the water-rats, and until the big Lord frees me I am a poor man." + +Joicey sat down heavily on a low chair. + +"It shall be stopped," he said desperately. "I will see that there is no +more of this police supervision; you may take my word for it." + +The Chinaman stood still, moving one foot to the other. + +"In dreams the Master has spoken these promises to me before. Can I be +sure that it is not in a dream that the Master speaks again?" + +"I am awake," said Joicey, bitterly. "Mr. Hartley is looking for the +boy, and if the boy were found, all search would stop,"--he eyed the +Chinaman carefully, but the mask-like face did not change. + +"And the little boy? Perhaps, Ruler and King, the little boy is gone +dead." + +"You ask me _that_, you devil?" + +"It is for the servant to ask," said Leh Shin, dropping his lids for a +second. + +"Now, get out," said Joicey, between his clenched teeth. "And if you +come here to me again, at night, I'll kill you." + +"The Great One will not do that," said Leh Shin, placidly. "My +assistant waits for me. It would be known as fire is known when the +forest is dry. To-morrow or next day, if the police are gone, my little +house will be open again." He spoke the words with deep emphasis. + +"Get out," said Joicey, turning away his head. + +Leh Shin looked at him with a sudden, oblique glance like the flash of a +knife. + +"Speak no more, Lord of men and elephants; the _Durwan_ is now outside +the door, and he listens." + +"Good-night," said Joicey loudly, and he clicked off the light and went +to bed. + +If the darkness was close in the large houses of the Cantonment, it was +shut into the very essence of itself in the curio shop in Paradise +Street. It hid the carved devils from one another, it obliterated the +stone monsters that no one ever bought, and which had grown to belong to +the shop itself; it dropped its black veil over the green dragons, and +the china ladies, and the silver bowls and the little ivories, hiding +everything out of sight; but it did not hide the figure outside in the +street. The little man, with his pointed headdress and short jacket, had +the clear darkness all to himself. He was just as polite by night as he +was by day, and he bowed and ushered imaginary buyers up the stone steps +with the same perpetual civility, and the same unceasing smile, that +bagged out his varnished cheeks into joviality. + +Dark as it was inside the shop, it must have been darker along the +rat-burrows of stairs, and the loft-like rooms near the roof, but either +up above or down below, the scent of cassia and sandal-wood clung +everywhere inside the curio shop, smelling strongest around the glass +cases and bales of delicate silks. + +Mhtoon Pah's _Durwan_ slept across the doorway, and was therefore the +only object for the attention of the little man, and likewise, +therefore, he did not point to his master, who came in, in the dead, +heavy hours before dawn. He could not have been far; there was hardly +any dust on his red velvet slippers, and he brushed what there was from +them with a careful hand. As he placed his lamp on the floor, the light +threw odd shadows up the walls, turning that of Mhtoon Pah himself into +a grotesque and gigantic mass of darkness, and when he stooped and stood +erect it jumped with a sudden living spring. + +Mhtoon Pah moved about the shop on light feet. He bent here and there to +examine some of the objects closely, with the manner and gesture of a +man who loves beautiful things for their own sakes as well as for the +profit he hoped to gain from their sale. When he had twice made a tour +of inspection, he placed an alabaster Buddha in the centre of a carved +table and sat down before it. The Buddha was dead white, with a red +chain around his neck, and on his head a gold cap with long, gem-set +ears hanging to the shoulders, and Mhtoon Pah sat long in front of the +figure, swaying a little and moving his lips soundlessly. He appeared +like a man who is self-mesmerized by the flame of a candle, and his face +worked with suppressed and violent emotion; at any moment it seemed as +though he might break the silence with some awful, passion-tossed +sound. + +Suddenly, he stopped in his voiceless worship, and, leaning forward +quickly, extinguished the lamp. If he had heard any sound, it was +apparently from below, for he crouched on the ground with his head close +to the teak boarding, and crawled with slow, noiseless care towards the +door. A silk curtain covered the window, hiding the interior of the shop +from the street, and, when he reached the low woodwork above which it +hung, he twitched the curtain back with a sudden movement of his hand +and raised himself slowly until his head was on a level with the glass. + +Mhtoon Pah grew suddenly rigid, and the thick black hair on his head +seemed to bristle. Pressed close against the window, with only a slender +barrier of glass between them, was the face of Leh Shin, the Chinaman. A +ray of white moonlight fell across them both, and its clear radiance +lighted up every feature of the curio dealer's face, changing its brown +into a strange, ghastly pallor. For a moment they stood immovable, +staring into each other's eyes, and the shadows behind Mhtoon Pah in the +shop, and the shadows behind Leh Shin in the street, seemed to listen +and wait with them, seemed to creep closer and enfold them, seemed to +draw up and up on noiseless feet and hang suspended around them. The +moment might have endured for years, so full was it of menace and +passion, and then the man outside moved quickly and the moonlight +flooded in across the face and shoulders of the Burman. + +For a second longer he remained as though fascinated, and then Mhtoon +Pah wrenched at the door and thundered back the heavy bolts. There were +flecks of foam on his lips, and his eyes rolled as he dashed through the +door and out down the steps, rending the air with cries of murder. He +was too late, the Chinaman had gone. When the street flocked out to see +what the disturbance meant, Mhtoon Pah was crouching on his steps in a +kind of fit. + +"I have seen the face of the slayer of Absalom," he shrieked, when the +crowd had carried him in, and recovered him to his senses. + +"Is he a devil?" asked a young Burman, in tones of joyful excitement. "A +devil with iron claws has been seen several nights lately." + +"A Chinese devil," groaned Mhtoon Pah, speaking through his clenched +teeth. "One who shall yet be hanged for his crime." + +"Ah! ah!" said the watchers. "He dreams that it is a man, but it is +known that a devil has walked in Paradise Street, his jaws open. +Certainly he has eaten little Absalom." + +Dawn was breaking, the pale, still hour that is often the hour of death; +and a cool breeze rippled in the date palms and in the flat green leaves +of the rubber plants, and the festoons of succulent green growths that +climbed up the houses of the Cantonments, and dawn found the Rev. +Francis Heath sleeping quietly. He was lying with one arm under his +head, and his worn face in almost child-like repose. Wherever he was, +sleep had carried him to a place of peace and refreshment. When he awoke +he would have forgotten his dream, but for the moment the dream +sufficed, and he rested in the circle of its charm. + +All the time that we are young and careless and happy, we are building +retreats for memory that make harbours of rest in later years, when the +storms come with force. All the old things that did not count, come back +to calm and to restore. The school-room, where the light flickered on a +special corner of the ceiling, telling the children to come out and +play; the tapping of the laurels outside the church windows, and the +musty smell of red rep cushions along the pew where the hours were very +slow in passing; the white clover in the field behind the garden, got at +easily through a hole in the privet hedge. The play of light and shadow +over the hills of home, the dusk at nightfall, and the homely cawing of +rooks. All the delicious things that went with the smell of ripe +strawberries under nets, where thieving birds fluttered until the +gardener let them free again; and the mystery of sparks flying up the +chimney when the winter logs blazed. Every simple joy is stored away in +some lumber corner of the minds of men, and when sleep comes, sometimes +the old things are taken out again. + +The Rev. Francis Heath, like the rest of the world, had his own secret +doorway that led back to wonderland, and it may have been that he was +far away from Mangadone in this child-world which is so hard to find +again, as he slept, and the outside world grew from grey to green, and +from green to misty gold. The sunlight flamed on the spire of the +Pagoda, it danced up the brown river and threw long shadows before its +coming, those translucent shadows that no artist has ever yet been able +to paint. It turned the mohur trees blood-red, and the grass to shining +emerald green, and Mangadone looked as though it had just come fresh +from the hands of its Creator. + +Mhtoon Pah, recovered from his fit, was in his shop early, and he +himself went out to cleanse the effigy outside with a white duster, and +to set his wares in order. It was a good day for sales, as a liner had +come in and brought with it many rich Americans, and Mhtoon Pah was glad +to sell to such as they. His stock-in-trade was beautiful and +attractive, and in the centre of the table, where the unset stones +glittered and shone on white velvet, there stood a bowl, a gold lacquer +bowl of perfect symmetry and very great beauty. He poised it on his +hands once or twice and examined it carefully. As it was already sold it +was not to remain in the curio shop, but Mhtoon Pah was a careful man, +and he desired that Mrs. Wilder should fetch it herself; besides, he +liked her car to stand outside his shop, and he liked her to come in and +look at his goods. Very few people who came in to look, went away +without having bought several things they did not in the least want. +Mhtoon Pah knew exactly how to lure by influence, and he knew that Mrs. +Wilder could no more turn away from a grey-and-pink shot silk than Eve +could refuse the forbidden fruit. + +He spread out a sea-blue Mandarin's coat, embroidered with peaches, and +small, crafty touches of black here and there, and looked at it with the +loving eye of a connoisseur. His whole shop was a fountain of colour, +and he was not unworthy of it in his silk petticoat. A ray of sunlight +fell in through the door and touched a few threads of gold in the coat +as Mhtoon Pah hung it up to good advantage, and turned to see a customer +come in. It was the Rev. Francis Heath; and Mhtoon Pah's face fell. +"Reverends" were not good buyers, specially when they had not any wives, +and Mr. Heath took no notice of the attractive display as he stood, +black and forbidding, in the centre of the shop. + +"I have come here, Mhtoon Pah, to ask for news of Absalom," he said, +meeting his eyes forcefully. "Where is he?" + +Mhtoon Pah bowed low, as befitted the dignity of his guest, who was, +after all, a _Hypongyi_, even though he wore no yellow robes. + +"It is unknown," he said, in a heavy voice. "The Reverend himself might +know, since the Reverend saw my little Absalom that night." + +"You _must_ have suspicions?" + +Mhtoon Pah's face worked violently. + +"Leh Shin," he whispered. "Look there for what is left." + +Heath retreated before his fury. + +"You yourself sent the boy there." + +"_Wah! Wah!_ I sent him and he did not return." + +"What are you talking about?" said the fresh, gay voice of Mrs. Wilder. +"Where is my lacquer bowl, Mhtoon Pah?" She came in, bright as the +morning outside, and smiled at the Rev. Francis Heath. "So you have got +it for me." + +"I did not get it, Lady Sahib," said Mhtoon Pah. "It came here, how I +know not. I found it outside my shop in the care of the wooden image +when I went to dust his limbs this morning." + +Mrs. Wilder laughed. + +"In that case I shall not have to pay for it. But what do you mean, +Mhtoon Pah?" + +"It is blood money," said Mhtoon Pah, with a wild gasp. "Only one man +knew of the bowl, only one man could have put it there. I shall tell +Hartley Sahib; the _Thakin_ will strike surely and swiftly." + +"He will do nothing of the kind," said Mrs. Wilder, with a quick look at +Heath. "Give me my bowl, Mhtoon Pah; you are letting yourself dream +foolish things. Absalom"--she tapped the polished floor with her +well-shaped foot--"will come back and explain everything himself, and +then--whoever is responsible--will bear the penalty." + +"They have tied his head to his elbows, and set snakes to sting him," +said Mhtoon Pah. "This have they done, and worse things, Lady Sahib." + +Mrs. Wilder shivered. + +"Give me my bowl, you horrible old man. Absalom is blacking boots in a +New York hotel, weeks ago.--Ah! what a coat! Are you buying anything, +Mr. Heath?" + +"I am going to the school," he answered slowly. + +"Then let me drive you there. Send me up the Mandarin's coat, Mhtoon +Pah, and I will haggle another day." + +Heath followed her reluctantly down the steps. He wished she had not +made a point of taking him in her motor, but he felt instinctively sorry +for her, which fact, had she known it, would have surprised and +affronted her. + +"Will you come and dine with us one night?" she asked, looking at him +with her fine eyes; "it would give us great pleasure, and I do not think +you have met my husband." + +"I rarely do dine out," said Heath, staring before him as the car backed +round in the limited space of Paradise Street. + +"Then make this an exception. I won't ask you to a function, just a +quiet little family party." + +"You are very kind." + +He was still abstracted, and hardly seemed to hear her, and, when he got +out and shut the door, she leaned from the window, smiling like weary +royalty. + +"I will write and arrange an evening later on. It is a promise, Mr. +Heath." + +"I will come," he replied, in the same preoccupied voice, as he raised +his battered _topi_. + +"What has he been doing?" she asked herself, in surprise, and again and +again she put the same question to herself, not only that morning, but +often, later on, and with ever-increasing curiosity. + + + + +IX + +MRS. WILDER IS PRESENTED IN A MELTING MOOD, AND DRAYCOTT WILDER IS +FORCED TO RECALL THE LINES COMMENCING "A FOOL THERE WAS" + + +It was a bright morning with a high wind blowing and a breath of +freshness in the air that has a charm to inspire a better outlook upon +life. Everywhere it made itself felt in Mangadone, and like Pippa in the +poem, the wind passed along, leaving everything and everybody a little +better for its coming. It passed through the open veranda of the huge +hospital, and touched the fever patients with its cool breath; it +hurried through the Chinese quarter, blew along Paradise Street, dusting +the gesticulating man, and went on up the river, pretending to make the +brown water change its muddy mind and run backwards instead of forwards. +It paid a little freakish attention to Mrs. Wilder's dark hair, and it +cooled the back of Hartley's neck, as they rode along together, by the +way of a lake. + +They had met quite accidentally, and Hartley, who had been vaguely +wishing for an opportunity to speak to Mrs. Wilder, seized upon it and +offered himself as her escort. She agreed with complimentary readiness, +and they turned along a wooded road, where the shadows were deep and +where Hartley felt the gripping hands of romance loosen his +heart-strings. + +Mrs. Wilder listened to him, or appeared to do so, which is much the +same in effect, and Hartley was not critical. She was a good listener, +as women who have something else to think about often are; and so they +rode along the twisting path, and the wind sang in the plumes of the +bamboo trees, and Hartley believed that it sang a romantic lyric of +platonic admiration, exquisitely hinted at by a tactful man, and +properly appreciated by a very beautiful woman. + +"By the way," she said carelessly, "have you found that wretched little +Absalom yet? What a bother he has been since he took it into his head to +go off to America, or wherever it is he went to." + +"I am glad you mentioned him," said Hartley, his face growing suddenly +serious. "I have a question or two that I want very much to ask you." + +"A question or two? That sounds so very legal. Really, Mr. Hartley, I +believe you credit me with having Absalom's body hanging up in one of my +_almirahs_. Honestly, don't you really believe that I had a hand in +putting him out of the way?" + +She laughed her hard little laugh, and shot a look at him over her +shoulder. + +"You do know something, some little thing it may be, but something that +might help me." + +"About Absalom, or about someone else?" + +"About whoever you saw him with." + +Hartley pushed his pony alongside of hers, but her face revealed +nothing, and was quite expressionless. + +"Whoever I saw him with?" she echoed reflectively. "Ah, but it is so +long ago, Mr. Hartley, I can't even remember now whether I was out or +not that evening." + +"You are only playing with me," said Hartley a little irritably. "The +policeman on duty at the cross-roads below Paradise Street saw you." + +Her face became suddenly so drawn and startled that Hartley regretted +his words almost as he spoke them. + +"Wait a minute, Mr. Hartley," she said, in a strained, hard voice. "You +have to explain to me why you have asked your men questions connected +with me." + +"I did not ask questions; I was told." + +She pulled up her pony, and, turning her head away from him, looked out +silently over the dip of ground below them. Hartley did not break her +silence. He saw that he had come close to some deep emotion, and he +watched her curiously, but Mrs. Wilder, even if she was conscious of his +look, appeared quite indifferent to it. He could form no idea along what +road her silent concentration led her; but he knew that she pursued an +idea that was compelling and strong. He knew enough of her to know that +even her silence was not the silence that arises out of lack of subject +for talk, but that it meant something as definite and clear as though +she spoke direct words to him. + +The Head of the Police would have given much at that moment to have +been able to penetrate her thoughts, but he only stared at her with his +blue eyes a little wider open than usual, and waited for her to speak. +She looked before her steadily, but not with the eyes of a woman who +dreams; Mrs. Wilder was thinking definitely, and while Hartley waited, +her mind travelled at speed across years and came to a halt at the +moment where she now found herself, and from that moment she looked out +forcefully into the future. + +Usually, in the tragic instants of life there is very little time for +thought before the need for action forces the will, with relentless +hands. Clarice Wilder knew as well as she knew anything that her +position was one of some peril, and that much more than she could weigh +or measure at that moment lay beyond the next spoken word. She was +telling herself to be careful, steadying her nerve and reining in a +desire to pour out a flood of circumstantial evidence, calculated to +convince the Head of the Police. + +If there is one thing more than another that the man or the woman driven +against the ropes should avoid, it is prolixity; the snare that catches +craft in its own net. Clarice Wilder desired to be overpowering, +redundant and extreme in the wordy proof of her innocence of purpose +that evening of July the 29th, but she held back and waited steadfastly +until she was quite sure of herself again, and then she turned her head +and glanced at Hartley with a smile. + +"How silent you are," she said gently. + +Hartley flushed and looked self-conscious. + +"To be quite candid, that was what I was thinking of you," he replied +awkwardly. + +"What were we saying?" went on Mrs. Wilder. "Oh, of course, I remember. +You thought I could tell you something about poor Mr. Heath, didn't you? +I only wish I could, but it was so long ago. I do remember the evening. +It was very hot and I rode along by the river to get some fresh air," +her eyes grew hazy. "I can remember thinking that Mangadone looked as if +it was a great ball of amber, with the sun shining through it, but as +for being able to tell you what Mr. Heath was doing, or who he was with, +it is impossible. You should have pinned me down to it the day you +called on me, when this troublesome little boy first went off." She +gathered up the reins, and Hartley mounted reluctantly. "I am so sorry. +I would love to be able to help you, but I cannot remember." + +If Hartley had been asked on oath how it was that Mrs. Wilder had led +him clean away from the subject under discussion, to something +infinitely more satisfying and interesting, he could not have sworn to +it. They loitered by the road and came slowly back to the bungalow, +where they parted at the gate, and he watched her go in, hoping she +might turn her head, but she did not, and Hartley took his way towards +his own house and thought very little of Absalom or the Rev. Francis +Heath. One thing he did think of, and that was that Mrs. Wilder had +looked at him earnestly, and said that she wished he was not "mixed up" +in anything likely to bring uneasiness to the mind of the Rector of St. +Jude's Church. "Mixed up" was a curious way of expressing his connection +with the case, but Hartley felt that he knew what she meant. He pulled +at his short moustache and wished with all his heart that he really did +know; but all the wishes in the world could not help him out of a +professional dilemma. + +Mrs. Wilder had not looked round, though she very well knew that Hartley +was waiting and hoping that she would, and once she had turned the first +bend she touched the pony with her heel and cantered up the hill, +throwing the reins to the _syce_ who came in answer to her impatient +call. + +"Idiot," she said, as she shut the door of her room and flung her _topi_ +on the bed, and she repeated the word several times with increasing +animosity and vigour. She hated Hartley at that moment, and felt under +no further obligation to hide her real feelings; and then Mrs. Wilder +sat down and thought hard. + +The mental power of exaggerating danger is limitless, and she could not +deny that her fear was playing tricks with her nerves. She knew that she +had done creditably under the strain of acute nervous tension, but she +felt also that much more of the same thing would be unendurable. + +Draycott came in to luncheon, and she was there to receive him, but even +to his careless eye, Clarice was oddly abstracted, and he glanced at her +curiously, wondering what it was that occupied her mind and made her +frown as she thought. + +She could not get away from the grip of her morning interview. Try as +she would, she could not shake it off. It caught her back in the middle +of her talk, made her answer at random, and held her with a terrible +power. She considered that there were a thousand other things she might +have said or done, a hundred ways by which she might have appealed to +Hartley, and yet her common sense told her that the less she said on the +subject the better it would be, if, in the end, the Rev. Francis Heath +was led into the awful pitfalls of cross-examination. Anyone may forget +and recall facts later, but to state facts that may be used as evidence +is to stand handcuffed before inexorable justice, and Mrs. Wilder had +left her hands free. + +"Is anything the matter?" Draycott jerked out the question as he got up +to leave the room. "You seem rather silent." + +Clarice laughed, and her laugh was slightly forced. + +"I went for a ride this morning, and met Mr. Hartley. He is the most +exhausting man I ever met." + +"I hope you told him so," said Wilder shortly. "He's about here +frequently enough, even though he _does_ bore you." + +Something in his voice made her eyes focus him very clearly and +distinctly. + +"I have a very good mind to tell him," she said easily, "but he is +blessed with a skin that would turn the edge of any ordinary hatchet; he +would think I was merely being 'funny.'" + +"It's an odd fact," said Draycott with a sneer in his eyes, "that +however much a woman complains of a man's stupidity, she will let him +hang about her, and make a grievance of it, until she sees fit to drop +him. When that moment arrives she can make him let go, and lower away +all right. Just now Hartley is hanging on quite perceptibly, and if it +entertains you to slang him behind his back, I suppose you will slang +him, but he won't drop off before you've done with him, Clarice, if I +know anything of your methods." Her face flushed and she began to look +angry. "Mind you, I don't object to Hartley. As you say, he's a fool, a +silly, trusting ass, the sort of man who is child's-play to a girl of +sixteen. If you must have a string of loafers to prove that your +attractions outwear _anno domini_, I must accept Hartley, and other +Hartleys, so long as you continue to play the same game. _Hartleys_, I +said, Clarice." + +There was no doubt about the emphasis he laid upon the name. + +"You flatter Mr. Hartley considerably," she said, but her voice was +conciliatory and her laugh nervous. + +"He represents a type; a type that some married men may be thankful +continues to exist. God!" he broke out violently, "if he could hear you +talk of him, it would be a lesson to the fool, but he won't hear you. No +man ever does hear these things until the knowledge comes too late to be +of any use to him. You have got to have your strings"--he shrugged his +shoulders--"because your life isn't here, in this house; it is at the +Club, and at dinners and races and so on, and to be left to your +husband is the beginning of the end. Don't deny it, Clarice, it's no +earthly use. Women like you have your own ideas of life, I suppose, and +I ought to be thankful they're no worse." + +He stood by the door all the time he spoke, and his colourless face and +pale eyes never altered. + +"You're talking absolute nonsense," said Mrs. Wilder, preserving an +amiable tone. "We _have_ to entertain, Draycott, and you can't round on +me for what I have done for years. It has helped you on, and you know +it." + +"I wasn't talking of that," he said drearily. "I was talking of you. +You're getting old, for a woman, Clarice, and when you're worried, as +you are to-day, you show it; though how an imbecile like Hartley got at +you to the extent of making you worried, I don't pretend to guess." + +"Old," she said angrily. "You aren't troubling to be particularly +polite." + +"No, I'm damnably truthful; just because it makes me wonder at you all +the more. You can go on smiling at any number of idiots, because you +must have the applause, I suppose. You don't even believe in it--_now_." + +His allusion was definite, and Mrs. Wilder felt about in her mind for +some way to change the conversation. Quagmires are bad ground for +walking, and she was in a hurry to reach _terra firma_ again. She came +round the table and slipped her arm through his. + +"After all these years. Draycott--be a little generous." + +If she had fought him, some deep, hidden anger in his cold heart would +have flared up, but her gesture softened him and he patted her hand. + +"I know," he said slowly. "Only I can't quite forget. I simply can't, +Clarice." + +She smiled at him and touched his face with a light hand. + +"Shall I tell you why? Because even if I am old--and thirty-six isn't so +very dreadful--you are still in love with me." + +She went with him to the door and smiled as he drove away, smiled and +waved as he reappeared round a distant bend, and watched him return her +signal, and then she went back into the large drawing-room and her face +grew grey and pinched, and she sat with her chin propped on her hands, +thinking. + +She had proved that there are more fools in the world than those who go +about disguised as Heads of Police, and had added another specimen to +the general list, but she found no mirth in the idea as she considered +it. + + + + +X + +IN WHICH CRAVEN JOICEY IS OVERCOME BY A SUDDEN INDISPOSITION, AND +HARTLEY, WITHOUT LOOKING FOR HIM, FINDS THE MAN HE WANTED + + +It seemed to Hartley that Fate had dealt very hardly with him. He was +interested in the case of the boy Absalom, and he felt that the +possibility of clearing it up was well within reach, and then he found +himself face to face with an unpleasant and painful duty. + +All his gregarious sociable nature cried out against any act that would +cause a scandal in Mangadone, the magnitude of which he could hardly +gauge but only guess at; and yet, wherever he went, the thought haunted +him. His feelings gave him no rest, and he remained inactive and +listless for several days after his ride with Mrs. Wilder. If she had +told him that she implored him personally to drop the case he could not +have felt more certain that she desired him to do so. She worked +indirectly upon his feelings, a much surer way with some natures than a +direct appeal, and the thought brought something akin to misery into the +mind and heart of the police officer. + +Absalom had gone, leaving no visible footprint to indicate whither he +had vanished, but the inexorable detail of circumstance after +circumstance led on to a very definite conclusion. The wooden figure +outside the curio dealer's shop pointed up his master's steps, and did +no one any wrong, but the awful fixed finger of changeless fact +indicated the creeper-covered bungalow of the Rev. Francis Heath. + +Hartley sat in his room, his elbows on the writing-table, and stared out +before him. A sluicing shower had come up suddenly, obscuring all the +brightness of the day, and the eaves of the veranda dripped mournfully +with a sound like the patter of a thousand tiny feet; the patter sounded +like the falling of tears, and he wondered if Heath, too, listened to +the light persistent noise, and read into it the footsteps of departing +hopes and lost ideals, or merely all the terrible monotonous detail that +preceded an act that was a crime. + +Hartley had dealt considerably with criminal cases, but never with +anything the least like the case of the boy Absalom, and the +speculations that came across his mind were new to him. He realized that +a criminal of the class of the Rev. Francis Heath is a criminal who is +driven slowly, inch by inch, into action, and each inch given only at +the cost of blood and tears. It was little short of ghastly to consider +what Heath must have gone through and suffered, and what he still must +suffer, and must continue to suffer as he went along the dark loneliness +of the awful road into which he had turned. + +People who have pity and to spare for the murdered body, or for the dupe +who has suffered plunder, think very little of the agony of mind and +the horror of the man who has held a good position, secure and honoured, +and who falls into the bottomless abyss of crime and detection. Hartley +had never considered it before. He was on the side of law and order, and +he was incapable of even dimly visualizing any condition of affairs that +could force him into illegal action, and yet he felt in the darkness +after some comprehension of the mind of the Rector of St. Jude's Parish +Church. + +The rain passed over, and the veranda was crossed with strips of yellow +sunlight, the pale washed sunlight of a wet evening, and still the drip +from the eaves fell intermittently with its melancholy noise, so softly +now, as hardly to be heard, and Hartley got up, and, putting on his hat, +walked across the scrunching wet gravel, and out on to the road, making +his way towards the Club. + +Far away, gleams of light lay soft over the trees of the park, the green +sad light that is only seen in damp atmospheres. There was no gladness +in the day, only a sense of deficiency and sorrow, even in its lingering +beauty; and the lake that reflected the trees and the sky was deadly +still, with a brooding, waiting stillness. Hartley stopped as he went +towards the further gates of the park, and watched the glassy +reflections with troubled eyes. No breeze touched the woods into +movement, and the long, yellow bars of evening light were full of dim +stillness. The very lifelessness of it affected Hartley strangely. +Except where, here and there, a flash of the low sunset caught the +water, the whole prospect was motionless, and he stood like a man +spellbound by the mystery of its silence. + +Hartley had chosen the less frequented road through the Park, and there +was no one in sight when he had stopped to look at the pale sheet of +water with its mirrored reproduction of tree and sky. It held him +strangely, and he felt a curious tension of his nerves, as though +something was going to happen. The thought came, as such thoughts do +come, out of nowhere in particular, and yet Hartley waited with a sense +of discomfort. + +When he turned away angry at his own momentary folly, he stooped and +picked up a stone and threw it into the motionless beauty of the water, +breaking it into a quick splash, marring the clearness, and confusing +the straight, low band of gold cloud which broke under the widening +circles. As he stooped, a man had come into sight, walking with a slow, +heavy step, his eyes on the ground and his head bent. He came on with +dragging feet and a dull, mechanical walk, the walk of a man who is +tired in body and soul. He did not look at the lake, nor did he even see +Hartley, who turned towards him at once with sudden relief. + +When Hartley hailed him cheerfully, Joicey stopped dead and looked up, +staring at him as though he were an apparition. He took off his hat and +wiped his forehead. + +"Where did you spring from, Hartley?" he asked. "I did not see anyone +just now." There was more irritation than warmth in his greeting of the +police officer. + +"I was moonstruck by the edge of that confounded lake. It was so still +that it got on my nerves." + +"Nerves," said Joicey abruptly. "There's too much talk of nerves +altogether in these days." + +Joicey, like all large men with loud voices, was able to give an +impression of solidity that is very refreshing and reviving at times, +but, otherwise, Joicey was not looking entirely himself. He passed his +handkerchief over his face again and laughed dully. + +"You're going to the Club, I suppose?" + +"I was going there, but now I'll join you and have a walk, if I may. +It's early for the Club yet." + +He turned and walked on beside the Banker, who appeared, if anything, +less in the humour for conversation than was usual with him. They left +the lake behind them, now a pallid gleam flecked with wavering light in +a circle of deep shadows that reached out from the margin. + +"Any news?" asked Hartley without enthusiasm. + +"Not that I have heard." + +Silence fell again, and they walked out on to the road. Pools of +afternoon rain still lay here and there in the depressions, but Joicey +took no heed of them, and splashed on, staining his white trousers with +liquid mud. + +"By the way," he said, clearing his throat as though his words stuck +there, "have you heard anything more in connection with the +disappearance of that boy you were talking of the other evening?" + +Hartley did not reply for a moment, and just as he was about to speak, +Mrs. Wilder's car passed, and Mrs. Wilder leaned forward to smile at the +Head of the Police; a small buggy followed with some more friends of +Hartley's, and then another car, and the road was clear again. + +"I believe I am on the right track, but I don't like it, Joicey. I'm +damned if I do." + +"Why not?" + +"It comes too close to home,"--Hartley spoke with a jerk. "A hateful +job--I thought I'd tell you--" He spoke in broken sentences, and his +words affected the Banker very perceptibly. + +"Can't you drop it?" + +Joicey came to a standstill, and his voice was lowered almost to a +whisper. + +"I wish to Heaven I could, but it's a question of duty,"--he could +hardly see Joicey's face in the gathering gloom. "I suppose you guess +what I'm driving at, Joicey, though how you guess, I don't know." + +"I think I'll say good night here, Hartley,"--the Banker's voice was +unnatural and wavering. "I can't discuss it with you. It's got to be +proved," he spoke more heatedly. "What have you got? Only the word of a +stinking native. I tell you it's monstrous." He stopped and clutched +Hartley's arm, and seemed as though he was staggering. + +"What has come over you, Joicey; are you ill?" + +"I'll sit down here for a moment,"--Joicey walked towards a low wall. +"Sometimes I get these attacks. I'm better after they are over. Better, +much better. Leave me here to go back by myself, Hartley. You need have +no fear, I'm over it now; I'll rest for a little and then go my way +quickly. Believe me, I'd rather be alone." + +Very reluctantly, Hartley quitted him. He felt that Joicey was ill, and +might even be beginning the horrible phase of "breaking up," which comes +on with such fatal speed in a tropical climate. He went back after he +had gone a mile along the road, but Joicey was no longer there. It was +too late to think of going to the Club, for the road that Joicey and +Hartley had followed led away from the residential quarter of Mangadone, +and he disliked the idea of going back to his own bungalow and waiting +through the dismal hour that lies across the evening between the time to +come in and the time to dress for dinner. + +Had there been a friendly house near, Hartley would have gone in on the +chance of finding someone at home, but as there was not, he made the +best of existing circumstances and took his way along the road towards +his own bungalow. He could not deny that his walk with Joicey had only +served to depress his spirits, and he was sorry to think that his friend +was so obviously in bad health. The world seemed an uncomfortable place, +full of gloomy surprises, and Hartley wished that he had a wife to go +back to. Not a superb being like Mrs. Wilder, who was encircled by the +halo of High Romance, but just an ordinary wife, with a friendly smile +and a way of talking about everyday things while she darned socks. +Somewhere in his domestic heart Hartley considered sock-mending a +beautiful and symbolic act, and yet he could not picture Mrs. Wilder +occupied in such a fashion. + +A man with a wife to go back to is never at the same loose end as a man +who has no need ever to be punctual for a solitary meal, and Hartley +walked quickly because he wanted to get clear of his depression, rather +than for any reason that compelled him to be up to time. + +The gathering darkness drew out the flare over the city, and, here and +there, lamps dotted the road, until, turning up a short cut, he was into +the region of trams once more. The lighted cars, filled with gay Burmese +and soldiers from the British Regiment, and European-clad, dark-skinned +creatures of mixed races, looked cheerful and encouraged to better +thoughts. Hartley crossed the busy thoroughfare below the Pagoda steps +and went on quickly, for he recognized the outline of Mhtoon Pah on his +way to burn amber candles before his newly-erected shrine. He was in no +mood to talk to the curio dealer just then, and he avoided him carefully +and plunged down a tree-bowered road that led to the bridge, and from +the bridge to the hill-rise where his own gate stood open. + +It pleased him to see that lamps were lighted in the house, and he felt +conscious that he was hungry, and would be glad of dinner; he made up +his mind to do himself well and rout the tormenting thoughts that +pursued him, and to-morrow he would see Francis Heath and have the whole +thing put on paper once and for all. He even whistled as he came along +the short drive and under the portico, where a night-scented flower +smelt strong and sweet. His boy met him with the information that there +was a Sahib within waiting. A Sahib who had evidently come to stay, for +a strange-looking servant in the veranda rose and salaamed, and sat down +again by his master's kit with the patience of a man who looks out upon +eternity. + +Hartley hardly glanced at the servant. Visitors, tumbling from anywhere, +were not altogether unusual occurrences. Men on the way back from a +shoot in the jungles of Upper Burma, men who were old school friends and +were doing a leisurely tour to Japan and America, men of his own +profession who had leave to dispose of; all or any of these might arrive +with a servant and a portmanteau. Whoever it was, Hartley was +predisposed to give him a welcome. He had come just when he was wanted, +and he hurried in, a light of pleasure in his blue eyes. + +Near the lamp, a book of verses open on his knee, sat Hartley's +unexpected guest. He was slim, dark, and vital, but where his arresting +note of vitality lay would have been hard to explain. No one can tell +exactly what it is that marks one man as a courageous man, and another +as a coward, and yet, without need of any test, these things may be +known and judged beforehand. The man whose eyes followed the lines: + + "They say the Lion and the Lizard keep + The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep"-- + +was as distinctive as he well could be, and yet his face was not +expressive. His dark, narrow eyes were dull, and his finely-cut features +small and perfect, rather than bold and strong; his long hands were the +hands of a woman more than those of a man, and his figure was slight to +boyishness. + +When Hartley let his full joy express itself in husky, cheery words of +surprise, his visitor said very little, but what he did say was spoken +in a pleasant, low voice. + +"Coryndon," said Hartley again. "Of all men on earth I wanted to see you +most. You've done what you always do, come in the 'nick.'" + +Coryndon smiled, a languid, half-amused gleam of mirth. + +"I am only passing through, my job is finished." + +"But you'll stay for a bit?" + +"You said just now that I was here in the 'nick'; if the nick is +interesting, I'll see." + +"I'll go and arrange about your rooms," said Hartley, and he appeared +twice his normal size beside his guest, as a St. Bernard might look +standing by a greyhound. "We will talk afterwards." + +Coryndon watched him go out without change of expression, and, sliding +back into his chair, took up his book again. + + "They say the Lion and the Lizard keep + The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep." + +Coryndon leaned back and half closed his eyes; the words seemed potent, +as with a spell, and he called up a vision of the forsaken Palace where +wild things lived and where revels were long forgotten--solitude and +ruin that no one ever crossed to explore or to see--with the eyes of a +man who can rebuild a mighty past. Solitude in the halls and marble +stairways, ruin of time in the fretted screens, and broken cisterns +holding nothing but dry earth. Nothing there now but the lion and the +lizard, not even the ghost of a light footfall, or the tinkle of glass +bangles on a rounded arm. + +Coryndon had almost forgotten Hartley when he came back, flushed and +pleased, and full of a host's anxiety about his guest's welfare. + +"I hope you haven't been bored?" + +"No," said Coryndon, touching the book, "I've been amusing myself in my +own way," and he followed Hartley out of the room. + + + + +XI + +SHOWS HOW THE "WHISPER FROM THE DAWN OF LIFE" ENABLES CORYNDON TO TAKE +THE DRIFTING THREADS BETWEEN HIS FINGERS + + +Very probably Hartley believed that he knew "all about" Coryndon; he +knew at least, that the Government of India looked upon him as the best +man they had to unravel the most intricate case that murder or forgery, +coining or fraud of any sort, could tangle into mysterious knots. +Coryndon had intuition and patience, and once he undertook a case he +followed it through to the ultimate conclusion; and so it was that +Coryndon stood alone, a department in himself, possibly aided by the +police and the shadower, but capable of discovering anything, once he +bent his mind to the business of elucidation. + +Beyond the fact that he had been born somewhere in a jungle clearing in +Upper Burma, and that at ten years old he had gone to India to a school +in the Hills, then had vanished for years to reappear in the service of +the Government, his story was not known to anyone except himself. No one +doubted that he had "a touch of the country" in his blood. It displayed +itself in unmistakable physical traits, and his knowledge of its many +tongues and languages was the knowledge that first made him realize +that his future career lay in India. + +Colonel Coryndon, his father, died just as the boy was leaving school, +and left him a little money; just enough to keep him from the iron yoke +of clerkship, and to allow of his waiting for what he wanted. Behind his +dark eyes lived a brain that could concentrate with the grip of a vise +upon any subject that interested him, and he puzzled his masters at his +school. Coryndon was a curious mixture of imagination and strong common +sense; few realize that it is only the imaginative mind that can see +behind the curtain that divides life from life, and discern motives. + +He saw everything with an almost terrible clearness. Every detail of a +room, every line in a face, every shop in a street he walked through, +every man he spoke with, was registered in his indelible book of facts. +This, in itself, is not much. Men can learn the habit of observation as +they can train their minds to remember dates or historical facts, but, +in the case of Coryndon, this art was inherent and his by birth. He +started with it, and his later training of practising his odd capacity +for recalling the smallest detail of every day that passed only +intensified his power in this direction. With this qualification alone +he could have been immensely useful as a secret agent, but in addition +to this he had also his other gift, his intuition and power of altering +his own point of view for that of another man, and seeing his subject +through the eyes of everyone concerned in a question. + +His nervous vitality was great, and there were plenty of well-educated +native subordinates who believed him gifted with occult forces, since +his ways of getting at his astonishing conclusions were never explained +to any living soul, because Coryndon could not have explained them to +himself. + +His identity was well known at Headquarters, but beyond that limit it +was carefully hidden from the lower branches of the executive, as too +wide and too public recognition would have narrowed his sphere of +action. As Wesley declared the whole world to be his parish, so the +whole of Asia was Coryndon's sphere of action, and only at Headquarters +was it ever known where he actually might be found, or what employment +occupied his brain. He came like a rain-cloud blown up soundlessly on +the east wind, and vanished like morning mists, and no one knew what he +had learnt during his silent passing. + +Men with voices like brass trumpets praised and encouraged him, and men +who knew the dark byways of criminal investigation were hardly jealous +of him. Coryndon was a freak, an exception, a man who stood beyond +competition, and was as sure as he was mysterious. He was "explained" in +a dozen ways. His face, to begin with, made disguise easy, and the touch +of the country did much for him in this respect. He had played behind +his father's up-country bungalow with little Burmese boys and talked in +their speech before he knew any English; the Bazaar was an open book to +him, and the mind of the native, so some men said with a shade of +contempt, not too far from his own to make understanding impossible. + +Besides all this, there were those other years, after he left the school +under the high snow ranges, when Coryndon had vanished entirely, and of +these years he never spoke. And yet, with all this, Coryndon was +unmistakably a "Sahib," a man of unusual culture and brilliant ability. +He had complete powers of self-control, and his one passion was his love +of music, and though he never played for anyone else, men who had come +upon him unawares had heard him playing to himself in a way that was as +surprising as everything else about Coryndon surprised and astonished. + +He had dreamed as a boy, and he still dreamed as a man. The subtle +beauty of a line of verse led him into visionary habitations as fair as +any ever disclosed to poet or artist. He could lose himself utterly in +the lights and shadows of a passing day, while he watched for a doomed +man at the entrance of a temple, or brooded over painted sores and cried +to the rich for alms by a dusty roadside; a very different Coryndon to +the Coryndon who looked at Hartley across the white cloth of the round +dinner-table. + +The truth about Coryndon was that he read the souls of men. Mhtoon Pah +had boasted to Hartley that he read the walk of the world he looked at, +but Coryndon went much further; and as Hartley talked about outward +things, whilst the Boy and the _Khitmutghar_ flitted in and out behind +them, carrying plates and dishes, his guest was considering him with a +quiet and almost moonstruck gravity of mind. He knew just how far +Hartley could go, and he knew exactly what blocked him. Hartley was tied +into the close meshes of circumstance; he argued from without and worked +inward, and Coryndon had discovered the flaw in this process before he +left his school. + +When they were alone at last, Hartley pushed his chair closer to +Coryndon and leaned forward. + +"One moment." Coryndon's voice was lowered slightly, and he strolled to +the door. + +"Boy," he called, and with amazing alacrity Hartley's servant appeared. + +"Tell my servant," he said, speaking in English, "that I want the cigar +tin." + +"Do you believe he was listening?" + +"I am sure of it." + +Hartley flushed angrily, and he was about to speak when Coryndon's man +came into the room, salaaming on the threshold, carrying a black tin. + +"Would you like a little stroll in the garden?" said Coryndon. "It would +be pleasant before we sit down," and Hartley followed him out. + +"Did you bring any cigars down?" + +Hartley spoke for the sake of saying something, more than for any +reasonable desire to know whether Coryndon had done so or not, and his +reply was a low, amused laugh. + +"In ten minutes Shiraz will do a little juggling for your servants," he +said placidly. "There are no cigars in the tin. I hope you didn't want +one, Hartley? He will probably tell them that I am a new arrival, +picked up by him at Bombay. Whatever he tells them, they will find him +amusing." + +A misty moonlight lighted the garden with a soft, yellow haze, and the +harsh rattling of night beetles sounded unusually loud and noisy in the +silence. + +"You said that you had just finished a job?" + +"I have, and now I am on leave. The Powers have given me four months, +and I am going to London to hear the Wagner Cycle. I promised myself +that long ago, and unless something very special crops up to prevent me, +I shall start in a week from now." + +They took another silent turn. + +"Did your last job work out?" + +"Yes. It took a long time, but I got back into touch with things I had +begun to forget, and it was interesting. Shall we go back into the +house?" + +"Come in here," said Hartley, taking his way into the sitting-room. "I +have some notes in my safe that I want you to look at. The truth is, +Coryndon, I'm tackling rather a nasty business, and if you can help me, +I'll be eternally grateful to you. It has got on my nerves." + +Coryndon bowed his head silently and drew up a chair near the table. All +the time that Hartley talked to him, he listened with close attention. +The Head of the Police went into the whole subject at length, telling +the story as it had happened, and leaving out, so far as he knew, no +point that bore upon the question. First he told of the disappearance of +the boy Absalom, the grief and frantic despair of Mhtoon Pah, and his +visit to Hartley in the very room where they sat. + +"He was away from the curio shop that night, you say?" + +"Yes, at the Pagoda. He is building a shrine there. His statement to me +was that he went away just after dark, and the boy had already left an +hour before." + +Coryndon said nothing, but waited for the rest of the story, and, bit by +bit, Hartley set it before him. + +"Heath saw Absalom, and admitted it to me," he said, pulling at his +short, red moustache. "Even then he showed a very curious amount of +irritation, and refused to say anything further. Then he lied to me when +I went to the house, and there is Atkins' testimony to the fact that he +is paying a man to keep quiet." + +"Has the man reappeared since?" + +"Not since I had the house watched." + +Coryndon's eyes narrowed and he moved his hands slightly. + +"Next there is the very trifling evidence of Mrs. Wilder. It doesn't +count for much, but it goes to prove that she knows something of Heath +which she won't give away. She knows something, or she wouldn't screen +him. That is simple deduction." + +"Quite simple." + +"Now, with reference to Joicey," went on Hartley, with a frown. "I don't +personally think that Joicey knows or remembers whether he did see +Heath. My Superintendent swears that he did go down Paradise Street on +the night of the twenty-ninth, but Joicey is ill, and he said he wasn't +in Mangadone then. He has been seedy for some time and may have mixed up +dates." + +"You attach no importance to him?" + +"Practically none." Hartley leaned back in his chair and lighted a +cheroot. + +Coryndon touched the piece of silk rag with his hand. + +"This rag business is out of place, taken in connection with Heath." + +"I don't accuse Heath, Coryndon, but I believe that he _knows_ where the +boy went. The last thing that was told me by Mhtoon Pah was that the +gold lacquer bowl that was ordered by Mrs. Wilder was found on the steps +of the shop. Though what that means, the devil only knows. Mhtoon Pah +considers it likely that the Chinaman, Leh Shin, put it there, but I +have absolutely nothing to connect Leh Shin with the disappearance, and +I have withdrawn the men who were watching the shop." + +"Interesting," said Coryndon slowly. + +"Can you give me any opinion? I'm badly in need of help." + +Coryndon shook his head, his hand still touching the stained rag idly. + +"I could give you none at all, on these facts." + +Hartley looked at him with a fixed and imploring stare. + +"In a place like this, to be the chief mover, the actual incentive to +disclosing God knows what, is simply horrible," he said in a rough, +pained voice. "I've done my share of work, Coryndon, and I've taken my +own risks, but any cases I've had against white men haven't been against +men like the Padré." + +Coryndon gave a little short sigh that had weariness in its sound, +weariness or impatience. + +"What you have told me involves three principals, and a score of +others." He was counting as he spoke. "Any one of them may be the man +you are looking for, only circumstances indicate one in particular. You +are satisfied that you have got the line. I could not confidently say +that you have, unless I had been working the case myself, and had +followed up every clue throughout." + +Hartley got up and paced the room, his hands deep in the pockets of his +dinner jacket. + +"I am convinced that Heath will have to be forced to speak, and, I may +as well be honest with you--I don't like forcing him." + +Coryndon was not watching his host, he was leaning back in his chair, +his eyes on a little spiral of smoke that circled up from his cigarette. + +"I wish that damned little Absalom had never been heard of, and that it +was anybody's business but mine to find him, if he is to be found." + +If Coryndon's finely-cut lips trembled into an instantaneous smile, it +passed almost at once, and he looked quietly round at Hartley, who still +paced, looking like an overgrown schoolboy in a bad mood. + +"I wish I could help you, Hartley, but I have not enough to go on. As +you say, the case is unusual, and it makes it impossible for me to +advise." He got up and stretched himself. "There is one thing I will +do, if you wish it, and, from what you said, you may wish it; I will +take over the whole thing--for my holiday, and the Wagner Cycle will +have to wait." + +Hartley came to a standstill before his guest. + +"You'll do that, Coryndon?" + +"The case interests me," said Coryndon, "otherwise, I should not suggest +it." He paused for a moment and reflected. "I shall have to make your +bungalow my headquarters; that is the simplest plan. Any absences may be +accounted for by shooting trips and that sort of thing. That part of it +is straightforward enough, and I can see the people I want to see." + +"You shall have a free hand to do anything you like," said Hartley. "And +any help that I can give you." + +Coryndon looked at him for a moment without replying. + +"Thank you, Hartley. Our methods are different, as you know, but when I +want you, I will tell you how you can help me." + +He walked across the room to where two tumblers and a decanter of whisky +stood on a tray, and, pouring himself out a glass of soda water, sipped +it slowly. + +"Here are my notes," said Hartley, in a voice of great relief. "They +will be useful for reference." + +Coryndon folded them up and put them in his pocket. + +"Most of what is there is also in my official report." + +Coryndon nodded his head, and, opening the piano, struck a light chord. +After a moment he sat down and played softly, and the air he played came +straight from the high rocks that guard the Afghan frontier. Like a +breeze that springs up at evening, the little love-song lilted and +whispered under his compelling fingers, and the "Song of the Broken +Heart" sang itself in the room of Hartley, Head of the Police. Where it +carried Coryndon no one could guess, but it carried Hartley into a very +rose-garden of sentimental fatuity, and when the music stopped he gave a +deep grunting sigh of content. + +"I'll get some honest sleep to-night," he said as they parted, and ten +minutes afterwards he was lying under his mosquito-curtains, oblivious +to the world. + +Coryndon's servant, Shiraz, was squatting across the door that led into +the veranda when his master came in, and he waited for his orders. He +would have sat anywhere for weeks, and had done so, to await the +doubtful coming of Coryndon, whose times and seasons no man knew. + +When he was gone, Coryndon took out the bulky packet of notes and +extracted the piece of rag, which he locked carefully away in a +dispatch-box. He then cleared a little space on the floor, and put the +papers lightly over one another. Setting a match to them, he watched +them light up and curl into brittle tinder, and dissolve from that stage +into a heap of charred ashes, which he gathered up with a careful hand +and put into the soft earth of a fern-box outside his veranda door. This +being done, he sat down and began to think steadily, letting the names +drift through his brain, one by one, until they sorted themselves, and +he felt for the most useful name to take first. + +"Joicey, the Banker, is a man of no importance," he murmured to himself, +and again he said, "Joicey the Banker." + +It was nearly dawn when he got between the cool linen sheets, and was +asleep almost as his dark head lay back against the soft white pillow. + + + + +XII + +SHOWS HOW A MAN MAY CLIMB A HUNDRED STEPS INTO A PASSIONLESS PEACE, AND +RETURN AGAIN TO A WORLD OF SMALL TORMENTS + + +By the end of a week Coryndon had slipped into the ways of Mangadone, +slipped in quietly and without causing much comment. He went to the Club +with Hartley and made the acquaintance of nearly all his host's friends, +and they, in return, gave him the casual notice accorded to a passing +stranger who had no part or lot in their lives or interests. Coryndon +was very quiet and listened to everything; he listened to a great deal +in the first three days, and Fitzgibbon, a barrister, offered to take +him round and show him the town. + +Coryndon was "shown the town," but apparently he found a lasting joy in +sight-seeing, and could witness the same sights repeatedly without +failing interest. He climbed the steps to the Pagoda, under the guidance +of Fitzgibbon, the first afternoon they met. + +"Won't you come, too, Hartley?" asked the Barrister. + +"Not if I know it. I've been there about sixty times. If Coryndon wants +to see it, I'm thankful to let him go there with you." + +Fitzgibbon, who had a craze for borrowing anything that he was likely +to want, had persuaded Prescott, the junior partner in a rice firm, to +lend him his car, and as he sat in the tonneau beside Coryndon, he +pointed out the places of interest. Their way lay first through the +residential quarter, and Hartley's guest saw the entrance gate and +gardens of Draycott Wilder's house. + +"The most interesting and certainly the best-looking woman in Mangadone +lives there, a Mrs. Wilder. Hartley ought to have told you about her; he +is rather favoured by the lady. Her husband is a rising civilian. Mrs. +Wilder has bought Asia, and is wondering whether she'll buy Europe +next." + +Coryndon hardly appeared impressed or even interested. + +"So she is a friend of Hartley's?" he said carelessly. "I hadn't heard +that." + +Fitzgibbon laughed. + +"It's something to be a friend of Mrs. Wilder--that is, in Mangadone." + +They sped on over the level road, and the car swung through the streets +that led towards the open space before the temple. + +"That is the curio dealer's shop. Don't get any of your stuff there. The +man's a robber." + +"Which shop?" asked Coryndon patiently. + +"We're past it now, but it was the one with a dancing man outside of it, +a funny little effigy." + +Coryndon's eyes were turned to the Pagoda, and he was evidently +inattentive. + +"It strikes you, doesn't it?" asked Fitzgibbon, in the tones of a +gratified showman. "It always does strike people who haven't seen it +before." + +"Naturally, when one has not seen it before," echoed his companion, as +the car drew up. + +Coryndon stood for a moment looking at the entrance, and surveying the +huge plaster dragons with their gaping mouths and vermilion-red tongues. +They were ranged up a green slope, two on either side of the brown +fretted roof that covered the steep tunnel that led up a flight of more +than a hundred steps to the flat plateau, where the golden spire towered +high over all, amid a crowd of lesser minarets. + +Surrounded by baskets of roses and orchids, little silk-clothed Burmese +girls sat on the entrance steps, and sold their wares. Fitzgibbon would +have hurried on, but Coryndon, in true tripper fashion, stopped and +bought an armful of blossoms. + +"What am I to do with these things?" he asked helplessly. + +"Oh, you'd better leave them before one of the _Gaudamas_, and acquire +merit. If you let them all plunder you like this, we'll never get to the +top." + +Flight after flight, the two men climbed slowly, and Coryndon stood at +intervals to watch the crowd that came up and down. The steps were so +steep that the arch above them only disclosed descending feet, but +Coryndon watched the feet appear first and then the rest of the hurrying +or loitering men and women, and he sat on a seat beside a little +gathering of yellow-robed _Hypongyis_ until Fitzgibbon lost all +patience. + +"There is a whole town of piety to see up at the top. Come on, man; we +have hours of it yet to get through. Don't waste time over those stalls. +Every picture of the Buddha story was made in Birmingham." + +Progressing a little faster, Fitzgibbon piloted Coryndon past a stall +where yellow candles and bundles of joss-sticks in red paper cases were +sold at a varying price. + +"I must get some of these," objected Coryndon, who added a rupee's worth +of incense and a white cheroot to his collection. + +When they passed through the last archway and gained the plateau, he +looked round with eyes that spoke his keen interest. Even though he had +been there many times before, Coryndon looked at the sight with eyes +that grew shadowed by the dreaming soul that lived within him. + +Twilight was gathering behind the trees; only the gold-laced spires of a +thousand minarets caught the last light of the sun. On the plateau below +the great pillar, that glimmered like a golden sword from base to +bell-hung _Htee_, lay what Fitzgibbon had described as "a little town of +piety." A village of shrines and Pagodas, each built with seven roofs, +open-fronted to disclose the holy place within; some large as a small +chapel; some small, giving room only for the figure of the _Gaudama_. +Here and there, the votive offerings had fallen into decay, and the +gold-leaf covering the Buddha was black and dilapidated by the passing +of years, for there is no merit to be acquired in rebuilding or +renovating a sacred place. From innumerable shrines, uncounted Buddhas +looked out with the same long, contemplative eyes; in bronze, in jade, +in white and black marble, in grey stone and gilded ebony, the +passionless face of the great Peace looked out upon his children. + +Near to where Coryndon and the Barrister stood together, in the +peach-coloured evening light, a large shrine with a fretted roof was +thronged with worshippers, and Coryndon stood on the steps and looked +in. The floor of black, polished marble dimly reflected the immense gold +pillars that supported a lofty ceiling, lost entirely in the gloom, and +before a blaze of candles and a floating veil of scented grey smoke a +priest bowed himself, and prayed in a low, chanting voice. The face of +the Lord Buddha behind the rails was lighted by the wind-blown flame of +many tapers, so that it almost looked as though he smiled out of his +far-away Nirvana upon his kneeling worshippers, who could ask nothing of +him, not even mercy, since the salvation of a man is in his own hands. + +Before the rails, a settle with low gilt legs was covered with offerings +of flowers, that added their scent to the heavy air, and on a small +table a feast of cakes and sweets was placed, to be distributed later on +among the poor. Coryndon disposed of his burden of pink and white roses +and little magenta prayer-flags, and lighted a bundle of joss-sticks, +before they came out again and wandered on. + +As the daylight faded the lights from the shrines and the small booths +grew stronger, and the rising night wind, coming in from the river, rang +the silver bells around the spires, filling the whole air with tinkling +sound, and the slow-moving crowd around them laughed and joked, like +people at a fair. His eyes still full of dreams, Coryndon followed with +them, keeping one small packet of amber candles to light in honour of +some other Buddha in another shrine. + +"Funny devils, these Burmese," remarked the Barrister. "They never clean +up anything. Look at the years of tallow collected under that spiked +gate that is falling off its hinges. That black little Buddha inside +must once have been a popular favourite, but no one gives him anything +now." + +They turned a corner past a booth where bottles full of pink and yellow +fluid, and green leaves, wrapped around betel-nut, appeared to be the +chief stock-in-trade, and a noise of hammering struck on their ears. +Here a new shrine was being erected and was all but completed. A few +Chinamen, who had been working at it, were putting their tools into +canvas bags, preparatory to withdrawing like the remaining daylight. + +"This is Mhtoon Pah's edifice," said Fitzgibbon, coming to a standstill. +"He doesn't seem to have spared expense, either. Shall we go in?" + +The shrine was not a very large one, and the entrance was like the +entrance to a grotto at an Exhibition. Tiny facets of glass were crusted +into grass-green cement, shining like a thousand eyes, and, seated on a +vermilion lacquer daïs, a Buddha, with heavy eyelids that hid his +strange eyes, presided over an illumination of smoking flame. The smell +of joss-sticks was heavy on the air, and the filigree cloak worn by the +Buddha was enriched with red and green glass that shone and glittered. + +"They say the caste-mark in his forehead is a real diamond," remarked +the Barrister. "I don't suppose it is, but at least it is a good +imitation." + +Coryndon was not listening to him; he had gone close to the marble +rails, and was lighting his little bunch of yellow tapers. He lighted +them one by one, and put each one down on the floor very slowly and +carefully, and when he had finished he turned round. + +"Mhtoon Pah is the man who has the curio shop?" he asked. + +"The very same. It gives you some idea of his percentage on sales, +what?" + +Coryndon joined in his laugh, and they went out again into the street of +sanctity. Fitzgibbon was now getting exhausted, for his companion's +desire to "do" the Pagoda was apparently insatiable; and he asked +interminable questions that the Barrister was totally unable to answer. + +Coryndon seemed to find something fresh and interesting around every +corner. The white elephants delighted him, particularly where green +creepers had grown round their trunks, giving them a realistic effect of +enjoying a meal. The handles off very common English chests-of-drawers, +that were set along a rail enclosing a sleeping Buddha, pleased him like +a child, as did the bits of looking-glass with "Black and White Whisky," +or "Apollinaris Water," inscribed across their faces. + +"That sort of thing seems to attract them," explained Fitzgibbon. "In +one of the shrines there is a fancy biscuit-box at a Buddha's feet. It +has got 'Huntley and Palmer' on the top, and pictures of children and +swans all around it. Funny devils, I always say so." + +At length he had to drag Coryndon away, almost by main force. + +"I'd like to have seen Mhtoon Pah," he objected. "He ought to be on view +with his chapel." + +"Shrine, Coryndon. You can see him in his shop," and they began the +descent down the steep steps. + +"Look," said the Barrister quickly, "there is Mhtoon Pah. No, not the +man in white trousers, that's a Chinaman with a pigtail under his hat; +the fat old thing in the short silk _loongyi_ and crimson head-scarf." + +Coryndon hardly glanced at him, as he passed with a scent of spice and +sandal-wood in his garments; his attention had been attracted by a booth +where men were eating curry. + +"It is a curious custom to sell food in a place like this," he remarked +to the Barrister. + +"It's part of the Oriental mind," replied his guide. "No one understands +it. No one ever will; so don't try and begin, or you'll wear yourself +out." + +When they got back to the Club it was already late, and the hall of the +bar was crowded with men, standing together in groups, or sitting in +long, uncompromising chairs under the impression that they were +comfortable seats. + +"Hullo, Joicey," said the Barrister, as he fell over his legs. "I'm +dog-beat. Been doing the Pagoda with Coryndon. Do you know each +other--?" He waved his hand by way of introduction, and Coryndon took an +empty chair beside the Banker, who heaved himself up a little in his +seat, and signalled to a small boy in white, who was scuffling with +another small boy, also in white, and ordered some drinks. + +"I am new to it," explained Coryndon, and his voice sounded tired, as +though the Pagoda had been a little too much for him. + +Joicey did not reply; he was looking away, and Coryndon followed his +eyes. Near the wide staircase, and just about to go up it, a man was +standing, talking to a friend. He was dressed in an ill-cut suit of +white, with a V-shaped inlet of black under his round collar; he held a +_topi_ of an old pattern under his arm, and the light showed his face +cadaverous and worn. Joicey was holding the arm of his chair, and his +under-lip trembled. + +"Inexplicable," he muttered, and drank with a gulping sound. + +"What did you say?" asked Coryndon politely. + +"Say? Did I say anything? I can't remember that I did." The Banker's +voice was irritable, and he still watched the clergyman. + +"What strikes me about the Pagoda is the strong Chinese element in the +design. I am told that there are a lot of Chinamen in Mangadone. I +should like to see their quarter." + +"Hartley should be able to arrange that for you." + +Joicey was evidently growing tired of Coryndon's freshness and +enthusiasm, and he passed his hand over his face, as though the damp +heat of the night depressed his mind. + +"Hartley is very busy," said Coryndon, with the determination of a man +who intends to see what he has come to see. "I don't like to be +perpetually badgering him. Could I go alone?" + +"You could," said Joicey shortly. + +"I want to miss nothing." + +Coryndon turned his head away and looked at the crowded room, fixing his +gaze on a whirring fan that hung low on a brass rod, and when he looked +round again, Joicey had got up and was making his way out into the +night. Fitzgibbon was surrounded by several other men, and there was no +sign of his friend Hartley, so he got up and slipped out, standing +hatless, until his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. + +The strong lights from the veranda encroached some way into the gloom, +and, here and there, a few people still sat around basket tables, +enjoying the evening air. Coryndon looked at them, with his head bent +forward, a little like a cat just about to emerge through a door into a +dark passage. For a little time, he stood there, watching and listening, +and then he turned away and walked out along the footpath, as though in +a hurry to get back to his bungalow. + + + + +XIII + +PUTS FORWARD THE FACT THAT A SUDDEN FRIENDSHIP NEED NOT BE BASED UPON A +SUDDEN LIKING; AND PASSES THE NIGHT UNTIL DAWN REVEALS A SHAMEFUL SECRET + + +Some ten days after Coryndon had taken up his quarters with Hartley, he +informed his host that he intended to disappear for a time, and that he +would take his servant, Shiraz, with him. He had been through every +quarter of Mangadone before he set out to commence operations, and the +whole town lay clear as a map in his mind. + +Hartley was dining out, "dining at the Wilders'," he said casually, and +he further informed Coryndon that Mrs. Wilder had asked him to bring his +friend, but no amount of persuasion could induce Coryndon to forgo an +evening by himself. He pointed out to Hartley that he never went into +society, and that he found it a strain on his mind when he required to +think anything through, and, with a greater show of reluctance than he +really felt, Hartley conceded to his wish, and Coryndon sat down to a +solitary meal. He ate very sparingly and drank plain soda water, and +whilst he sat at the table his long, yellow-white fingers played on the +cloth, and his eyes followed the swaying punkah mat with an odd, +intense light in their inscrutable depths. + +He had made Hartley understand that he never talked over a case, and +that he followed it out entirely according to his own ideas, and Hartley +honestly respected his reserve, making no effort to break it. + +"When the hands are full, something falls to the ground and is lost," +Coryndon murmured to himself as he got up and went to his room. +"Shiraz," he called, "Shiraz," and the servant sprang like a shadow from +the darkness in response to his master's summons. + +"To-night I go out." Coryndon waved his hand. "To-morrow I go out, and +of the third day--I cannot tell. Let it be known to the servant people +that, like all travelling Sahibs, I wish to see the evil of the great +city. I may return with the morning, but it may be that I shall be +late." + +"_Inshallah, Huzoor_," murmured Shiraz, bowing his head, "what is the +will of the Master?" + +"A rich man is marked among his kind; where he goes the eyes of all men +turn to follow his steps, but the poor man is as a grain of sand in the +dust-storm of a Northern Province. Great are the blessings of the humble +and needy of the earth, for like the wind in its passing, they are +invisible to the eyes of men." + +Shiraz made no response; he lowered the green chicks outside the doors +and windows, and opened a small box, battered with age and wear. + +"The servant's box is permitted to remain in the room of the Lord +Sahib," he said with a low chuckle. "When asked of my effrontery in this +matter, I reply that the Lord Sahib is ignorant, that he minds not the +dignity of his condition, and behold, it is never touched, though the +leathern box of the Master has been carefully searched by Babu, the +butler of Hartley Sahib, who knows all that lies folded therein." + +While he spoke he was busy unwrapping a collection of senah bundles, +which he took out from beneath a roll of dusters and miscellaneous +rubbish, carefully placed on the top. The box had no lock and was merely +fastened with a bit of thick string, tied into a series of cunning +knots. + +When he had finished unpacking, he laid a faded strip of +brightly-coloured cotton on the bed, in company with a soiled jacket and +a tattered silk head-scarf, and, as Shiraz made these preparations, +Coryndon, with the aid of a few pigments in a tin box, altered his face +beyond recognition. He wore his hair longer than that of the average +man, and, taking his hair-brushes, he brushed it back from his temples +and tied a coarse hank of black hair to it, and knotted it at the back +of his head. He dressed quickly, his slight, spare form wound round the +hips with a cotton _loongyi_, and he pulled on the coat over a thin, +ragged vest, and sat down, while Shiraz tied the handkerchief around his +head. + +The art of make-up is, in itself, simple enough, but the very much more +subtle art of expression is the gift of the very few. It was hard to +believe that the slightly foreign-looking young man with Oriental eyes +could be the pock-marked, poverty-stricken Burman who stood in his +place. + +Slipping on a light overcoat, he pulled a large, soft hat over his head, +and walked out quickly through the veranda. + +"Now, then, Shiraz," he called out in a quick, ill-tempered voice. "Come +along with the lamp. Hang it; you know what I mean, the _butti_. These +infernal garden-paths are alive with snakes." + +Shiraz hastened after him, cringing visibly, and swinging a hurricane +lamp as he went. When they had got clear of the house and were near the +gate, Coryndon spoke to him in a low voice. + +"Pull my boots off my feet." Shiraz did as he was bidden and slipped his +master's feet into the leather sandals which he carried under his wide +belt. "Now take the coat and hat, and in due time I shall return, though +not by day. Let it be known that to-morrow we take our journey of seven +days; and it may be that to-morrow we shall do so." + +"_Inshallah_," murmured Shiraz, and returned to the house. + +By night the streets of Mangadone were a sight that many legitimate +trippers had turned out to witness. The trams were crowded and the +native shops flared with light, for the night is cool and the day hot +and stifling; therefore, by night a large proportion of the inhabitants +of Mangadone take their pleasure out of doors. In the Berlin Café the +little tables were crowded with those strange anomalies, black men and +women in European clothes. There had been a concert in the Presentation +Hall, and the audience nearly all reassembled at the Berlin Café for +light refreshments when the musical programme was concluded. + +Paradise Street was not behindhand in the matter of entertainment: there +was a wedding festival in progress, and, at the modest café, a thick +concourse of men talking and singing and enjoying life after their own +fashion; only the house of Mhtoon Pah, the curio dealer, was dark, and +it was before this house, close to the figure of the pointing man, that +the weedy-looking Burman who had come out of Hartley's compound stopped +for a moment or two. He did not appear to find anything to keep him +there; the little man had nothing better to offer him than a closed +door, and a closed door is a definite obstacle to anyone who is not a +housebreaker, or the owner with a key in his pocket; so, at least, the +Burman seemed to think, for he passed on up the street towards the river +end. + +From there to the colonnade where the Chinese Quarter began was a +distance of half a by-street, and Coryndon slid along, apologetically +close to the wall. He avoided the policeman in his blue coat and high +khaki turban, and his manner was generally inoffensive and harmless as +he sneaked into the low entrance of Leh Shin's lesser curio shop. A +large coloured lantern hung outside the inner room, and a couple of +candles did honour to the infuriated Joss who capered in colour on the +wall. + +All the hidden vitality of the man seemed to live in every line of his +lithe body as he looked in, but it subsided again as he entered, and he +stared vacantly around him. + +There was no one in the shop but Leh Shin's assistant, who was finishing +a meal of cold pork, and whose heavy shoulders worked with his jaws. He +ceased both movements when Coryndon entered, and continued again as he +spoke, the flap of his tweed hat shaking like elephants' ears. He +informed Coryndon, who spoke to him in Yunnanese, that Leh Shin was out, +so that if he had anything to sell, he would arrange the details of the +bargain, and if he wanted to buy, he could leave the price of the +article with the trusted assistant of Leh Shin. + +It took Coryndon some time to buy what he needed, which appeared to be +nothing more interesting than a couple of old boxes. The Burman needed +these to pack a few goods in, as he meditated inhabiting the empty, +rat-infested house next door but one to the shop of Leh Shin. Upon +hearing that they were to be neighbours, the assistant grew sulky and +informed Coryndon that trade was slack if he wished to sell anything, +but his eyes grew crafty again when he was informed that his new +acquaintance did not act for himself, but for a friend from Madras, who +having made much money out of a Sahib, whose bearer he had been for some +years, desired to open business in a small way with sweets and grain and +such-like trifles, whereby to gain an honest living. + +The assistant glanced at the clock, when, after much haggling, the deal +was concluded, and the Burman knotted the remainder of his money in a +small corner of his _loongyi_, and stood rubbing his elbows, looking at +the Chinaman, who appeared restless. + +"Where shall I find Leh Shin?" The Burman put the question suddenly. "In +what house am I to seek him, assistant of the widower and the +childless?" + +The boy leered and jerked his thumb towards the direction of the river. + +"Closed to-night, follower of the Way," he said with a smothered noise +like a strangled laugh. "Closed to-night. Every door shut, every light +hidden, and those who go and demand the dreams cannot pass in. I, only, +know the password, since my master receives high persons." He spat on +the floor. + +Coryndon bowed his head in passive subjection. + +"None else know my quantity," he murmured. "These thieves in the lesser +streets would mix me a poison and do me evil." + +The assistant scratched his head diligently and looked doubtfully at the +Burman. + +"And yet I cannot remember thy face." + +"I have been away up the big river. I have travelled far to that Island, +where I, with other innocent ones, suffered for no fault of mine." + +Leh Shin's assistant looked satisfied. If the Burman were but lately +returned from the convict settlement on the Andaman Islands, it was +quite likely that he might not have been acquainted with him. + +To all appearances, the bargain being concluded, and Leh Shin being +absent from the shop, there was nothing further to keep the customer, +yet he made no sign of wishing to leave, and, after a little preamble, +he invited the assistant to drink with him, since, he explained, he +needed company and had taken a fancy to the Chinese boy, who, in his +turn, admitted to a liking for any man who was prepared to entertain him +free of expense. Leh Shin's assistant could not leave the shop for +another hour, so the Burman, who did not appear inclined to wait so +long, went out swiftly, and came back with a bottle of native spirit. + +Fired by the fumes of the potent and burning alcohol, the Chinaman +became inquisitive, and wished to hear the details of the crime for +which his new friend had so wrongfully suffered. He looked so evil, so +greasy, and so utterly loathsome that he seemed to fascinate the Burman, +who rocked himself about and moaned as he related the story of his +wrong. His words so excited the ghoulish interest of his listener that +his bloated body quivered as he drank in the details. + +"And so ends the tale of his great evil; he that was my friend," said +Coryndon, rising from his heels as he finished his story. "The hour +grows late and there is no comfort in the night, since I may not find +oblivion." He passed his hand stupidly over his forehead. "My memory is +lost, flapping like an owl in the sunlight; once the road to the house +by the river lay before me as the lines upon my open palm, but now the +way is no longer clear." + +"I have said that it is closed to-night, so none may enter. There is a +password, but I alone know it, and I may not tell it, friend of an evil +man." + +"There are other nights," whined the Burman, "many of them in the +passing of a year. When I have the knowledge of thee, then may I seek +and find later." He rubbed his knees with an indescribable gesture of +mean cringing. + +The Chinese boy drank from the bottle and smacked his lips. + +"Hear, then, thou convict," he said in a shrill hectoring voice. "By the +way of Paradise Street, along the wharf and past the waste place where +the tram-line ends and the houses stand far apart. Of the houses of +commerce, I do not speak; of the mat houses where the Coringyhis live, I +do not speak, but beyond them, open below to the water-snakes, and built +above into a secret place, is the house we know of, but Leh Shin is not +there for thee to-night, as I have already spoken." + +He felt in the pouch at his waist for a rank black cigar, which he +pushed into his mouth and lighted with a sulphur match. + +"Who fries the mud fish when he may eat roast duck?" he said, with a +harsh cackle that made the Burman start and stare at him. + +"_Aie! Aie!_ I do not understand thy words." The Burman's face grew +blank and he went to the door. + +"Neither do you need to, son of a chained monkey," retorted the boy, +full of strong liquor and arrogance. "But I tell thee, I and my mate, +Leh Shin, hold more than money between the finger and the thumb,"--he +pinched his forefinger against a mutilated thumb. "More than money, +see, fool; thou understandest nothing, thy brain is left along with thy +chains in the Island which is known unto thee." + +"Sleep well," said the Burman. "Sleep well, child of the Heavens, I +understand thee not at all," and with a limp shrug of his shoulders, he +slid out of the narrow door into the night. + +Coryndon gave one glance at the sky; the dawn was still far off, but in +spite of this he ran up the deserted colonnade and walked quickly down +Paradise Street, which was still awake and would be awake for hours. +Once clear of the lessening crowd and on to the wharf, he ran again; +past the business houses, past the long quarter where the Coringyhis and +coolie-folk lived, and, lastly, with a slow, lurking step, to the close +vicinity of a house standing alone upon high supports. He skirted round +it, but to all appearances it was closed and empty, and he sat down +behind a clump of rough elephant-grass and tucked his heels under him. + +His original idea, on coming out, had been merely to get into touch with +Leh Shin, and make the way clear for his coming to the small, empty +house close to the shop of the ineffectual curio dealer, and now he +knew, through his fine, sharp instinct, that he was close upon the track +of some mystery. It might have nothing to do with the disappearance of +the Christian boy, Absalom, or it might be a thread from the hidden +loom, but, in any case, Coryndon determined to wait and see what was +going to happen. He was well used to long waiting, and the Oriental +strain in his blood made it a matter of no effort with him. Someone was +hidden in the lonely house, some man who paid heavily for the privacy of +the waterside opium den, and Coryndon was determined to discover who +that man was. + +The night was fair and clear, and the murmur of the tidal river gentle +and soothing, and as he sat, well hidden by the clump of grass, he went +over the events of the evening and thought of the face of Leh Shin's +assistant. Hartley had spoken of the bestial creature in tones of +disgust, but Hartley had not seen him to the same peculiar advantage. +Line by line, Coryndon committed the face to his indelible memory, +looking at it again in the dark, and brooding over it as a lover broods +over the face of the woman he loves, but from very different motives. He +was assured that no cruelty or wickedness that mortal brain could +imagine would be beyond the act of this man, if opportunity offered, and +he was attracted by the psychological interest offered to him in the +study of such a mind. + +The ripples whispered below him, and, far away, he heard the chiming of +a distant clock striking a single note, but he did not stir; he sat like +a shadow, his eyes on the house, that rose black, silent, and, to all +appearances, deserted, against the starry darkness of the sky. He had +got his facts clear, so far as they went, and his mind wandered out with +the wash of the water, and the mystery of the river flowed over him; the +silent causeway leading to the sea, carrying the living on its bosom, +and bearing the dead beneath its brown, sucking flow, full of its own +life, and eternally restless as the sea tides ebbed and flowed, yet +musical and wild and unchanged by the hand of man. Coryndon loved moving +waters, and he remembered that somewhere, miles away from Mangadone, he +had played along a river bank, little better than the small native +children who played there now, and he saw the green jungle-clearing, the +red road, and the roof of his father's bungalow, and he fancied he could +hear the cry of the paddy-birds, and the voices of the water-men who +came and went through the long, eventless days. + +Even while he thought, he never moved his eyes from the house. Suddenly +a light glimmered for a moment behind a window, and he sat forward +quickly, forgetting his dream, and becoming Coryndon the tracker in the +twinkling flash of a second. The inmates of the house were stirring at +last, and Coryndon lay flat behind his clump of grass and hardly +breathed. + +He could hear a door open softly, and, though it was too dark to discern +anything, he knew that there was a man on the veranda, and that the man +slipped down the staircase, where he stood for a moment and peered +about. He moved quietly up the path and watched it for a few minutes, +and then slid back into the house again. Coryndon could hear whispers +and a low, growled response, and then another figure appeared, a Sahib +this time, by his white clothes. He used no particular caution, and came +heavily down the staircase, that creaked under his weight, and took the +track by which Coryndon had come. + +Silhouetted against the sky, Coryndon saw the head and neck of a +Chinaman, and he turned his eyes from the man on the path to watch this +outline intently; it was thin, spare and vulture-like. Evidently Leh +Shin was watching his departing guest with some anxiety, for he peered +and craned and leaned out until Coryndon cursed him from where he lay, +not daring to move until he had gone. + +At last the silhouette was withdrawn and the Chinaman went back into the +house. He had hardly done so when Coryndon was on his feet, running +hard. He ran lightly and gained the road just as the man he followed +turned the corner by Wharf Street and plodded on steadily. In the +darkness of the night there are no shadows thrown, but this man had a +shadow as faithful as the one he knew so well and that was his companion +from sunrise to sunset, and close after him the poor, nameless Burman +followed step for step through the long path that ended at the house of +Joicey the Banker. + +Coryndon watched him go in, heard him curse the _Durwan_, and then he +ran once more, because the stars were growing pale and time was +precious. He was weary and tired when he crept into the compound outside +the sleeping bungalow on the hill-rise, and he stood at the gate and +gave a low, clear cry, the cry of a waking bird, and a few minutes +afterwards Coryndon followed Joicey's example and cursed the _Durwan_, +kicking him as he lay snoring on his blanket. + +"Open the door, you swine," he said in the angry voice of a belated +reveller, "and don't wake the house with that noise." + +Even when he was in his room and delivered himself over to the +ministrations of Shiraz, he did not go to bed. He had something to think +over. He knew that he had established the connection between Joicey the +Banker and the spare, gaunt Chinaman who kept a shop for miscellaneous +wares in the dark colonnade beyond Paradise Street. Joicey had a short +memory: he had forgotten whether he had met the Rev. Francis Heath on +the night of the 29th of July, and had imagined that he was not there, +that he was away from Mangadone; and as Coryndon dropped off to sleep, +he felt entirely convinced that, if necessary, he could help Joicey's +memory very considerably. + + + + +XIV + +TELLS HOW SHIRAZ, THE PUNJABI, ADMITTED THE FRAILTIES OF ORDINARY +HUMANITY, AND HOW CORYNDON ATTENDED AFTERNOON SERVICE AND CONSIDERED THE +VEXED QUESTION OF TEMPERAMENT. + + +The day following Coryndon's vigil outside the lonely house by the river +was dull and grey, with a woolly sky and a tepid stillness that hung +like a tangible weight in the air. Its drowsiness affected even the +native quarter, but it in no way lessened the bustle of preparations for +departure on the part of Coryndon, who ordered Shiraz to pack enough +clothes for a short journey, and to hold himself in readiness to leave +with his master shortly after sunrise the following day. His master also +gave him leave to go to the Bazaar and return at his own discretion, as +he was going out with Hartley Sahib. + +It was about noon, when the sun had struggled clear of the heavy clouds, +that Shiraz found himself in the dark colonnade locking an empty house +behind him with his own key, and, being a stately, red-bearded follower +of the Prophet, with a general appearance of wealth and dignity, he +walked slowly until he came to the doorway of Leh Shin's shop. His step +caused the Chinaman to look up from the string bed where he lay, gaunt, +yellow and unsavoury, his dark clothes contrasting with the flowing +white garments of the venerable man who regarded him through his +spectacles. + +"The hand of Allah has led me to this place," said Shiraz in his low, +reflective tones. "I seek for a little prayer-mat and a few bowls of +brass for my food; likewise, a bed for myself, and a bed of lesser value +for my companion. Hast thou these things, Leh Shin?" + +Leh Shin went into his back premises and returned with the bowls and the +prayer-mat. + +"The bed for thyself, O Haj, and the bed of lesser value for thy friend, +I shall make shift to procure. Presently I will send my assistant, the +eyes of my encroaching age, to bring what you need." + +"It is well," said Shiraz, who was seated on a low stool near the door, +and who looked with contemplative eyes into the shop. + +Leh Shin huddled himself on to the string couch again, and the slow +process of bargain-driving began. Pice by pice they argued the question, +and at last Shiraz produced a handful of small coin, which passed from +him to the Chinaman. + +"I had already heard of thee," said Leh Shin, scratching his loose +sleeves with his long, claw-like fingers. "But thy friend, the Burman, +who spoke beforehand of thy coming, and who still recalls the mixture of +his opium pipe, I cannot remember." He hunched his shoulders. "Yet even +that is not strange. My house by the river is a house of many faces, +yet all who dream wear the same face in the end," his voice crooned +monotonously. "All in the end, from living in the world of visions, +become the same." + +Shiraz bowed his head with grave courtesy. + +"It was also told to me that you served a rich master and have stored up +wealth." + +"The way of honesty is never the path to wealth," responded Shiraz, in +tones of reproof. "So it is written in the Koran." + +Leh Shin accepted the ambiguous reply with an unmoved face. + +"Thy friend is under the hand of devils?" + +He put the remark as an idle question. + +"He is tormented," replied Shiraz, pulling at his beard. "He is much +driven by thoughts of evil, committed, such is his dream, by another +than himself; and yet the _Sirkar_ hath said that the crime was his own. +The ways of Allah are veiled, and Mah Myo is without doubt no longer +reasonable; yet he is my friend, and doth greatly profit thereby." + +"Ah, ah," said the Chinaman, placing a hubble-bubble before his guest, +who condescended to shut the mouthpiece in under his long moustache, +while he sat silently for nearly half an hour. + +"Dost thou sell beautiful things, Leh Shin?" he asked. "I have a gift to +bestow, and my mind troubles me. The Lady Sahib of my late master +suffered misfortune. She was robbed by some unknown son of a jackal, and +thereby lost jewels, the value of which was said to be great, though I +know not of the value of such things." + +Leh Shin curled his bare toes on the edge of his bed and looked at them +with a great appearance of interest. + +"Was the thief taken, O son of a Prophet?" + +"He was not. I have cried in the veranda, to see the Lady Sahib's +sorrow, and I have also prayed and made many offerings at the Mosque, +but the thief escaped. Now that my service with the Lord Sahib is +finished, and as he has assisted my poverty with small gifts, I would +like to make a present to the Lady Sahib. Some trifling thing, costing a +small sum in rupees, for her grief was indeed great, and it may avail to +console her sorrow." + +"For which sorrow thou, also, wept in the veranda," added Leh Shin. + +"The Lady Sahib had many bowls of lacquer, some green, some red, some +spotted like the back of a poison snake, but she lacked a golden bowl, +and, should I be able to procure one for a moderate price, it would add +greatly to her pleasure in remembering her servant, for, says not the +Wise One, 'a gift is a small thing, but the hand that holds it may not +be raised to smite.'" + +Shiraz, all the time he was speaking, had regarded the Chinaman from +behind his respectable gold-rimmed spectacles, and he noticed that Leh +Shin did not seem to care for the subject of lacquer, for his face +darkened and he stopped scratching. + +"I deal not in lacquer," he said quickly. "Neither touch thou the +accursed thing, O Shiraz. Leave it to Mhtoon Pah, who is a sorcerer and +whose lies mount as high as the topmost pinnacle of the Pagoda." The +Chinaman's lips drew back from his teeth, and he snarled like a dog. "I +will not speak of him to thee, but I would that the face of Mhtoon Pah +was under my heel, and his eyeballs under my thumbs." + +"Yet this golden bowl has been in my thought," the voice of Shiraz +flowed on evenly. "And I said that here, in Mangadone, I might find such +an one. Thou art sure that lacquer is accursed to thine eyes, Leh Shin? +That thou hast not such a bowl by thee, neither that thy assistant, when +he seeks the bed for myself and the lesser bed for my friend, could not +look craftily into the shop of this merchant, and ask the price as he +passeth, if so be that Mhtoon Pah has such a bowl to sell?" + +Leh Shin spat ferociously. + +"There was a bowl, a bowl such as you describe, O servant of Kings, and +I thought to procure it, for word was brought me that Mhtoon Pah had +need of it, and I desired to hold it before him and withdraw it again, +and to inspire his covetousness and rage and then to sell it from my own +hand, but he leagues with devils and his power is great, for, behold, +Honourable Haj, the bowl that was mine was lost by the man from the seas +who was about to sell it to me. Lost, in all truth, and after the lapse +of many days, Mhtoon Pah had it in his shop, and sold it to the Lady +Sahib." + +"The hands of a man of wealth are more than two," said Shiraz +oracularly. + +"Nay, not so, for all thy learning, Pilgrim from the Shrine of Mahomet. +The hands of this merchant, at the time I speak, were as my hands, or +thine," he held out his claws and snatched at the air as though it was +his enemy's throat. "For his boy, his assistant, the Christian Absalom, +who served him well, and whom Mhtoon Pah fed upon sweets from the +vendor's stall, was suddenly taken from him, and has vanished, like the +smoke of an opium pipe." + +Shiraz expressed wonder, and agreed with Leh Shin that sorcery had been +used, shaking his head gravely and at length rising to his feet. + +"The shadows lengthen and the hour of prayer draws near. It is time for +the follower of the Prophet to give a poor man's alms at the gate of the +Mosque, and to pray and praise," he said. "Thy assistant tarries, Leh +Shin; let him go forth with speed and place my purchase in thy keeping, +since I met thee in a happy hour, and shall return upon the morrow from +the _Serai_, where it is Allah's will that I pass the night in peace." + +Walking with a slow, regular pace, he left the native quarter, and +taking a tram, got out on the road below the bungalow where Hartley's +servant waited in the veranda. + +"Thy Sahib has cursed thy beard and thine age, and says that he will +replace thee with a younger man if thy dealings in the Bazaar are of +such long duration." + +"Peace, owl," said Shiraz. "The Sahib can no more travel without my +assistance than a babe of one day without his mother. Presently, when +the Sahib has drunk a peg, he will return to reason." + +"The Sahib is not within; he has but now gone out once more, asking +from my Sahib for the loan of a prayer-book. Doubtless, there is a +_Tamasha_ at the 'Kerfedril,' and Coryndon Sahib goes thither to pray." + +"I shall place the buttons in his shirt, and recover an eight-anna piece +from the floor, which the master dropped yesterday, to deliver to him +when he shall return. Seek to be honest in thy youth, my son, for in +later life it will repay thee." + +Hartley's boy had not been mistaken when he heard Coryndon ask for a +prayer-book and saw him go out on foot. The small persistent bell +outside St. Jude's Church was ringing with desperate energy to collect +any worshippers who might feel inclined to assemble there for evensong, +and the worshippers when collected under the tin roof numbered nearly a +dozen. + +It was a bare, barn-like Church, for the wealth of the Cantonment had +flowed in the direction of the Cathedral. The punkah mats flapped +languidly, and the lower part of the church was dark, only the chancel +being lighted with ungainly punkah-proof lamps, and the two altar +candles that threw their gleam on a plain gold cross, guttered in the +heat. A strip of cocoa-nut matting lay along the aisle, and the chancel +and altar steps were covered in sad, faded red. The organist did not +attend except on Sundays or Feast Days, and the service was plain, +conducted throughout by the Rev. Francis Heath. + +Coryndon took a seat about half-way up the nave, and when Heath came +into the church, he watched him with interest. He liked to watch a man, +whom it was his business to study, without being disturbed, and Heath's +face in profile, as he knelt at the reading desk, or in full sight as he +stood to read the lesson, attracted the fixed gaze of, at least, one +member of the small congregation. There was no sermon and the service +was short, and as he sat quietly in his place, Coryndon wondered what +frenzied moment of fear or despair could have driven this man into the +company of Joicey and Mrs. Draycott Wilder, unconscious perhaps of their +connection with him, but linked nevertheless by an invisible thread that +wound around them all. + +Beyond the fact that he had seen Mrs. Wilder, he had not taken her under +the close observation of his mental microscope. She stood on one side +until such time as he should have need to probe into her reasons for +silence, and he wondered if Hartley was right, and if, by chance, the +earnest face of the clergyman, with its burning, stricken eyes, had +appealed to her sympathy. Could it be so, he asked himself once or +twice, but the immediate question was the one that Coryndon gave his +mind to answer, and just then he was forming an impression of the Rev. +Francis Heath. + +He looked at his hands, at his thin neck, at the hollows in his cheeks +and the emotional quiver at the corner of his mouth, and he knew the man +was a fanatic, a civilized fanatic, but desperately and even horribly in +earnest. A believer in torment, a man who held the vigorous faith that +makes for martyrdom and can also pile wood for the fires that burn the +bodies of others for the eventual welfare of their souls. +Unquestionably, the Rev. Francis Heath was a man not to be judged by an +average inch rule, and Coryndon thought over him as he listened to his +voice and watched his strained, tempest-tossed face. Whether he was +involved in the disappearance of Absalom or not, he recognized that +Heath was a strong man, and that his ill-balanced force would need very +little to make him a violent man. It surprised him less to think that +Hartley attached suspicion to the Rector of St. Jude's than it had at +first, and he left the church with a very clear impression of the +clergyman put carefully away beside his appreciation of Leh Shin's +assistant. He had caught just a glimpse of the personality of the man, +and was busy building it up bit by bit, working out his idea by first +trying to fathom the temperament that dwelt in the spare body and drove +and wore him hour after hour. + +The Rev. Francis Heath had paid some Chinaman to keep silence, but +though he might pay a Chinaman, he could do nothing with his own +conscience, and it was with a hidden adversary that he wrestled day and +night. Coryndon's face was pitiless as the face of a vivisecting +surgeon. Had she known of his mission, Mrs. Wilder might have beaten her +beautiful head on the stones under his feet, and she would have gained +nothing whatever of concession or mercy. + +Atkins and the Barrister were dining with Hartley that night, and as +Coryndon never cared to hurry over his dressing, he went at once to his +room and called Shiraz. + +"All is well, my Master," said Shiraz, in a low voice. "But it would be +wise if the Master were to curse his servant in a loud voice, since it +is expected that he will do so, and the monkey-folk in the servants' +quarter listen without, concealing their pleasure in the Sahib's wrath." + +When the proceedings terminated and Coryndon had accepted his servant's +long excuse for his delay, the doors were closed, Shiraz having first +gone out to shake his fist at Hartley's boy. + +"Thus much have I discovered, Lord Sahib," said Shiraz, when he had +explained that the house was in readiness and the necessary furniture +bought and stored temporarily at the shop of Leh Shin, the Chinaman. +"There is an old hate between these two men, he of the devil shop, and +the Chinaman, a hate as old as rust that eats into an iron bar." + +Coryndon lay back in his chair and listened without remark. + +"Among many lies told unto me, that is true; and again, among many lies, +it is also true that he had not, neither did he ever possess, the gold +lacquer bowl, on the subject of which my Master bade me question him. He +knows not how Mhtoon Pah found it, but he believes that it was through a +sorcery he practised, for the man is as full of evil as the chatti +lifted from the brink of the well is full of water." + +Coryndon smiled and glanced at Shiraz. + +"And you think so also, grandson of a Tucktoo, for though you are old, +your white hairs bring you no wisdom." + +"I am the Sahib's servant, but who knoweth the ways of devils, since +their footprints cannot be seen, neither upon the sand of the desert nor +in the snows of the great hills?" + +"Did he speak of Absalom?" + +"He told me, Protector of the Poor, that the boy, though of Christian +caste, was to Mhtoon Pah as the apple of his eye, and that he fed him +upon sweets from the vendor's stall. Let it be said, for thy wisdom to +unravel, that therefore Leh Shin felt mirth in his mind, knowing that +the heart of his foe was wrung as the _Dhobie_ wrings the soiled +garment." + +Shiraz fell silent and looked up from the floor at the face of his +master, who got up and stretched himself. + +"Is my bath ready, Shiraz?" + +"All is prepared, though the _pani walla_, a worker of iniquity, steals +the wood for his own burning; therefore, the water is not hot, and ill +is done to the good name of Hartley Sahib's house." + +When he was dressed he strolled into the drawing-room, and sat down at +the piano, playing softly until Hartley came in. + +"Shall you be away long, do you suppose?" he asked, looking with +interest at Coryndon's smooth, black head. + +"I may be, but it is impossible to tell. If I want you, I will send a +message by Shiraz." + +The dinner passed off without incident, and not once did Coryndon open +the secret door of his mind, to add to the strange store of facts he had +gathered there. He wanted nothing from Atkins, who knew less of the Rev. +Francis Heath than he did himself, and he had to sustain his rôle of +ignorance of the country. The two men stayed late, and it seemed to +Coryndon that when men talk they do more than talk, they tell many +things unconsciously. + +Perhaps, if people realized, as Coryndon realized, the value of +restrained speech, we should know less of our neighbours' follies and +weaknesses than we do. There was a noticeable absence of interest in +what anyone else had to say. Atkins had his own foible, Fitzgibbon his, +and Hartley, who knew more of the ways of men, a more interesting, but +not less egoistic platform from which he desired to speak. They seemed +to stalk naked and unashamed before the eyes of the one man who never +gave a definite opinion, and who never asserted his own theories or +urged his own philosophy of life. + +Coryndon listened because it amused him faintly, but he was glad when +the party broke up and they left. What a planet of words it was, he +thought, as he sat in his room and reflected over the day. Words that +ought to carry value and weight, but were treated like so many loose +pebbles cast into void space; and he wondered as he thought of it; and +from wondering at the wordy, noisy world in which he found himself, he +went on to wonder at the greater silence that was so much more powerful +than words. "The value of mystery," was the phrase that presented itself +to his mind. + +During the evening, three men had enjoyed all the pleasure of +self-betrayal, and, from the place where he stood, unable ever to +express anything of his own nature in easy speech, he wondered at them, +with almost childlike astonishment. Fitzgibbon, garrulous and loose of +tongue, Atkins, precise and easily heated to wrath, conscious of some +hidden fear that his dignity was not sufficiently respected, and +Hartley, who had something to say, but who oversaid it, losing grip +because of his very insistence. Not one of them understood the value of +reserve, and all alike strove to proclaim themselves in speech, not +knowing that speech is an unsound vehicle for the unwary, and that +personality disowns it as a medium. + +Out of the mouth of a man comes his own condemnation: let him prosper +who remembers this truth. The value of mystery, the value of silence, +and above all things, the supreme value of a tongue that is a servant +and not a master; Coryndon considered these values and wondered again at +the garrulity of men. Talk, the fluid, ineffectual force that fills the +world with noise, that kills illusions and betrays every latent +weakness; surely the high gods laughed when they put a tongue in the +mouth of man. He pinched his lips together and his eyes lighted with a +passing smile of mirth. + +"In Burma, there are no clappers to the bells," he said to himself. +"Each man must strike hard before sound answers to his hand, and truly +it is well to think of this at times." And, still amused by the fleeting +memory of the evening, he went to bed and slept. + + + + +XV + +IN WHICH THE FURTHERING OF A STRANGE COMRADESHIP IS CONTINUED, AND A +BEGGAR FROM AMRITZAR CRIES IN THE STREETS OF MANGADONE + + +Trade was slack in the shop of Leh Shin, the Chinaman. He had sat in the +odorous gloom and done little else than feel his arms and rub his legs, +for the greater part of the day. His new acquaintance, Shiraz, had taken +over possession of his goods, scrutinizing them with care before he did +so, in case the brass pots had been exchanged in the night for inferior +pots of smaller circumference, and in the end he had departed into his +own rat-burrow, two doors up the street, where his friend the Burman was +already established in a gloomy corner. Leh Shin heard of this through +his assistant, who had followed the coolie into the house, and +investigated the premises as he stood about, with offers of assistance +for his excuse. + +"They have naught with them, save only a box that has no lock upon it, +and also the boxes bought from thy shop, Leh Shin, but these are empty, +for I looked closely, when they talked in the hither room, where they +are minded to live. Jewels, didst thou say? Then that fox with the red +beard has sold them and the money is stored in some place of security." + +"Ah, ah," said the Chinaman, his eyes dull and fixed. + +"And 'ah, ah' to thee," retorted the assistant, who found the response +lacking in interest. "I would I knew where it was hidden." + +With a sudden change of manner he squatted near the ear of Leh Shin and +talked in a soft whisper. + +"Is not the time ripe, O wise old man, is not the hour come when thou +mayst go to the house of the white Sahib and demand a piece for closed +lips?" + +He pursed up his small mouth and pointed at it. + +Leh Shin shook his head. + +"I am already paid, and I will not demand further, lest he, whom we know +of, come no more. Drive not the spent of strength; since the price is +sufficient, I may not demand more, lest I sin in so doing." + +The assistant glared at him with angry eyes. + +"Fool, and thrice fool," he muttered under his breath, but Leh Shin did +not heed him, and did not even appear to hear what he said. For a long +time the old Chinaman seemed wrapped in his thought, and at last he got +up, and leaving the shop, went towards the principal Joss House that +faced the river. + +Coryndon had chosen the empty shop in the Colonnade for two reasons. It +was near Leh Shin, and near the strange assistant, who interested him +nearly as much as Leh Shin himself, and also it had the additional +advantage of being the last house in the block. A narrow alley full of +refuse of every description lay between it and the next block, and the +rickety house had doors that opened to the front, and to the side, and +by way of a dark lane directly from the back, making ingress or egress a +matter of wide choice. + +The shop front was shuttered, and left to the rats and cockroaches, and +up a flight of decrepit and shaky stairs, Shiraz had made what shift he +could to provide comfort for his master in the least dilapidated room in +the house. The walls were thin, and the plaster of the low ceiling was +smoke-grimed and dirty. The "bed of lesser value" was stored away in the +garret that lay beyond, and the prayer-mat was placed alongside the +toil-worn wooden _charpoy_, that was at least fairly clean and had all +four legs intact; and under this bed, the box that held a strange +assortment of clothing was put safely away. At the bottom of another +box, one of those bought by Coryndon himself from Leh Sin's assistant, +Shiraz had laid a suit of tussore silk, a few shirts and collars, and +anything that his master might require if he wished to revisit those +"glimpses of the moon" in the Cantonments; for Shiraz neglected nothing, +and had a genius for detail. + +A hurricane lamp, that threw impartial light upon all sides, stood on a +round table, and lighted the small room, and at one corner Coryndon sat, +clad in his Burmese _loongyi_ and white coat, thinking, his chin on his +folded hands. He had taught himself to think without paper or pens, and +to record his impressions with the same diligent care as though he wrote +them upon paper. He could command his thoughts, and direct them towards +one end and one issue, and he believed that notes were an abomination, +and that, in his Service, memory was the only safe recorder of progress. + +He was fully aware that he was hunting what might well be a cold line, +and he thought persistently of Leh Shin, putting the other possible +issues upon one side. Hartley had allowed himself to be dominated by a +predisposition to account for everything through Heath, and Coryndon +warned himself against falling into the same snare with Leh Shin. He +thought of the Chinaman's shop, and he knew that it was built on the +same plan as his own dwelling. There was no basement, and hardly any +room beyond the open ground-floor apartment and the two upper rooms. +Nowhere, in fact, to conceal anything; and its thin walls could not +contain a single cry for help or prayer for mercy. It was possible to +have drugged the boy and smothered him as he lay unconscious, but unless +the murderers had chosen this method, Absalom could not have met his end +in the Chinaman's shop. There remained the house by the river to +investigate, and there remained hours and days, and possibly weeks, of +close watching, that might reveal some tiny clue, and for that Coryndon +was determined to wait and watch until it lay in the hollow of his palm. + +Acting the part of a man more or less astray in his wits, he wandered +out either late or early, with the vague, aimless step of a dreamer, and +stood about, staring vacantly. Leh Shin's shop attracted him, and he +would squat on the ground either just outside the narrow entrance, or +just within, and, with flaccid, dropping mouth, stare at the hanging +array of secondhand clothes, making himself a source of endless +entertainment for the boy, who found him easy to annoy and distress, and +consequently practised upon him with unwearying pleasure. + +"Wise one, where are the jewels stolen by thy Master?" he asked, +throwing the dregs of his drink over the Burman's bare feet. + +"Jewels, jewels? Nay, friend, jewels are for the rich; for the Raj and +the Prince; I have never seen one to hold in my hand and to consider +closely. As for the Punjabi, he is no master of mine. I did him a +service--nay, I have forgotten what the service was, as I forget all +things, save only the guilt of the evil man, once my friend." + +"Tell me once more thy story." + +The Burman cowered down and whimpered. + +"Since I put it into speech for thy ears, my trouble of mind has grown, +like moonlight in the mist. I may not speak it again. They, yonder, +would hear," he pointed at the clothes, that napped a little in the hot, +heavy wind that came in strong with the scents and smells of the Bazaar. + +"Oh, oh," said the boy, with a crackling laugh. "I will tell them not to +speak or stir. I have power over them, and they shall repeat nothing. +Tell me the story, fool, or I will drive thee from thy corner, and the +children shall throw mud upon thee in the streets." + +Again and again the drama was repeated, and as Coryndon became part of +the day's amusement to Leh Shin's assistant, he grew to know exactly +what both the boy and his master did during the hours of the day. +Unknown and unsuspected, the Burman went in and out as they went in and +out. He appeared at the house by the river, he sat with his legs +dangling over the drop from the Colonnade into the streets, and he wore +out the hours in idleness, the dust of the Bazaar powdering his hair and +griming his face, but behind his vacant eyes, his quick brain was alive +and burning, and he felt after Leh Shin with invisible hands. + +Coryndon was never at the mercy of one idea only, and he began to see, +very soon after he had investigated the two houses--the ramshackle shop +and the riverside den--that if he intended to progress he could not +afford to sit in the street and drink in the café opposite Leh Shin's +dwelling for an interminable space of weeks. He had limitless patience, +but he was quick of action, and saw any flaw in his own system as soon +as a flaw appeared. Leh Shin was suspicious, and took precautions when +he went out at night, and this in itself made it dangerous to be +continually upon his heels in a character he knew and could recognize. +So long as there was anything to gain by remaining in his Burmese +clothing, Coryndon used it, avoiding the Chinaman and cultivating the +society of his assistant, but he soon began to realize that if he were +to follow as closely as he desired, he could not do so in his present +disguise. + +All day he sat watching the crowded street, shivering, though the sun +was warm, and breaking his silence with complaints that the fever was +upon him, and that he was sick, and that he could not eat. He whimpered +and whined so persistently that the assistant drove him off, for he +feared infection, and fancied he might be sickening for the plague. + +"Neither come thou hither, until thou art fully recovered," he added, +"lest I use my force upon thee." + +If a certain beggar who had sat for a whole month outside the Golden +Temple at Amritzar was to become reincarnated in the person of the idiot +Burman, the Burman must have a reason to offer to the inquisitive for +his temporary absence. Sickness is sudden and active in the streets of +any Bazaar, and when Shiraz learnt that he was to keep within the house +and report the various stages of the fever of his friend, he salaamed +and drew out the battered box from under the bed, and folded away the +_loongyi_ and coat with care. + +Coryndon explained his plan of coming and going when the streets were +silent, and when he could do so without being noticed. If he came in the +daytime and asked for alms, Shiraz was to open and call him in to +receive food, but he would only do this in great emergency, as the +beggar did not wish to establish any connection with the Punjabi. If, on +the other hand, it was a matter of necessity for the Burman to reappear, +Shiraz was to walk along the street and bestow alms in the beggar's +bowl; and on the first opportunity Coryndon would return and make the +necessary change. The first difficulty was to get out of the house, and +to be in the street by twilight, when the close operation of watching +would have to begin. + +"The doors of the merciful are ever open to the poor; yet there is great +danger in going out by the way of the Bazaar." + +"There is a closed door at the back that I have well prepared," said +Coryndon, pulling a bit of sacking over his bent shoulders. "Remember +that an oiled hinge opens like the mouth of a wise man." + +The addition of one to the brotherhood of vagrancy that is part of every +Eastern Bazaar calls the attention of no one, and being a newcomer, +Coryndon contented himself with accepting a pitch in a district where +alms were difficult to obtain and small in value, but his humility did +not keep him there long, and he made a place for himself at the top of +Paradise Street, in the shadow of an arched doorway, where a house with +carved shutters and horseshoe windows was slowly mouldering through the +first stages of decay. From here he could see down the Colonnade, and +also watch the shop of Mhtoon Pah, as he alternately cursed or blessed +the passers, according to their gifts or their apathy. + +The heavy, slouching figure of the assistant went by to take up his +master's place in the waterside house, and the beggar wasted no time in +glancing after him. He knew his destination, and had no need to trouble +about the ungainly, walloping creature, who kicked him as he passed. It +was fresh, out in the street, and pleasant, and in spite of his musty +rags and his hidden face, Coryndon enjoyed the change of occupation. + +He saw the place much as it had been on the evening of July the 29th. +Mhtoon Pah came out and sat on his chair, smoking a cheroot, and +observing the street. In a good humour it would appear, for when the +beggar cringed past and sent up his plea for assistance, the curio +dealer felt in his pouched waist-sash and threw him a coin. + +"Be it requited to thee in thy next life, O Shrine-builder," murmured +the beggar, and he squatted down on the ground a little further on. + +He saw Shiraz come out and stand at the door, preparatory to setting +forth to the Mosque. Saw him lock it carefully and proceed slowly and +with great dignity through the crowd. He passed close to the beggar, but +took no notice of him, lifting his garments lest they should touch him, +and for this the beggar cursed him, to the entertainment of those who +listened. + +Blue shadows like wraiths of smoke enfolded the street at the far end, +and the clatter and noise grew stronger as the houses filled after the +day of toil. In one of the prosperous dwellings a gramophone was set +near the window, and the song floated out over the street, the +music-hall chorus from the merchant's house mingled in with the cry of +vendors hawking late wares at cheap prices. + +A hundred years ago, except for the gramophone and an occasional +_gharry_, the street might have been the same. The same amber light that +held only a short while after sunset, the same blue misty shadows, the +same concourse of colour and caste, the same talk of food, and the same +idle, loitering and inquisitive crowd. + +Coryndon watched it with eyes of love. Half of his nature belonged to +this place and was part of it. He understood their idleness, their small +pleasures, their kindness and their cruelty; and though the dominance of +the white race was strongest in him, he loved these half-brothers of his +because he understood them. + +Two young _Hypongyi_ came past where he sat, and as they had nothing +else to give, gave him their blessing and a look of pity. + +"He did ill in his former life," said the elder of the two. "The balance +is adjusted thus, and only thus." + +"Great is the justice of the Law," replied the other, rubbing his shaven +crown reflectively, and then some noise of music or laughter attracted +them and they ran up the street to see what it might be, for they were +young, and there was no reason why they should not enjoy simple +pleasures. + +Coryndon knew that Leh Shin would certainly go to the Joss House that +night, and he knew that upon these occasions the Chinaman prayed long, +and that it would be dark before he entered the place of worship. For +another hour his time was free to watch the street, and without +attaching any particular consequence to the fact, he saw Mhtoon Pah get +up, rub his hands on his knees and lift his chair inside the door, which +he closed with a noise of dragging chains and creaking bolts. + +Slowly the last gleam withdrew, and the dust lost its effect of amber, +and the trees grew dark, and little whispering winds clapped the palm +leaves one on another with a dry, barking sound. Children still screamed +and played, and dogs yelped and offered to show fight, and still people +on foot came and went, and the dusk drew down a veil and the greater +noise subsided into a lower key. + +The beggar was no longer there, his place was empty and he had gone. + + + + +XVI + +IN WHICH LEH SHIN IS BREATHED UPON BY A JOSS, AND EXPERIENCES THE TERROR +OF A MAN WHO TOUCHES THE VEIL BEHIND WHICH THE IMMORTALS DWELL. + + +Of all the savage desires that riot in the hearts of men, the lust of +revenge is probably the strongest. Civilization has done its best to +control and curb wild impulse; but as long as a cruel wrong rankles, or +a fierce longing to square an old account remains, there will be hands +thrust out to take the naked sword of the Lord into their own finite +grasp, and there will be men who will be content to pay the price so +that they may see the desire of their eyes. + +The Oriental has above the white races an illimitable patience in +awaiting his hour for retribution, for the heart of the East does not +forget and can hold a purpose silently through the dust-blown, sunlit +years, waiting for the dawn of the appointed day. + +When Leh Shin set out towards the Joss House, he was repeating a +procedure that had become constant with him of late. He knew that a Joss +was revengeful and terrible in matters of hate, therefore his prayer +would be understood in the strange region of power where the Great Ones +dwelt. His religion was a mixture of the teachings of Buddha, Confucius, +and Shinto, for long absence from his own country and constant +association with the Burmese and Japanese had blended and confused the +original belief that he had learnt in far-away Canton. To this basis was +added the grossest form of superstition, and the wildest fancies of a +brain muddled with the fumes of opium, but the one thing clear to him +was, that a Joss, though an immortal being, was able to comprehend +hatred. + +The gods punished terribly, slaying with plague and pestilence, +destroying life by flood and years of famine, and so Leh Shin knew that +they were very like men, taking full advantage of their fearful power +and punishing the smallest neglect with the utmost rigour. He could +appeal to a great invisible cruel brain and demand assistance for his +own limited desire for revenge, knowing that it was an attribute of +those whose help he sought, but he went in fear, with pricking nerves, +because his belief was strong in the power of the monsters he +worshipped. + +The Joss House stood in a wide street near the river; a stone courtyard +separated it from the thoroughfare, and the building itself was raised +on a terrace, led up to by two shallow flights of steps. The roof was a +marvel of sea-green mosaic, coiled over by dragons with flaming red +tongues and staring glass eyes, each dragon a wonder of fretted fins and +ivory teeth and claws. Upon each of the three roofs was set relief +mosaic, of beautiful workmanship, representing houses and ships and +bridges, with tiny men and women, and little trees, all as small as a +child's plaything, but complete, proportioned and entire. Huge stone +pillars covered with devils and crawling lizards supported the long +portico that ran the full length of the building, and between each +pillar an immense paper lantern gleamed like a dim moon. + +Leh Shin stood outside for a few moments and then plunged in, like a man +who is not sure of his nerve and cannot afford to wait too long lest his +determination to face what lay inside should fail him. On feast days the +Joss House was a gay place, full of lights and people crowding in and +out, and there was no room for fear, for even a Joss is not alarming in +company with many men, but when Leh Shin went in, the place was +deserted, and it seemed to him that the unseen power was terribly near +in the darkness. + +It was a vast, lofty building inside, supported by gold pillars and +black pillars, and in the centre near the door was a tank-shaped well +where pots of flowering plants and palms were set with no particular eye +to regularity or effect. As they shivered and rustled in the dark, they +were full of a suggestion of the fear that made Leh Shin's heart as cold +as a stone in a deep pool. Raised on a jade plinth, a low round pillar +stood directly in front of the rose-red curtains that were drawn across +the sanctuary space, and on the top of the pillar a bronze jar held one +scented stick, that burned slowly, like a winking, drowsy eye, its slow +spiral of incense creeping up into the air and losing itself in the high +arches of the pointed roof. Between the pillar and the sanctuary +itself, was a small table covered with an embroidered shawl, worked in +spangles that glittered and shone, and beneath the table were a number +of smooth stones. + +Leh Shin locked his hands together and passed up the aisle, close to +where the palm trees rustled and stirred, and fear was upon him like +that of a hungry dog. He crossed a line of light cast by some candles, +and it seemed to him that the curtains moved as he approached. The Joss +House was apparently empty, and yet it did not seem empty. Invisible +eyes watched behind the carved screens that shut out the priests' houses +on either side, invisible ears might easily catch the lowest whisper of +his prayer. Soundless impressions of moving things that had no shape +haunted his consciousness, and he started in panic as his own shadow +fell before him when he stepped across the burning candles and slid into +the close alley between the table and the shrine. + +He bent down suddenly and, feeling on the cold marble of the floor, took +up two of the stones and beat them together with the loud clapping noise +which proclaimed a suppliant. Bowed in the close space, he repeated his +prayer the requisite number of times, and it seemed to Leh Shin that the +Joss heard and accepted: the Joss who took visible shape in his mind, +with a face half-human and half-bestial, and who capered with a drawn +sword in his hand. + +Over his head the heavy curtains swayed again, and the tittering noise +from a nest of bats sounded like ghostly laughter. His prayer had drawn +power to his aid, out of the unknown place where the gods live, and +loosed it in response to his cry. He was only Leh Shin, a poor Chinaman +who kept a miserable shop in the native quarter and an opium den down +where the river water choked and gurgled at night, but he felt that he +had touched something in the terrible shadows, and once more he beat the +stones together, his face pouring with sweat. As the noise echoed up +again, the last candle fell dying into a yellow pool of melted wax, and +went out with an expiring flicker; and Leh Shin beat his hands against +the darkness that shut upon him like a wall. He sprang to his feet and +ran, and as he went wings seemed to bear down behind him. There was +terror alive in the Joss House, and before that terror he fled panting +and trembling, fearful that hands would close upon his black garments +and drag him back, holding him until he went mad. As he made for the +door he fancied he saw a shadowy form move in the gloom and clear his +path, and it added the last touch of panic to his mind. + +He leaned against an outer pillar for support, and gradually the noise +of the street drew him back again to reality and to the solid facts of +life once more. He had been badly scared, for in some cases when nothing +that can be expressed in words takes place, an infinitely greater thing, +that no words can express, has occurred mentally. To Leh Shin's +bewildered mind it was clear that he had actually felt a Joss breathe +upon him, and that he had heard its footsteps follow him across the +marble floor; the Joss who had shaken the curtains and extinguished the +candles. + +Still bewildered, Leh Shin crossed the courtyard and sat down on the +kerb; his head swam and he felt along his legs with shaking hands. A +belated fruit seller went by, and he bought a handful of dates, stuck on +a small rod and looking like immense beetles, and as he ate his +confidence in life gradually returned. The Joss was at a safe distance +in his house and there was the street to give courage to his heart; the +street where men walked safe and secure, and where a worse fear than the +fear of death did not prowl secretly. + +After a little while, he got up from the stifling dust and walked slowly +on. The streets flared with lights and the gold letters painted large on +signboards in huge Chinese characters shone out, making a brave show. +There were open restaurants where he could have gone in, and there were +houses of entertainment, hung with paper lanterns, that invited passers +with a sound of music, but Leh Shin continued his mechanical walk, +having another purpose in his mind. + +He turned out of the lighted glare of the shops and struck along a back +alley, where one street lamp gave the sole illumination, and stopping at +a low, arched door cut deep in a wall, he knocked and was admitted. +Inside the entrance was another door heavily clamped with iron, which +gave admission down a long, narrow passage to a room beyond. It was a +small room, not unlike a prison, with heavy iron bars against the +corridors, and it was quite bare of furniture except for two deal +tables, around which a crowd of men stood playing for money with +impassive faces and greedy, grasping hands. There was no mixture of race +among the men who gambled; they were all Chinese, most of them clad in +indigo-blue trousers and tight vests, though some of them wore white +shirts and rakish straw hats. The young men had close-clipped hair and +looked like clever bull-terriers, but the older men wore long pigtails +wound round their heads in black, rope-like coils. The noise of dominoes +thrown out by the man who held the bank and the rattle of dice were +almost the only sounds in the room. + +Under one table there was a small shrine, where a diminutive Joss +presided over the fortunes of Chance, but Leh Shin did not go to it as +was his usual habit before he began to play. He even eyed it uneasily +and kept at the further end of the room. + +He played with varying success for an hour, for two hours, and the third +hour was running out before he shuffled off down the close passage, his +scanty winnings tied in the corner of a rag stuffed into his belt, and +was let out through the heavily barred doors into the street. The +alley-way was deserted, and Leh Shin went down the kennel into the open +place with the walk of a man who has something definite to do. A beggar, +who had been sitting huddled under the wall of a house opposite, craned +his neck out of the shadows, and followed him quickly. + +Leh Shin had passed this last hour deliberately, so as to bring himself +to some appointed place neither earlier nor later than he desired to +get there, and Coryndon woke to the excitement of the chase again as he +followed along the Colonnade. It was easy to walk quickly under the roof +that ran from the entrance down to the turn that led into Paradise +Street, and Leh Shin did not even pause as he passed his own doorway but +made on rapidly until he came out at the far end. The hour was very +late, and the street silent. A drop in the temperature had driven the +sleepers who usually preferred the open to the closeness of walls, +within, and the whole double row of houses slept with gaping windows and +open doors. + +Mhtoon Pah's curio shop was entirely closed. Every window had outer +shutters fastened, and no gleam of light showed anywhere, up or down the +high narrow front. When Leh Shin stopped in front of the doorway the +beggar sat down opposite to him a little further down the street, his +head bowed on his bosom. He watched Leh Shin prowl carefully round and +climb with monkey-like agility from the rails to the window-ledge, where +he peered in through the shutters, raising a broken lath to see into the +interior. + +Coryndon watched him with intent interest. The night was moonless, he +knew that if a match were struck in the interior of the shop it would +shine through the raised lath, and it was for that sight that his eyes +strained and ached with intense concentration. The patience of the +Chinaman made Coryndon feel that he was watching for something definite +to happen, and at length a yellow bar cut suddenly across the dark. +Coryndon's heart beat so loud that he feared its sound might be heard +across the narrow street, and he gripped his hands together. The curio +shop was no longer dark, for someone had come in with a lamp; Coryndon +crept forward, his eyes on the Chinaman, who had slipped back on to the +ground and had raced up the steps, beating against the door violently. + +"Come out, father of lies, come out and speak with me. I have news of +thy Absalom." + +The beggar was at the foot of the steps now, close beside the dancing +image, who smiled and called his attention to the rigid figure of Leh +Shin. + +"So thou hast news for me, unclean one? Of this shall the police hear +full knowledge two hours after dawn. Where hast thou hidden the body of +the boy who was the light of mine eyes, who was ever eager and honest in +business?" + +"Thou knowest, traitor," said the Chinaman, his voice hoarse with +passion, "what is dark unto others is clear unto me. Have I not the tale +of thy years written in the book of my mind?" + +For a moment there was dead silence, and then a voice full of smooth +malice and cruelty made answer to Leh Shin. + +"Get thee to thy bed, fool." + +"I wait," Leh Shin's voice cracked and trembled, "and when the hour that +is already written for thy destruction comes like the night-bat, it is +_I_ who shall proclaim it to thee; thus I have demanded, and thus it +shall fall out." + +"O fruitful boaster, O friend of many years, thy words cause me great +mirth. Get thee to thy kennel, lest I do indeed come forth and twist thy +vulture's neck." + +A laugh of scorn was the only response to Mhtoon Pah's threat, and the +Chinaman turned and came down the steps. + +"Alms, alms," whined a sleepy voice. "The poor are the children of the +Holy One. I am blind and I know not the faces of men. Alms, alms, that +thy merit may be written in the book." + +"Ask of him that is in that house," said Leh Shin, pointing to the curio +shop. "Strike him with thy pestilence that his fatness fall from him and +his bones melt, and I will give thee golden rewards." + +The secret passion of the words was so intense that the beggar was +silenced, and Leh Shin passed on. He went from Paradise Street to a +small burrow near the Colonnade, and turned into a mean house where the +paper lantern still burned in token that the owners were awake. It was +quite clean inside, and divided into large cubicles. In each cubicle was +a table, covered with oilcloth, at the head of which was placed a red +lacquer pillow and a little glass lamp that gave the only light needed +in the long, low room. On the tables lay Burmen and Chinamen, some rigid +in drugged sleep, and some smoking immense pipes with small, cup-like +receptacles that held the opium. The proprietor was alert and wakeful as +he flitted about, an American cigarette between his lips, in this +strange garden of sleep. + +"I am weary," said Leh Shin. "Let me rest here." + +"It is great honour," replied the small, wizened old man, with the +laugh. "What of thine own house by the river?" + +"My limbs fail me. To-night my assistant supplies the needs of those who +ask, for I had a business." + +"And I trust thy business hath prospered with thee?" + +Leh Shin stretched himself out on a table near the door. + +"I await the hour of prosperity,"--he twisted a needle in the brown mass +that was offered to him and held it over the lamp. "Evil are the days of +a life whilst an old grudge burns like hot charcoal in the heart." + +"It is even so," agreed the proprietor, and he hurried away from the +noose of talk that Leh Shin would have cast around him. + +The beggar, having followed Leh Shin as far as the opium den, returned +along the Colonnade and knocked at the door of the house where Shiraz +waited anxiously for his master. + +"Is my bath prepared, Shiraz? I must wash before I sleep, and I shall +sleep late." + +Coryndon was weary. No one who has not watched through hours of strain +and suspense knows the utter weariness of mind and body that follows +upon the long effort of close attention, and he fell upon his bed in a +huddled heap and slept for hour after hour, worn out in brain and body. + + + + +XVII + +TELLS HOW CORYNDON LEARNS FROM THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH WHAT THE REV. +FRANCIS HEATH NEVER TOLD HIM. + + +When Coryndon sat up in his bed, and recalled himself with a jerk from +the drowsiness of night to the wakefulness of broad daylight, he called +Shiraz to give to him instructions. + +After dark, his master told him, he was going to return to the +Cantonments, and during his absence there were some matters which he had +decided to leave unreservedly in the hands of Shiraz. He was to +cultivate his acquaintance with Leh Shin, the Chinaman, worming his way +into his confidence and encouraging him to speak fully of the old hatred +that was still like live fire between him and the wealthy curio dealer. +Revenge may or may not take the shape and substance of the original +wrong done, and the limited intelligence of the Chinaman would suggest +payment in the same coin, so it was necessary for Coryndon to know the +actual facts of the ancient grudge. Further than this, Shiraz was to go +to the shop of Mhtoon Pah, and discover anything he could in the course +of conversation with the Burman. + +"Mark well all that is said, that when I return it may be disclosed to +mine eyes through thy spectacles," he concluded, tying the ragged ends +of his head-scarf over his forehead. + +He went down the staircase with a slow, dragging step, leaning on the +rail of the Colonnade when he got out into the street, and halting, with +a vacant stare, outside the shop of Leh Shin. + +"So thy devils have not yet caught thee and scalded thee with oil, or +burned thee in quicklime?" jeered the boy, as he watched a coolie sweep +out the shop. + +He was chewing a raw onion, and he swung his legs idly, for there was +nothing to do, and, on the whole, he was glad to have the mad Burman to +bait for half an hour's entertainment. + +"The sickness is heavy upon me, my legs are loaded as with wet sand, and +my mouth is parched like a rock in the desert," whined the Burman +plaintively. + +"Nay, nay, not _thy_ legs, and _thy_ tongue. The legs and the mouth of +the evil man, thy friend, O dolt." + +The Burman shook his head stupidly. + +"The will of the Holy Ones is that I shall recover, and my friend has +said that I shall go a journey. I go by the terrain this night at +sunset." + +"Whither doth he send thee, unclean one?" + +The Burman smiled with a sudden look of cunning. + +"That is a word unspoken, and neither will I tell it. Thy desire to know +what concerns thee not is as great as thy fatness." + +With a doggedness that is often part of some forms of mania, the Burman +squatted in the dust, and under no provocation could he be induced to +speak. After midday he indicated by lifting his fingers to his mouth +that he intended to go in search of food; having worked Leh Shin's +assistant into a state of perspiring wrath by the simple process of +reiterating in pantomime that he was dumb. It must be admitted that +Coryndon got no small amount of pleasure out of his morning's +entertainment, and he doubled himself up as though in pain as he dragged +himself back to the house. + +The vanished beggar's tracks were entirely obliterated, and when the +Burman went off in a _gharry_ in company with Shiraz, the whole street +knew that he was being sent away on a secret mission of great +importance. + +To know something that other people do not know is to be in some way +their superior. It is a popular fallacy to believe that we all of us are +gifted with special insight. The dullest bore believes it of himself, +but when it comes to the possession of an absolute fact superiority +becomes unmistakable, particularly in circumscribed localities, and Leh +Shin's assistant remembered how the sudden dumbness of the crazy Burman +had irked his own soul. He told a little of what he professed to know, +and having done so, refused to admit more, and so it was current in the +Bazaar that the friend of the rich Punjabi was gone to receive money +paid for jewels, and that the place of his destination was known only to +Leh Shin's assistant, who, having sworn on oath, would by no means +divulge the name of the place. + +Even Leh Shin, who awoke late, appeared interested, and asked questions +that made the gross, flabby boy think hard before he replied; and the +mystery that attached itself to the departure of the Burman lent an +added interest to Shiraz, who returned after the usual hour of prayer at +the Mosque, and paced slowly up the street, meditating upon a verse from +the Koran. The evening light softened and the shadows grew long, making +the Colonnade dark a full hour before the street outside was wrapped in +the smoky gloom of twilight and the charcoal fires were lighted to cook +the evening meal, and by the time that the first clear globes of +electric light dotted Paradise Street Coryndon was back in his room and +dressed ready to go out to dinner. + +Hartley received the wanderer with enthusiasm, and began at once by +telling him that he had an invitation for him which was growing stale by +long keeping. Mrs. Wilder was giving a very small party and both the +Head of the Police and his friend were invited. + +"I accepted definitely for myself, and conditionally for you," said +Hartley cheerfully. "Now I will ring up Wilder and tell him that the +prodigal has reappeared, and that you will come." + +Coryndon submitted to the inevitable with a good grace; it was one of +his best social qualifications, and arose from a keen sensitiveness that +made it nearly impossible for him ever to disappoint anyone. He had +hoped for a quiet evening, when he might expect to get to bed early and +have time to think over every tiny detail of his time in the Mangadone +Bazaar; but as this was not possible, he agreed with sufficient alacrity +to deceive his kind host. + +His face was drawn and tired, and his eyes were heavy; he noticed this +as he glanced into his glass, but after all it did not matter. His +social importance was small, and for to-night he was nothing more than +an adjunct of Hartley, a mere postscript put in out of formal +politeness. He was not going in order to please Mrs. Wilder--though, as +she appeared on his mental list of names, she had her place in the +structure that filled his mind--but to please Hartley. Any time would +have done for Mrs. Wilder, she was but a cypher in the total, but if he +had begged off to-night he would have had to hurt Hartley. Coryndon +could never get away from the other man's point of view; it dogged him +in great things and in small, and he was obliged to realize Hartley's +pleasure in seeing him, and his further pleasure in carrying him off to +a house where he himself enjoyed life thoroughly. Coryndon could as +easily have disappointed a child, or been cruel to a small, wagging +puppy as to Hartley in his present mood. + +He knew that he would have to shut the door upon his dominating thought, +unless something occurred to open it during the evening. Women liked to +play with fire, and he wondered if Mrs. Wilder would show any +inclination to fiddle with gunpowder, but he hardly expected that she +would, though she had played some part in the extensive drama that +reached from Heath's bungalow to the Colonnade in the Chinese quarter, +leaving a gap between that his brain struggled with in vain. + +It was like the imaginable space between life and death, where both +conditions existed, and one was the key to the other. Something was +lacking. One small master touch wanting to lay the whole thing bare of +mystery. Coryndon's weary eyes reflected the state of his mind. He felt +like an inventor who is baffled for the lack of a tiny clue that makes +the impossible natural and easy, or a composer who hears a refrain and +cannot call it into birth in clear defiant chords. To think too much +when thought cannot carry the mind over the limiting barrier is to spend +substance on fruitless effort, and Coryndon deliberately shut the door +of his mind and put the key away before he started out with Hartley. + +The night was clear as the two men went off together hatless through the +soft moonlight. Neither Coryndon nor Hartley talked much as they walked +by a short cut across the park to the Wilders' bungalow, a servant +carrying a lantern going before them like a dim will-o'-the-wisp; the +yellow lamplight paling into an ineffectual blur against the clear +moonlight. + +"I think it is only ourselves," said Hartley after a long pause. "You +are looking a bit done, Coryndon, so you'll be glad if it isn't a late +night." + +Coryndon agreed, and conversation flagged again. They crossed the road, +turned up the avenue and were lost in the shadows of the trees, coming +out again into a white bay of light outside the door. + +Everyone, man or woman, who is endowed at birth with a sensitive nature +is subject to occasional inrushes of detachment that without warning cut +him off from realities for moments or hours, converting everyday matters +into the consistency of dream-life. It was through this medium that +Coryndon saw Mrs. Wilder when he came into the large upstairs +drawing-room. It would have annoyed her to know that she appeared +indefinite and shadowy to his mind, just as it annoyed Alice when she +was told that she was only "Something in the Red King's dream," but +Coryndon could not help his sensations. Mrs. Wilder was smiling with her +careless, easy, confident smile, and yet he saw only an unaccounted bit +of the puzzle, that he could not fit in. She was dressed in the latest +fashion, and talked with a kind of regal amiability, but nevertheless, +she was not a real woman, a real hostess, or a positive entity; she was +vague, and the touch of her floating personality added to the baffled +sensation that drained Coryndon's mind of concentrated force, and made +him physically exhausted. + +Wilder had something to say to Hartley, and Coryndon handed himself over +like a coat or an umbrella to Mrs. Wilder, who, he knew, was placing a +low valuation upon him, and was already a little impatient at his lack +of vitality. She was calling him a bore, behind her fine, hard eyes, and +having exhausted Mangadone in a few sentences, wondered what sort of +bore he really was. There were golf bores, fishing bores, and shooting +bores, but Coryndon hardly appeared to belong to any of those families, +and she began to suspect him of "superiority," a type of bore aggressive +to others of his cult. Mrs. Wilder did not tolerate a type to which she +herself undoubtedly owned to some slight connection, and she gave up all +effort to awaken interest in the slim, weary young man, who looked +half-asleep. + +"Mr. Heath ought to be here directly," she said, in her loud, clear +voice. "Draycott, don't forget to ask him to say grace." + +If she had got up and taken Coryndon by the shoulders and shaken him, +the effect could not have been more marked and sudden. All the dull +feeling of detachment cleared off at once, and he knew that his senses +were sharp and acute; his bodily fatigue fell away, and as he moved in +his chair his eyes turned towards the door. + +"I wish he would hurry," growled Wilder, a prey to the pessimism of the +half-hour before dinner. "He is inexcusably late as it is." + +As though his words had summoned the Rev. Francis Heath, footsteps +mounting the staircase followed Wilder's remark, and the clergyman came +into the room. Immediately upon his coming, conversation became general, +and a few moments later the party was seated round a small table kept +for intimate gatherings, and placed in the centre of the large +teak-panelled room. An arrangement of plumbago and maidenhair, and pale +blue shaded candles casting a dim light, carried out the saxe blue +effect that Mrs. Wilder had evolved with the assistance of a ladies' +paper that dealt with "effective and original table decoration." + +In spite of Mrs. Wilder's efforts, assisted as they were by Hartley, +conversation flagged for the first two courses. Heath was not exactly +awkward, but he was conscious of the fact that he and Hartley had had an +unpleasant interview, buried by the passing of a few weeks, but by no +means peaceful in its grave. There was just a suggestion of strain in +his manner, and he was evidently carrying through a duty in being there +at all, rather than out for pleasant society. + +Coryndon observed him carefully, particularly when he talked to his +hostess. If she was helping to screen him, the clergyman was too honest +not to show some sign of gratitude either in his manner or in his +deep-set eyes, and yet no such indication was evident. Coryndon +disassociated his mind from the history of the case, and saw austerity +flavoured with a near approach to disapproval. Judging by externals, the +Rev. Francis Heath held no very exalted opinion of his hostess. + +"She has done nothing for him," he said to himself. "If obligation +exists, it is the other way round," and he proceeded to watch Mrs. +Wilder's manner towards her clerical guest with heightening interest. + +Usually she was very sure of herself, more especially so in her own +house, and surrounded with the evidences of her husband's official rank. +When Mrs. Wilder talked to the poor, insignificant Padré who could be of +no real social assistance to her, she changed her manner, the manner +that she directed pointedly towards Coryndon, and became quelled and +softened. + +Mrs. Wilder, propitiatory and diffident, was, Coryndon felt, Mrs. Wilder +caught out somehow and somewhere; perhaps on the night of the 29th of +July, and as he considered it, Coryndon knew that the shoe was on a much +smaller foot than Hartley had measured for it, and that the secret +understanding between Heath and Mrs. Wilder was one-sided in its +benefits. + +Hartley had recounted the story of the fainting fit as a landmark by +which he remembered where he was himself, and, adding this fact to what +he observed, Coryndon put Mrs. Wilder on one side and mentally drew a +red-ink line under her total. He knew all he needed to know about her, +and she had no further interest for his mind. He talked to her husband +when once he had satisfied himself definitely, and as dinner wore on the +atmosphere became more genial and less strained than when it had begun. + +"By the way," said Wilder carelessly, "was it ever discovered how that +fellow Rydal got clear of the country?" + +He spoke to Hartley, but Heath, who had been talking across the table to +Coryndon, lost his place, stumbled and recovered himself with +difficulty, and then lapsed into silence. Hartley had a few things to +say about Rydal, but chief among them was the astounding fact that he +had dodged the police, who were watching the wharves and jetties, and, +so far as he knew, the man had never left Mangadone. + +"Do you suppose that he got away disguised?" + +"Impossible," said Hartley, with decision. "He was a big, fair +Englishman with blue eyes. Nothing on earth could have made him look +anything else. It was too risky to attempt that game." + +Mrs. Wilder was not interested in Rydal, and she sprayed Coryndon with +light, pointless conversation, leaving Heath to his meditations for the +moment. Hartley would have enjoyed a private talk with his hostess +because he loved her platonically, and because it was impossible he was +distrait and jerky, trying to appear cordial towards Heath. It was one +of those evenings that make everyone concerned wonder why they ever +began it, and though Coryndon was of all the invited guests the one who +found least favour in the eyes of his hostess, he was the only one who +felt glad that he had come, and was perfectly convinced that it had been +worth it. + +The Rev. Francis Heath rose early to take his leave; and there was a +distinct impression of relief when he had gone. + +"That Padré is like wet blotting-paper," said Wilder, when he came back +into the drawing-room. "No more duty invitations, Clarice, or else wait +until I am out in camp." + +"He is a bore," said Mrs. Wilder, throwing her late guest to the sharks +without remorse. "But I suppose he can't help it. He may have something +to worry him." She just indicated her point with a glance at Hartley, +who murmured incoherently and became interested in his drink. + +"Parsons are all alike," said Wilder, who fully believed that he stated +an obvious fact. "I feel as if I ought to apologize for not going to +church whenever I meet one." + +"He _is_ a bore," repeated Mrs. Wilder. "But he is finished with for the +present." + +Coryndon looked up. + +"I suppose one is inclined to mix up a man with his profession, as +people often mix up nationalities with races, forgetting that they are +absolutely apart. Heath is not my idea of a clergyman." + +"And what is your idea?" asked Mrs. Wilder, with a smile that was +slightly encouraging. + +"A man with less temperament," said Coryndon slowly. "Heath lacks a +certain commonplace courage, because he feels things too much. He is not +altogether honest with himself or his congregation, because he has the +protective instinct over-developed. If I had a secret I should feel that +it was perfectly safe with Heath." + +A slow red stain showed itself on Mrs. Wilder's cheek, and she gave a +hard, mechanical laugh. + +"Are these the deductions of one evening? No wonder you are a silent +man, Mr. Coryndon." + +If Coryndon had been a cross-examining counsel instead of a guest at a +dinner-party, he would have thanked Mrs. Wilder politely and told her +that she might "step down." As it was, he assured her that he was only +attracted by certain personalities, and that, usually speaking, he did +not analyse his impressions. + +"He is a bore," said Mrs. Wilder, making the statement for the third +time that evening, and thus disposing of Heath definitely. + +"It wasn't up to the usual mark," said Hartley, half-apologetically as +he and Coryndon walked home together. "I felt so awkward about meeting +Heath." He paused and looked at Coryndon, longing to put a question to +him, but not wishing to break their agreement as to silence. + +"Tell me about Rydal," said Coryndon in the voice of a man who shifts a +conversation adroitly. "I don't remember your having mentioned the +case." + +Hartley had not much to tell. The man had been in a position of +responsibility in the Mangadone Bank, and Joicey had given information +against him the very day he absconded. Rydal was married, and the cruel +part of the story lay in the fact that he had deserted his wife on her +deathbed, fully aware that she was dying. + +"She died the evening he left, or was supposed to have left. At all +events, the evening he disappeared." + +"And the date?" + +Coryndon's eyes were turned on Hartley's face, and he heard him laugh. + +"You'll hardly believe it, but it happened, like everything else, on the +twenty-ninth of July." + +"Can your boy look after me for a few days?" Coryndon asked quietly. "I +was not able to bring my bearer with me, and I may have to be here for a +little longer than I had expected." + +"Of course he can." + +They walked into the bungalow together, and it surprised and distressed +Hartley to see how white and weary the face of his friend showed under +the hanging lamp. + +"I ought not to have dragged you out," he said remorsefully. + +"I am very glad you did." + +There was so much sincerity in Coryndon's tone that Hartley was +satisfied, and he saw him into his room before he went off, whistling to +his dog and calling out a cheery "Good night." + + + + +XVIII + +THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH UNLOCKS HIS DOOR AND SHOWS WHAT LIES BEHIND + + +When Coryndon made up his mind to any particular course of action and +time pressed, he left nothing to chance. Under ordinary circumstances, +he was perfectly ready to wait and let things happen naturally; and so +greatly did he adhere to this belief in chance that he always hesitated +to make anything deliberately certain. Had he felt that he could allow +time to bring circumstance into his grasp, he would have preferred to do +so, but, as he sat on the side of his bed, his _chota haziri_ untouched +on a table at his elbow, he knew that every minute counted, and that he +must come out of the shadow and deliberately face and force the +position. + +If he could always have worked in the dark he would have done so, and no +one ever guessed how unwillingly he disclosed himself. He was a shadow +in the great structure of criminal investigation, and he came and went +like a shadow. When it was possible he vanished out of his completed +case before his agency was detected, and as he sat thinking, he wondered +if Hartley could not be trusted with the task that lay before him that +day, but even as the thought came into his mind he decided against it. +Opportunity must be nailed like false coin to the counter, and there +could be no question of leaving a meeting to the last moment of chance. +He had to make sure of his man; that was the first step. + +During the course of an idle morning, Coryndon wandered to the church, +and saw that at 5.30 p.m. the Rev. Francis Heath was holding service. +After the service there would be a choir practice, and Coryndon, having +made a mental note of the hour, went back to luncheon with Hartley. + +The afternoon sunlight was dreaming in the garden, and the drowsy air +was full of the scent of flowers. Coryndon had something to do, and he +was wise enough to make no settled plan as to how he would do it, +beforehand. He put away all thought of Absalom and the other lives +connected with the disappearance of the Christian boy, and let his +thoughts drift out, drawing in the light and colour of the world +outside. + +Yesterday has power over to-day; to-morrow even greater power, for +to-morrow holds a gift or a whip, and Coryndon knew this, thinking out +his little philosophy of life. To be able to handle a situation which +may require a strength that is above tact or diplomacy, he knew that all +those yesterdays must give their store of gathered strength and +knowledge. + +As there was no running water to watch, Coryndon watched the shadows and +the light playing hide-and-go-seek through the leaves, through his +half-closed eyes. They made a pattern on the ground, and the pattern was +faultless in its beauty. Nature alone can do such things. He looked at +the far-off trees of the park, green now, to turn into soft blue masses +later on when the day waned, and the intrinsic value of blue as colour +flitted over his fancy. The music that was part of his nature rippled +and sang in obligato to his thoughts, and because he loved music he +loved colour and knew the connection between sound and tint. Colour, to +its lightest, least value, was music, expressing itself in another way. + +Hartley went out with his dog; went softly because he believed his +friend slept, and Coryndon did not stir. Somewhere in the centre of +things actual, Hartley lived his cheerful, happy life, dreaming when he +was lonely of the woman who darned his socks and smiled at him. In +Coryndon's life there was no woman either visionary or real, and he +wondered why he was exempt from these natural dreams of a man. He was +very humble about himself. He knew that he was only a tracker, a brain +that carried a body, not a healthy animal body that controlled the +greater part of a brain. He was given the power to grip motives and to +read hearts, and beyond that he only lived in his fingers when he +played. He had his dreams for company when he shut the door on the other +half of his active brain, and he had his own thrills of excitement and +intense joy when he found what he was seeking, but beyond this there was +nothing, and he asked for nothing. Blue shadows, and a drifting into +peace, that was the end. He pulled himself together abruptly, for it was +five o'clock, and time for him to start. + +When Coryndon had drunk some tea, he started out on foot to St. Jude's +Church. He knew that he would get there in time to find the Rev. Francis +Heath. The choir practice did not take very long, and as he walked into +the church they were singing the last verses of a hymn. Heath sat in one +of the choir pews, a sombre figure in his black cassock, listening +attentively. + + "Happy birds that sing and fly + Round Thy altars, O Most High." + +The choir sang the "Amen," and sang it false, because they were in a +hurry to troop out of the church; the girls were whispering and +collecting gloves and books, and the boys were already clattering off +with an air of relief. Heath spoke to the organist, making some +suggestion in his grave, quiet voice, and when he turned, Coryndon was +standing in the chancel. + +"Can I speak to you for a moment?" he asked easily. + +"Come into the vestry," said Heath quietly. "We shall be undisturbed +there." + +He went down the chancel steps and opened a door at the side, waiting +for Coryndon to go in, and closing the door behind them. A table stood +in the middle of the room with a few books and papers on it, and a +square window lighted it from the western wall; there were only two +chairs in the room, and Heath put one of them near the table for his +visitor, and took the other himself. + +He did not know what he expected Coryndon to say; men very rarely came +to him like this, but he felt that it was possible that he was in +search of something true and definite. Truth was in his eyes, and his +dark, fine face was earnest as he bent forward and looked full at the +clergyman. + +"What can I do for you?" + +Heath put the question tentatively, conscious of a sudden quick tension +in the atmosphere. + +Coryndon's eyes fixed on him, like gripping hands, and he leaned a +little over the table. + +"You can tell me how and when you got Rydal out of the country." + +For a moment, it seemed to Heath that the whole room rocked, and that +blackness descended upon him in waves, blotting out the face of the man +who asked the question, destroying his identity, and leaving him only +the knowledge that the secret that he had guarded with all the strength +of his soul was known, inexplicably, to Hartley's friend. He tried to +frame a reply, but his words faltered through dry lips, and his face was +white and set. + +"Why should you say that I helped Rydal?" + +"Because," Coryndon's answer came quickly, "you told me so yourself last +night at dinner." + +He heard Coryndon speak again, very slowly, so that every word came +clear into the confusion of his throbbing brain. + +"I knew from Hartley that you were in Paradise Street on the evening of +the twenty-ninth of July, and that you saw and spoke to Absalom. I am +concerned in the case of finding that boy or his murderer, and anything +you can tell me may be of help to me in putting my facts together. I had +to come to your confidence by a direct question. Will you pardon me +when you consider my motive? I am not concerned with Rydal: my case is +with Absalom." + +He looked sympathetically at the worn, drawn face across the table, that +was white and sick with recent fear. + +"Tell me the events just as they came," he said gently. "You may be able +to cast light on the matter." + +Heath looked up, and his eyes expressed his silent acceptance of +Coryndon's honesty of purpose. + +"I will tell you, Mr. Coryndon. God knows that the case of this boy has +haunted me night and day. He was my best pupil, and when Hartley accused +me by inference, of complicity, I suffered as I believe few men have had +to suffer because I could not speak. I may not be able to assist you +very far, but all I know you shall know if you will listen to me +patiently." + +Heath relapsed into silence for some little time, and when he spoke +again it was with the manner of a man who gives all his facts +accurately. He omitted no detail and he set the story of Rydal before +Coryndon, plainly and clearly. + +Rydal had been a clerk in the Mangadone Bank, and had been in the place +for some years before he went home and returned with a wife. He was an +honest and kindly young fellow and he worked hard. There was no flaw in +his record, and Heath believed that he was under the influence of a very +genuine religious feeling. He frequently came to see Heath, who knew his +character thoroughly, and knew that he was weak in many respects. He +talked enthusiastically of the girl he was going to marry, and Heath saw +him off on the liner when Rydal got his leave and, full of glad +anticipation, went away to bring out his wife. + +When the clergyman had reached this point in his story, he got up and +paced the floor a couple of times, his monkish face sad and troubled, +and his eyes full of the tragic revelations that had yet to be made. + +Coryndon did not hurry the narrative. He was engaged in calling up the +mental presentment of the young happy man. Heath had described him as +"fresh-looking," and had said that his manner was frank and always +kindly; he was friendly to weakness, kindly to weakness, his virtues all +tagged off into inefficient lack of grip; but he was honest and he found +life good. That was how Rydal had started, that was the Rydal who had +gripped Heath's hand as he stood on the deck of the _Worcestershire_ and +thought of the girl whom he was going home to marry. + +"I still see him as I saw him then," said Heath, with a catch in his +voice. "He was so sure of all the good things of life, and he had +managed to save enough to furnish the bungalow by the river. I had gone +over it with him the day before he sailed, and his pride in it all was +very touching." + +Coryndon nodded his head, and Heath took up the story again, standing +with his hands on the back of the chair. + +"Rydal came back at the end of three months, his wife with him. She was +a pretty, silly creature, and her ideas of her social importance were +out of all keeping with Rydal's humble position in the Bank. She dressed +herself extravagantly, and began to entertain on a scale that was +ridiculous considering their poverty. Before their marriage, Rydal had +told me that it was a love match, and that she was as poor as he, as all +her own people could do for her was to make a small allowance sufficient +for her clothes." + +Coryndon sat very still. Heath had come to the point where the real +interest began: he could see this on the sad face that turned towards +the western window. + +"In the early hours of one morning towards the end of July," went on +Heath wearily, "I was awakened by Rydal coming into my room. I could see +at once that he was in desperate trouble, and he sat down near me and +hid his face in his hands and cried like a child. There was enough in +his story to account for his tears, God knows. His wife was ill, perhaps +dying; he told me that first, but that I already knew, and then he made +his confession to me. He had embezzled money from the bank and it could +only be a matter of hours before a warrant was issued for his arrest. I +must not dwell too long on these details, but they are all part of the +story, and without them you could not understand my own place in what +follows. It is sufficient to tell you that I returned at once with him, +and his wife added her appeal to mine to make her husband agree to leave +the country. If she lived, she could join him later, but if he was +arrested before she died, she could only feel double torment and +remorse. In the end we prevailed upon him to agree to go. The sin was +not his morally"--Heath's voice rose in passionate vindication of his +act--"in my eyes, and, I believe, in the eyes of God, the man was not +responsible. I grant you his criminal weakness, I grant you his fall +from honour and honesty, but then and now I know that I did right. The +one chance for his soul's welfare was the chance of escape. Prison would +have broken and destroyed him. A white man among native criminals. His +life had been a good life, and an open, honest life up to the time that +his wife's constant demand for what he could not give broke down the +barriers and made him a felon." + +He wiped his face with his handkerchief and drew a deep breath. This was +how he had argued the point with himself, and he still held to the +validity of his argument. + +"That was early on the morning of July the twenty-ninth?" asked +Coryndon. + +"Yes, that was the date. There was a small tramp in port, going to South +America. I had once been of some little assistance to the captain, and I +knew that he would do much to serve me. I went on board her at once, and +saw him, disguising none of the facts or the risk it entailed, and he +agreed willingly to assist Rydal. He was to be at a certain point below +the wharves that evening, and the _Lady Helen_ was to send a boat in to +pick him up." + +"I understand," said Coryndon, "the warrant was issued about noon the +same day?" + +"As far as I know, Joicey gave information against him just about then, +but he had already left the bungalow. I went down Paradise Street to +make my way out along the river bank at a little after six o'clock. I +passed Absalom in the street and spoke a word to the boy, but time was +pressing and I did not dare to be late. It was of the utmost importance +that there should be no hitch in any part of the plan, for the _Lady +Helen_ could not delay over an hour. I got to the appointed place by the +river just after twilight had come on--" + +"Were you seen by anyone?" + +Heath paused and thought for a moment. + +"I would like to deal entirely candidly with you, Mr. Coryndon, but, +with your permission, I must avoid any mention of names. As it happened, +I _was_ seen, but I believe that the person who saw me has no connection +with either my own place in this story or the story itself so far as it +affects Absalom. I saw Rydal go. He went in silence, an utterly +broken-hearted and ruined man, and only ten months divided that day from +the day that he stood on the deck of the _Worcestershire_ filled with +every hope the heart of a man knows. Behind him, his wife lying near +death in the little house his love had provided for her, and nothing lay +before him but utter desolation. I watched the boat take him away into +the darkness, and I saw the lights of the _Lady Helen_ quite clearly, +and then I saw her move slowly off, and I knew that Rydal was safe." + +He paused and stared into the darkness of the room, seeing the whole +picture again, and feeling the awful misery of the broken man who had +gone by the way of transgressors. The man who had once been +light-hearted and happy, who had sung in his choir, and who had read the +lessons for the Rev. Francis Heath and helped him with his boys. + +Coryndon's face showed his tense, close interest as the clergyman spoke +again. + +"I was standing there for some time, how long I do not know, when I saw +that I was not alone, and that I was being watched by a Chinaman. I knew +the boy by sight, and must have seen him before somewhere else. He was a +large, repulsive creature, and appeared to have come from one of the +houses near the river, where there are Coringyhis and low-caste natives +of India. At the time I remarked nothing, but when the boy saw that he +had attracted my attention, he started into a run, and left me without +speaking. The incident was so trifling that it hardly made me uneasy. No +one had seen me actually with Rydal--" + +"You are quite clear on that point? Not even the other person you +alluded to?" + +"I can be perfectly clear. I passed the other person going in the +opposite direction, before I joined Rydal. On the way back I saw Absalom +again, and he was with the Chinaman whom I already mentioned; they did +not notice me, and they were talking eagerly; my mind was overful of +other things, and you will understand that I did not think of them then, +but, as far as I remember, they went towards the fishermen's quarter on +the river bank. I cannot be sure of this." + +Coryndon did not stir; the gloom was deep now, and yet neither of the +men thought of calling for lights. + +"And the Chinaman?" + +Heath flung out his arms with a violent gesture. + +"He had seen and recognized Rydal, and he had the craftiness to realize +that his knowledge was of value. Next day everyone in Mangadone knew +that the hue and cry was out after the absconded clerk. He had betrayed +his trust, cheated and defrauded his employers, and left his wife to die +alone, for she died that night, and I was with her. That was the story +in Mangadone. It was known in the Bazaar, and how or when it came to the +ears of the Chinaman I cannot tell you, but out of his knowledge he came +to me, and I paid him to keep silence. He has come several times of +late, and I will give him no more money. Rydal is safe. I have heard +from him, and the law will hardly catch him now. I know my complicity, I +know my own danger, but I have never regretted it." Again the surging +flood of passion swept into Heath's voice. "What is my life or my +reputation set against the value of one living soul? Rydal is working +honestly, his penitence is no mere matter of protestation, his whole +nature has been strengthened by the awful experience he has passed +through. How it may appear to others I cannot say, and do not greatly +care. In the eyes of God I am vindicated, and stand clear of blame." + +He towered gaunt against the light from the window behind him, and +though Coryndon could not see his face, he knew that it was lighted with +a great rapture of self-denial and spiritual glory. + +"You need fear no further trouble from the boy," he said, rising to his +feet. "I can tell you that definitely. I am neither a judge nor a +bishop, Mr. Heath, but I can tell you honestly from my heart that I +think you were justified." + +He went out into the darkness that had come black over the evening +during the hour he had sat with Heath, and as he walked back to the +bungalow he thought of the man he had just left. There had been no need +for Coryndon to question him about Mrs. Wilder: her secret mission to +the river interested him no further. Heath had protected her and had +kept silence where her name was concerned, and yet she chose to belittle +him in her idle, insolent fashion. + +He thought of Heath sitting by the bed of the dying woman, and he +thought of him following the wake of the _Lady Helen_ down the dark +river with sad, sorrowful eyes, and through the thought there came a +strange thrill to his own soul, because he touched the hem of the +garment of the Everlasting Mercy, hidden away, pushed out of life, and +forgotten in garrulous hours full of idle chatter. + +Yet Mrs. Wilder had announced with her regal finality no less than three +times in the hearing of Coryndon the previous evening that the Rev. +Francis Heath was "a bore." + + + + +XIX + +IN WHICH LEH SHIN WHISPERS A STORY INTO THE EAR OF SHIRAZ, THE PUNJABI; +THE BURDEN OF WHICH IS: "HAVE I FOUND THEE, O MINE ENEMY?" + + +A man with a grievance, however silent he may be by nature, is, +generally speaking, voluble upon the subject of his wrongs, real or +imaginary; but a man with a grudge is intrinsically different. An old +grudge or an old hate are silent things, because they have deep roots +and do not require attention, and it is only in flashes of sudden +feeling, or when the means to the end is in view, that the man with a +grudge reveals details and tells his story. Shiraz paid several visits +to, and spent some time in the shop of, Leh Shin before he arrived at +what he wanted to know. + +He went also to Mhtoon Pah's shop, but came away without discovering +anything. Into the ears of Hartley, Head of the Police, the Burman raged +and screamed his passionate hate, because he believed it promoted his +object; but to the Punjabi he was smooth and complaisant, and refused to +be drawn into any admission. Leh Shin, the Chinaman, was Bazaar dust to +his dignity, and he knew naught of him, save only that the man had an +evil name earned by evil deeds, and Shiraz, who was as crafty as Mhtoon +Pah, saw that he had come to a "no thoroughfare" and turned his wits +towards Leh Shin. + +Little by little, and without any apparent motive, he worked the +Chinaman up to the point where silence is agony, and at last, as a river +in flood crashes over the mud-banks, the whole tale of his wrongs came +bursting through his closed mouth, and with the sweat pouring down his +yellow face he out it into words. + +The meanest story receives something vital in its constitution when it +is told with all the force and conviction of years of hatred behind the +simple fact of expression, and the story that Leh Shin recounted to +Shiraz was a mean story. The Chinaman had the true Eastern capacity for +remembering the least item in the long account that lay unsettled +between himself and the Burman. His memory was a safe in which the +smallest fact connected with it was kept intact and his mind traversed +an interminable road of detail. + +The two men had begun life as friends. The friendship between them dated +back to the days when Leh Shin and Mhtoon Pah were small boys running +together in the streets of Mangadone, and no antipathy that is a first +instinct has ever the depth of root given to the bitterness that can +spring from a breach in long friendship, and Leh Shin and Mhtoon Pah +hated as only old friends ever do hate. + +Leh Shin started in life with all the advantages that Mhtoon Pah lacked, +and he appreciated the slavish friendship of the Burman, which grew with +years. Mhtoon Pah became a clerk on scanty pay in the employ of a rice +firm, and Leh Shin, at his father's death, became sole owner of the +house in Paradise Street; no insignificant heritage, as it was stocked +with a store of things that increased in value with age, and in the +guise of his greatest friend Mhtoon Pah was made welcome at the shop +whenever he had time to go there. From his clerkship in the firm of rice +merchants Mhtoon Pah, at the insistence of his friend, became part +partner in the increasing destiny of the curio shop. He travelled for +Leh Shin, and brought back wares and stores in days when railways were +only just beginning to be heard of, and it was difficult and even +dangerous to bring goods across the Shan frontier. He had the control of +a credit trust, though not of actual money, and for a time the +partnership prospered. Mhtoon Pah was always conscious that he was a +subordinate depending on the good will of his principal, and even as he +ate with cunning into the heart of the fruit, the outside skin showed no +trace of his ravages. Leh Shin's belief in his friend's integrity made +him careless in the matter of looking into things for himself, and +lulled into false security, he dreamed that he prospered; his dream +being solidified by the accounts which he received from the Burman. In +the zenith of his affluence he married the daughter of a Burman into +whose house Mhtoon Pah had introduced him, and it was only after the +wedding festivities that he became aware that he had supplanted the +friend of his bosom in the affections of the smiling Burmese girl. +Mhtoon Pah was away on a journey, and on his return rejoiced in the +subtle, flattering manner that he knew so well how to practise, and if +he felt rancour, he hid it under a smile. + +Marriage took the Chinaman's attention from the shop, and Mhtoon Pah, +still a subordinate in the presence of his master, was arrogant and +filled with assurance in his dealings with others. Interested friends +warned the Chinaman, but he would not listen to them. He believed in +Mhtoon Pah and he had covered him with gifts. + +"Was he not my friend, this monster of infamy?" he wailed, rocking +himself on his bed. "O that I had seen his false heart, and torn it, +smoking, from his ribs!" + +Leh Shin was secure in his summer of prosperity, and when his son was +born he felt that there was no good thing left out of the pleasant ways +of life. In the curio shop in Paradise Street Mhtoon Pah waxed fat and +studied the table of returns, and in the garden of the house where Leh +Shin lived in his fool's paradise, the Chinaman loosed his hold upon the +reins of authority. + +The first sign of the altered and averted faces of the gods was made +known to Leh Shin when his wife dwindled and pined and died. + +"But that, O friend, was not the work of thine enemy," said Shiraz, +pulling at his beard reflectively. "Even in thine anger, seek to follow +the ways of justice." + +"How do I know it?" replied Leh Shin. "He ever held an evil wish towards +me. Her death was slow, like unto the approach of disaster. I know not +whence it came, but my heart informs me that Mhtoon Pah designed it." + +Quickly upon the death of his wife came the disappearance of his son. +The boy had been playing in the garden, and the garden had been searched +in vain for him. No trace of the child could be found, though Mangadone +was searched from end to end. + +"Searched," cried the Chinaman, "as the pocket of a coat. No corner left +that was not peered into, no house that was not ransacked." The +Chinaman's voice quivered with passion, and his whole body shook and +trembled. + +Life flowed back into its accustomed current, and nearly a year passed +before the next trouble came upon Leh Shin. Mhtoon Pah came back from a +prolonged journey that had necessitated his going to Hong-Kong, and he +came back with dismay in his face and a story of loss upon loss. He had +compromised his master's credit to a heavy extent, and not only the +gains he had made but the principal was swept away into an awful chasm +where the grasping hands of creditors grabbed the whole of Leh Shin's +patrimony, claiming it under papers signed by his hand. + +"It was then that light flowed in upon my darkness, and I saw the long +prepared evil that was the work of one man's hand." Leh Shin rose upon +his string bed and his voice was thin with rabid anger. "I caught him by +the throat and would have stabbed him with my knife, but he, being a +younger man than I, threw me off from him, and, when he made me answer, +I saw my foe of many years stand to render his account to me. '_Thou_, +to call me thief,' said he, 'who robbed me of my wife and cheated me of +my son.'" + +After that, poverty and ruin drove him slowly from his house outside +Mangadone to the shelter of the shop in Paradise Street, and from there, +at length, to the burrow in the Colonnade. The bitterness of his own +fall was great enough in itself to harden the heart of any man, but it +was doubled by the story of the years that followed. Slowly, and without +calling too evident attention to himself, Mhtoon Pah began to prosper. +He opened a booth first, where he sat and cursed Leh Shin whenever he +passed, saying loudly that he had ruined him and swindled him out of all +his little store, that by hard work and attention to business he had +collected. + +From the booth, just as Leh Shin left Paradise Street, Mhtoon Pah +progressed to a small unpretentious shop, and a year later he moved +again, as though inspired by a spirit of malice, into the very premises +where Leh Shin had first employed him as a clerk. That day Leh Shin went +to his Joss and swore vengeance, though how his vengeance could be +worked into fact was more than his opium-muddled brain could conceive. +Vengeance was his dream by night, his one concentrated thought by day, +and he came no nearer to any hope of fulfilling it. Mhtoon Pah, wealthy +and respected; Mhtoon Pah, the builder of shrines; Mhtoon Pah, who spoke +with high Sahibs and had the ear of the Head of the Police himself, and +Leh Shin clad in ragged clothes, and only able to keep his hungry soul +in his body by means of his opium traffic, how could he strike at his +foe's prosperity? His hate glared out of his eyes as he panted, stopping +to draw breath at the end of his account. + +Had Shiraz known the legend of the wise wolf who changed from man to +beast, he might have supposed that some such change was taking place in +Leh Shin. His trembling lips dribbled, his head jerked as though +supported by wires, and his eyebrows twitched violently as though he had +no control over their movements. He had forgotten Shiraz and was +thinking only of the tribulation he had suffered and of the man whose +gross form inhabited his whole mental world. Shaking like a leaf, he got +off his bed and stood on the earth floor. + +"May he be eaten by mud-sores," he said savagely. "May he die by his own +hand, and so, as is the Teaching, be shut out of peace, and return to +earth as a scorpion, to be crushed again into lesser life by a stone." + +"By the will of Allah, who alone is great, there will be an end of thy +troubles," said Shiraz non-committally as he got up. "Thou hast suffered +much. Be it requited to thee as thou wouldst have it fall in the hour +that is already written; for no man may escape his destiny, though he be +fleet of foot as the antlered stag." + +"Son of a Prophet, thy words are full of wisdom." + +"Let it comfort thine affliction," said Shiraz, with the air of a man +making a gift. + +"Yet I would hasten the end." He gave a strange, soundless laugh that +startled Shiraz, who looked at him sideways. "And mark this, O wise one, +mine enemy hath already felt the first lash of the whip fall, even the +whip that scourged my own body. He hath lost the boy whom he ever +praised in the streets, and suffered much grief thereby. May his grief +thrive and may it be added to until the weight is greater than he can +bear." He swung up his hand with a stabbing movement. "I would rip him +like a cushion of fine down. I would strike his face with my shoe as the +_Nats_ that he dreads caught his screaming soul." + +"Peace, peace," said Shiraz. "Such words are ill for him who speaks, and +ill alike for him who listens. In such a day as already the end is +scored like a comet's tail across the sky, the end shall be, and not +before that day. Cease from thy clamour lest the street hear thee, and +run to know the cause." + +He took leave of his friend and went slowly away to his own house, +having achieved his master's mission, and feeling well satisfied with +his afternoon's work. + +Motive, the hidden spring of action, was made clear, and Shiraz knew +enough of his master's methods to realize that he had come upon a very +definite piece of evidence against Leh Shin, the Chinaman. From the +point of view of Shiraz the man was quite justified in killing Absalom, +since "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth," appeared fair and +reasonable to his mind. The Burman had overreached Leh Shin, and now Leh +Shin had begun the cycle again, and had smitten at the curio dealer +through the curio dealer's boy, for whom he appeared to have a +fanatical affection. According to Shiraz, the house in Paradise Street +stood a good chance of being burned to the ground. If this "accident" +happened, Shiraz would know exactly whose hand it was that lighted the +match. It was all part of an organized scheme, and though he did not +know how Coryndon would bring the facts home, fitting each man with his +share, like a second skin to his body, he felt satisfied that he had +provided the lump of clay for the skilled potter to mould into shape. + +He took off his turban, and lay down on his carpet. The day was still +hot, and the drowsy afternoon outside his closed windows blinked and +stared through the hours, the glare intensifying the shadows under the +trees and along the Colonnade. The soda-water and lemonade sellers in +their small booths drove a roaring trade as they packed the +aquamarine-green bottles in blocks of dirty ice to keep the frizzling +drink cool; and the cawing of marauding crows and the cackle of fowl +blended with the shouting of drivers and sellers of wares, who heeded +not the staring heat of the sun. + +After the emotion of telling his tale, Leh Shin slept in his own small +box of darkness, and, in the rich curio shop in Paradise Street, Mhtoon +Pah leaned on an embroidered pillow with closed eyes. The stream of life +flowed slowly and softly through the hours when only the poor have need +to work; soft as the current of a full tide that slides between wide +banks, and soft as sleep, or fate, or the destiny which no man can hope +to escape. + + + + +XX + +CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, IS FACED BY A MAN WITH A WHIP IN HIS HAND, +AND CORYNDON FINDS A CLUE + + +It is a matter of universal belief that a woman's most alluring quality +is her mystery, and Coryndon, no lover of women, was absorbed in the +study of mystery without a woman. + +He had eliminated the woman. + +In his mind he cast Mrs. Wilder upon one side, as March throws February +to the fag end of winter, and rushes on to meet the primrose girl +bringing spring in her wake. He had dealt simultaneously with Mrs. +Wilder's little part in the drama and the part of Francis Heath, Priest +in Holy Orders. How they had both stood the test of detection he did not +trouble to analyse. "Detection" is a nasty word, with a nasty sound in +it, and no one likes it well enough to brood over all it exactly means. + +Coryndon was sufficiently an observer of men and life to feel grateful +to Heath, because he had seen something for a short moment as he studied +the clergyman that dwells afterwards in the mind, like a stream of +moonlight lying over a tranquil sea. Hidden things, in his experience, +were seldom things of beauty, and yet he had come upon one fair place +in the whole puzzling and tangled story collected round the +disappearance of the Christian boy Absalom. + +Mrs. Wilder and Heath were both accounted for and deleted from the list +of names indelibly inscribed in his mental book; but one fact that was +sufficiently weighty had been added to what was still involved in doubt: +the fact that Heath had seen the boy in company with Leh Shin's +assistant. + +Coryndon was subject to the ordinary prejudices of any man who makes +human personality a study, and he was more than half disposed to go back +to the Bazaar and hear whatever evidence Shiraz had been able to collect +during his absence. Two reasons prevented his doing this. One was that +he would have to wait until it was dark enough to leave Hartley's +bungalow without being watched, and possibly followed, and the other +that there was still one name on the list that required attention, and +he began to feel that it required immediate attention. A toss of a coin +lay between which course he should adopt first, and he sat very still to +consider the thing carefully. + +In the service of which he was a member, he had learnt that much depends +upon getting facts in their chronological order, and that if there is +the least disunion in the fusing of events, deduction may hammer its +head eternally against a stone wall. He did not know positively that Leh +Shin had decoyed the boy away by means of his assistant, but he was +inclined to believe that such was the case. The blood-stained rag looked +like a piece of impudent bravado more than likely to have emanated from +the brain of the young Chinaman. His mental fingers opened to catch Leh +Shin and lay hold on him, but they unclosed again, and Coryndon felt +about him in the darkness that separates mind from mind. He knew the +pitfall that a too evident chain of circumstances digs for the unwary, +and he fell back from his own conviction, testing each link of the +chain, still uncertain and still doubtful of what course he should +pursue. + +He had another object in view, an object that entailed a troublesome +interview, and he turned his thoughts towards its possible issue. +Information might be at hand in the safe keeping of his servant Shiraz, +but he considered that he must argue his own conclusions apart from +anything Shiraz had discovered. Narrowing his eyes and sitting forward +on the edge of his bed, he thought out the whole progress of his scheme. +Coryndon was an essentially quiet man, but as he thought he struck his +hands together and came to a sudden decision. + +If life offers a few exciting moments, the man who refuses them is no +adventurer, and Coryndon saw a chance for personal skill and definite +action. He felt the call of excitement, the call that pits will against +will and subtlety against force, and that is irresistible to the man of +action. Probably it was just that human touch that decided him. One +course was easy; a mere matter of reassuming a disguise and slipping +back into the life of the people, which was as natural to him as his own +life. A tame ending, rounded off by hearing a story from Shiraz, and +laying the whole matter in the hands of Hartley. The proof against the +assistant was almost conclusive, and if Shiraz had burrowed into the +heart of the motive, it gave sufficient evidence to deliver over the +case almost entire to the man who added the last word to the whole drama +before the curtain fell. + +Coryndon knew the full value of working from point to point, but beside +this method he placed his own instinct, and his instinct pointed along a +different road, a road that might lead nowhere, and yet it called to him +as he sat on the side of his bed, as roads with indefinite endings have +called men since the beginning of time. + +Against his own trained judgment, he wavered and yielded, and at length +took his white _topi_ from a peg on the wall and walked out slowly up +the garden. It was three in the afternoon. Just the hour when Shiraz was +lying on his mat asleep, and when Leh Shin slept, and Mhtoon Pah drowsed +against his cushion from Balsorah, each dreaming after his own fashion; +and it was an hour when white men were sure to be in their bungalows. +Hartley was lying in a chair in the veranda, and all through Mangadone +men rested from toil and relaxed their brains after the morning's work. + +Coryndon went out softly and slowly, and he walked under the hot burning +sun that stared down at Mangadone as though trying to stare it steadily +into flame. White, mosque-like houses ached in the heat, chalk-white +against the sky, and the flower-laden balconies, massed with +bougainvillæa, caught the stare and cracked wherever there was sap +enough left in the pillars and dry woodwork to respond to the fierce +heat of a break in the rains. + +It was a long, hot walk to the bungalow where Joicey lived, over the +Banking House itself, and the vast compound was arid and bare from three +days of scorching drought. Coryndon's feet sounded gritting on the red, +hard drive that led to the cool of the porch. No one called at such an +hour; it was unheard of in Mangadone, where the day from two to five was +sacred from interruption. + +A Chaprassie stopped him on the avenue, and a Bearer on the steps of the +house itself. There were subordinates awake and alive in the Bank, ready +to answer questions on any subject, but Coryndon held to his purpose. He +did not want to see any of the lesser satellites; his business was with +the Manager, and he said that he must see him, if the Manager was to be +seen, or even if he was not, as his business would not keep. + +A young man with a smooth, affable manner appeared from within, and said +he would give any message that Coryndon had to leave with his principal, +but Coryndon shook his head and politely declined to explain himself or +his business, beyond the fact that it was private and important. The +young man shook his head doubtfully. + +"It doesn't happen to be a very good hour. We never disturb Mr. Joicey +in the afternoons." + +"May I send in my card?" asked Coryndon. + +"Certainly, if you wish to do so." + +Coryndon took a pencil out of his pocket, and, scribbling on the corner +of his card, enclosed it in an envelope, and waited in the dark hall, +where electric fans flew round like huge bats, the smooth-mannered young +man keeping him courteous company. + +"Mr. Joicey rests at this time of day," he explained. "I hope you quite +understand the difficulty." + +"I quite understand," replied Coryndon, "but I think he will see me." + +There was a pause. The young man did not wish to contradict him, but he +felt that he knew the ways and hours of the Head of the Firm very much +better than a mere stranger arriving on foot just as the Bank was due to +close for the day. He wondered who Coryndon was, and what his very +pressing business could possibly be, but even in his wildest flights of +fancy, and, with the thermometer at 112°, flights of fancy do not carry +far, he never even dimly guessed at anything the least degree connected +with the truth. + +The Bearer came down the wide scenic stairway and said that his master +would see Mr. Coryndon at once. The young man with the smooth manner +faded off into dark shadows with an accentuation of impersonal civility, +and Coryndon walked up the echoing staircase by the front of the hall, +down a corridor, down another flight of stairs, and into the private +suite of rooms sacred to the use of the head of the banking firm, and +used only in part by the celibate Joicey. + +Joicey was standing by a table, looking at Coryndon's card and twisting +it between his fingers. He recognized his visitor when he glanced at +him, and showed some surprise. The room was in twilight, as all the +outside chicks were down, and there was a lingering faint perfume of +something sweet and cloying in the air. Joicey looked sulky and +irritated, and he motioned Coryndon to a chair without seating himself. + +"Well," he said brusquely, "what's this about Rydal?" He pointed with a +blunt finger to the card that he had thrown on to the table. + +"That," said Coryndon, also indicating the card, "is merely a means +towards an end. I have the good fortune to find you not only in your +house, but able to receive me." + +The colour mounted to Joicey's heavy face, and his temper rose with it. + +"Then you mean to tell me--" He broke off and stared at Coryndon, and +gave a rough laugh. "You're Hartley's globe-trotting acquaintance, +aren't you? Well, Hartley happens to be a friend of mine, and it is just +as well for you that he is. Tell me your business, and I will overlook +your intrusion on his account." + +Something inside Coryndon's brain tightened like a string of a violin +tuned up to concert-pitch. + +"In one respect you are wrong," he said amiably, and without the +smallest show of heat. "I am, as you say, Hartley's friend, but I must +disown any connection with globe-trotting, as you call it. I am in the +Secret Service of the Indian Government." + +"Oh, are you?" Joicey tore up the card and threw it into a basket beside +the writing-table. + +"It may interest you to know," went on Coryndon easily, "that my visit +to you is not altogether prompted by idle curiosity." He smiled +reflectively. "No, I feel sure that you will not call it that." + +"Fire ahead, then," said Joicey, whose very evident resentment was by no +means abated. "Ask your question, if it is a question." + +"I am coming to that presently. Before I do I want you to understand, +Mr. Joicey, that, like you, I am a servant of the public, and I am at +present employed in gathering together evidence that throws any light +upon the doings of three people on the night of July the twenty-ninth." + +"Then you are wasting valuable time," said Joicey defiantly. "I was away +from Mangadone on that night." + +"I am quite aware that you told Hartley so." + +Coryndon's voice was perfectly even and level, but hot anger flamed up +in the bloodshot eyes of Craven Joicey. + +"I put it to you that you made a mistake," went on Coryndon, "and that +in the interests of justice you will now be able to tell me that you +remember where you were and what you were doing on that night." + +Joicey thrust his hands deep into his pockets, his heavy shoulders bent, +and his face dogged. + +"I am prepared to swear on oath that I was not in Mangadone on the night +of July the twenty-ninth." + +"Not in Mangadone, Mr. Joicey. Mangadone proper ends at the tram lines; +the district beyond is known as Bhononie." + +Coryndon could see that his shot told. There were yellow patches around +Joicey's eyes, and a purple shadow passed across his face, leaving it +leaden. + +"Unless I can complete my case by other means, you will be called as a +witness to prove certain facts in connection with the disappearance of +the boy Absalom on the night of July the twenty-ninth." + +"Who is going to call me?" + +The question was curt, and Joicey's defiance was still strong, but there +was a certain huskiness in his voice that betrayed a very definite fear. + +"Leh Shin, the Chinaman, will call you. His neck will be inside a noose, +Mr. Joicey, and he will need your evidence to save his life." + +"Leh Shin? That man would swear anything. His word is worthless against +mine," said the Banker, raising his voice noisily. "If that is another +specimen of Secret Service bluff, it won't do. Won't do, d'you hear?" + +Coryndon tapped his fingers on the writing-table. + +"I can't agree with you in your conclusion that it 'won't do.' Taken +alone his statement may be worthless, but taken in connection with the +fact that you are in the habit of visiting his opium den by the river, +it would be difficult to persuade any judge that he was lying. I myself +have seen you going in there and coming out." + +He watched Joicey stare at him with blind rage; he watched him stagger +and reach out groping hands for a chair, and he saw the huge defiance +evaporate, leaving Joicey a trembling mass of nerves. + +"It's a lie," he said, mumbling the words as though they were dry bread. +"It's a damned, infernal lie!" + +A long silence followed upon his words, and Joicey mopped his face with +his handkerchief, breathing hard through his nose, his hands shaking as +though he was caught by an ague fit. + +"I'm in a corner," he said at last; "you've got the whip-hand of me, +Coryndon, but when I said I was not in Mangadone that night, I was +speaking the truth." + +"You were splitting a hair," suggested Coryndon. + +Joicey drew his heavy eyebrows together in an angry frown. + +"Let that question rest," he said, conquering his desire to break loose +in a passion of rage. + +"You went down Paradise Street some time after sunset. Will you tell me +exactly whom you saw on your way to the river house?" + +Craven Joicey steadied his voice and thought carefully. + +"I passed Heath, the Parson, he was coming from the direction of the +lower wharves, and was going towards Rydal's bungalow. I remember that, +because Rydal was in, my mind at the time; I had heard that his wife was +ill, probably dying, and just after I saw Absalom." + +He paused for a moment and moistened his lips. + +"Was he with anyone when you saw him?" + +"No, he was alone, and he was carrying a parcel. Anyhow, that is all I +can tell you about him that night." + +Joicey looked up as though he considered that he had said enough. + +"And from there you went to the opium den," said Coryndon relentlessly. + +The perspiration dripped from Joicey's hair, and he took up the threads +of the story once more. + +"I went there," he said, biting the words savagely. "I was sick at the +time. I'd had a go of malaria and was as weak as a kitten. The place was +empty, and only Leh Shin was in the house, and whether he gave me a +stronger dose, or whether I was too seedy to stand my usual quantity, I +can't tell you, but I overslept my time." + +He passed his hand over his face with a sideways look that was horrible +in its shamefacedness. Coryndon avoided looking at him in return, and +waited patiently until he went on. + +"Leh Shin remained with me. He never leaves the house whilst I am +inside," continued Joicey. "I was there the night of the twenty-ninth +and the day of the thirtieth. Luckily it was a Sunday and there was no +fear of questions cropping up, and I only got out at nightfall when it +was dark enough for me to go back without risk. Since then," he said, +rising to his feet and striking the writing-table with a clenched fist, +"I have been driven close to madness. Hartley was put on to the track of +Leh Shin by the lying old Burman, Mhtoon Pah, and Leh Shin's shop was +watched and he himself threatened. God! What I've gone through." + +"Thank you," said Coryndon, pushing back his chair. "You have been of +the very greatest assistance to me." + +Joicey sat down again, a mere torment-racked mass, deprived of the help +of his pretence, defenceless and helpless because his sin had found him +out in the person of a slim, dark-faced man, who looked at him with +burning pity in his eyes. + +The world jests at the abstract presentment of vice. From pulpits it +appears clothed in attractive words and is spoken of as alluring; and, +supported by the laughter of the idle and the stern belief of the +righteous in its charms, man sees something gallant and forbidden in +following its secret paths. The abstract view has the charm and +attraction of an impressionist picture, but once the curtain is down, +and the witness stands out with a terrible pointing finger, the laughter +of the world dies into silence, and the testimony of the preacher that +vice is provided with unearthly beauty becomes a false statement, and +man is conscious only of the degradation of his own soul. + +Coryndon left the room noiselessly and returned up the steps, along the +corridor and down the stone flight that led into the subsiding heat of +the late afternoon. The young man with the smooth, affable manner +wheeled a bicycle out of a far corner, and smiled pleasantly at +Coryndon. + +"You saw the Manager, and got what you wanted?" + +"I saw him, and got even more than I wanted," said Coryndon, with +conviction. + +Things like this puzzled the dream side of his nature and left him +exhausted. The gathering passion of rage in Joicey's eyes had not +touched him, but the memory of the big, bull-dog, defiant man huddled on +the low chair, his arm over his face, was a memory that spoke of other +things than what he had come there to discover; the terrible things that +are behind life and that have power over it. He had to collect himself +with definite force, as a child's attention is recalled to a +lesson-book. + +"He has cleared Leh Shin," he said to himself, and at first exactly all +that the words meant was not clear to his mind. Joicey had cleared the +Chinaman of complicity, and had knocked the whole structure of carefully +selected evidence away with a few words. + +Coryndon was back in Hartley's bungalow with this to consider; and it +left him in a strange place, miles from any conclusion. He had sighted +the end of his labours, seen the reward of his long secret watchfulness, +and now they had withdrawn again beyond his grasp. Heath had seen +Absalom with the Chinaman's assistant. Joicey, whose evidence marked a +later hour than that of Heath, had seen him alone, and the solitary +figure of the small boy hurrying into the dark was the last record that +indicated the way he had gone. + +Nothing connected itself with the picture as Coryndon sat brooding over +it, and then gradually his mind cleared and the confusion of the +destruction of his carefully worked-out plan departed from his brain +like a wind-blown cloud. There was a link, and his sensitive fine +fingers caught it suddenly, the very shock of contact sending the blood +into his cheeks. + +The picture was clear now. Absalom, a little white-clad figure, slim, +eager and dutiful, hurried into the shadows of night, but Coryndon was +at his heels this time. The clue was so tiny, so infinitesimal, that it +took the eye of a man trained to the last inch in the habit of seeing +everything to notice it, but it did not escape Coryndon. + +He joined Hartley at tea in the sitting-room, with its semi-official air +of being used for serious work, and Hartley fulfilled his avocation by +bringing Coryndon back from strange places into the heart of sane +humdrum existence. Surely if some men are pillars, and others rockets, +and more poets, professors and preachers, some are hand-rails, and only +the man who has just been standing on a dizzy height looking sheer into +the bottomless pit where nothing is safe and where life crumbles and +fear is too close to the consciousness, knows the value and even the +beauty of a hand-rail, and knows that there is no need to mock at its +limitations. For a few minutes Coryndon leant upon the moral support of +Hartley's cheery personality, and then he told him that he was going +back to the Bazaar that night, as circumstances led him to believe that +he might find what he wanted there and there only. + +"That means that you have cleared Heath?" + +Hartley's voice was relieved. + +"Heath is entirely exonerated." + +Coryndon wandered to the piano, and he played the twilight into the +garden, the bats out of the eaves, and he played the shadow of Joicey's +shame off his own soul until he was refreshed and renewed, and it was +time for him to return to his disguise and slip out of the house. + + + + +XXI + +DEMONSTRATES THE PERSUASIVE POWER OF A KNIFE EDGE, AND TELLS A STORY OF +A GOLD LACQUER BOWL + + +The obese boy sat in Leh Shin's shop, fiddling sometimes with his ears +and sometimes with the soles of his bare feet. He found life just a +little dull, and had he been able to express himself as "bored," he +would doubtless have done so. Peeling small dry scales of skin off +wear-hardened heels is not the most exciting occupation life affords, +and the assistant wished more than once that his master would return +from either the gambling den or the Joss House and liberate him for the +night. + +It was his night at the river house, and small opportunities for +pilfering from the drugged sleepers made these occasions both amusing +and profitable. On the whole he enjoyed the nights in the den, and they +added considerably to his bank in a box secreted behind the Joss who +flamed and pranced on the wall. Meanwhile, nothing was doing in the +shop, and company there was none, unless the cockroaches and the lizards +could be reckoned in that category. + +His master had been shaky and short of temper when he awoke from his +afternoon sleep, and had struck his assistant over the head more than +once in the course of an argument. Unseen things ticked and rustled in +dark corners, and the boy yawned loudly and stretched his arms, making +himself more hideous as his contracted mouth opened to its full oval in +his large round face. Still nothing happened and no one came, and he +returned to the closer examination of a blister that interested him. He +probed it with a needle, and it indicated its connection with his foot +by stinging as though he had burnt himself with a match. + +He was seated on a table bending over his horrible employment, half +pastime, half primitive operation, the light of the lamp full upon him, +when a sound of padding feet shook the floor and he looked up, his eyes +full of the effort of listening attentively, and saw a face peering in +at the door. For a moment he was startled, and then he swung his legs, +which hung short of the floor, over the side of the table and laughed +out loud. + +"So thou art back, Mountain of Wisdom?" he said jeeringly. "Come within +and tell me of thy journey." + +The Burman crept in stealthily, looking around him. + +"Aye, I am back. Having done the business." + +Curiosity leapt into the eyes of the Chinaman, and he dropped his +attitude of contempt. + +"What business?" he asked greedily. "Before thy departure thou wast +mute, stricken as a dumb man, neither wouldst thou speak in response to +any question." + +The Burman curled himself up on the floor and smiled complaisantly. + +"None the less, the business is done, O Bowl of Ghee, and I have +returned." + +The assistant ignored the personal description, and adopted a manner +calculated to ingratiate himself into the friendly confidence of the mad +Burman. He wriggled off the table and crouched on the floor a few inches +off Coryndon's face, and the contact being too close for human +endurance, Coryndon threw himself back into the corner and retired +behind a mask of cunning obstinacy. + +"Thy business, thy business," repeated the boy. "Was it in the nature of +the evil works of the bad man, thy friend?" He leered his encouragement, +and fumbling at his belt took out a small coin. "Here, I will give thee +two annas if thou tell the whole story to my liking." + +The Burman shook his head, but he appeared to be considering the offer +slowly in his obtuse and stagnant brain. + +"Give the money into mine own hand, that the reward be sure," he said, +as though he toyed with the idea. + +"Not so," replied the boy. "First the boiled rice and the salt, and +afterwards the payment. Thus is the way in honest dealings." + +The Burman shut his mouth tightly and exhibited signs of a return to his +former condition of dumbness that worked upon the assistant like gall. + +"Then, if nothing less will content thee, take thy money," he said in +frothy anger. "Take it and speak low, for it may be that eavesdroppers +are without in the street." + +He dropped the coin into the outstretched palm, but the Burman did not +begin his story. He got up and searched behind boxes and shook the rows +of hanging garments. He was so secret and silent that the boy became +exasperated and closed the narrow door into the street with a bang, +pulling across a heavy chain. + +"Let that content thee," he said irritably, chafing under the delay, and +sitting down, a frowsy, horrible object, in the dim corner, he prepared +to enjoy a further description out of the wild fantastic terrors of the +madman's brain. + +Surprise does not hover; its coming events are shadowless, and its +spring is the spring of a tiger out of the dark, and surprise came upon +Leh Shin's assistant as it has come upon men and nations since the world +first spun in space. + +He looked upon the Burman as a harmless lunatic, and he only +half-believed that he had ever been guilty of the act that had ended in +a term of imprisonment in the Andaman Islands, but in one moment he +realized that it might all be true and that he himself was possibly +singled out as the next victim. + +In one silent moment he found himself pinned in his corner, the Burman +squatting in front of him, a long knife which he had never seen before +pointing at his throat with horrible, determined persistency. + +He opened his mouth and thought to cry out for help, but the Burman +leaned forward and warned him that if he did so, his last minute had +inevitably come. + +"I am thy friend, thy good and honourable friend," he said pleasantly as +he made play with the Afghan dagger. "I do but make mirth for both +myself and thee, and I have no thought to harm thee." + +The flesh of the gross body crept and crawled under the Burman's look. +Fate had put the heart of a chicken in the huge frame of Leh Shin's +assistant, and it beat now like pelting hail on a frozen road. He was +close to a raw, naked fear, and it made him shameless as he gibbered and +cowered before it. + +"I have no money," he said, bleating out the words. "All that I have is +already paid to thee for thy tale." + +He whined and cringed and writhed in his close corner. + +"I have heard a strange tale," Coryndon said, bending a little closer to +him. "Old now as stale fish that has lain in the dust of the street. It +has been whispered in my ear that thou knowest how Absalom came to his +end." + +"I slew him in the house of a seaman," said the boy, in a quavering +voice. "Now take the point of thy knife from my throat, for it doth +greatly inconvenience pleasant speech between thee and me." + +Coryndon's watchful eye detected the lie before it announced itself in +words, or so it seemed to the boy, who resigned himself to the mere +paltry limitations of fact, and confessed that he and Absalom had been +friends and that he had never killed anything except a chicken, and once +a dog that was too young to bite his hand. + +The details of the story came out at long intervals, with breaks of +sweating terror between each one. Pieced together, it was simple enough. +In spite of the existing feud between their masters, Leh Shin's +assistant and Absalom had struck up a kind of friendship that was not +unlike the friendship of any two boys in any quarter of the globe. They +used special knocks upon the door, and when they passed as strangers in +the streets they made masonic signs to one another, and they also +gambled with European cards in off hours. + +The desire for money, so strong in the Chinaman, grew gradually in the +mind of the Christian boy, whose descent to Avernus was marked first by +the sale of his Sunday school prize-books, which he disposed of at the +Baptist Mission shop, receiving several rupees in return. Having once +possessed himself of what was wealth to him, and having lost most of it +in the gentlemanly vice of gambling, he began to need more, but being +slow-witted he could think of no way better than robbing Mhtoon Pah, +which suggestion the Chinaman's assistant looked upon as both dangerous +and weak, regarded in the light of a workable plan. + +It was inside his bullet-head that the idea of a plot that could not be +discovered came into its first nebulous being. Absalom found out that +Mhtoon Pah was looking for a gold lacquer bowl, and through the agency +of Leh Shin the bowl was eventually marked down as the property of a +seaman who was lodging temporarily near the opium den by the river, one +of Leh Shin's clients. The assistant had the good fortune to overhear +the preliminaries of the sale, and he immediately saw his opportunity, +as genius alone sees and recognizes chances. It was he who first told +Absalom that the bowl was located, and it was he who realized that +chance was beckoning on the adventurer. + +It was arranged that Absalom should inform Mhtoon Pah that the coveted +treasure was to be had for a price, and it was also the part of Mr. +Heath's best scholar, to obtain the money from Mhtoon Pah that was to be +paid over to the seaman for the bowl. By this time Absalom's gambling +debts had become a serious question with him, and even a lifelong +mortgage upon his weekly pay could hardly cover his liabilities. Besides +which, he had to live. That painful necessity which dogs the career of +greater men than Absalom. + +He appeared to have an almost childish trust in the craft and guile of +his Chinese friend, and set the whole matter before him. Mhtoon Pah was +ready to pay two hundred rupees for the lacquer bowl, as he was already +offered five hundred by Mrs. Wilder, and was content with the profit. +Two hundred rupees was a sum that was essentially worth some risk. To +hand it over to a drunken seaman was against all moral precept. The +sailor's ways were scandalous, his gain would go into evil hands. +Treated in this manner, even a Sunday-school graduate could lull an +uneasy conscience, and as far as Coryndon could judge, Absalom was not +troubled by any warnings from that silent mentor. Out of the brain of +Leh Shin's assistant the great scheme had leapt full-grown, and it only +required a little careful preparation to put it into action. + +The assistant knew the sailor, a Lascar with a craving for drink, and he +became friendly with him "out of hours," and learned his ways and the +times when he was likely to be in the house where he lodged. The sailor, +having come to know that value was attached to his bowl, guarded it with +avaricious care when in a condition to do so; and Leh Shin, who trusted +his assistant, through whom the news of the deal had first come to his +ear, offered the man fifty rupees for what he had merely stolen from a +shop in Pekin. It took the assistant a full week to arrange events so +that he and Absalom could work together for the moral good of the +sailor, and protect him from the snares of lucre, represented by a third +of the money Leh Shin expected to receive. + +He dwelt with some pride upon the fact, and his vanity in this +particular almost conquered his fear of the Afghan blade that still +nestled close to his bull neck. He had drunk in friendship with the +sailor, dropping a drug into his cup, and waiting till his eyes grew dim +and he fell forward in a heavy sleep. But even in the moment of +achievement his wits were worth more than the wits of Absalom, for he +ran out of the house and established an alibi while the Christian boy +filched the bowl from beneath the bed of the intoxicated sailor. At a +given hour he waited for Absalom just where Heath had stood after he +had parted from Rydal, and so chance played twice into his hands in one +night. Absalom, who appeared to have imbibed some rudimentary principles +of honour among thieves, passed the boy his share, which was a hundred +and twenty rupees, including his debts of honour, and having done so, +sped away into the night, the bowl under his arm. + +"And that is all the story," said the boy, beating his hands on the +floor, and returning from the momentary forgetfulness of the narrative +to the immediate fear of the knife. "Further than that, I know nothing. +The hour is late and if I am not at the river house I shall feel the +wrath of my master." + +"It is a poor tale, a paltry tale," said the Burman, in tones of +disgust. "One that hardly requites me for my patience in hearing it +out." + +He slipped his knife back into his belt and got up from his heels with a +leisurely movement. The boy, still on all fours, watched him closely, +and the Burman, his eye attracted by a bright tin kettle hanging among +the other goods dependent from the ceiling, stood looking at it, and as +he looked the boy dodged out with a rush, overturning a bale of goods, +and tearing at the door like a mad dog, disappeared into the street. + +Coryndon watched him go, and went back to his corner to wait until Leh +Shin should return from either the gambling den or the Joss House. He +had something to say to Leh Shin, something that could not wait to be +said, and he composed himself to the necessary patience that is part of +all close, careful search, and while he waited, he turned over the +evidence that had arisen from the little clue that Joicey had given him. +Absalom had a parcel under his arm, and that parcel was the gold lacquer +bowl that had passed from Mhtoon Pah's curio shop to Mrs. Wilder's +writing-table. + +Coryndon fiddled with his fingers in the dust of the floor, and took a +blood-stained rag out of his pocket and spread it over his knee. Here +was another tangible piece of evidence brought by Mhtoon Pah to Hartley. +So the record of circumstance closed in. Coryndon thought again. A +lacquer bowl and a stained rag of silk, that was all. If he handed over +the case to Hartley and Mhtoon Pah was really guilty, other evidence +would in all probability be found, and the whole mystery made clear. + +He leaned against the wall and watched the throbbing lamp-wick, fighting +his passion for completed work and his conviction that only he could see +it through to its ultimate conclusion. He knew that he was dealing with +wits quite as crafty as his own, and argued the point from the other +side. Mhtoon Pah had given the rag himself to Hartley, and had sworn +that the bowl was left on the steps of his shop. If no further proof was +forthcoming, these two facts unsupported were almost worthless. Unless a +complete denial of his story could be set against it, Hartley stood to +be checkmated. + +Coryndon had nearly decided against Leh Shin. He drew his knees up under +his chin and came to a definite conclusion. He could not give up the +case as it stood; he was absolved from any hint of professional +jealousy, and he could count himself free to follow the evidence until +it led him irrevocably to the spot where the whole detail was clear and +definite. + +All the faces of the men who had figured in the drama floated across his +mind, and he thought of the strange key that turned in the lock of one +small trivial destiny, opening other doors as if by magic. Absalom's +life or death had no outward connection with the Head of the Mangadone +Banking Firm, it had nothing in all its days to bring it into touch with +Rydal and Rydal's tragedy--Rydal whom Coryndon had never seen. It lay +apart, severed by race and every possible accident of birth or chance, +from the successful wife of a successful Civil Servant, or an earnest, +hard-working clergyman, and yet the great net of Destiny had been spread +on that night of the 29th of July, and every one of them had fallen into +its meshes. + +All the immense problem of the plan that so decides the current of men's +lives came over him, and he saw the limitless value of the insignificant +in life. Absalom was only a little floating piece of jetsam on the great +waters that divided all these lives, yet he was the factor that had +taken the place of the keystone in the arch; the pivot around which the +force that guided and ruled the whole apparent chaos had moved. Coryndon +wandered a long way in his thoughts from the shop where he sat on the +dusty floor, waiting for the return of Leh Shin. He was so still that +the cockroaches and black-beetles crept out again and formed into +marauding expeditions where the shadows of the hanging clothes fell +dark. + +He turned himself from the pressure of his thought and closed his eyes, +resting his brain in a quiet pool of untroubled silence. He knew the +need and the art of absolute relaxation from the strain of thought, and +though he did not sleep, he looked as though he slept, until he heard +the sound of approaching feet and a hand pushed against the door. + + + + +XXII + +IN WHICH CORYNDON HOLDS THE LAST THREAD AND DRAWS IT TIGHT + + +When Leh Shin opened the shop door and pushed in his grey, gaunt face, +he looked around as though wondering in a half-dreamy, half-detached +abstraction where some object he had expected to see had gone. At length +his eyes wandered to the Burman, who sat on the ground eyeing him with a +curiously intent and concentrated regard. + +"Thine assistant hath gone to the river house," he said, answering the +unspoken question. "He left me in charge of thy shop and thy goods." + +Leh Shin nodded silently and closed the door. When he turned, the Burman +beckoned to him with a studied suggestion of mystery. + +"What is thy message?" asked Leh Shin. He believed the Burman to be +afflicted with a madness, and his odd and persistent movement of his arm +hardly conveyed anything to the drowsy, drugged brain of the Chinaman. + +The Burman made no reply, but beckoned again, pointing to the floor +beside him in dumb show, and Leh Shin advanced slowly and took up his +place on a grass mat a little distance off. Silently, and very softly, +the Burman crept near to him, and putting his mouth close to his ear, +talked in a rapid, hissing whisper. His words were low, but their effect +upon Leh Shin was startling, for he recoiled as though touched by a hot +needle. His hands clutched his clothes, and his whole frame stiffened. +Even when he drew away, he listened with avidity as the Burman continued +to pour forth his story. + +He had a friend in the household of Hartley Sahib, so he told Leh Shin, +a friend who had sensitive ears and had heard much; had heard in fact +the whole story of the stained rag, and of Mhtoon Pah's wild appeal for +justice against the Chinaman. + +"Well for thee, Leh Shin, that I have a friend in the house of that +_Thakin_ who rules the Police. But for him I should not have been +informed of the plot against thy life, for, 'on this evidence,' saith +he, 'assuredly they will hang the Chinaman, and Mhtoon Pah is witness +against him.'" + +"Mhtoon Pah, Mhtoon Pah!" said Leh Shin, and he needed to add no curses +to the name, spoken as he said it. + +When Coryndon had fully explained that his friend, who was in the +service of Hartley, had not only given him a circumstantial account of +how the rag was to be used as final and conclusive evidence of Leh +Shin's guilt, but that he had also stolen the rag out of Hartley Sahib's +locked box, to be safely returned to him later, Leh Shin almost tore it +from between Coryndon's fingers. + +"Nay, I cannot deliver it unto thee. My word is pledged. Look closely at +it, if thou wilt, but it may not leave my hand or I break my oath." + +He held it under the circle of lamplight, and the Chinaman leaned over +his shoulder to look at it. For a long time he examined it carefully, +feeling its texture and touching it with light fingers. + +Coryndon watched him with some interest. The Chinaman was applying some +definite test to the silk, known to himself. At last he turned his eyes +on the Burman, staring with a gaunt, fierce look that saw many things, +and when he spoke his words grated and rattled and his voice was almost +beyond his control. + +"See now, O servant of Justice, I am learned in the matter of silks, and +without doubt this comes surely from but one place." + +Again he fell to touching the silk, and his crooked fingers shook as he +explained that the fragment was one he could identify. It was not the +product of the silk looms of Burma, or Shantung; it could not be +procured even in Japan. It was a rare and special product fashioned by +certain lake-dwellers in the Shan states, and so small was their output +that it went to no market. + +"In one shop only in Mangadone," he said; "nay, in one shop only in the +whole world may such silk be found. Thus, in his craft, hath mine enemy +overreached himself." + +"Thou art certain of this?" + +"As I am that the sun will rise." + +Coryndon looked again at the silk, and sat silently thinking. + +"The piece is cut off roughly," he said, after a moment of reflection. +"Yet, could it be fitted into the space left in the roll, then thou art +cleared, and hast just cause against Mhtoon Pah." + +"If thy madness comprehends so much, let it carry thee further still, O +stricken and afflicted," said Leh Shin, imploring him with voice and +gesture. "Night after night have I stood outside his shop, but who may +enter through a locked door? A breath, a shadow, or a flame, but not a +man." He lay on the ground and dug his nails into the floor. "I know the +shop from within and without, and I know that the lock opens with +difficulty but to one key, the key that hangs on a chain around the neck +of Mhtoon Pah." + +Silence fell again as Leh Shin wrestled with the problem that confronted +him. + +"What saidst thou?" said the Burman, suddenly coming to life. "A key?" + +He gave a low, chuckling laugh and rocked about in his corner. + +"Knowest thou of the story of Shiraz, the Punjabi?" + +"I have no mind for tales," said Leh Shin, striking at him with a futile +blow of rage. + +"Nay, restrain thy wrath, since thou hast spoken of a key. With a key +that was made by sorcery, he was enabled to open the treasure-box of the +Lady Sahib, and often hath he told me that all doors may be opened by +it, large or small. It is not hard for me to take it from under his +pillow while he sleeps." + +The Chinaman's jaw dropped, and he cast up his hands in mute +astonishment. If this was madness, sanity appeared only a doubtful +blessing set beside it. He drew his own wits together, and leaning near +the Burman laid before him the rough outline of a plan. + +Mhtoon Pah's ways were known to him. Usually he went to the Pagoda after +the shop was closed, and he returned from there late; it was impossible +to be accurate as to the exact hour of his return. To risk detection was +to shatter all chance of success, and it was necessary to make sure +before attempting to break into the shop and identify the silk rag with +the original roll, if that might be done. + +There was only one course open to the Burman and Leh Shin, and that was +to wait until there was a _Pwé_ at the Pagoda, which Mhtoon Pah would +certainly attend, as his new shrine drew many curious gazers to the +Temple. It would also draw the inhabitants of Paradise Street out of the +quarter, and leave the place practically deserted. For many reasons it +was necessary to wait such an opportunity, though Leh Shin raved at the +delay. It seemed to him that the whole plan was of his suggesting, and +he did not realize that every vague question put by the Burman led him +step by step to the complicated scheme. + +"To-morrow I will send forth my assistant to bring me word of the next +_Pwé_, so that the night may be marked in my mind, and that I shall gain +pleasure in considering the nearing downfall of my enemy." + +Coryndon slipped off to his house. He was tired mentally and physically, +but before he slept, he took a bundle of keys from his dispatch-box and +tied them to the waist of his _loongyi_. + +In the morning there was a fresh surprise for Leh Shin. His assistant +refused to leave the river house, and no persuasion would lure him out +to look after his master's shop. He was afraid of something or someone, +and he wept and entreated to be left where he was. Leh Shin beat him and +tried to drive him out, to no purpose, and in the end he prevailed over +his master, whose mind was occupied with other and more weighty affairs. + +Like a black shadow, Leh Shin crept about the streets, and he questioned +one and another as to the festivities to be held at the Pagoda. +Everywhere he heard of Mhtoon Pah's shrine, and of the great holiness of +the curio dealer. Mhtoon Pah was giving a feast at the Pagoda with +presents for the priests, and the night chosen was the night of the full +moon. + +"Art thou bidden?" asked one who remembered the day of Leh Shin's +prosperity. + +"It is in my thoughts, friend, to make my peace," said Leh Shin, with an +immovable face. "On the night when the moon is full, I am minded to do +so." + +His words were carried back to Mhtoon Pah, who pondered over them, +wondering what the Chinaman meant, finding something sinister in the +sound that added to his rage against his enemy. + +The day of the feast was dark and overcast, and the inhabitants of +Paradise Street looked at the sky with great misgiving, but the curio +dealer refused to be alarmed. + +"The night will be fine, for I have greatly propitiated the _Nats_," he +said with conviction, and he lolled and smoked in his chair at an +earlier hour than was usual with him. + +Even as he had said, the evening began to clear, and by sunset the heavy +clouds were all dispersed. A red sunset unfolded itself in a scroll of +fire across the sky, and Mangadone looked as though it was illuminated +by the flames of a conflagration. A strange evening, some said then, and +many said after. Even the pointing man lost his jaundice-yellow and +seemed to blush as he pointed up the steps. He had nothing to blush for. +His master was at the summit of his power. The _Hypongyis_ lauded him +openly in the streets, and he was giving a feast at the Temple at which +the poorest would not be forgotten. + +Yet Mhtoon Pah was not altogether easy. His eyes rolled strangely from +time to time, and it was remarked by several that he walked to the end +of Paradise Street and looked down the Colonnade of the Chinese quarter, +standing there in thought. Old stories of the feud between him and Leh +Shin were recalled in whispers and passed about. + +The red of the sunset died out into rose-pink, and the effect of colour +in the very air faded and dwindled. People were already dressed out in +gala clothing, and streaming towards the Pagoda. The giver of the feast +did not start with them. He sat in his chair, and then withdrew into his +shop. A light travelled from thence to the upper story, and then with +slow hesitation, Mhtoon Pah came out by the front of the house and +locked the clamped padlock. He stood still for a few minutes, and then +he gasped and shook his fist at the empty air, and he, too, took his way +across the bridge and was lost in the shadows. + +Still the stream from Wharf Street and the confluent streets flowed on +up Paradise Street, and gradually only the maimed and the aged, or the +impossibly youthful, were left behind, to hear of the wonders afterwards +at secondhand, a secondhand likely to add rather than detract from what +actually took place. Even the Colonnade was empty and silent. Shiraz had +gone with the crowd to see what might be seen, and Leh Shin's assistant, +furtive and watchful, and in great terror of the Burman's knife, was +also in the throng that climbed the Pagoda steps. + +The moon that was to have shone on Mhtoon Pah's feast rose in a yellow +ring, and clouds came up, hazy, gaudy clouds that dimmed its light and +made the shadows in the silent streets dense and heavy. Usually there +was a police guard at the corner where Paradise Street met the +Colonnade, but that night Hartley considered the police would be more +necessary in the neighbourhood of the Pagoda. Mhtoon Pah did not think +of this. His conscience was easy, he had propitiated the _Nats_. + +The Pagoda was one blaze of light, and a thousand candles flamed before +every shrine; even the oldest and most neglected had its ring of light. +Small coloured lamps dotted the outlines of some of the booths, and the +whole spectacle presented a moving mass of brilliant colour. Sahibs had +come there. Hartley Sahib had agreed to appear for half an hour, and he +too looked at the crowd with curious, travelling eyes. Coryndon might be +among them, and probably was, he thought, but in any case there was +little chance of his recognizing him if he were. + +Mhtoon Pah had not spared magnificent display, and the crowd told each +other that it was indeed a night to remember in Mangadone. Whispering +winds came out and rang the Temple bells, but even when the breeze +strengthened, the rain-clouds held off. It became a matter for +compliment and congratulation, and Mhtoon Pah accepted his friends' +flattery without pride. He was a good man, a benefactor, a +shrine-builder who followed "the Way" with zeal and fervour, and +besides, he had propitiated _Nats_; _Nats_ who blew up storms, caused +earthquakes and were evilly disposed towards men. + +Mhtoon Pah would have been at the point where a man's life touches +sublimity, but for one thing. The words of Leh Shin echoed in his ears +over all the applause and adulation. + +"It is in my thought, friend, to make my peace. On the night of the full +moon I am minded to do so." + +The moon riding clear of clouds, shone out over the concourse of men and +women. Anywhere among them all might be Leh Shin, the needy Chinaman, +and gripping his large hands into fists, Mhtoon Pah watched for him and +expected him, but watch as he might, he did not come, neither was there +any sign of him among all the crowd of faces that passed and repassed +before the new shrine. + + + + +XXIII + +DEMONSTRATES THE TRUTH OF THE AXIOM THAT "THE UNEXPECTED ALWAYS HAPPENS" + + +At the time when Mhtoon Pah was standing in the centre of a gazing group +before the new shrine, and trying to forget that nothing except the news +of Leh Shin's hanging would give him real satisfaction, the Chinaman, +accompanied by the Burman, slipped up the channel of gloom under the +Colonnade and made his way into Paradise Street. + +The Burman walked with an easy unconscious step, but Leh Shin crept +close to the wall and started when he passed a sleeping form in a +doorway. Night fears and that trembling anxiety that comes when +fulfilment is close at hand were upon him. He knew that the point in +view was to effect an entrance into the curio shop, the threshold of +which he had not crossed since his last black hour of misfortune had +struck and he had gone out a beggar. + +Everything in his life lay on the other side of the shop door; all his +happy, prosperous, careless days, all the good years. Every one of them +was stored there just as surely as Mhtoon Pah's ivories and carved +screens and silks were stored safe against the encroachment of damp and +must. His old self might even be somewhere in the silent house, and it +takes a special quality of courage for a man to return and walk through +a doorway into the long past. For the first time for years he remembered +how he had brought his little son into the shop, and how the child had +laughed and crowed at the sight of amber and crystal chains. + +Even Mhtoon Pah grew dim in his mind, and he dallied with the forgotten +memories as he stood shaking in an archway watching the Burman cross the +street. Insensibly the Burman's mania had waned in the last few hours, +and he had grown silent and preoccupied, a fact that escaped Leh Shin's +notice. His owl eyes blinked with the strain of staring through the +wavering light, and his memories strove with him as though in physical +combat. Mhtoon Pah was no longer in the house, and instead of his shadow +another influence seemed to brood there, something that called to Leh +Shin, but not with the wild cry of hate. Before the days of still +greater affluence Leh Shin had lived there with his little Burmese wife. + +The Burman was on his knees, having some difficulty with the lock. He +could see him fighting it, and at last he saw the jerk of his hand that +told that the key had turned, and that the way was clear. Leh Shin dived +out of the recess and ran, a flitting shadow, across the road. The door +was open, but the Burman for all his madness was not satisfied. There +was a way out through the back by which they could emerge, and if the +front door hung loose, careless eyes might easily be attracted to the +fact. The pointing man was not there for nothing. Almost everyone +looked up the steps. Even in his fury of impatience, Leh Shin saw the +reason for caution, and agreed to open a window, and admit the Burman +after he had locked the door again. + +The moments were full of the tense agony of suspense, and he peered +cautiously out from under the silk blind. A late passer-by went slowly +up the street, and Leh Shin's heart beat a loud obbligato to the sound +of his wooden pattens. By craning his neck as the man passed, he could +just distinguish the Burman crouching behind the wooden man, who blandly +indicated the heavy padlock. The wooden man lied woodenly to the effect +that all was well within the curio shop, and a few minutes later the +Burman swung himself over the balustrade and climbed with cat-like +agility on to the window-ledge. + +The darkness of the room was heavy with scent, and Leh Shin stumbled +over unknown things. Coryndon struck a match and held it in the hollow +of one palm as he opened the aperture in the dark lantern he carried, +and lighted it. When he had done so he looked up, and taking no notice +of the masses of beautiful things, he went quickly to the silk cupboard, +opening it with another key on the ring. + +"Leh Shin," he said, speaking in a commanding whisper, "turn thyself +into an ear, and listen for me while I search." + +Leh Shin nodded silently, half-stupidly it seemed, and went on tip-toes +to the door that opened into the passage. All the power of the past was +over him, and though he heard the Burman's curt command he hardly seemed +to understand what he meant. For a little time he stood at the door, +hearing the rustling whisper of yards of silk torn down and glanced over +and discarded, and then he wandered almost without knowing it up the +staircase and through the rooms, until the sight of Mhtoon Pah's bed and +some of Mhtoon Pah's clothing recalled his mind to the reason of his +being there. + +He hurried down, his bare feet making no sound on the stairs, and looked +into the shop again. The Burman was seated on the floor, a width of silk +over his knees; all the displaced rolls had been put back. He had worked +swiftly and with the greatest care that no trace of his visit should be +known later. + +Leh Shin slid out again. The passage was dark as pitch, but he knew +every turn and twist of its windings, and he knew that it led down to +the cellars below the house. He was awake and alert now as Coryndon +himself, and as he strained his ears he caught a sound. He listened +again with horrible eagerness, looked back into the shop and saw the +stooping head going over every yard of a roll of fine silk faithfully; +and then he gripped the knife under his belt and, feeling along the wall +with his free hand, followed along the corridor. Once only he glanced +round and then the darkness of the corridor swallowed him from sight. + +Coryndon, busy with the silk made by the lake-dwellers spread over his +knees, knew nothing of Leh Shin's disappearance. The fever of chase was +in his blood, and he threw the flimsy yards through his hands. Nothing, +nothing, and again nothing, and again--he felt his heart swell with +sudden, stifled excitement. Under his hand was a three-cornered rent, a +damaged piece where a patch rather larger than his palm had been roughly +cut out. His usually steady hand shook as he put the stained rag over it +and fitted it into the place. + +"Leh Shin," he called, as he rose, but he called softly. + +No sound answered his whisper, and he stiffened his body and listened. +He had been wrong. There was a sound, but it did not come from inside +the shop: it was the slow footstep of a heavy man pausing to find a key. + +Coryndon listened no longer. He closed the door of the silk cupboard, +bundled up the yards of silk in his arms and extinguishing the lamp +darted behind a screen. It was a heavy carved teak screen, inset with +silk panels embroidered with a long spray of hanging wistaria on a dark +yellow ground. As he hid himself, he cursed his own stupidity. In the +excitement of his desire to enter the curio shop, he had forgotten to +hamper the lock with pebbles. + +After what seemed an age, the door opened slowly and Mhtoon Pah came in. +Something, he knew not what, had dragged him away from the Pagoda, and +dragged him back to his shop. His eyes looked mad and unnatural in the +light of the lantern he held in his hand, and he shut the door and stood +like a dog who scents danger, and stared round the room. He walked to +the silk cupboard and looked in through the glass panes, but did not +open it or discover that it was unlocked. He paced round the room, +stopping before the screen, his eyes still reflecting his trouble of +mind. + +From behind the screen, Coryndon watched every stir he made; he saw the +look on his face and noted Mhtoon Pah's smallest movement. There was no +evidence of thieves, and yet suspicion made itself plain in every line +of the curio dealer's body. At last, with a gasping sigh, he sat before +the small figure of an alabaster Gaudama and stared at it with unwinking +eyes. + +"I shed no blood," he said, in a low rattling voice. "I shed no blood. +My hands are clean." + +Over and over he repeated the words, like an incantation, his voice +rising and falling, until Coryndon could have emerged from his hiding +and taken him by the throat. + +The thought of coming out upon Mhtoon Pah crossed his mind, but his +instinct held him back. He wondered desperately where Leh Shin had gone, +and if he would come in upon the Burman making his strange prayer. Still +Mhtoon Pah repeated the words and swayed to and fro before the image of +the Buddha, and the very moments seemed to pause and listen with +Coryndon. The shop was close and the air oppressive. Little trickles of +sweat ran down his neck and made channels in the stain on his skin, and +still Coryndon waited in tense suspense. + +For nearly ten minutes Mhtoon Pah continued to rock and mutter on the +floor, and then he got up, and, taking his lantern, went out by the door +into the passage. Coryndon waited for the sound of a scuffle and a +fall, but none came, and he was in the dark, surrounded by silence once +more. + +Without waiting to consider, he followed across the room and saw the +swinging light go down the passage and disappear suddenly. It seemed to +Coryndon that Mhtoon Pah had disappeared, as though he had gone through +the wall at the end of the passage, and he followed slowly. Silence +locked him in again, the dark, motionless silence of enclosed space. + +He did not dare to call out again to Leh Shin, and for all that he could +tell, the Chinaman might have been an arm's-reach away from him in the +darkness, also waiting for some sudden thing to happen. The dark passage +was an ante-chamber to some event: Coryndon's tingling nerves told him +that; and he steadied himself, holding in his imagination in a close, +resolute grip. + +He had no way of judging the time that passed, but he guessed that it +seemed longer to him than it possibly could have been; when from +somewhere far below him, he heard a cry and the noise of several voices, +all raised into indistinct clamour. + +"More than one man," he thought, as his heart beat quickly. "_More than +two_," he added, in wonder as he strained in the effort of listening. + +The noise died out, and one low wail, continuous and plaintive, filled +the blank of dark silence. Coryndon felt for his matches, and knelt on +the floor, feeling before him with his hands. The crying had ceased, and +he touched the edge of a step. A long, steep flight began just under his +hand. + +He leaned back and held the match-box in his hand, knowing that he +could not venture the descent in the dark, and as he took out a match a +new sound caught his ear. A man was running in the dark. He heard him +stumble over the lower steps as he panted fiercely and he broke into a +cry as he ran, a strange, mad, sobbing cry, and he still gasped and gave +out his wordless wail as he tore past Coryndon and on along the passage +and into the shop. + +Coryndon heard the door bang behind him, he heard the sound of some +heavy thing being dragged before it. The footsteps and the voice were +not those of Leh Shin, and Coryndon knew that Mhtoon Pah had fled like a +man pursued by devils, and had barricaded himself in. + +For a moment Coryndon paused, and then lighted a match. Close under his +feet was the perilous edge of a staircase leading sheer down into a +well-like depth of blackness. A thin scream came up to him, and without +waiting to consider, he ran down quickly. At the bottom he found Mhtoon +Pah's overturned lantern, and relighting it, he followed the +intermittent call of fear that echoed through the damp, cavernous place +he found himself in. + +A closed door stood at the end of a narrow passage, and from the further +side of the door a stifled sound of terror came persistently. Leh Shin +sat in a huddled heap against the door, and Coryndon stooped over him, +throwing the light from the lantern he carried upon him. + +"I looked into his eyes," said the Chinaman, in a weak voice, "and once +more he overcame me. His knife rent my arm, and I fell as though dead." + +Coryndon supported him to his feet. His mind was working quickly. + +"Canst thou stand by thyself?" he asked impatiently. + +The Chinaman gave a nod of assent, and Coryndon hammered on the door, +throwing all his weight against it, until it cracked and fell inwards +under the nervous force of his slight frame. + +What Coryndon expected to see, he did not know. He was following his +natural instinct when he threw aside the chase and capture of Mhtoon Pah +and burst into the cellar-room. It was small and close, and smelt of the +foul, fruity atmosphere of mildew. The ceiling was low, and crouching in +one corner was a small boy, clad only in a loin-cloth, who stared at +them and screamed with fear. + +"The Chinamen, the Chinamen!" he shrieked. "Mhtoon Pah, the Chinamen." + +"Absalom," the name came to Coryndon's lips, as he stood staring at him. +"My God, it must be Absalom." + +He had spoken in English before he had time to think, and he turned to +see if his self-betrayal had struck upon the confused brain of Leh Shin, +but Leh Shin knew nothing and saw nothing but the face of the boy his +enemy loved. He had placed the lamp on the floor and was feeling for his +dagger, his eyes fascinated and his lips working soundlessly. + +Coryndon caught him by the shoulder and snatched his knife from his +hand. + +"Fool," he said. "Wouldst thou ruin all at the end? Listen closely and +attend to me. Now is the moment to cry for the police. Thine enemy is in +a close net; show me swiftly the way by which I may go out of this +house, and sit thou here and stir not, neither cry out nor speak until +thou hearest the police. By the way I go out will I leave the door open, +and some will enter there, and others at the front of the house." + +He turned to look at the boy, who pointed at the Chinaman and continued +to shriek for Mhtoon Pah. It was no moment for hesitation, though +Coryndon's thoughts went to the shop and the front door. By that door +Mhtoon Pah might already have escaped, but even allowing for this, there +was time to catch him again. He followed the way pointed out by the +shaking hand of Leh Shin. + +"If thou fail in aught that I have told thee, or if the boy escape or +suffer under thy hand, then is thine end also come," he said, as he +stood for a moment in the aperture that led into a waste place at the +back of the house; and then Coryndon ran through the night. + +The rain had come on, teeming, relentless rain that fell in pitiless +sheets out of a black sky. The roads ran with liquid mud and the stones +cut Coryndon's bare feet, but he ran on, his lungs aching and his throat +dry. It is not easy to think with the blood hammering in the pulses and +the breath coming short through gasping lungs, but Coryndon kept his +mind fixed upon one idea with steady determination. His object was to +get into the house unnoticed, and to awake Hartley without betraying +himself to the servants. + +Hartley's bungalow was closed for the night, and the _Durwan_ slept +rolled in a blanket in a corner of the veranda. Coryndon held his +sobbing breath and crept along the shadows, watching the man closely +until the danger zone was passed, and then he ran on around the sharp +angle of the house and dived into Hartley's room. In the centre stood +the bed, draped in the ghostly outlines of white mosquito-curtains, and +Coryndon walked lightly over the matted floor and shook the bed gently. +Hartley stirred but did not wake, and Coryndon called his name and +continued to call it in a low whisper. The Head of the Police stirred +again and then sat up suddenly and answered Coryndon in the same low +undertone. + +"Get into your clothes quickly, while I tell you what has happened," +said Coryndon, sitting low in the shadow of the bed, and while Hartley +dressed he told him the details shortly and clearly. + +The bungalow was still in darkness, and, with a candle in his hand to +light him, Hartley went into his office and rang up the Paradise Street +Police Station. When he came back Coryndon was standing looking through +a corner of a raised chick. + +"The _Durwan_ is awake," he said, without turning his head. "Call him +round to the front, otherwise he may see me." + +"Come on, come on, man," said Hartley impatiently, "there is no time to +lose." + +Coryndon turned and smiled at him. + +"This is where I go out of the case," he said. "I shall be back in time +for breakfast to-morrow," and without waiting to argue the point he +dived out into the waning darkness of the night, leaving Hartley looking +helplessly after him. + + + + +XXIV + +IN WHICH A WOODEN IMAGE POINTS FOR THE LAST TIME + + +Before the Burman left Leh Shin in charge of Absalom, he had pinned the +Chinaman by the arms and spoken to him in strange, strong words that +scorched clear across the chaos in his mind and made him understand a +hidden thing. The fact that this man was not a mad convict, but a member +of the great secret society who tracked the guilty, almost stunned the +Chinaman, who knew and understood the immense power of secret societies. + +Mhtoon Pah might be driving wildly along a road leading out of +Mangadone, and though one old Chinaman and a mad Burman could not stop +him, the long arm of police law would grab and capture his gross body. +Leh Shin sat quite still, content to rest and consider this. Telegrams +flashed messages under the great bidding of authority, men sprang armed +from stations in every village, the close grip of fate was not more +close than the grasp of the awakened machinery of justice, and in the +centre of its power Mhtoon Pah was helpless as a fly in the web of a +spider. + +"He travels fast, and fear is sitting on his shoulder, for he travels +to his death," he repeated over and over, swaying backwards and +forwards. + +He had an opium pellet hidden somewhere in his clothes, and he found it +and turned it over his tongue; weariness and sleep conquered the pain, +and Leh Shin sat with his head bent forward in heavy stupor. From this +condition he awoke to lights and noises and the sound of a file working +on iron. + +The police had come and Hartley was bending over the boy, talking to him +kindly and reassuring him as far as he could. Upstairs, the heavy thud +of blows on the outer door of the shop echoed through the house with +steady, persistent sound. + +Dawn had come in real earnest, and the street, but lately returned from +the excitements of the feast at the Pagoda, was thrilled by a new and +much more satisfying sensation. Three blue-coated, leather-belted +policemen were on the top of the steps that led to the door of the curio +shop, forcing it in. The heavy bolts held, and though the padlocked +chain hung idle, the door resisted all their efforts. + +Hartley was down in the cellars, and his way through to the shop was +blocked . . . blocked by the inner door which was also closed from +inside, and somewhere within was Mhtoon Pah. He was very silent in his +shop. No amount of hammering called forth any response, and even when +the door gave way and the bolt fell clattering to the ground, he did not +spring out. + +People had sometimes wondered at the curious destiny of the wooden man. +He had been there so long and had done his duty so faithfully. In rain +or shine alike, he had always been in the street, eternally bowing the +passers up the steps. Americans had tried to buy him, and had wished to +take him home to point at other free and enlightened citizens, but +Mhtoon Pah refused all offers of money. The wooden man was faithful to +him, and he in his turn was, in some way, faithful to the wooden man. He +had been there when Mhtoon Pah was a clerk and had indicated his rise, +he had seen him take over possession of the shop, and he had been +witness to many trivial things, and now he stood, the crowd behind him, +and pointed silently again. It seemed right for him to point, but it was +grotesque that he still smiled and bent forward. + +The closed gates of the dawn opened and let in the sun, and the pale +yellow light ventured across the threshold where the policemen hung +back, and even the crowd in the street were silent. The light fell on a +thousand small things that reflected its rays; it fell on a heavy carved +box drawn across the further entrance, on the swinging glass doors of +the open silk cupboard, on bowls of silver and bowls of brass, and it +fell full on the thing that of all others drew the horrified eyes of the +watchers. + +Mhtoon Pah, the wealthy curio dealer, the shrine builder, the friend of +the powerful, hung from a beam across the centre of the low ceiling, and +Mhtoon Pah was dead, strangled in a fine, silk scarf. Fine, strong silk +made only by certain lake-dwellers in a wild place just across the Shan +frontier. + +Perhaps the destiny which Shiraz believed a man may not escape, be he as +fleet as a flying stag, had caught up with him, and it was not without +reason that the image had pointed at something not there years ago, not +there when youth was there, and hope and love, and when Leh Shin had +lived and been happy there, but to come, certainly and surely to come. + + * * * * * + +Hartley and Coryndon sat long over their breakfast. Coryndon's face was +strained and tired, and heavy lines of fatigue were marked under his +dark eyes. + +"The boy was not in a condition to give any lucid explanation when I +brought him back," said Hartley, "so I left him until we could both hear +his story together." He called to his Bearer and gave instructions for +the boy to be brought in. + +Coryndon nodded silently; his eyes lit up with interest and all his +listlessness vanished as he watched the door. + +Following Hartley's Bearer, a small, thin boy came into the room, +dressed in a white suit, with a tight white pugaree folded round his +head. He shrank nervously at every sound, and when he salaamed to +Hartley and Coryndon his face worked as though he was going to burst +into tears. + +"You have nothing to be afraid of," said Hartley kindly. "Just tell the +whole truth, and explain how it was that you came to be shut up in the +curio shop." + +The boy's eyes grew less terrified, and he began to speak in a low, +mumbling voice. He began in the middle of the account, and Hartley +gently but firmly pushed him back to the beginning. + +"Start with the story of the lacquer bowl," he said, talking very slowly +and clearly. "We want to hear what happened about that first." + +The mention of the subject of lacquer threw Absalom once more into a +state of panic, but as his story progressed he became more sure of +himself, and looked up, forgetting his fear in the excitement of having +a really remarkable story to tell, that was listened to by Sahibs with +intent interest. + +In tearful, stumbling words he admitted that he and Leh Shin's assistant +had been friends, and that those evil communications that corrupt not +only good manners but good morals had worked with disastrous results +upon him. With his brown knuckles to his protruding eyes, he admitted, +further, that he had stolen the gold lacquer bowl from the drugged and +drunken seaman, and that Leh Shin's assistant had plundered him of more +than half his rightful share of the profit. What remained over, he +protested, he intended to give to the "Missen," testifying to the fact +that his conscience was causing him uneasiness and that his natural +superstition made him adopt means, not unknown to other financiers, of +squaring things by a donation to a charitable object. + +He went on to explain that Mhtoon Pah had required him to come back late +by an unfrequented alley, from where his master himself had admitted him +into the basement of the shop. There was nothing altogether unusual +about this, it appeared, as Mhtoon Pah was very strange in his ways at +times. He cooked his own food for fear of poison, and was constantly +suspecting some indefinite enemy of designs upon his life. What was +unusual was the fact that he had been taken at once into the small cell, +and that, once there, Mhtoon Pah had behaved like a madman. + +Absalom could recall no coherent account of what the curio dealer had +told him. He had spoken to him of murder, and told him that the Chinamen +in the Quarter, headed by Leh Shin, were looking for him to kill him, +and that, for his safety, he must remain hidden away. Mhtoon Pah told +him that he would protect him, and that he would produce evidence to +have Leh Shin hanged, and that once he was dead he would then emerge +again, but not until then. He told him how Chinamen killed their +victims, and his fears and terrors communicated themselves to the boy, +who delivered himself up to bondage without resistance. + +For weeks Absalom dragged out a miserable existence, loose when Mhtoon +Pah was in the shop, but chained to the wall whenever he went out, and +only for an hour after midnight was the boy ever allowed to emerge into +the dark, waste garden at the back of the house. The rest of the time +was spent in the cell, and Absalom broke into incoherent wailing as he +called Hartley and Coryndon to witness that it had been a hard life. + +As the end of his story approached, Absalom grew more dramatic and +quoted the parting words of Mhtoon Pah before he went out to attend the +_Pwé_ at the Pagoda. + +"I leave thee in fear," said he, "for thou art the apple of my eye, O +Absalom, and when I am gone some calamity may befall. From whence it +comes I know not, but as men look at the heaped clouds behind the hills +and say, 'Lo, it will soon fall in rain,' so does my heart look out and +observe darkness, and I am ill-satisfied to quit this house." + +His words rang in the mind of the boy, shut into the stifling darkness +below the ground, and he remembered that he cried out for help, not once +but over and over again, and that his cries were eventually answered by +the voice of Leh Shin, who had called him a child of vipers and +threatened to enter and break him against the wall as he would a +plantain. After that Absalom had refrained from crying out, and had +waited silently expecting the door to open and admit Leh Shin and his +last moment simultaneously. Upon the silence came the sounds of +scuffling and hoarse cries, and it seemed to Absalom that Leh Shin had +called out that he had already cut the heart from his ribs, and was +about to force it down Mhtoon Pah's throat, and then nothing was very +clear until voices and lights roused him from stupor to fresh terror and +alarm. + +He knew that the door had been unlocked and that a light travelled in, +held by a strange Burman, and that his terror of Leh Shin had made him +see things strangely, as though from a long way off; until, at the last, +the police had come and knocked the chain off his leg, and someone had +told him that his master was dead and had been found hanging in the +shop. + +Absalom's face quivered and he began to whimper. + +"And now my master is dead, and never in Mangadone shall I find such +another who will care for me and give me the pleasant life in Paradise +Street." + +Hartley handed the boy some money. + +"Take him away," he said to the Bearer. "You have told your story very +well, Absalom." + +He looked across at Coryndon when the room was empty, but Coryndon was +fiddling with some crumbs at the edge of the table. + +"Madness is the real explanation, I suppose," he said tentatively. +"Madness and obsession." + +"Obsession," echoed Coryndon. "That word explains almost every +inexplicable act in life." He took up a knife and held it level on his +palm. "There you have the normal condition, but once one end swings up +you get Genius and all the Arts, or madness and crime and the obsession +of one idea: one definite, over-mastering idea that drives every force +harnessed to its car." + +He got up and stretched his arms, and walked out through the veranda +into his room, where Shiraz was folding his clothes and laying them in +an open portmanteau. The old servant stood up and made a low salaam to +his master. + +"When the sun is down the wise traveller hurries to the Serai," Coryndon +said to him. "I leave to-night for Madras, Shiraz, and you with me." + +"The end of all things is just, Huzoor," replied the old man, a strange +light of reflection in his dim pebble-like eyes. "Is it not written that +none may rise so high, or plunge so deep, that he does not follow the +hidden path to the hidden end? For like a wind that goes and returns +never, or the shadow of a cloud passing over the desert, is the destiny +of a man." + + + + +GLOSSARY + + +_Almirah_ A press +_Babu_ A clerk +_Butti_ Lamp +_Charpoy_ Bed +_Chota haziri_ (Little breakfast) Early morning tea +_Dhobie_ Washerman +_Durwan_ Watchman +_Ghee_ Butter +_Gharry_ Cab +_Gaudama_ Buddha +_Htee_ Topmost pinnacle +_Hypongyi_ Priests +_Inshallah, Huzoor_ God give you fortune, Prince +_Joss_ A god +_Khitmutghar_ Footman +_Loongyi_ Petticoat +_Napi_ Rotten fish +_Nats_ Tree spirits +_Pani walla_ Water carrier +_Pwé_ Feast +_Serai_ Rest house +_Sirkar_ Government +_Syce_ Groom +_Tamasha_ A show +_Thakin_ Master +_Topi_ Hat + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Pointing Man, by Marjorie Douie + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POINTING MAN *** + +***** This file should be named 14049-8.txt or 14049-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/0/4/14049/ + +Produced by Steven desJardins and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Pointing Man + A Burmese Mystery + +Author: Marjorie Douie + +Release Date: November 15, 2004 [EBook #14049] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POINTING MAN *** + + + + +Produced by Steven desJardins and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>THE POINTING MAN</h1> + +<h3><i>A Burmese Mystery</i></h3> + +<h2>BY MARJORIE DOUIE</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<span>NEW YORK</span><br /> +<span>E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY</span><br /> +<span>1920</span> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<h4><a href="#I">IN WHICH THE DESTINY THAT PLAYS WITH MEN MOVES THE PIECES ON THE +BOARD</a></h4> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<h4><a href="#II">TELLS THE STORY OF A LOSS, AND HOW IT AFFECTED THE REV. FRANCIS +HEATH</a></h4> + +<h3>III</h3> + +<h4><a href="#III">INDICATES A STANDPOINT COMMONLY SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT THE +PRINCIPLES OF THE JESUIT FATHERS</a></h4> + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<h4><a href="#IV">INTRODUCES THE READER TO MRS. WILDER IN A SECRETIVE MOOD</a></h4> + +<h3>V</h3> + +<h4><a href="#V">CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, FINDS THAT HIS MEMORY IS NOT TO BE +TRUSTED</a></h4> + +<h3>VI</h3> + +<h4><a href="#VI">TELLS HOW ATKINS EXPLAINS FACTS BY PEOPLE AND NOT PEOPLE BY +FACTS, AND HOW HARTLEY, HEAD OF THE POLICE, SMELLS THE SCENT OF +APPLE ORCHARDS GROWING IN A FOOL'S PARADISE</a></h4> + +<h3>VII</h3> + +<h4><a href="#VII">FINDS THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH READING GEORGE HERBERT'S POEMS, AND +LEAVES HIM PLEDGED TO A POSSIBLY COMPROMISING SILENCE</a></h4> + +<h3>VIII</h3> + +<h4><a href="#VIII">SHOWS HOW THE CLOAK OF DARKNESS OF ONE NIGHT HIDES MANY +EMOTIONS, AND MRS. WILDER IS FRANKLY INQUISITIVE</a></h4> + +<h3>IX</h3> + +<h4><a href="#IX">MRS. WILDER IS PRESENTED IN A MELTING MOOD, AND DRAYCOTT WILDER +IS FORCED TO RECALL THE LINES COMMENCING "A FOOL THERE WAS"</a></h4> + +<h3>X</h3> + +<h4><a href="#X">IN WHICH CRAVEN JOICEY IS OVERCOME BY A SUDDEN INDISPOSITION, +AND HARTLEY, WITHOUT LOOKING FOR HIM, FINDS THE MAN HE WANTED</a></h4> + +<h3>XI</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XI">SHOWS HOW THE "WHISPER FROM THE DAWN OF LIFE" ENABLES CORYNDON +TO TAKE THE DRIFTING THREADS BETWEEN HIS FINGERS</a></h4> + +<h3>XII</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XII">SHOWS HOW A MAN MAY CLIMB A HUNDRED STEPS INTO A PASSIONLESS +PEACE, AND RETURN AGAIN TO A WORLD OF SMALL TORMENTS</a></h4> + +<h3>XIII</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XIII">PUTS FORWARD THE FACT THAT A SUDDEN FRIENDSHIP NEED NOT BE BASED +UPON A SUDDEN LIKING; AND PASSES THE NIGHT UNTIL DAWN REVEALS A +SHAMEFUL SECRET</a></h4> + +<h3>XIV</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XIV">TELLS HOW SHIRAZ, THE PUNJABI, ADMITTED THE FRAILTIES OF +ORDINARY HUMANITY, AND HOW CORYNDON ATTENDED AFTERNOON SERVICE, +AND CONSIDERED THE VEXED QUESTION OF TEMPERAMENT</a></h4> + +<h3>XV</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XV">IN WHICH THE FURTHERING OF A STRANGE COMRADESHIP IS CONTINUED, +AND A BEGGAR FROM AMRITZAR CRIES IN THE STREETS OF MANGADONE</a></h4> + +<h3>XVI</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XVI">IN WHICH LEH SHIN IS BREATHED UPON BY A JOSS AND EXPERIENCES THE +TERROR OF A MAN WHO TOUCHES THE VEIL BEHIND WHICH THE IMMORTALS +DWELL</a></h4> + +<h3>XVII</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XVII">TELLS HOW CORYNDON LEARNS FROM THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH WHAT THE +REV. FRANCIS HEATH NEVER TOLD HIM</a></h4> + +<h3>XVIII</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XVIII">THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH UNLOCKS HIS DOOR AND SHOWS WHAT LIES +BEHIND</a></h4> + +<h3>XIX</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XIX">IN WHICH LEH SHIN WHISPERS A STORY INTO THE EAR OF SHIRAZ, THE +PUNJABI; THE BURDEN OF WHICH IS: "HAVE I FOUND THEE, O MINE +ENEMY?"</a></h4> + +<h3>XX</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XX">CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, IS FACED BY A MAN WITH A WHIP IN HIS +HAND, AND CORYNDON FINDS A CLUE</a></h4> + +<h3>XXI</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XXI">DEMONSTRATES THE PERSUASIVE POWER OF A KNIFE EDGE, AND TELLS A +STORY OF A GOLD LACQUER BOWL</a></h4> + +<h3>XXII</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XXII">IN WHICH CORYNDON HOLDS THE LAST THREAD AND DRAWS IT TIGHT</a></h4> + +<h3>XXIII</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XXIII">DEMONSTRATES THE TRUTH OF THE AXIOM THAT "THE UNEXPECTED ALWAYS +HAPPENS"</a></h4> + +<h3>XXIV</h3> + +<h4><a href="#XXIV">IN WHICH A WOODEN IMAGE POINTS FOR THE LAST TIME</a></h4> + +<h4><a href="#GLOSSARY">GLOSSARY</a></h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_POINTING_MAN" id="THE_POINTING_MAN" />THE POINTING MAN</h2> + +<h2><a name="I" id="I" />I</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH THE DESTINY THAT PLAYS WITH MEN MOVES THE PIECES ON THE BOARD</h3> + + +<p>Dust lay thick along the road that led through the very heart of the +native quarter of Mangadone; dust raised into a misty haze which hung in +the air and actually introduced a light undernote of red into the +effect. Dust, which covered the bare feet of the coolies, the velvet +slippers of the Burmese, which encroached everywhere and no one +regarded, for presently, just at sundown, shouting watermen, carrying +large bamboo vessels with great spouts, would come running along the +road, casting the splashing water on all sides, and reduce the dry +powder to temporary mud.</p> + +<p>The main street of the huge bazaar in Mangadone was as busy a +thoroughfare as any crowded lane of the city of London, and it blazed +with colour and life as the evening air grew cool. There were shops +where baskets were sold, shops apparently devoted only to the sale of +mirrors, shops where tailors sat on the ground and worked at sewing +machines; sweet stalls, food stalls, cafés, flanked by dusty tubs of +plants and crowded with customers, who reclined on sofas and chairs set +right into the street itself. Nearer the river end of the street, the +shops were more important, and business offices announced themselves on +large placards inscribed in English, and in curling Burmese characters +like small worms hooping and arching themselves, and again in thick +black letters which resembled tea leaves formed into the picturesque +design of Chinese writing, for Mangadone was one of the most +cosmopolitan ports of the East, and stood high in the commercial world +as a place for trade.</p> + +<p>Along the street a motley of colour took itself like a sea of shades and +tints. Green, crimson, lemon yellow, lapis-lazuli, royal purple, +intermingled with the naked brown bodies of coolies clad only in +loin-cloths, for every race and class emerged just before sunset. Rich +Burmen clad in yards of stiff, rustling silk jostled the lean, spare +Chinamen and the Madrassis who came to Mangadone to make money out of +the indolence of the natives of a place who cared to do little but smoke +and laugh. Poor Burmen in red and yellow cottons, as content with life +as their wealthy brethren, loitered and smoked with the little +white-coated women with flower-decked heads, and they all flowed on with +the tide and filled the air with a perpetual babel of sound.</p> + +<p>The great, high houses on either side of the street were dilapidated and +gaunt, let out for the most part in flats and tenements. Screaming +children swarmed naked and entirely unconcerned upon every landing, and +out on the verandas that gave publicity to the way of life in the +native quarter. Sometimes a rag of curtain covered the entrances to the +houses, but just as often it did not. Women washed the big brass and +earthenware pots, cooked the food, and played with the children in the +smoky darkness, or sat to watch the evening show of the street.</p> + +<p>At one corner of the upper end of the street was a curio and china shop +owned by a stout and wealthy Burman, Mhtoon Pah. The shop was one of the +features of the place, and no globe-trotting tourist could pass through +Mangadone without buying a set of tea-cups, a dancing devil, a carpet, +or a Burmese gong, from Mhtoon Pah. A strange-looking effigy in tight +breeches, with pointing yellow hands and a smiling yellow face, stood +outside the shop, eternally asking people in wooden, dumb show, to go in +and be robbed by the proprietor. He had stood there and pointed for so +long that the green glaze of his coat was sun-blistered, but he +invariably drew the attention of passing tourists, and acted as a +sign-board. He pointed at a small door up a flight of steps, and behind +the small door was a dark shop, smelling of sandal-wood and cassia, and +strong with the burning fumes of joss-sticks. Innumerable cardboard +boxes full of Japanese dolls, full of glass bracelets of all colours, +full of ivory figures, and full of amber and jade ornaments, were piled +in the shelves. Silver bands, embossed in relief with the history of the +Gaudama—the Lord Buddha—stood under glass protection, and everything +that the heart of the touring American or Britisher could desire was to +be had, at a price, in the curio shop of Mhtoon Pah. Umbrellas of all +colours from Bussan; silk from Shantung; carpets from Mirzapore; silver +peacocks, Japanese embroideries, shell-trimmed bags from Shan and +Cochin, all were there; and the wealth of Mhtoon Pah was great.</p> + +<p>Everybody knew the curio dealer: he had beguiled and swindled each new +arrival in Mangadone, and his personality helped to make him a very +definite figure in the place. He was a large man, his size accentuated +by his full silk petticoat; a man with large feet, large hands and a +round bullet head, set on a thick neck. He had a few sleek black hairs +at the corners of his mouth, and his long, narrow eyes, with thick +yellow whites and inky-black pupils, never expressed any emotion. +Clothed in strawberry-red silk and a white coat, with a crimson scarf +knotted low over his forehead, he was very nearly as strange and +wonderful a sight as his own shop of myriad wares, and his manner was at +all times the manner of a Grand Duke. Mhtoon Pah was as well known as +the pointing effigy outside, but, whereas the world in the street +believed they knew what the wooden man pointed at, no one could ever +tell what Mhtoon Pah saw, and no one knew except Mhtoon Pah himself.</p> + +<p>All day long Mhtoon Pah sat inside his shop on a low divan and smoked +cheroots, and only when a customer was of sufficient importance did he +ever rise to conduct a sale himself. He was assisted by a thin, eager +boy, a native Christian from Ootacamund, who had followed several trades +before he became the shop assistant of Mhtoon Pah. He was useful +because he could speak English, and he had been dressing-boy to a +married Sahib who lived in a big house at the end of the Cantonment, +therefore he knew something of the ways of Mem-Sahibs; and he had taken +a prize at the Sunday school, therefore Absalom was a boy of good +character, and was known very nearly as well as Mhtoon Pah himself.</p> + +<p>It was a hot, stifling evening, the evening of July the 29th. The rains +had lashed the country for days, and even the trees that grew in among +the houses of Paradise Street were fresh and green, though one of the +hot, burning breaks of blue sky and glaring sunlight had baked the road +into Indian-red dust once more, and the interior of Mhtoon Pah's curio +shop was heavy with stale scents and dark shadows that crept out as the +gloom of evening settled in upon it. Mhtoon Pah moved about looking at +his goods, and touching them with careful hands. He hovered over an +ivory lady carrying an umbrella, and looked long at a white marble +Buddha, who returned his look with an equally inscrutable regard. The +Buddha sat cross-legged, thinking for ever and ever about eternity, and +Mhtoon Pah moved round in red velvet toe-slippers, pattering lightly as +he went, for in spite of his bulk Mhtoon Pah had an almost soundless +walk. Having gone over everything and stood to count the silver bowls, +he waited as though he was listening, and after a little the light creak +of the staircase warned him that steps were coming towards the shop from +the upper rooms.</p> + +<p>"Absalom," he called, and the steps hurried, and after a moment's talk +to which the boy listened carefully as though receiving directions, he +told him to close the shop and place his chair at the top of the steps, +as he desired to sit outside and look at the street.</p> + +<p>When the chair was placed, Mhtoon Pah took up his elevated position and +smoked silently. The toil of the day was over, and he leaned his arm +along the back of his chair and crossed one leg over his knee. He could +hear Absalom closing the shop behind him, and he turned his curious, +expressionless eyes upon the boy as he passed down the steps and mingled +with the crowd in the street. Just opposite, a story-teller squatted on +the ground in the centre of a group of men who laughed and clapped their +hands, his flashing teeth and quick gesticulations adding to each point +he made; it was still clear enough to see his alternating expression of +assumed anger or amusement. It was clear enough to notice the coloured +scarves and smiling faces of a bullock cart full of girls going slowly +homewards, and it was clear enough to see and recognize the Rev. Francis +Heath, hurrying at speed between the crowd; clear enough to see the Rev. +Francis stop for a moment to wish his old pupil Absalom good evening, +and then vanish quickly like a figure flashed on a screen by a +cinematograph.</p> + +<p>Lights came out in high windows and sounds of bagpipes and beating +tom-toms began inside the open doors of a nautch house. An evil-looking +house where green dragons curled up the fretted entrance, and where, +overhead, faces peered from a balcony into the street. There was noise +enough there to attract any amount of attention. Smart carriages, with +white-uniformed <i>syces</i>, hurried up, bearing stout, plethoric men from +the wharf offices, and Mhtoon Pah saluted several of the sahibs, who +reclined in comfort behind fine pairs of trotting horses.</p> + +<p>Their time for passing having gone, and the street relieved of the +disturbance, lamps were carried out and set upon tables and booths, but +a few red streaks of evening tinted the sky, and faces that passed were +still recognizable. A bay pony ridden by a lady almost at a gallop came +so fast that she was up the street and round the corner in a twinkling. +If Mrs. Wilder was dining out on the night of July 29th she was running +things close; equally so if she was receiving guests.</p> + +<p>A flare of light from a window opposite fell across the face of the +dancing man, who pointed at Mhtoon Pah, and appeared to make him offer +his principal for sale, or introduce him to the street with an +indicating finger. The gloom grew, calling out the lights into strength, +but the concourse did not thin: it only gathered in numbers, and the +long, moaning hoot of an out-going tramp filled the air as though with a +wail of sorrow at departure. Lascars in coal-begrimed tunics joined in +with the rest, adding their voices to the babel, and round-hatted +sailors from the Royal Indian Marine ships mingled with them.</p> + +<p>All up and down the Mangadone River lights came out. Clear lights along +the land, and wavering torch-lights in the water. Ships' port-holes +cleared themselves in the darkness, ships' lights gleamed green and red +in high stars up in the crows'-nests, or at the shapeless bulk of dark +bows, and white sheets of strong electric clearness lay over one or two +landing-stages where craft was moored alongside and overtime work still +continued. Little sampans glided in and out like whispers, and small +boats with crossed oars, rowed by one man, ferried to and fro, but it +was late, and, gradually, all commercial traffic ceased.</p> + +<p>It was quite late now, an hour when European life had withdrawn to the +Cantonment. It was not an hour for Sahibs on foot to be about, and yet +it seemed that there was one who found the night air of July 29th hot +and close, and desired to go towards the river for the sake of the +breeze and the fresh air. He, too, like all the others, passed along +Paradise Street, passing quickly, as the others had passed, his head +bent and his eyes averted from the faces that looked up at him from easy +chairs, from crowded doorsteps, or that leaned over balconies. He, also, +whoever he was, had not Mhtoon Pah's leisure to regard the street, and +he went on with a steady, quick walk which took him out on to the wharf, +and from the wharf along a waste place where the tram lines ceased, and +away from there towards a cluster of lights in a house close over the +dark river itself.</p> + +<p>The stars came out overhead, and the Southern Cross leaned down; seen +from the river over the twin towers of the cathedral, seen from the +cathedral brooding over the native quarter, seen in Paradise Street not +at all, and not in any way missed by the inhabitants, whose eyes were +not upon the stars; seen again in the Cantonment, over the massed trees +of the park, and seen remarkably well from the wide veranda of Mrs. +Wilder's bungalow, where the guests sat after a long dinner, remarking +upon the heat and oppressiveness of the tropic night. The fire-flies +danced over the trees like iridescent sparks hung on invisible gauze, +and even came into the lighted drawing-room, to sparkle with less +radiance against the plain white walls. Fans whirred round and round +like large tee-totums set near the ceiling, and even the electric light +appeared to give out heat; no breeze stirred from the far-away river, no +coolness came with the dark, no relief from the brooding, sultry heat. +It was no hotter than many nights in any break in the rains, but the +guests invited by Mrs. Wilder felt the languor of the air, and felt it +more profoundly because their hostess herself was affected by it.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder was a dark, handsome woman of thirty-five, usually full of +life and animation, and her dinners were known to be entertainments in +the real sense of the word. Draycott Wilder was no mate for her in +appearance or manner, but Draycott Wilder was marked by the Powers as a +successful man. He took very little part in the social side of their +married life, and sat in the shadow near the lighted door, listening +while his guests talked. The party was in no way different to many +others, and it would have ended and been forgotten by all concerned if +it had not been for the fact that an unusual occurrence broke it up in +dismay. Mrs. Wilder complained of the heat during dinner, and she had +been pale, looking doubly so in her vivid green dress; her usual +animation had vanished, and she talked with evident effort and seemed +glad of the darkness of the veranda.</p> + +<p>Suddenly one of those strange silences fell over everyone, silences that +may be of a few seconds' duration, but that appear like hours. What they +are connected with, no one can guess. The silence lasted for a second, +and it was broken with sudden violence.</p> + +<p>"My God," said the voice of Hartley, the Head of the Police, speaking in +tones of alarm. "Mrs. Wilder has fainted!" She had fallen forward in her +chair, and he had caught her as she fell.</p> + +<p>Very soon the guests dispersed and the bungalow was still for the night. +One or two waited to hear what the doctor had to say, and went away +satisfied in the knowledge that the heat had been too much for Mrs. +Wilder, and, but for that event, the dinner-party would have been +forgotten after two days. Hartley was the last to leave, and the sound +of trotting hoofs grew faint along the road.</p> + +<p>By an hour after midnight nearly the whole white population can be +presumed to be asleep; day wakes early in the East, and there are few +who keep all-night hours, because morning calls men from their beds to +their work, and even this hot, sultry night people lay on their beds and +tried to sleep; but in the small bungalow where the Rev. Francis Heath +lived with a solitary Sapper officer, the bed that he slept in was +smooth and unstirred by restless tossing inside the mosquito net.</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis was out, sitting by the bed of a dying parishioner. He +watched the long hours through, dressed as he had been in the afternoon, +in a grey flannel suit, his thin neck too long and too spare for his +all-around collar, and as he watched sometimes and sometimes prayed, he +too felt the pressure of the night.</p> + +<p>The woman he prayed beside was dying and quite unconscious of his +presence. Now and then, to relieve the strain, he got up and stood by +the window, looking at the lights against the sky and thinking very +definitely of something that troubled him and drew his lips into a +tight, thin line. He was a young man of the type described usually as +"zealous" and "earnest," and a light that was almost the light of +fanaticism shone in his eyes. A dying parishioner was no more of a +novelty to Mr. Heath, than one of Mrs. Wilder's dinner-parties was to +her guests, and yet the woman on the bed appealed to his pity as few +others had done in his experience.</p> + +<p>When the doctor came he nodded to the clergyman and just touched the +hand on the quilt. He was in evening dress, and he explained that he had +been detained owing to his hostess having been taken suddenly ill.</p> + +<p>"Where is Rydal himself?"</p> + +<p>He asked the question carelessly, dropping the pulseless wrist.</p> + +<p>"Who can tell?" said the Rev. Francis Heath.</p> + +<p>"He'd better keep out of the way," continued the doctor. "I believe +there's a police warrant out for him. Hartley spoke of it to-night. She +will be gone before morning, and a good job for her."</p> + +<p>The throbbing hot night wore on, and July the 29th became July the 30th, +and Mangadone awoke to a fierce, tearing thunder-storm that boomed and +crashed and wore itself out in torrents of heavy rain.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II" />II</h2> + +<h3>TELLS THE STORY OF A LOSS, AND HOW IT AFFECTED THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH</h3> + + +<p>Half-way up a low hill rise on the far side of the Mangadone Cantonment +was the bungalow of Hartley, Head of the Police. It was a tidy, +well-kept house, the house of a bachelor who had an eye to things +himself and who was well served by competent servants. Hartley had +reached the age of forty without having married, and he was solid of +build and entirely sensible and practical of mind. He was spoken of as +"sound" and "capable," for it is thus we describe men with a word, and +his mind was adjusted so as to give room for only one idea at a time. He +was convinced that he was tactful to a fault, nothing had ever shaken +him in this belief, and his personal courage was the courage of the +British lion. Hartley was popular and on friendly and confidential terms +with everybody.</p> + +<p>Mangadone, like most other places in the East, was as full of cliques as +a book is of words, but Hartley regarded them not at all. Popularity was +his weakness and his strength, and he swam in all waters and was invited +everywhere. Mrs. Wilder, who knew exactly who to treat with distant +condescension and who to ignore entirely, invariably included him in +her intimate dinners, and the Chief Commissioner, also a bachelor, +invited him frequently and discussed many topics with him as the wine +circled. Even Craven Joicey, the banker, who made very few acquaintances +and fewer intimates, was friendly with Hartley; one of those odd, +unlikely friendships that no one understands.</p> + +<p>The week following upon the thunder-storm had been a week of grey skies +over an acid-green world, and even Hartley became conscious that there +is something mournful about a tropical country without a sun in the sky +as he sat in his writing-room. It was gloomy there, and the palm trees +outside tossed and swayed, and the low mist wraiths down in the valley +clung and folded like cotton-wool, hiding the town and covering it up to +the very top spires of the cathedral. Hartley was making out a report on +a case of dacoity against a Chinaman, but the light in the room was bad, +and he pushed back his chair impatiently and shouted to the boy to bring +a lamp.</p> + +<p>His tea was set out on a small lacquer table near his chair, and his +fox-terrier watched him with imploring eyes, occasionally voicing his +feelings in a stifled bark. The boy came in answer to his call, carrying +the lamp in his hands, and put it down near Hartley, who turned up the +wick, and fell to his reading again; then, putting the report into a +locked drawer, he drew his chair from the writing-table and poured out a +cup of tea.</p> + +<p>He had every reason to suppose that his day's work was done, and that he +could start off for the Club when his tea was finished. The wind rattled +the palm branches and came in gusts through the veranda, banging doors +and shaking windows, and the evening grew dark early, with the +comfortless darkness of rain overhead, when the wheels of a carriage +sounded on the damp, sodden gravel outside. Hartley got up and peered +through the curtain that hung across the door. Callers at such an hour +upon such a day were not acceptable, and he muttered under his breath, +feeling relieved, however, when he saw a fat and heavy figure in Burmese +clothing get out from the <i>gharry</i>.</p> + +<p>"If that is anyone to see me on business, say that this is neither the +place nor the hour to come," he shouted to the boy, and returning to the +tea-table, poured out a saucer of milk for the eager terrier, now +divided between his duties as a dog and his feelings as an animal.</p> + +<p>The boy reappeared after a pause, bearing a message to the effect that +Mhtoon Pah begged an immediate interview upon a subject so pressing that +it could not wait.</p> + +<p>Hartley listened to the message, swore under his breath, and looked +sharply at Mhtoon Pah when he came into the room. Usually the curio +dealer had a smile and a suave, pleasant manner, but on this occasion +all his suavity was gone, and his eyes, usually so inexpressive and +secret, were lighted with a strange, wolfish look of anger and rage that +was almost suggestive of insanity.</p> + +<p>He bowed before the Head of the Police and began to talk in broken, +gasping words, waving his hands as he spoke. His story was confused and +rambling, but what he told was to the effect that his boy, Absalom, had +disappeared and could not be found.</p> + +<p>"It was the night of the 29th of July, <i>Thakin</i>, and I sent him forth +upon a business. Next morning he did not return. It was I who opened the +shop, it was I who waited upon customers, and Absalom was not there."</p> + +<p>"What inquiries have you made?"</p> + +<p>"All that may be made, <i>Thakin</i>. His mother comes crying to my door, his +brothers have searched everywhere. Ah, that I had the body of the man +who has done this thing, and held him in the sacred tank, to make food +for the fishes."</p> + +<p>His dark eyes gleamed, and he showed his teeth like a dog.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, man," said Hartley, quickly. "You seem to suppose that the +boy is dead. What reason have you for imagining that there has been foul +play?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Seem</i> to suppose, <i>Thakin?</i>" Mhtoon Pah gasped again, like a drowning +man. "And yet the <i>Thakin</i> knows the sewer city, the Chinese quarter, +the streets where men laugh horribly in the dark. Houses there, +<i>Thakin</i>, that crawl with yellow men, who are devils, and who split a +man as they would split a fowl—" he broke off, and waved his hands +about wildly.</p> + +<p>Hartley felt a little sick; there was something so hideous in the way +Mhtoon Pah expressed himself that he recoiled a step and summoned his +common sense to his aid.</p> + +<p>"Who saw Absalom last?"</p> + +<p>"Many people must have seen him. I sat myself outside the shop at sunset +to watch the street, and had sent Absalom forth upon a business, a +private business: he was a good boy. Many saw him go out, but no one saw +him return."</p> + +<p>"That is no use, Mhtoon Pah; you must give me some names. Who saw the +boy besides yourself?"</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah opened his mouth twice before any sound came, and he beat his +hands together.</p> + +<p>"The Padre Sahib, going in a hurry, spoke a word to him; I saw that with +my eyes."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Heath?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>Thakin</i>, no other."</p> + +<p>"And besides Mr. Heath, was there anyone else who saw him?"</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah bowed himself double in his chair and rocked about.</p> + +<p>"The whole street saw him go, but none saw him return, neither will +they. They took Absalom into some dark place, and when his blood ran +over the floor, and out under the doors, the Chinamen got their little +knives, the knives that have long tortoise-shell handles, and very sharp +edges, and then—"</p> + +<p>"For God's sake stop talking like that," said Hartley, abruptly. "There +isn't a fragment of evidence to prove that the boy is murdered. I am +sorry for you, Mhtoon Pah, but I warn you that if you let yourself think +of things like that you will be in a lunatic asylum in a week."</p> + +<p>He took out a sheet of paper and made careful notes. The boy had been +gone four to five days, and beyond the fact that the Rev. Francis Heath +had seen and spoken to him, no one else was named as having passed along +Paradise Street. The clergyman's evidence was worth nothing at all, +except to prove that the boy had left Mhtoon Pah's shop at the time +mentioned, and Mhtoon Pah explained that the "private business" was to +buy a gold lacquer bowl desired by Mrs. Wilder, who had come to the shop +a day or two before and given the order. Gold lacquer bowls were +difficult to procure, and he had charged the boy to search for it in the +morning and to buy it, if possible, from the opium dealer Leh Shin, who +could be securely trusted to be half-drugged at an early hour.</p> + +<p>"It was the morning I spoke of, <i>Thakin</i>," said the curio dealer, who +had grown calmer. "But Absalom did not return to his home that night. He +may have gone to Leh Shin; he was a diligent boy, a good boy, always +eager in the pursuit of his duty and advantage."</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry for you, Mhtoon Pah," said Hartley again, "and I shall +investigate the matter. I know Leh Shin, and I consider it quite +unlikely that he has had anything to do with it."</p> + +<p>When Mhtoon Pah rattled away in the yellow <i>gharry</i>, Hartley put the +notes on one side. It was a police matter, and he could trust his staff +to work the subject up carefully under his supervision, and going to the +telephone, he communicated the principal facts to the head office, +mentioning the name of Leh Shin and the story of the gold lacquer bowl, +and giving instructions that Leh Shin was to be tactfully interrogated.</p> + +<p>When Hartley hung up the receiver he took his hat and waterproof and +went out into the warm, damp dusk of the evening. There was something +that he did not like about the weather. It was heavy, oppressive, +stifling, and though there was air in plenty, it was the stale air of a +day that seemed never to have got out of bed, but to have lain in a +close room behind the shut windows of Heaven.</p> + +<p>He remembered the boy Absalom well, and could recall his dark, eager +face, bulging eyes and protuberant under-lip, and the idea of his having +been decoyed off unto some place of horror haunted him. It was still on +his mind when he walked into the Club veranda and joined a group of men +in the bar. Joicey, the banker, was with them, silent, morose, and moody +according to his wont, taking no particular notice of anything or +anybody. Fitzgibbon, a young Irish barrister-at-law, was talking, and +laughing and doing his best to keep the company amused, but he could get +no response out of Joicey. Hartley was received with acclamations suited +to his general reputation for popularity, and he stood talking for a +little, glad to shake off his feeling of depression. When he saw Mr. +Heath come in and go up the staircase to an upstairs room, he followed +him with his eyes and decided to take the opportunity to speak to him.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Joicey?" he asked, speaking to the banker. "You look +as if you had fever."</p> + +<p>"I'm all right," Joicey spoke absently. "It's this infernally stuffy +weather, and the evenings."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad it's that," laughed Fitzgibbon, "I thought that it might be +me. I'm so broke that even my tea at <i>Chota haziri</i> is getting badly +overdrawn."</p> + +<p>"Dine with me on Saturday," suggested Hartley, "I've seen very little of +you just lately."</p> + +<p>Joicey looked up and nodded.</p> + +<p>"I'll come," he said, laconically, and Hartley, finishing his drink, +went up the staircase.</p> + +<p>The reading-room of the Club was usually empty at that hour, and the +great tables littered with papers, free to any studious reader. When +Hartley came in, the Rev. Francis Heath had the place entirely to +himself, and was sitting with a copy of the <i>Saturday Review</i> in his +hands. He did not hear Hartley come in, and he started as his name was +spoken, and putting down the <i>Review</i>, looked at the Head of the Police +with questioning eyes.</p> + +<p>"I've come to talk over something with you, Heath," Hartley began, +drawing a chair close to the table. "Can you remember anything at all of +what you were doing on the evening of July the twenty-ninth?"</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis Heath dropped his paper, and stooped to pick it up; +certainly he found the evening hot, for his face ran with trickles of +perspiration.</p> + +<p>"July the twenty-ninth?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's the date. I am particularly anxious to know if you remember +it."</p> + +<p>Mr. Heath wiped his neck with his handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"I held service as usual at five o'clock."</p> + +<p>Hartley looked at him; there was something undeniably strained in the +clergyman's eyes and voice.</p> + +<p>"Ah, but what I am after took place later."</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis Heath moistened his lips and stood up.</p> + +<p>"My memory is constantly at fault," he said, avoiding Hartley's eyes and +looking at the ground. "I would not like to make any specific statement +without—without—reference to my note-book."</p> + +<p>Hartley stared in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"This is only a small matter, Heath. I was trying to get round to my +point in the usual way, by giving no actual indication of what I wanted +to know. You see, if you tell a man what you want, he sometimes imagines +that what he did on another day is what really happened on the actual +occasion, and that, as you can imagine, makes our job very difficult. I +don't want to bother you, but as your name was mentioned to me in +connection with a certain investigation, I wished to test the truth of +my man's statement."</p> + +<p>Heath stood in the same attitude, his face pale and his eyes steadily +lowered.</p> + +<p>"It might be well for you to be more clear," he said, after a long +pause.</p> + +<p>"Did you go down Paradise Street just after sunset?"</p> + +<p>"I may have done so. I have several parishioners along the river bank."</p> + +<p>"Why the devil is he talking like this and looking like this?" Hartley +asked himself, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"I'm not a cross-examining counsel," he said, with some sharpness. "As +I told you before, Heath, it is only a very small matter."</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis Heath gripped the back of his chair and a slight flush +mounted to his face.</p> + +<p>"I resent your questions, Mr. Hartley. What I did or did not do on the +evening of July the twenty-ninth can in no way affect you. I entirely +refuse to be made to answer anything. You have no right to ask me, and I +have no intention of replying."</p> + +<p>Hartley put his hand out in dismay.</p> + +<p>"Really, Heath, your attitude is quite absurd. I have already told one +man to-day that he was going mad; are you dreaming, man? I only want you +to help me, and you talk as if I had accused you of something. There is +nothing criminal in being seen in Paradise Street after sundown."</p> + +<p>Mr. Heath stood holding by the back of his chair, looking over Hartley's +head, his dark eyes burning and his face set.</p> + +<p>"Come, then," said the police officer abruptly, "who did you see? Did +you, for instance, see the Christian boy, Absalom, Mhtoon Pah's +assistant?"</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis Heath made no answer.</p> + +<p>"Did you see him?"</p> + +<p>"I will not answer any further questions, but since you ask me, I did +see the boy."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Heath; that took some getting at. Now will you tell me if +you saw him again later: I am supposing that you went down the wharf and +came back, shall I say, in an hour's time. Did you see Absalom again?"</p> + +<p>The clergyman stared out of the window, and his pause was of such +intensely long duration that when he said the one word, "No," it fell +like the splash of a stone dropped into a deep well.</p> + +<p>Hartley looked at his sleeve-links for quite a long time.</p> + +<p>"Good night, Heath," he said, getting up, but the Rev. Francis Heath +made no reply.</p> + +<p>Hartley went back to his bungalow with something to think about. He had +always regarded Heath as a difficult and rather violently religious man. +They had never been friends, and he knew that they never could be +friends, but he respected the man even without liking him. Now he was +quite convinced that Heath, after some deliberation with his conscience, +had lied to him, and it made him angry. He had admitted, with the +greatest reluctance, that he had been through Paradise Street, and seen +the boy, and his declaration that he had not seen him again did not ring +with any real conviction. It made the whole question more interesting, +but it made it unpleasant. If things came to light that called the +inquiry into court, the Rev. Francis Heath might live to learn that the +law has a way of obliging men to speak. If Hartley had ever been sure of +anything in his life, he was sure that Heath knew something of Absalom, +and knew where he had gone in search of the gold lacquer bowl that was +desired by Mrs. Wilder. He made up his mind to see Mrs. Wilder and ask +her about the order for the bowl; but he hardly thought of her, his mind +was full of the mystery that attached itself to the question of the +Rector of St. Jude's parish, and his fierce and angry refusal to talk +reasonably.</p> + +<p>He threw open his windows and sat with the air playing on his face, and +his thoughts circled round and round the central idea. Absalom was +missing, and the Rev. Francis Heath had behaved in a way that led him to +believe that he knew a great deal more than he cared to say, and Hartley +brooded over the subject until he grew drowsy and went upstairs to bed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="III" id="III" />III</h2> + +<h3>INDICATES A STANDPOINT COMMONLY SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT THE PRINCIPLES OF +THE JESUIT FATHERS</h3> + + +<p>It was quite early the following morning when Hartley set out to take a +stroll down Paradise Street, and from there to the Chinese quarter, +where Leh Shin had a small shop in a colonnade running east and west. +The houses here were very different to the houses in Paradise Street. +The fronts were brightened with gilt, and green and red paint daubed the +entrances. Almost every third shop was a restaurant, and Hartley did not +care to think of the sort of food that was cooked and eaten within. +Immense lanterns, that turned into coloured moons by night, but they +were pale and dim by day, hung on the cross-beams inside the houses.</p> + +<p>Some half-way down the colonnade, and deep in the odorous gloom, Leh +Shin worked at nothing in particular, and sold devils as Mhtoon Pah sold +them, but without the same success. The door of his shop was closed, and +Hartley rapped upon it several times before he received an answer; then +a bolt was shot back, and Leh Shin's long neck stretched itself out +towards the officer. He was a thin, gaunt figure, lean as the Plague, +and his spare frame was clad in cheap black stuff that hung around him +like the garments of Death itself. Hartley drew back a step, for the +smell of <i>napi</i> and onions is unpleasant even to the strongest of white +men, and told Leh Shin to open the door wide as he wished to talk to +him. Leh Shin, with many owlish blinkings of his narrow eyes, asked +Hartley to come inside. The street was not a good place for talking, and +Hartley followed him into the shop.</p> + +<p>It was very dark within, and a dim light fell from high skylight +windows, giving the shop something of the suggestion of a well. Counters +blocked it, making entrance a matter of single file, and, in the deep +gloom at the back, two candles burned before a huge, ferocious-looking +figure depicted on rice-paper and stuck against the wall. It was hard to +believe that it was day outside, so heavy was the darkness, and it was a +few moments before Hartley's eyes became accustomed to the sudden +change. Second-hand clothes hung on pegs around the room, and all kinds +of articles were jumbled together regardless of their nature. On the +floor was a litter of silk and silver goods, boxes, broken portmanteaux, +ropes, baskets, and on the counter nearest the door a tiny silver cage +of beautiful workmanship inhabited by a tiny golden bird with ruby eyes.</p> + +<p>At the back of the shop and near the yellow circle of light thrown by +the candles, was a boy, naked to the waist, and immensely stout and +heavy. His long plait of hair was twisted round and round on his shaven +forehead, and he stood perfectly still, watching the officer out of +small pig eyes. He was chewing something slowly, turning it about and +about inside a small, narrow slit of a mouth, and his whole expression +was cunning and evil. Leh Shin followed Hartley's glance and saw the +boy, and the sight of him seemed to recall him to actual life, for he +spoke in words that sounded like stones knocking together and ordered +him out of the shop. The boy looked at him oddly for a moment; then +turned away, still munching, and lounged out of the room, stopping on +the threshold of a back entrance to take one more look at Hartley.</p> + +<p>As a rule Hartley was not affected by the peculiarities of the people he +dealt with, but Leh Shin's assistant impressed him unpleasantly. +Everything he did was offensive, and his whole suggestion loathsome. +Hartley was still thinking of him when he looked at Leh Shin, who stood +blinking before him, awaiting his words patiently.</p> + +<p>"Now, Leh Shin, I want to ask you a few questions. Do you sell lacquer +in this shop?"</p> + +<p>The Chinaman indicated that he sold anything that anyone would buy.</p> + +<p>"Do you happen to know that Mhtoon Pah was looking for a bowl of gold +lacquer, and that he sent his boy Absalom here to get it?"</p> + +<p>Leh Shin shook his head. He was a poor man, and he knew nothing. +Moreover, he knew nothing of July the twenty-ninth, he did not count +days. He had not seen the boy Absalom.</p> + +<p>"Let me advise you to be truthful, Leh Shin," said Hartley. "You may be +called upon to give an account of yourself on the evening and night of +July the twenty-ninth."</p> + +<p>Leh Shin looked stolidly at the mildewed clothes and tried to remember, +but he failed to be explicit, and the greasy, obese creature, still +chewing, was recalled to assist his master's memory. He spoke in a high +chirping voice, and looked at Hartley with angry eyes as he asserted +that his master had been ill upon the evening mentioned and that he had +closed the shop early, and that he himself had gone to the nautch house +to witness a dance that had lasted until morning.</p> + +<p>"You can prove what you say, I suppose," said Hartley, speaking to Leh +Shin, "and satisfy me that the boy Absalom was not here, and did not +come here?"</p> + +<p>Leh Shin, moved to sudden life, protested that he could prove it, that +he could call half Hong Kong Street to prove it.</p> + +<p>"I don't want Hong Kong Street. I want a creditable witness," said +Hartley, and he turned to go. "So far as I know, you are an honest +dealer, Leh Shin, and I am quite ready to believe, if you can help me, +that you were ill that night, but I must have a creditable witness."</p> + +<p>When he left the shop, Leh Shin looked at the fat, sodden boy, and the +boy returned his look for a moment, but neither of them spoke, and a few +minutes later the door was bolted from within, and they were once more +alone in the shadows, with the rags, the broken portmanteaux, the relics +of art, and the animal smell, and Hartley was out in the street. He was +pretty secure in the belief that Leh Shin had not seen the boy, and that +he knew nothing of the gold lacquer bowl, but he also believed that +Mhtoon Pah had been far too crafty to tell the Chinaman that anyone +particularly wanted such a treasure of art. Mhtoon Pah, or his emissary, +would have priced everything in the shop down to the most maggot-eaten +rag before he would have mentioned the subject of lacquer bowls.</p> + +<p>There was no mystery connected with the bowl, but there was something +sickening about Leh Shin's shop, and something utterly horrible about +his assistant. Hartley wished he had not seen him, he wished that he had +remained in ignorance of his personality. He thought of him in the +sweating darkness he had left, and as he thought he remembered Mhtoon +Pah's wild, extravagant fancies, and they grew real to his mind.</p> + +<p>It was next to impossible to discover what the truth was about Leh +Shin's illness on the night of July the 29th, and it really did not bear +very much upon the matter, unless there was no other clue to what had +become of the boy. Hartley returned to other matters and put the case on +one side for the moment. On his way back for luncheon he looked in at +Mhtoon Pah's shop. He had intended to pass, but the sight of the little +wooden man ushering him up the steps made him turn and stop and then go +in. Mhtoon Pah sat on his divan in the scented gloom, very different to +the interior of Leh Shin's shop, and when he saw Hartley he struggled to +his feet and demanded news of Absalom.</p> + +<p>"There is none yet," said Hartley, sitting down. "Now, Mhtoon Pah, are +you quite sure that it was Mr. Heath that you saw that evening?"</p> + +<p>"I saw him with these eyes. I saw him pass, and he was going quickly. I +read the walk of men and tell much by it. The Reverend was in a great +hurry. Twice did he pull out his watch as he came along the street, and +he pushed through the crowd like a rogue elephant going through a rice +crop. I have seen the Reverend walking before, and he walked slowly, he +spoke with the <i>Babus</i> from the Baptist mission, but this day," Mhtoon +Pah flung his hands to the roof, "shall I forget it? This day he walked +with speed, and when my little Absalom salaamed before him, he hardly +stopped, which is not the habit of the Reverend."</p> + +<p>"Did you see him come back? Mr. Heath, I mean?"</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah stood and looked curiously at Hartley, and remained in a +state of suspended animation for a second.</p> + +<p>"How could I see him come back?" he said, in a flat, expressionless +voice. "I went to the Pagoda, <i>Thakin</i>. I am building a shrine there, +and shall thereby acquire much merit. I did not see the Reverend return. +Besides, he might not have come by the way of Paradise Street."</p> + +<p>"He might not."</p> + +<p>"It is not known," said Mhtoon Pah, shaking his head dubiously, and then +rage seemed to flare up in him once more. "It is Leh Shin, the +Chinaman," he said, violently. "Let it be known to you, <i>Thakin</i>, they +eat strange meats, they hold strange revels. I have heard things—" he +lowered his voice. "I have been told of how they slay."</p> + +<p>"Then keep the information to yourself, unless you can prove it," said +Hartley, firmly. "I want to hear nothing about it." He got up and looked +around the shop. "I suppose you haven't got the lacquer bowl since?"</p> + +<p>"No, <i>Thakin</i>, I have not got it, neither have I seen Leh Shin, an evil +man. The Lady Sahib will have to wait; neither has she been here since, +nor asked for the bowl."</p> + +<p>Hartley walked down the steps; he was troubled by the thought, and the +more he tried to work out some definite theory that left Mr. Heath +outside the ring that he proposed to draw around his subject, the more +he appeared on the horizon of his mind, always walking quickly and +looking at his watch.</p> + +<p>Through lunch he went over the facts and faced the Heath question +squarely, considering that if Heath knew that the boy was in trouble, +and had connived at his escape, he would be muzzled, but there was +nothing to show that Absalom had ever broken the law. His employer, +Mhtoon Pah, was in despair at his disappearance, his record was +blameless, and he had been entrusted with the deal in lacquer to be +carried out the following morning.</p> + +<p>Looking for Absalom was like tracing a shadow that has passed along a +street on soundless feet, and Hartley felt an eager determination seize +him to catch up with this flying wraith.</p> + +<p>Still with the same idea in his mind, he drove along the principal +roads in his buggy, directing his way towards the bungalow where the +Rector of St. Jude's lived with Atkins, the Sapper. The house was draped +in climbing and trailing creepers, and the grass grew into the red drive +that curved in a half-circle from one rickety gate to another. He came +up quietly on the soft, wet clay, and looked up at the house before he +called for the bearer, and as he looked up he saw a face disappear +quickly from behind a window. After a few minutes the boy came running +down a flight of steps from the back, and hurried in to get a tray, +which he held out for the customary card.</p> + +<p>"Take that away," said Hartley, "and tell the Padré Sahib that I must +see him."</p> + +<p>"The Padré Sahib is out, Sahib."</p> + +<p>The boy still held the tray like a collecting-plate.</p> + +<p>"Out," said Hartley, "nonsense. Go and tell your master that my business +is important."</p> + +<p>After a moment the boy returned again, the tray still in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Gone out, Sahib," he said, resolutely, and without waiting for any more +Hartley turned the pony's head and drove out slowly.</p> + +<p>Twice in two days Heath had lied, to his certain knowledge, and as he +glanced back at the bungalow, a curtain in an upper window moved +slightly as though it had been dropped in haste.</p> + +<p>Just as he turned into the road he came face to face with Atkins, +Heath's bungalow companion, and he pulled up short.</p> + +<p>"I've been trying to call on the Padré," he said, carelessly, "but he +was out."</p> + +<p>"Out," said Atkins, in a tone of surprise. "Why, that is odd. He told me +he was due at a meeting at half-past five, and that he wasn't going out +until then. I suppose he changed his mind."</p> + +<p>"It looks like it," said Hartley, dryly.</p> + +<p>"He hasn't been well these last few days," went on Atkins, quickly, +"said he felt the weather, and he certainly seems ill. I don't believe +the poor devil sleeps at all. Whenever I wake, I can see his light in +the passage."</p> + +<p>"That is bad," Hartley's voice grew sympathetic. "Has he been long like +this?"</p> + +<p>"Not long," said Atkins, who was constitutionally accurate. "I think it +began about the night after the thunder-storm, but I can't say for +certain."</p> + +<p>"Well, I won't keep you." Hartley touched the pony's quarters with his +whip. "I'm sorry I missed Heath, as I wanted to see him about something +rather important."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell him," said Atkins, cheerfully, "and probably he'll look you +up at your own house."</p> + +<p>"Will he, I wonder?" thought the police officer, and he set to work upon +the treadmill of his thoughts again.</p> + +<p>There is nothing in the world so tantalizing, and so hard to bear, as +the conviction that knowledge is just within reach and that it is +deliberately withheld. Heath stood between him and elucidation, and the +more firmly the clergyman held his ground, and the more definitely he +blocked the path, the more sure Hartley became that he did so of set +purpose.</p> + +<p>"But <i>why</i>, <i>why?</i>" he asked himself, as he drove through the Cantonment +towards Mrs. Wilder's bungalow.</p> + +<p>Atkins got off his bicycle and handed it over to his boy as he arrived +at the dreary entrance.</p> + +<p>"The Padré Sahib is out?" he said, in his brisk, matter-of-fact tones.</p> + +<p>"The Padré Sahib is upstairs," said the boy, with an immovable face; and +Atkins went up quickly.</p> + +<p>"Hallo, Heath, I met Hartley just now, and he said you were out."</p> + +<p>Heath looked up from a sheet of paper laid out on the writing-table +before him.</p> + +<p>"I did not feel up to seeing Hartley," he said, a little stiffly. "It is +not a convenient hour for callers, so I availed myself of an excuse."</p> + +<p>"He told me to tell you that it was rather a pressing matter that +brought him here, and I said that I would give you his message, and that +you would probably go round to see him."</p> + +<p>"You said that, Atkins?"</p> + +<p>His face was so drawn and unnatural that Atkins looked at him in +surprise.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I was right?"</p> + +<p>"If Hartley wants to see me," said Heath, in a loud, angry voice, "or if +he wants to come bullying and blustering, he must write and make an +appointment. I have every right to protect myself from a man who asks +personal and most impertinent questions."</p> + +<p>"Hartley, impertinent?" Atkins' eyes grew round.</p> + +<p>"When I say impertinent, I mean not pertinent, or bearing upon any +subject that I intend to discuss with him."</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis Heath got up and walked towards the window, turning his +back upon the room.</p> + +<p>"I don't mix in social politics," said Atkins, soothingly. "But at the +same time, I can't understand you, Heath. What the devil does Hartley +want to know?"</p> + +<p>The clergyman caught at the curtain and gripped it as he had gripped the +back of his chair at the Club.</p> + +<p>"Never ask me that again, Atkins," he said, in a low, hoarse voice. +"Never speak to me about this again."</p> + +<p>Atkins retreated quickly from the room; there was something in the +manner of the Rev. Francis Heath that he did not like, and he registered +a mental vow to let the subject drop, so far as he, a lieutenant in His +Majesty's Royal Engineers, was concerned, and never to allude to it, +either for "fear or favour," again.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV" />IV</h2> + +<h3>INTRODUCES THE READER TO MRS. WILDER IN A SECRETIVE MOOD</h3> + + +<p>Draycott Wilder was a man who hoarded his passions and concentrated them +upon a very few objects. His work came first, and his intense ambition, +and after his work, his wife. She was the right sort of wife for a man +who put worldly success first, and through the years of their marriage +had helped him a great deal more than he ever admitted. Clarice Wilder +was beautiful, and had a surface cleverness combined with a natural gift +of tact that made her an admirable hostess. She could talk to anybody +and send them away pleased and satisfied with themselves, and she had +made the best of Draycott for a good number of years. She had married +him when marriage seemed a big thing and a wonderful thing, and her +country home in Devonshire a small, breathless place where nothing ever +happened, and where life was one long Sunday at Home, and Draycott, back +from the East, had appeared as interesting as a white Othello.</p> + +<p>For a time she received all she needed out of life, and she threw +herself into her husband's promotion-hunger; understanding it, because +she, too, wanted to reign, and it gave her an inexplicable feeling of +respect for him, for Clarice knew that had she been born a man, she, +too, would have worked and schemed and pushed herself out into the front +of the ranks. She combined with him as only an ambitious woman can +combine, and she supplied all he lacked. It filled her mind, and she +never awoke the jealousy that lay like a sleeping python in the heart of +Draycott Wilder. It was when they were in India that Clarice, for the +first time, lost her grip and allowed her senses to get the better of +her common sense, and she became for a brief time a woman with a very +troublesome heart. Hector Copplestone, a young man newly come to the +Indian Civil Service, was sent to their Punjaub station. He made Mrs. +Wilder realize her own charm, he made her terribly conscious that she +was older than him, he made her anxious and distracted and madly, +idiotically in love with him. She forgot that there were other things in +life, she put aside ambition for a stronger temptation, and she did not +care what Draycott thought or supposed.</p> + +<p>No one ever knew what happened, but everyone guessed that Wilder had +made trouble. They left India under the same cloud of silence, and they +reappeared in Mangadone to outside eyes the same couple who had pulled +together for successful years of marriage; and if some whisper, for +whispers carry far in the East, came after them, no one regarded it, and +the Copplestone incident was considered permanently closed. Draycott +Wilder was the same silent man who was the despair of his dinner +partners, and Clarice had her old brilliancy and her old way of making +men pleased with themselves; and though some people, chiefly young +girls, described her as "hard," she represented a centre of attraction, +and her one mad year was a thing of the past.</p> + +<p>Among the men who went to the terraced house in its huge gardens, she +always particularly welcomed Hartley, the Head of the Police. He never +demanded effort, and he had a good nature and a flow of small talk. +Nearly every woman liked Hartley, though very few of them could have +said why. He had fair, fluffy hair and a pink face; he was just weak +enough to be easily influenced, and he fell platonically in love with +every new woman he met without being in the least faithless to the +others. Mrs. Wilder had a corner in her heart for him, and he, in +return, looked upon Mrs. Wilder as a brilliant and lovely woman very +much too good for Draycott. He did not know that he took his ideas from +her whenever she wished him to do so; Mrs. Wilder, like a clever +conjurer, palmed her ideas like cards, and upheld the principle of free +will while she did so, and if she had desired to impress Hartley with +fifty-two new notions he would have left her positive in his own mind +that they were his own.</p> + +<p>Thus, Clarice Wilder may be classed as that melodramatic type that goes +about labelled "dangerous," only she had the wit to take off the label +and to advertise herself under the guise of a harmless soothing mixture.</p> + +<p>The bungalow in which the Wilders lived was an immense place, standing +over a terraced garden beautifully planted with flowers. Steps, covered +with white marble, led from terrace to terrace, and down to a +jade-green lake where water-lilies blossomed and pink lotus flowers +floated. Dark green trees plumed with shaded purple flowers accentuated +the massed yellow of the golden laburnums. The topmost flight of steps +led up to the house, and was flanked on either side with variegated +laurel growing in sea-green pots, and the red avenue, that took its +lengthy way from the main road, curved into a wide sweep outside the +flower-hung veranda.</p> + +<p>Hartley arrived at the house just as Mrs. Wilder was having tea alone in +the big drawing-room, and she smiled up at him with her curious eyes, +that were the colour of granite. Without exactly knowing what her age +was, Hartley felt, somehow, that she looked younger than she was, and +that she did not do so without some aid from "boxes," but he liked her +none the less for that, and possibly admired her more. He sat down and +asked her how she was, and, as he looked at her, he wondered to think +that she had ever fainted. Clearly, she was the last woman on earth who +could be accused of Victorian ways, and to see her in her white lace +dress, dark, distinguished, and perfectly mistress of her emotions, was +to be bewildered at the memory. She treated the question with scant +ceremony, and remarked upon the fact that the night had been hot, and +that everyone had felt it.</p> + +<p>"I've got an excellent reason for remembering the date," said Hartley +reflectively. "By the way, wasn't Absalom, old Mhtoon Pah's assistant, +once a dressing-boy or something in your establishment?"</p> + +<p>"He was, and then he went sick, and took to this other kind of work."</p> + +<p>"He was quite honest, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly honest," said Mrs. Wilder, with a slight lift of her +eyebrows, "and a nice little boy. I hope that question doesn't mean that +you are professionally interested in his past?" she laughed carelessly. +"I am quite prepared to stand up for Absalom; he was the soul of +integrity."</p> + +<p>Hartley put down his cup on the table.</p> + +<p>"The boy has disappeared," he said, talking with interest, for the +subject filled his mind.</p> + +<p>"But when, and how? I saw him quite lately."</p> + +<p>Hartley's round, China-blue eyes fixed upon her.</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me when you saw him?"</p> + +<p>"One night—evening, I should say—I was out riding and I passed him +going towards the wharf, not towards the wharf exactly, but to the +houses that lie out by the end of the tram lines."</p> + +<p>"What evening? I wish you could remember for me."</p> + +<p>"It was the night of my own dinner-party."</p> + +<p>"Then that was July the twenty-ninth?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder looked at him, and bit her lip.</p> + +<p>"Was it the twenty-ninth?" Hartley repeated the question.</p> + +<p>"Probably it was, if you say so. I told you just now that I had Burma +head. But where has Absalom gone to?"</p> + +<p>Hartley took up his cup again and stirred the spoon round and round.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me for pelting you with questions, but did you see Mr. Heath +that evening?"</p> + +<p>"Now, what <i>are</i> you trying to get out of me, Mr. Hartley? Did Mr. Heath +tell you that he had seen me?"</p> + +<p>Hartley stared at his feet.</p> + +<p>"Heath has got Burma head, too, and won't tell me anything. It might +help his memory if you were able to say whether you had seen him or not +that evening."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder's fine eyes glittered into a smile that was not exactly +mirthful or pleasant.</p> + +<p>"I don't see that I can possibly say one way or another. I often do +. . . I often do see him going about the native quarter when I ride +through, but I do not write it down in my book, so it is quite +impossible for me to say."</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, you saw Absalom?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I saw the boy. What a persistent man you are, and you haven't +told me a word yourself."</p> + +<p>"Absalom was to have got a gold lacquer bowl that you ordered from +Mhtoon Pah?"</p> + +<p>"Quite correct," laughed Mrs. Wilder with more of her usual manner. +"That old Barabbas has never sent it to me yet, either. I ordered it a +month ago. I love lacquer because it looks like nothing else, and +particularly gold lacquer."</p> + +<p>"Well, all I can tell you is that Absalom had an order from Mhtoon Pah +to get the bowl the next morning, if it was to be got, and he went away +as usual the night of the twenty-ninth, and never appeared again. Heath +saw him, and you saw him, and that is pretty nearly all the evidence I +can collect."</p> + +<p>"Evidence?" Mrs. Wilder's voice had a piercing note in it.</p> + +<p>"Yes, evidence. You see the only way to trace a man is to find out +exactly who saw him last, and where."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I see. You find out what everyone was doing, and where they were, +and you piece the bits in. It's like a jig-saw, and how very interesting +it must be."</p> + +<p>Hartley laughed.</p> + +<p>"Not what the other people were doing exactly, but where they were. It +is something to know that you saw the boy, but I wish you could remember +if you saw Heath."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder got up and walked to the window.</p> + +<p>"I do hope he will be found. Did he take my lacquer bowl with him?"</p> + +<p>"He had not got it," said Hartley, in his steady, matter-of-fact voice.</p> + +<p>"Are you <i>worried</i> about it?" She turned and looked across the room. +"Why should you be? If Absalom has chosen to leave, I really don't see +why he shouldn't be allowed to go in peace."</p> + +<p>"I don't know that he did <i>choose</i> to leave; that is just the point."</p> + +<p>He was longing to ask her another question about Heath, and yet he did +not like to press her.</p> + +<p>"Here are some callers," she remarked, and then, with a short laugh, "I +wonder if they were out and about that evening. If you go on like this, +Mr. Hartley, you will make yourself the most popular man in Mangadone. +Take my advice and let Absalom come back in his own way. Perhaps he is +looking for my bowl." She turned her head and glanced at some cards that +the bearer had brought in on a tray. "Show the ladies in, Gulab."</p> + +<p>In a few minutes the room was full of voices and laughter, and Mrs. +Wilder became unconscious of Hartley. She remained so unconscious of him +that he felt uncomfortable and began to wonder if he had offended her in +any way. He looked at her from time to time, and when he got up to go +she gave him her hand as though she was only just sure that he was +really there.</p> + +<p>The disappearance of Absalom was taking strange shapes in his mind, and +he had so far come to the conclusion that Heath knew something about +Absalom, and his visit to Mrs. Wilder added the puzzling fact to his +mental arithmetic that Mrs. Wilder knew something about Heath. It was +one thing to corner Heath, but Heath standing behind Mrs. Wilder's +protection, became formidable.</p> + +<p>Yet it was not in the Cantonment that Hartley expected to find any clue +to the vanished Absalom: it was down in the native quarter. Down there +where the Chinese eating-houses were beginning to fill, and where the +night life was only just awaking from its slumber of the day, was where +Absalom, the Christian boy, had last been seen, and it was there, if +anywhere, that he must be searched for and found.</p> + +<p>What possible connection could there be between an upright, Godly man +who went his austere way along the high, cold path of duty, and a woman +whose husband was madly grasping at the biggest prize of his profession? +What link could bind life with life, when lives were divided by such +yawning gulfs of space and class and race? To connect Mrs. Wilder with +Heath was almost as mad a piece of folly as to connect Absalom with the +clergyman, and yet, Hartley argued, he had not set out to do it. +Something that had not begun with any act or question of his had brought +about the junction of the ideas, and he felt like a man in a dark room +trying to make his way to the window, and meeting with unrecognizable +obstacles.</p> + +<p>The small tinkle of the church bell attracted his attention, and, +following a sudden whim, he went into the tin building and sat down near +the door. Mr. Heath did not look down the sparsely-filled church as he +read the evening service, and he prayed with an almost violent fervour. +Certainly to-night the Rev. Francis Heath was praying as though he was +alone, and the odd imploring misery of his voice struck Hartley.—"To +perceive and know the things that we ought to do, and to have grace and +power faithfully to fulfil the same."</p> + +<p>Heath's voice had broken into a kind of sob, the sound that tells of +strain and hysteria, but what was there in Mangadone to make a +respectable parson strained and hysterical?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="V" id="V" />V</h2> + +<h3>CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, FINDS THAT HIS MEMORY IS NOT TO BE TRUSTED</h3> + + +<p>Just as Draycott Wilder stood high in the eyes of the Powers that govern +the Civil Service of India, so, too, in his own way, was Craven Joicey, +the Banker, a man with a solid reputation. If you build a reputation +solidly for the first half of a lifetime, it will last the latter half +without much attention or care, and, contrariwise, a bad beginning is +frequently stronger than any reformation, and stronger than integrity +that comes too late.</p> + +<p>Joicey had begun well, and had, as the saying goes, "made his way." He +was a large, heavy man, representative in figure and slow and careful of +speech. He kept the secrets of his bank, and he kept his own secrets, if +he had any, and was a walking tomb for confidences not known as +"tender." No one would have attempted to tell him their affairs of the +heart, but almost anyone with money to invest would go direct to Craven +Joicey. He had no wife, no child, and, as far as anyone knew, no kith or +kin, and he had no intimate friends. He had one of those strange, shut +faces; a mouth that told nothing, eyes that were nearly as +expressionless as the eyes of Mhtoon Pah, and he had no restless +movements. A plethoric man, Joicey, a man who got up and sat down +heavily, a man who looked at his business and not beyond it, and never +troubled Society. He probably knew that Heath lived in Mangadone, that +was if Heath banked with him; otherwise, he might easily not have known +it.</p> + +<p>He knew of the Wilders. He knew what Draycott Wilder owned, and he knew +that Mrs. Wilder had a very small allowance of her own, paid quarterly +through a Devonshire bank, but more than this he neither knew nor wished +to know of them, and he never went to their house.</p> + +<p>Joicey had not "worn well"; there was no denying that sweating years of +Burmese rains and hot weathers had made him prematurely old. His thick +hair was patched with white, and his face was flabby and yellow. Craven +Joicey was one of those men, who, if he had died suddenly, would have +made people remember that they always thought him unhealthy-looking. +There was nothing, romantic, exciting, or interesting about him; his +mind was a huge pass-book, and his brain a network of facts and figures. +He played no games, went only seldom to the Club, and knew no one in the +place better than he knew Hartley, which was little, but at any rate +Hartley dined once or twice in the year with him, and he occasionally +dined in return with the Head of the Police.</p> + +<p>Hartley was so occupied with his trouble of mind on the subject of +Absalom that he very nearly forgot that he had invited Joicey to dinner +the following Saturday. The police had discovered nothing whatever, and +he had received another visit at his house from the curio dealer. Mhtoon +Pah, in a condition bordering upon frenzy, stated that when he had stood +on his steps in the morning, intending to go to the Pagoda to offer alms +to the priests, he had noticed his wooden effigy and gone down to look +closer at him. The yellow man pointed as was his wont, but over the +pointing hand lay a rag soaked in blood.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah, immense and splendid in his silk, had given forth wild +noises as he produced the rag, noises that reminded Hartley irresistibly +of the trumpeting of elephants, but they were terrible to hear.</p> + +<p>"It is enough," he said, his face quivering. "This is the work of the +Chinamen. They slit his veins, <i>Thakin</i>, they are doing it slowly. The +<i>Thakin</i> can understand that Absalom still lives, his blood is fresh and +red, it is not dead blood that runs like treacle, it is living blood +that spouts out hot, and that steams and smokes. <i>Thakin</i>, <i>Thakin</i>, I +cry for vengeance."</p> + +<p>"I'm doing all I can, Mhtoon Pah," said Hartley, desperately. "I can't +go and arrest Leh Shin on suspicion, because there isn't a vestige of +suspicion attached to the man."</p> + +<p>"Not after this?" Mhtoon Pah pointed to the rag that lay loathsomely on +the table.</p> + +<p>"That may be goat's blood, or dog's blood; we can't say it is +Absalom's," objected Hartley. "Leave the horrid thing there, Mhtoon Pah, +and I will have it analysed later on."</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah gasped and beat his breast.</p> + +<p>"He was a good boy, he attended the Mission with regularity, and they +are doing terrible things. They wind wires around the finger-nails and +the toe-nails until they turn black and drop off. You do not know these +Chinamen, <i>Thakin</i>, as I know them. Have you seen the assistant of Leh +Shin?"</p> + +<p>Hartley wished that he had not; he frequently wished that he had never +seen that man.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah bent near the Head of the Police and spoke in low, sibilant +tones:</p> + +<p>"He is a butcher's mate, <i>Thakin</i>. He is a slayer of flesh. He kills in +the shambles. Oh, it is true. I saw him slit the mouth of a dog with his +knife for his own mirth—"</p> + +<p>"Swine!" said Hartley.</p> + +<p>"Why he left there and went to live with Leh Shin is unknown. He has +secrets. He knows the best mixtures of opium, he knows—"</p> + +<p>"I don't want to hear what he knows."</p> + +<p>"He knows where Absalom is."</p> + +<p>"You only think that," said Hartley, roughly. "It is a dangerous thing +to make these assertions. It is only your idea, Mhtoon Pah."</p> + +<p>The Burman groaned aloud and held the rag between his hands.</p> + +<p>"Put that down," said Hartley. Mhtoon Pah's very agony of desire to find +the boy was almost disgusting, and he turned away from the sight. "There +is no use your staying here, and no use your coming, unless there is +more of this devil's work," he pointed to the blood-stained cloth. +"Leave the thing here, and I will see what the doctors have to say +about it."</p> + +<p>"<i>Thakin</i>, <i>Thakin</i>," said Mhtoon Pah. "The time grows late. My night's +rest is taken from me, and the Chinaman, Leh Shin, walks the roads. I +saw him from my place at sunset. I saw him go by like a cat that prowls +when night falls and it grows dark. He passed by my wooden image of a +dancing man, and he touched him as he passed—" he gave a despairing +gesture with his heavy hands. "Oh, Absalom, Absalom, my grief is heavy!"</p> + +<p>"He will be either found or accounted for," said Hartley, with a +decision and firmness he was far from feeling, and Mhtoon Pah, with bent +head, went away out of the room.</p> + +<p>The rain that had held off all day began to come down in pitiless +torrents, blown in by the wind, and fighting against bolts and bars. It +ruffled the muddy waters of the river, ran along the kennels of the +Chinese quarter, drove the inhabitants of Paradise Street indoors and +soused down over the Cantonment gardens, and battered on the travelling +carriage of Craven Joicey, that came along the road, a waterproof over +the pony's back and another covering the <i>syce</i>, and Joicey sat inside +the small green box, holding the window-strings under his heavy arms.</p> + +<p>Joicey was not a cheerful companion, and in his present mood Fitzgibbon, +the Barrister, would have suited Hartley better; but he had asked +Joicey, and Joicey was on his way, thinking about Bank business in all +probability, thinking of money lent out at interest, thinking of careful +ledgers and neat rows of figures, and certainly not in the least likely +to be thinking of the Chinese quarter, or of a person of so small +account, financially, as Absalom, the Christian native. The river or the +ships or the back lanes of Mangadone might swallow a thousand Absaloms +and make no difference to the Bank, and therefore none to Craven Joicey.</p> + +<p>Absalom, that shadow of the night, had gone to heaven or hell, and left +no bills behind, and it is by bills that some men's memories are +recorded. He was only another grain of red dust blown about by the wind +of Fate, and though the Rector of St. Jude's might consider that, having +been marked by the sign of the Cross, he was in some way different from +the rest, neither Craven Joicey nor Clarice Wilder could be expected to +take very much heed of the fact.</p> + +<p>All stories of disappearance, from time immemorial, have held interest, +and everyone has known of some case which has never been explained or +accounted for. Someone who got into a cab and never appeared again, and +left the impression that he had driven over the edge of the world into +space, for the cab, the cab driver, the horse, the vehicle and the +passenger inside were lost from that moment; someone who went for a +bicycle ride in England, and was found later selling old clothes in +Chicago; someone who went away by train, someone who went away by boat; +the world is full of instances, and they are always tinged with the +greatest mystery of all mysteries, because they foreshadow the ultimate +mystery that awaits the soul of man. For this universal reason, it +might be concluded that Joicey might listen with attention to the story +of Absalom, though his lowly station and his total lack of the most +necessary form of balance, very naturally made him merely a black cypher +of no special account in the eyes of a man of figures.</p> + +<p>Certainly Craven Joicey had not worn well. Hartley noticed it as he +stood taking off his scarf in the hall, and he noticed it again as the +Banker sat sipping a sherry and bitters under the strong light of the +electric lamp. He looked fagged and tired, and though he cheered up a +little as dinner went through, he relapsed into a heavy, silent mood +again, as if he was dragged at by thoughts that had power over him.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing the matter with you, is there, Joicey?" asked his +host. "You don't seem to be up to the mark."</p> + +<p>"What mark?" said Joicey, with a laugh. "Up to your mark, Hartley, or my +own mark, or someone else's mark? The average mark in Mangadone is low +water. There have been a lot of defaulters this year, and even admitting +that the place is rich, there is a good deal more insolvency about than +I like or than the directors care for. It keeps me grinding and +grinding, and wears the nerves."</p> + +<p>"By George," said Hartley, "I should have said that my own job was about +the most nerve-tattering of any. I had an interview with Mhtoon Pah this +afternoon that shook me up a bit."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I heard that his boy has disappeared."</p> + +<p>The door between the dining-and the drawing-room was thrown open, and +dinner announced as Joicey spoke, and the conversation took another +turn. Many things were bothering Joicey—the financial year generally, a +big commercial failure, the outlook for the rice crop—and as the meal +wore on he grew more dreary, and a pessimism that is part of some men's +minds tinged everything he touched.</p> + +<p>"Did Rydal's disappearance affect you at all, personally?" Hartley +asked, with some show of interest.</p> + +<p>"Not personally, but it cost the Bank close upon a quarter of a lakh." +Joicey drummed his square-topped fingers on the table. "I can't imagine +how he managed to get away."</p> + +<p>Hartley frowned.</p> + +<p>"I had all the landing-stages carefully watched, and the plague police +warned. He must have gone before the warrant was out, that is, if he has +ever left the country at all."</p> + +<p>Joicey shrugged his heavy shoulders.</p> + +<p>"In any case, the man's not much use to us, and the money has gone. I'm +not altogether sorry he got away." His eyes grew full of brooding +shadows and he sat silent, still tapping the cloth with his fingers.</p> + +<p>"It's an odd coincidence," said Hartley, and his face grew keen again. +"Mhtoon Pah's boy, Absalom, disappeared that same night. I wish you +could tell me, Joicey, if you saw Heath that evening when you went down +Paradise Street. It was the same evening that the Bank laid their +information against Rydal, the twenty-ninth."</p> + +<p>Joicey had just poured himself out a glass of port, and was raising it +to his lips as Hartley spoke, and the hand that held the glass jerked +slightly, splashing a little of the wine on to the front of his white +shirt. Joicey did not set the glass back on to the table, he held it +between him and the light, and eyed it, or, rather, it should be said +that he watched his own hand, and when he saw that it was quite steady +he set down the wine untasted.</p> + +<p>"Paradise Street? I never go down there. I wasn't in Mangadone that +night," his face was dead white with a sick, leprous whiteness. "If +Heath said he saw me, Heath was wrong."</p> + +<p>"Heath didn't say so," said Hartley. "It was the policeman on duty at +the corner who said that he had seen you."</p> + +<p>"I tell you I wasn't in the place," said Joicey again.</p> + +<p>Hartley coughed awkwardly.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you weren't there, you weren't there," he said, pacifically.</p> + +<p>"And Heath, what did Heath say?"</p> + +<p>"I told you he said nothing, except that he had seen Absalom. I can't +understand this business, Joicey; directly I ask the smallest question +about that infernal night of July the twenty-ninth I am always met in +just the same way."</p> + +<p>"I know nothing about it," said Joicey, shortly. "I wasn't here and I +don't know what Heath was doing, so there's no use asking me questions +about him."</p> + +<p>The Banker relapsed into his former dull apathy, and leaned back in his +chair.</p> + +<p>"I've had insomnia lately," he said, after a perceptible pause. "It +plays the deuce with one's nerves. I believe I need a change. This +cursed country gets into one's bones if one stays out too long. I've +forgotten what England looks like and I've got over the desire to go +back there, and so I rot through the rains and the steam and the tepid +cold weather, and it isn't doing me any good at all."</p> + +<p>They walked into the drawing-room, Hartley with his hand on Joicey's +shoulder. The Banker sat for a little time making a visible effort to +talk easily, but long before his usual hour for leaving he pulled out +his watch and looked at it.</p> + +<p>"It may seem rude to clear off so soon, but I'm tired, Hartley, and +shall be much obliged if I may shout for my carriage."</p> + +<p>He looked tired enough to make any excuse of exhaustion or ill-health +quite a valid one, and Hartley was concerned for his friend.</p> + +<p>"Don't overdo it, Joicey," he said.</p> + +<p>"Overdo what?"</p> + +<p>Joicey got up with the heavy lift of an old, weary man, and yet there +was not two years between him and Hartley.</p> + +<p>"The insomnia," said Hartley.</p> + +<p>"Good night," replied Joicey shortly, and closed the carriage-door +behind him.</p> + +<p>He drove along the dark roads, his arms in the window-straps and his +head bent forward. The head of the Mangadone Banking Firm was suffering, +if not from insomnia, from something that was heavier than the heaviest +night of sleeplessness, and something that was darker than the dark +road, and something that was deep as the brown waters that carried +outgoing craft to sea.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI" />VI</h2> + +<h3>TELLS HOW ATKINS EXPLAINS FACTS BY PEOPLE AND NOT PEOPLE BY FACTS, AND +HOW HARTLEY, HEAD OF THE POLICE, SMELLS THE SCENT OF APPLE ORCHARDS +GROWING IN A FOOL'S PARADISE</h3> + + +<p>Social life went its way in Mangadone much as it had before the 29th of +July, but Hartley was not allowed to rest and feel comfortable and easy +for very long. Mhtoon Pah waylaid him in the dark when he was riding +home from the Club, and waited for him for hours in his bungalow. Like +his own shadow, Mhtoon Pah followed him and dogged his comings and +goings, always with the same imploring tale, but never with any further +evidence. Leh Shin was officially watched, and Leh Shin's assistant was +also under the paternal eye of authority, but all that authority could +discover about him was that he led a gay life, gambled and drugged +himself, hung about evil houses, and had been seen loitering in the +vicinity of the curio shop; but, as Paradise Street was an open +thoroughfare, he had as much right to be there as any leprous beggar.</p> + +<p>Hartley's peace of mind was soon shattered again, this time by a new +element that Hartley had not thought of, and so he was caught in another +net without any previous warning.</p> + +<p>Atkins, the rector of St. Jude's bungalow companion, was a dry little +man, adhering to simple facts, and neither a sensationalist nor an +alarmist; therefore his words had weight. He was a small man, always +dressed in clothes a little too small, with his whole mind given up to +the subject of his profession; besides which he was religious, a +non-smoker, a teetotaller, and particular upon these points.</p> + +<p>Being but little in the habit of going into Mangadone society, he seldom +met Hartley except at the Club, and it was there that he ran him into a +corner and asked for a word or two in private. Hartley took him out into +the dim green space where basket chairs were set at intervals, and +drawing two well away from the others, sat down to listen.</p> + +<p>Sweet scents were wafted up on the evening air, and drowsy, dark clouds +followed the moonlike heavy wisps of black cotton-wool, drowning the +light from time to time and then clearing off again; and all over the +grass, glimmering groups of men in white clothes and women in trailing +skirts filled the air with an indistinct murmur of sound.</p> + +<p>"It is understood at the outset," began Atkins, clearing his throat with +a crowing sound, "that what I have to say is said strictly in a private +and confidential sense. I only say it because I am driven to do so."</p> + +<p>Hartley's basket chair squeaked as he moved, but he said nothing, and +Atkins dropped his voice into an intimate tone and went on:</p> + +<p>"You came to see Heath one day lately, and I told you he was ill. Well, +so he was, but there are illnesses of the mind as well as of the body, +and Heath was mind-sick. I am a light sleeper, Hartley. I wake at a +sound, and twice lately I have been awakened by sounds."</p> + +<p>"The <i>Durwan</i>," suggested Hartley.</p> + +<p>"Not the <i>Durwan</i>. If it had been, I would not have spoken to you about +it. Heath has been visited towards morning by a man, and it was the +sound of voices that awoke me. It is no business of mine to pry or to +talk, and I would say nothing if it were not that I admire and respect +Heath, and I believe that he is in some horrible difficulty, out of +which he either will not, or cannot, extricate himself."</p> + +<p>"Who was the man?"</p> + +<p>Atkins ignored the question.</p> + +<p>"I admit that I listened, but I overheard almost nothing, except just +the confused sounds of talking in low voices, but I heard Heath say, 'I +will not endure it, I am bearing too much already.' I think he spoke +more to himself than to the man in his room, but it was a ghastly thing +to hear, as he said it."</p> + +<p>"Go on," said Hartley. "Tell me exactly what happened."</p> + +<p>"I heard the door on to the back veranda open, and I heard the sound of +feet go along it—bare feet, mind you, Hartley—and then I went to +sleep. That was a week ago."</p> + +<p>"And something of the same nature has occurred since?"</p> + +<p>Atkins dried his hands with his handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"I said something to Heath at breakfast about having had a bad night, +and he got up at once and left the table. After that nothing happened +until last night. I had been out all day, and came home dog-tired. I +turned in early and left Heath reading a theological book in the +veranda. I said, I remember, 'I'm absolutely beat, Padré; I have had +enough to-day to give me nine or ten hours without stirring,' and he +looked up and said, 'Don't complain of that, Atkins; there are worse +things than sound sleep.' It struck me then that he hadn't known what it +was for weeks, he looked so gaunt and thin, and I thought again of that +other night that we had neither of us spoken about."</p> + +<p>"Heath never explained anything?"</p> + +<p>"No, I never asked him to."</p> + +<p>"What happened then?" Hartley's voice was hardly above a whisper, and he +leaned close to Atkins to listen.</p> + +<p>"I slept for hours, fairly hogged it until it must have been two or +three in the morning, judging by the light, and then I awoke suddenly, +the way one wakes when there is some noise that is different to usual +noises, and after a moment or two I heard the sound of voices, and I got +out of bed and went very quietly into the veranda. Heath's lamp was +burning, his room is at the far end from mine, and I stood there, +shivering like a leaf out of sheer jumps. I had a regular 'night attack' +feeling over me. I heard a chair pushed back, and I heard Heath say in a +low voice 'If you come here again, or if you dog me again, I'll hand you +over to the police,' and the man laughed. I can't describe his laugh; +it was the most damnable thing I ever listened to, and I thought of +running in, but something stopped me, God knows why. 'Take your pay,' +said Heath; I heard him say it, and then I heard the door open again, +and the same sound of feet." He shivered. "They stopped outside my room, +and I caught the outline of a head, a huge head and enormous, heavy +shoulders, and then he was gone."</p> + +<p>"Why the devil didn't you raise the alarm?" Hartley's voice was angry. +"You've got a policeman on the road. Why didn't you shout?"</p> + +<p>"Because I was thinking of Heath," said Atkins a little stiffly. "He is +the man we have both got to think about. Some devil of a native is +blackmailing him, and Heath is one of the best and straightest men I +know. Not one item of all this mystery goes against him in my mind, but +what I want you to do, is to have the bungalow watched."</p> + +<p>"I shall certainly do that," said Hartley with decision. "And as for +your opinion of Heath—well, it strikes me as curious that a man of good +character should be a mark for blackmail."</p> + +<p>"I explain facts by people, not people by facts," said Atkins hotly. +"And I have told you—"</p> + +<p>"I think it is only fair to say that you have told me something that +lays Heath under suspicion," said Hartley, slowly. "He behaved very +oddly, lately, when I asked him a simple question, and he chose to +refuse to see me when I went to his house. All that was a small matter, +but what you tell me now is serious."</p> + +<p>"Serious for Heath, and for that very reason I particularly want him +protected. But as for suspicion, I know the man thoroughly, and that is +quite absurd." Atkins got up and terminated the interview. "It is absurd +to talk of suspicion," he said again, irritably. "I hope you will drop +that attitude, Hartley. If I had imagined for a moment that you were +likely to adopt it, I should have kept my mouth shut."</p> + +<p>He went away, his narrow shoulders humped, and his whole figure +testifying to his annoyance, and Hartley sat alone, watching the +moonlight and thinking his own thoughts. He was interrupted by a woman's +voice, and Mrs. Wilder sat down in the chair left vacant by Atkins.</p> + +<p>"What are you pondering about, Mr. Hartley? Are you seeing ghosts or +moon spirits? You certainly give the idea that you are immensely +preoccupied."</p> + +<p>"Do I?" Hartley laughed awkwardly. "Well, as a matter of fact, I was not +thinking of anything very pleasant."</p> + +<p>"Can I help?"—her voice was very soft and alluring.</p> + +<p>"No one can, I am afraid."</p> + +<p>She touched his arm with a little intimate gesture, and her eyes shone +in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>"How can you say that? If I were in any sort of fix, or in any sort of +trouble, I would ask you to advise me, and to tell me what to do, before +I would go to anyone else, even Draycott, and why should you leave me +outside your worries?"</p> + +<p>"You see, that's just it, they aren't exactly mine. If they were I +would tell you, but I can't tell you, because what I was thinking about +was connected entirely with someone else."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder's eyes narrowed, and she lifted her slightly pointed nose a +very little.</p> + +<p>"Ah, now you make me inquisitive, and that is most unfair of you. Don't +tell me anything, Mr. Hartley, except just the name of the person +concerned. I'm very safe, as you know. Could you tell me the name, or +would it be wrong of you?"</p> + +<p>"The name won't convey very much to you," said Hartley, laughing. "I was +thinking of the Padré, Heath. That doesn't give you much clue, does it?"</p> + +<p>It was too dark for him to see a look that sprang into Mrs. Wilder's +eyes, or perhaps Hartley might have found a considerable disparity +between her look and her light words.</p> + +<p>"Poor Mr. Heath, he is one of those terribly serious, conscientious +people, who go about life making themselves wretched for the good of +their souls. He ought to have lived in the Middle Ages. I won't ask you +<i>why</i> you are thinking about him"—she got up and lingered a little, and +Hartley rose also—"but you know that you should not think of anyone +unless you want to make others think of them, too; it isn't at all safe. +I shall have to think of Mr. Heath all the way home, and he is <i>such</i> a +gaunt, scraggy kind of thought."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could replace him with myself," said Hartley, in a burst of +admiration.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder accepted his compliment graciously and walked across the +grass to the drive, where her car panted almost noiselessly, as is the +way of good cars, and he put her in with the manner of a jeweller +putting a precious diamond pendant into a case. He watched the car +disappear, and considered that some men are undeservedly lucky in this +life.</p> + +<p>Hartley was nearly forty, that dangerously sentimental age, and he began +to wonder if, by chance, he had met Clarice Wilder years ago in a +Devonshire orchard, life might not have been a wonderful thing. He +called her a "sweet woman" in his mind, and it was almost a pity that +Mrs. Wilder did not know, because her sense of humour was subtle and +acute, and she would have thoroughly enjoyed the description of herself. +She could read Hartley as quickly as she could read the telegrams in the +<i>Mangadone Times</i>, and she could play upon him as she played upon her +own grand piano.</p> + +<p>She had not asked any questions, and she knew nothing of what Atkins had +said about Heath; but her face was set and tense as she drove towards +her bungalow. She was certainly thinking very definitely, quite as +definitely as Hartley had been thinking as he watched the moonlight +playing hide-and-seek with the shadows of the palm branches and the +darkness of the trees, and her thoughts left no pleasant look upon her +face or in her eyes; and yet Hartley, on his way to the bungalow where +he lived, was thinking of her in a white dress and a shady hat, with a +fleecy blue and white sky overhead and the scent of apple-blossom in the +air.</p> + +<p>The power of romance is strong in adolescence, but it is stronger still +when the turnstile of years is reached and there is finality in the air. +Hartley was built for platonics; Fate gave him the necessary touch of +the commonplace that dispels romance and replaces it with a kind of +deadly domesticity; and yet Hartley was unaware of the fact.</p> + +<p>He had never thought of being "in love" with Mrs. Wilder, partly because +he felt it would be "no use," and partly because she had never seemed to +expect it from him, but as he walked along the road he began to find +that her manner had of late altered considerably. She seemed to take an +interest in him, and though she had always been his friend, her new +attitude was charged with invisible electricity.</p> + +<p>So far as Mrs. Wilder was concerned, Hartley was to her what a sitting +hen would be to a sporting man. You couldn't shoot the confiding thing; +but you might wring its neck if necessary, or push it out of the way +with an impatient foot. She knew her power over him to a nicety, and she +knew of his secret desire for "situations," because her instinct was +never at fault; but she felt nothing more than contempt, slightly +charged with pity towards him. Hartley was a good-natured, idiotic man, +and Hartley had principles; Clarice Wilder had none herself, though she +felt that they were definite factors in any game, but she also believed +that principles were things that could be got over, or got at, by any +woman who knew enough about life to manage such as Hartley.</p> + +<p>All the same, it was not of Hartley that she thought. She had been quite +truthful when she said that he had suggested Heath to her mind, and +that she would have to consider his gaunt face and hollow cheeks during +her drive.</p> + +<p>If he had sat on the vacant seat beside her, the Rev. Francis Heath +could hardly have been more clearly before her eyes, and could hardly +have drawn her mind more strongly, and it was because of her thought of +him that she preserved her steady look and strange eyes.</p> + +<p>A strong woman, a woman with character, a woman who once she saw her +way, was able to follow it faithfully, wherever it twisted, wherever it +wound, and wherever it eventually brought her. No one could picture her +flinching or turning back along a road she had set out to follow; if it +had run in blood, she would have gone on in bare feet, not picking her +steps, and yet Hartley dreamed of apple orchards and an Eve in a white +muslin dress.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII" />VII</h2> + +<h3>FINDS THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH READING GEORGE HERBERT'S POEMS, AND LEAVES +HIM PLEDGED TO A POSSIBLY COMPROMISING SILENCE</h3> + + +<p>The Reverend Francis Heath was sitting in his upstairs room, for of late +he had avoided the veranda. It was the leisure hour of the day, the slow +hour when the light wanes and it is too early to call for a lamp; the +hour when memory or fear can both be poignant in tropical climates.</p> + +<p>The house was very still, Atkins had gone to the Club and the servants +had all returned to their own quarters. Outside, noises were many. +Birds, with ugly, tuneless notes that were not songs but cries, flitted +in the trees, and the rumble of traffic on the road came up in the +evening air, broken occasionally by the shrill persistence of an exhaust +whistle or the clamour of a motor-horn, and above all other sounds the +long-drawn, occasional hoot from a ship anchored in the river highway. +There was noise, and to spare, outside, but within everything was still, +except for the chittering of a nest of bats in the eaves, and the +sudden, relaxing creak of bamboo chairs, that behave sometimes as though +ghosts sat restlessly in their arms.</p> + +<p>The sunlight that fell into the garden and caught its green, turning it +into flaming emerald, climbed in at Mr. Heath's window, and lay across +his writing-table; it touched his shoulder and withdrew a little, +touched the lines on his forehead for a moment, touched the open book +before him, and fell away, followed by a shadow that grew deeper as it +passed. It faded out of the garden like a memory that cannot be held +back by human striving. The distances turned into shadowy blue, and from +blue to purple, until only a few flecks of golden light across the +pearl-silver told that it was gone eternally; that its hour was spent, +for good or ill, and that Mangadone had come one evening nearer to the +end of measureless Time; but the Rev. Francis Heath did not regard its +going. His face was sad with a terrible, tragic sadness that is the +sadness of life and not death, and yet it was of death and not of life +that he thought. A little book of George Herbert's poems lay open before +him and he had been reading it with a scholar's love of quaint +phraseology:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"I made a posy, while the days ran by;<br /></span> +<span>Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My life within this band.<br /></span> +<span>But Time did beckon to the flowers, and they,<br /></span> +<span>By noon, most cunningly did steal away,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And wither'd in my hand."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He read the lines over and over again, and gave a deep, heart-broken +sigh, bending his face between his hands, and bowing his shoulders as +though under a heavy weight. His gaunt frame was thin and spare, his +black alpaca coat hung on it like a sack, and his whole attitude spoke +of sorrow. He might have been the presentment of an unwilling ghost, who +stood with the Ferryman's farthing under his palm, waiting to be taken +across the cheerless, dark waters to a limbo of drifting souls. He took +his hands from before his face and clasped them over the book, looking +out of the window to the evening shadows, as if he tried to find peace +in the very act of contemplation.</p> + +<p>The sad things he came in daily contact with had conquered his faith in +life, though they had not succeeded in killing his trust in God's +eventual plan of redemption; and his mind wandered in terrible places, +places he had forced his way into, places he could never forget. He +suffered from all a reformer's agony, an agony that is the small +reflection of the great story of the mystic burden heavy as the sins of +the whole world, and he tried, out of the simple, childlike fancy of the +words he read, to grasp at a better mind.</p> + +<p>Heath was one of those men who could not understand effortless faith; he +was crushed by his own lack of success, and bowed down by his own +failure. Since he could not rout the enemy single-handed, he believed +that the battle was against the Hosts of the Lord. He knew no leisure +from the war of his own thoughts, and as he clasped his hands, his face +grew tense and set, and his eyes haggard and terrible. For a moment he +sat very still, and his eyes followed the lines written by a man who had +the faith of a little child:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"But Time did beckon to the flowers, and they,<br /></span> +<span>By noon, most cunningly did steal away."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Heath had never gathered flowers, either as a lesson to himself or a +gift for others; they hardly spoke of careless beauty to him, they were +emblems of lightness and thoughtlessness, and Heath had no time to stop +and consider the lilies of the field.</p> + +<p>He moved suddenly like a man who is awakened from a thought heavier than +sleep, and listened with a hunted look, the look of a man who is afraid +of footsteps; he stood up, gathering his loose limbs together and +watching the door. Steps came up the staircase, steps that stumbled a +little, and if Heath had possessed Mhtoon Pah's art of reading the walk +of his fellow creatures, he would have known that he might expect a +woman and not a man.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Heath," a low voice called in the passage, and Heath's tension +relaxed, giving place to surprise.</p> + +<p>The voice was strange to him, and he passed his handkerchief over his +face and walked to the door, just as his name was called again, in the +same low, penetrating voice.</p> + +<p>"Who wants me?" he asked, almost roughly, and then he saw a tall, dark +woman standing at the top of the staircase.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Wilder," he said in surprise, and she made a little imperious +movement with her hand.</p> + +<p>"I did not call your servant, I came up, because I wanted to find you +alone. You are alone?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, I am alone."</p> + +<p>"May I come in?"</p> + +<p>Heath held the door open for her to pass, and she walked in, looking +around the darkening room with hard, curious eyes.</p> + +<p>She took the chair he gave her, in silence, and sat down near the +writing-table, and, feeling that she would speak after a time, Heath +took his own place again and waited.</p> + +<p>"I hardly know where to begin," she said, always speaking in the same +low, intent voice. "Do you recall the evening of the twenty-ninth?"</p> + +<p>An odd spasm caught Heath's face, and he paused for a moment before he +answered.</p> + +<p>"I do recall it."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you remember seeing me? I was riding along the road when I +first passed you, and you were walking."</p> + +<p>"I remember that I did pass you then, and also that I saw you later."</p> + +<p>Heath's sombre eyes were on her face, and his fingers touched a gold +cross that hung from his watch-chain.</p> + +<p>"You passed me, and you passed Absalom, the Christian boy, and you have +been questioned about Absalom."</p> + +<p>"I have," he said heavily. "Why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder took a quick breath.</p> + +<p>"Because I am afraid that you may be asked again. You understand, Mr. +Heath, that I know it was the merest chance that brought you there that +evening, but, as you were there, and as Mr. Hartley has got it into his +head that you know something more than you have told him, I beg of you +to bear in mind that if you mention my name you may get me into serious +trouble. You would not do that willingly, I think?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly would not. What motive took you there is a question for +your own conscience. It is not for me to press that question, Mrs. +Wilder."</p> + +<p>She pressed her lips together tightly.</p> + +<p>"I went there to see an old friend who was in great trouble."</p> + +<p>"And yet you have to keep it secret?"</p> + +<p>"Haven't we all our secrets, Mr. Heath?" Her voice was raised a little. +"Will you pledge me your solemn word to keep this knowledge from anyone +who asks?" She put her elbows on the table and drew closer to him.</p> + +<p>"I will respect your confidence," he said slowly. "But is it likely that +Hartley will ask me?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder made a gesture of denial.</p> + +<p>"I <i>think</i> not, but who can tell? This thing has been like lead on my +mind and will not let me rest. Oh, Mr. Heath, if you knew what I have +already paid, you would be sorry for me."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," he said gently. "More sorry for you than you can tell. +You, too, saw Absalom, and spoke to him?"</p> + +<p>"He has nothing to do with what I came here about,"—her tone grew +impatient. "I only wanted to make sure that I was safe with you. It was +no little thing that drove me to come. I am a proud woman, Mr. Heath, +and I do not usually ask favours, yet I ask you now—"</p> + +<p>"Not a favour," he said, taking her up quickly. "God knows I have every +reason to help you if I can. Does Hartley suspect you? Does he question +you? Does he try to wring admissions out of you?"</p> + +<p>In the darkness Heath's voice rang hard and, metallic, like the voice of +a man whose thoughts return upon something that maddens him.</p> + +<p>"He has not done so, but he has asked me questions that made me +frightened. It is a terrible thing to be afraid."</p> + +<p>"And Joicey?" said Heath in a quiet voice. "I saw Joicey, but he did not +stop to speak to me. Has he, too, been interrogated?"</p> + +<p>"So far as I know, he has not. But this question presses only on me. +What took you there is, I feel sure, easily accounted for, and what took +Mr. Joicey there is not likely to be a matter of the smallest +importance; it is <i>I</i> who suffer, it is on me that all this weight lies. +If the police begin investigations they come close upon the fact that I +went there to meet a man whom my husband has forbidden me to meet. Any +little turn of evidence that involves me, any little accident that +obliges me to admit it, and I am lost,"—her voice thrilled and pleaded.</p> + +<p>"It is you who are lost," he echoed dully. "I can understand how you +feel. If I can ease your burden or lessen the anxiety you suffer from, +you may depend upon me, Mrs. Wilder. This matter is a dark road where I, +too, walk blind, not knowing the path I follow, but, at least, I can +give you my word that under no circumstances shall I be led to mention +your name. You can be sure of that, Mrs. Wilder. If I can add your +trouble to my own burden I shall not feel its weight, but I would +counsel you to be honest with your husband. Tell him the truth."</p> + +<p>"I will," said Mrs. Wilder, with an acquiescence that came too quickly. +"I assure you that I will, but even when I do, you see what a position +the least publicity places me in?"</p> + +<p>Heath got up and paced the floor with long, restless strides.</p> + +<p>"Publicity. The open avowal of a hidden thing; the knowledge that the +whole world judges and condemns, and does not understand."</p> + +<p>"That is what I feel."</p> + +<p>After all, he was more human than she had expected. Clarice Wilder had +looked upon the Rev. Francis as a hermit, an ascetic, whose +comprehension was limited; and her eyes grew keen as she watched his +gaunt figure.</p> + +<p>"To be dragged down, to be accused, to be cast so low," he continued, in +his sad, heavy voice, "so low that the lowest have cause to deride and +to scorn." He stopped before her. "Is it true that I can save you from +that?"</p> + +<p>"It is true."</p> + +<p>She did not tell him that she had lied to Draycott; it did not appear +necessary; neither did she tell him that Draycott's memory was long and +sure and unerring.</p> + +<p>"Then, if there is one man in all God's universe,"—Heath cast out his +arms as he spoke—"one man above all others whom you could appeal to, +could trust most entirely, that man is myself. Give me your burden, your +distress of mind, and I will take them; I cannot say more—"</p> + +<p>"Of course, it may never be necessary for you to—to avoid telling Mr. +Hartley," broke in Mrs. Wilder quickly. Heath was getting on her nerves, +and she rose to her feet. "I cannot thank you sufficiently, and I fear +that I have upset you, made you feel my own cares too profoundly,"—her +voice grew almost tender. "I have never known such ready sympathy, but +you feel too intensely, Mr. Heath. You make my little trouble your own, +and you have made me very grateful. Are you in any trouble yourself?"</p> + +<p>Heath stopped for a moment, an outline against the light of the window. +She thought he was going to speak, and she waited with an odd feeling of +excitement to hear what was coming, when he suddenly retired back into +his usual manner.</p> + +<p>A light was travelling up the staircase, casting great shadows before +it, and when the boy came to the door of the Padré Sahib's room, he saw +his master saying good-bye to a tall, dark lady who smiled at him and +gave him her hand.</p> + +<p>"Good night, Mr. Heath, I hardly know how to thank you sufficiently."</p> + +<p>She hurried down the staircase, and as she walked out, she met Atkins +coming in on his bicycle. He jumped off as he saw her, and spoke in +surprise.</p> + +<p>"I have just been calling on the Padré," replied Mrs. Wilder pleasantly, +as he commented with ever-ready tactlessness upon her presence in the +Compound. "One of my servants is ill; a member of his community. By the +way, do you think that Mr. Heath is quite well himself?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I do not think so. He overworks. I have a great admiration for +Heath."</p> + +<p>"He must be rather depressing in the rains," she said, with a careless +laugh. "He positively gave me the shivers. I can hardly envy you boxed +up there with him. I believe he sees ghosts, and I think they must be +horrid ghosts or he couldn't look as he does."</p> + +<p>Her car was waiting down the road, and Atkins walked beside her and saw +her get in. Mrs. Wilder was very charming to him; she leaned out and +smiled at him again.</p> + +<p>"Do take care of the Padré," she called as she drove off.</p> + +<p>"There goes a sensible, good-looking woman," thought Atkins, and he +thought highly of Mrs. Wilder for her visit to Heath. He said so to the +Rector of St. Jude's as they dined together, remarking on the fact that +very few women bothered about sick servants, and he was surprised at the +cold lack of enthusiasm with which Heath accepted his remark.</p> + +<p>"That was what she said?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I call it unusual in a country where servants are treated like +machines. I've never known Mrs. Wilder very well, but she is an +interesting woman; don't you think so, Heath?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Heath absently. "I never form definite opinions +about people on a slight knowledge of them."</p> + +<p>Atkins felt snubbed, but he only laughed good-naturedly, and Heath +relapsed into silence.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder was dining out that night, and she looked so superbly +handsome and so defiantly well that everyone remarked upon her; and even +Draycott Wilder, who might have been supposed to be used to her beauty +and her wit, watched her with his slow, following look. Hartley was not +at the dinner-party, but afterwards echoes of its success reached him, +and a description of Mrs. Wilder herself that thrilled his romantic +sense as he listened.</p> + +<p>Hartley was worried about the Padré, and he had warned the policeman to +watch the Compound at night; but all the watching in the world did not +explain the cause of these visits. There was a connection somewhere and +somehow between Heath and the missing Absalom, and Hartley wondered if +he could venture to speak to Mrs. Wilder again about the night of the +29th of July, and implore her to let him know if she had seen Heath with +Absalom.</p> + +<p>It seemed, judging by what Atkins had heard, that Heath was paying for +silence, and Hartley disliked the idea of working up evidence against +the Padré. The more he thought of it the less he liked it, and yet his +duty and his sense of responsibility would not let him rest. Mrs. Wilder +had said that she had seen Heath and Absalom, and had then refused to +say anything more, but Hartley saw in her reserve a suggestion of +further knowledge that could not be ignored or denied.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah was quieter for the moment. He believed that Leh Shin was +being cautiously tracked, and the pointing image had held no further +traces of bloodshed upon his yellow hands. Hartley had grown to loathe +the grinning figure, and to loathe the whole tedious, difficult tragedy +of the lost boy. If it had lain in the native quarter he could have +found interest in the excitement of the chase, but if it ramified into +the Cantonment, Hartley had no mind for it. He was a man first, a +sociable, kindly man, and, later, an officer of the law.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII" />VIII</h2> + +<h3>SHOWS HOW THE CLOAK OF DARKNESS OF ONE NIGHT HIDES MANY EMOTIONS, AND +MRS. WILDER IS FRANKLY INQUISITIVE</h3> + + +<p>Darkness brooded everywhere, but the gloom of night is a darkness that +is impenetrable only to our eyes because we creatures of the hard glare +of daylight cannot see in the strange clearness that brings out the +stars. Only in the houses of men real darkness has its habitation. Under +close roofs, confined within walls, shut into rooms, and lurking in +corners: there, darkness may be found, and because man made it, it has +its own special terror, as have all the creatures of man's hand. Dark, +menacing and noiseless, the shadows flock in as daylight wanes, filing +up like heavy thoughts and sad thoughts, and casting a gloom with their +coming that is not the blackness of earth's restful night.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder paced her room with the steps of a woman whose heart drives +sleep out with scorpion-whips of memory; and she went softly, for sound +travels far at night, and Draycott Wilder, in the next room, was a light +sleeper. She was thinking steadily, and she was trying to force her will +across the distance into the stronghold of Hartley's inner +consciousness.</p> + +<p>Night brought no more rest to Mrs. Draycott Wilder than it did to Craven +Joicey, the Banker, but Joicey did not sit in the dark. Madness lies in +the dark for some minds, and he had turned on the electric light, that +showed his face yellow and weary. On the wall the lizards, awakened by +the sudden glare, resumed their fly-catching, and scuttled with a dry, +scurrying sound over the walls, breaking the silence with a perpetual +"chuck-chuck" as they chased each other. Joicey looked as though he was +dreaming evil dreams, and nothing of his surroundings was real to him. +The room became another room, the tables and chairs grew indistinct, the +face of a small <i>Gaudama</i> on the mantel-piece became a living face that +menaced him, and the "chuck-chuck" of the lizards, the rattle of dice +falling on to a board at some remote distance miles and miles away, and +yet strangely audible to his dull ears. Still he sat there, and flashes +of fancies came and went. Sometimes he stood in an English garden, with +a far-away sunlit glimpse of glittering waters, and a cuckoo crying in a +wood of waving trees, and then he knew that he was a boy, and that he +had forgotten everything that had happened since; and then, without +warning, he was swept out of the garden and stood under Eastern trees, +lost in a wild place, with the haunting face of the image at his +shoulder. The face altered. Sometimes it was Mhtoon Pah's pointing man, +and what he pointed at was never clear. The mistiness bothered him +horribly.</p> + +<p>The <i>Durwan</i> outside played on a wistful little flute, thinking that his +master was asleep; he heard it, and it did not concern him; he was dead +to all outward things just then, and the flute only added to the mystery +of the dream that spun itself in his brain. He wandered in a place so +near actual things and yet so far from them, that the gigantic mistake +of it all, and the consciousness that the inner life could at times +conquer the outer life, made him fall away between the two conditions, +lost and helpless. His head nodded forward, and his lower lip dropped, +and yet his eyes were open, as he sat facing the small squatting Buddha, +whose changeless face changed only for him.</p> + +<p>The three little flute-notes tripped out after each other with no +semblance at a tune, repeating and reiterating the sound in the dark +outside, and Joicey listened as though something of weight depended upon +his hearing steadily. The sound was the one thing that made him know +that he was real, and once it ceased, or he ceased to hear it, he would +be across the gulf and terribly lost; a mind without a body, let loose +in a world where there were no landmarks, no known roads, nothing but +windy space, and he was afraid of that place, and feared terribly to go +there.</p> + +<p>Something shuffled on the stone veranda, another sound, and sound was of +value to Craven Joicey, since it made a vital note in the circling +numbness around him. He could hear whispering voices, and the thump of +the <i>Durwan's</i> stick, as that musically-minded man walked round to the +back of the house, where his lighted window showed that Craven Joicey +did not sleep. Again a voice whispered, and a low sound of discreet +knocking followed.</p> + +<p>Joicey sprang up and called out hoarsely:</p> + +<p>"Who is it?"</p> + +<p>"Sahib, Sahib"—the <i>Durwan's</i> whine was apologetic. "Is the Sahib +awake?"</p> + +<p>"Who wants me?"</p> + +<p>"Leh Shin, the Chinaman."</p> + +<p>Joicey wiped his face with his handkerchief and pulled open the door +with a violent movement.</p> + +<p>"Come in," he said, trying to speak naturally. "What is it, Leh Shin?"</p> + +<p>The Chinaman held a tweed hat in his hand and stole into the room like a +shadow.</p> + +<p>"What now, Leh Shin?"</p> + +<p>Joicey spoke in Yunnanese with the fluency of long habit, and even +though he was angry he kept his voice low as though he feared to be +overheard.</p> + +<p>"The Master of Masters will speak for me," said the Chinaman, standing +before him. "All day the police stand near to my house, and at night +they do not leave it. At one word from the Master, whose speech is +constructed of gold and precious metals, they can be withdrawn, and for +that word I wait—" He made a quick gesture with his tweed cap.</p> + +<p>"You will gain nothing by coming to my house, you swine," said Joicey, +his eyes staring and his veins standing out on his forehead. "I will see +what Mr. Hartley will do, but if you drag in my name or refer him to me +you will do yourself no good, do you hear? No good."</p> + +<p>Leh Shin watched him passively and waited until he had finished.</p> + +<p>"I will swear the oath," he said, blinking his eyes. "I will not speak +the name of the Master, but my doors are locked, my house is a house for +the water-rats, and until the big Lord frees me I am a poor man."</p> + +<p>Joicey sat down heavily on a low chair.</p> + +<p>"It shall be stopped," he said desperately. "I will see that there is no +more of this police supervision; you may take my word for it."</p> + +<p>The Chinaman stood still, moving one foot to the other.</p> + +<p>"In dreams the Master has spoken these promises to me before. Can I be +sure that it is not in a dream that the Master speaks again?"</p> + +<p>"I am awake," said Joicey, bitterly. "Mr. Hartley is looking for the +boy, and if the boy were found, all search would stop,"—he eyed the +Chinaman carefully, but the mask-like face did not change.</p> + +<p>"And the little boy? Perhaps, Ruler and King, the little boy is gone +dead."</p> + +<p>"You ask me <i>that</i>, you devil?"</p> + +<p>"It is for the servant to ask," said Leh Shin, dropping his lids for a +second.</p> + +<p>"Now, get out," said Joicey, between his clenched teeth. "And if you +come here to me again, at night, I'll kill you."</p> + +<p>"The Great One will not do that," said Leh Shin, placidly. "My +assistant waits for me. It would be known as fire is known when the +forest is dry. To-morrow or next day, if the police are gone, my little +house will be open again." He spoke the words with deep emphasis.</p> + +<p>"Get out," said Joicey, turning away his head.</p> + +<p>Leh Shin looked at him with a sudden, oblique glance like the flash of a +knife.</p> + +<p>"Speak no more, Lord of men and elephants; the <i>Durwan</i> is now outside +the door, and he listens."</p> + +<p>"Good-night," said Joicey loudly, and he clicked off the light and went +to bed.</p> + +<p>If the darkness was close in the large houses of the Cantonment, it was +shut into the very essence of itself in the curio shop in Paradise +Street. It hid the carved devils from one another, it obliterated the +stone monsters that no one ever bought, and which had grown to belong to +the shop itself; it dropped its black veil over the green dragons, and +the china ladies, and the silver bowls and the little ivories, hiding +everything out of sight; but it did not hide the figure outside in the +street. The little man, with his pointed headdress and short jacket, had +the clear darkness all to himself. He was just as polite by night as he +was by day, and he bowed and ushered imaginary buyers up the stone steps +with the same perpetual civility, and the same unceasing smile, that +bagged out his varnished cheeks into joviality.</p> + +<p>Dark as it was inside the shop, it must have been darker along the +rat-burrows of stairs, and the loft-like rooms near the roof, but either +up above or down below, the scent of cassia and sandal-wood clung +everywhere inside the curio shop, smelling strongest around the glass +cases and bales of delicate silks.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah's <i>Durwan</i> slept across the doorway, and was therefore the +only object for the attention of the little man, and likewise, +therefore, he did not point to his master, who came in, in the dead, +heavy hours before dawn. He could not have been far; there was hardly +any dust on his red velvet slippers, and he brushed what there was from +them with a careful hand. As he placed his lamp on the floor, the light +threw odd shadows up the walls, turning that of Mhtoon Pah himself into +a grotesque and gigantic mass of darkness, and when he stooped and stood +erect it jumped with a sudden living spring.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah moved about the shop on light feet. He bent here and there to +examine some of the objects closely, with the manner and gesture of a +man who loves beautiful things for their own sakes as well as for the +profit he hoped to gain from their sale. When he had twice made a tour +of inspection, he placed an alabaster Buddha in the centre of a carved +table and sat down before it. The Buddha was dead white, with a red +chain around his neck, and on his head a gold cap with long, gem-set +ears hanging to the shoulders, and Mhtoon Pah sat long in front of the +figure, swaying a little and moving his lips soundlessly. He appeared +like a man who is self-mesmerized by the flame of a candle, and his face +worked with suppressed and violent emotion; at any moment it seemed as +though he might break the silence with some awful, passion-tossed +sound.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, he stopped in his voiceless worship, and, leaning forward +quickly, extinguished the lamp. If he had heard any sound, it was +apparently from below, for he crouched on the ground with his head close +to the teak boarding, and crawled with slow, noiseless care towards the +door. A silk curtain covered the window, hiding the interior of the shop +from the street, and, when he reached the low woodwork above which it +hung, he twitched the curtain back with a sudden movement of his hand +and raised himself slowly until his head was on a level with the glass.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah grew suddenly rigid, and the thick black hair on his head +seemed to bristle. Pressed close against the window, with only a slender +barrier of glass between them, was the face of Leh Shin, the Chinaman. A +ray of white moonlight fell across them both, and its clear radiance +lighted up every feature of the curio dealer's face, changing its brown +into a strange, ghastly pallor. For a moment they stood immovable, +staring into each other's eyes, and the shadows behind Mhtoon Pah in the +shop, and the shadows behind Leh Shin in the street, seemed to listen +and wait with them, seemed to creep closer and enfold them, seemed to +draw up and up on noiseless feet and hang suspended around them. The +moment might have endured for years, so full was it of menace and +passion, and then the man outside moved quickly and the moonlight +flooded in across the face and shoulders of the Burman.</p> + +<p>For a second longer he remained as though fascinated, and then Mhtoon +Pah wrenched at the door and thundered back the heavy bolts. There were +flecks of foam on his lips, and his eyes rolled as he dashed through the +door and out down the steps, rending the air with cries of murder. He +was too late, the Chinaman had gone. When the street flocked out to see +what the disturbance meant, Mhtoon Pah was crouching on his steps in a +kind of fit.</p> + +<p>"I have seen the face of the slayer of Absalom," he shrieked, when the +crowd had carried him in, and recovered him to his senses.</p> + +<p>"Is he a devil?" asked a young Burman, in tones of joyful excitement. "A +devil with iron claws has been seen several nights lately."</p> + +<p>"A Chinese devil," groaned Mhtoon Pah, speaking through his clenched +teeth. "One who shall yet be hanged for his crime."</p> + +<p>"Ah! ah!" said the watchers. "He dreams that it is a man, but it is +known that a devil has walked in Paradise Street, his jaws open. +Certainly he has eaten little Absalom."</p> + +<p>Dawn was breaking, the pale, still hour that is often the hour of death; +and a cool breeze rippled in the date palms and in the flat green leaves +of the rubber plants, and the festoons of succulent green growths that +climbed up the houses of the Cantonments, and dawn found the Rev. +Francis Heath sleeping quietly. He was lying with one arm under his +head, and his worn face in almost child-like repose. Wherever he was, +sleep had carried him to a place of peace and refreshment. When he awoke +he would have forgotten his dream, but for the moment the dream +sufficed, and he rested in the circle of its charm.</p> + +<p>All the time that we are young and careless and happy, we are building +retreats for memory that make harbours of rest in later years, when the +storms come with force. All the old things that did not count, come back +to calm and to restore. The school-room, where the light flickered on a +special corner of the ceiling, telling the children to come out and +play; the tapping of the laurels outside the church windows, and the +musty smell of red rep cushions along the pew where the hours were very +slow in passing; the white clover in the field behind the garden, got at +easily through a hole in the privet hedge. The play of light and shadow +over the hills of home, the dusk at nightfall, and the homely cawing of +rooks. All the delicious things that went with the smell of ripe +strawberries under nets, where thieving birds fluttered until the +gardener let them free again; and the mystery of sparks flying up the +chimney when the winter logs blazed. Every simple joy is stored away in +some lumber corner of the minds of men, and when sleep comes, sometimes +the old things are taken out again.</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis Heath, like the rest of the world, had his own secret +doorway that led back to wonderland, and it may have been that he was +far away from Mangadone in this child-world which is so hard to find +again, as he slept, and the outside world grew from grey to green, and +from green to misty gold. The sunlight flamed on the spire of the +Pagoda, it danced up the brown river and threw long shadows before its +coming, those translucent shadows that no artist has ever yet been able +to paint. It turned the mohur trees blood-red, and the grass to shining +emerald green, and Mangadone looked as though it had just come fresh +from the hands of its Creator.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah, recovered from his fit, was in his shop early, and he +himself went out to cleanse the effigy outside with a white duster, and +to set his wares in order. It was a good day for sales, as a liner had +come in and brought with it many rich Americans, and Mhtoon Pah was glad +to sell to such as they. His stock-in-trade was beautiful and +attractive, and in the centre of the table, where the unset stones +glittered and shone on white velvet, there stood a bowl, a gold lacquer +bowl of perfect symmetry and very great beauty. He poised it on his +hands once or twice and examined it carefully. As it was already sold it +was not to remain in the curio shop, but Mhtoon Pah was a careful man, +and he desired that Mrs. Wilder should fetch it herself; besides, he +liked her car to stand outside his shop, and he liked her to come in and +look at his goods. Very few people who came in to look, went away +without having bought several things they did not in the least want. +Mhtoon Pah knew exactly how to lure by influence, and he knew that Mrs. +Wilder could no more turn away from a grey-and-pink shot silk than Eve +could refuse the forbidden fruit.</p> + +<p>He spread out a sea-blue Mandarin's coat, embroidered with peaches, and +small, crafty touches of black here and there, and looked at it with the +loving eye of a connoisseur. His whole shop was a fountain of colour, +and he was not unworthy of it in his silk petticoat. A ray of sunlight +fell in through the door and touched a few threads of gold in the coat +as Mhtoon Pah hung it up to good advantage, and turned to see a customer +come in. It was the Rev. Francis Heath; and Mhtoon Pah's face fell. +"Reverends" were not good buyers, specially when they had not any wives, +and Mr. Heath took no notice of the attractive display as he stood, +black and forbidding, in the centre of the shop.</p> + +<p>"I have come here, Mhtoon Pah, to ask for news of Absalom," he said, +meeting his eyes forcefully. "Where is he?"</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah bowed low, as befitted the dignity of his guest, who was, +after all, a <i>Hypongyi</i>, even though he wore no yellow robes.</p> + +<p>"It is unknown," he said, in a heavy voice. "The Reverend himself might +know, since the Reverend saw my little Absalom that night."</p> + +<p>"You <i>must</i> have suspicions?"</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah's face worked violently.</p> + +<p>"Leh Shin," he whispered. "Look there for what is left."</p> + +<p>Heath retreated before his fury.</p> + +<p>"You yourself sent the boy there."</p> + +<p>"<i>Wah! Wah!</i> I sent him and he did not return."</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about?" said the fresh, gay voice of Mrs. Wilder. +"Where is my lacquer bowl, Mhtoon Pah?" She came in, bright as the +morning outside, and smiled at the Rev. Francis Heath. "So you have got +it for me."</p> + +<p>"I did not get it, Lady Sahib," said Mhtoon Pah. "It came here, how I +know not. I found it outside my shop in the care of the wooden image +when I went to dust his limbs this morning."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder laughed.</p> + +<p>"In that case I shall not have to pay for it. But what do you mean, +Mhtoon Pah?"</p> + +<p>"It is blood money," said Mhtoon Pah, with a wild gasp. "Only one man +knew of the bowl, only one man could have put it there. I shall tell +Hartley Sahib; the <i>Thakin</i> will strike surely and swiftly."</p> + +<p>"He will do nothing of the kind," said Mrs. Wilder, with a quick look at +Heath. "Give me my bowl, Mhtoon Pah; you are letting yourself dream +foolish things. Absalom"—she tapped the polished floor with her +well-shaped foot—"will come back and explain everything himself, and +then—whoever is responsible—will bear the penalty."</p> + +<p>"They have tied his head to his elbows, and set snakes to sting him," +said Mhtoon Pah. "This have they done, and worse things, Lady Sahib."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder shivered.</p> + +<p>"Give me my bowl, you horrible old man. Absalom is blacking boots in a +New York hotel, weeks ago.—Ah! what a coat! Are you buying anything, +Mr. Heath?"</p> + +<p>"I am going to the school," he answered slowly.</p> + +<p>"Then let me drive you there. Send me up the Mandarin's coat, Mhtoon +Pah, and I will haggle another day."</p> + +<p>Heath followed her reluctantly down the steps. He wished she had not +made a point of taking him in her motor, but he felt instinctively sorry +for her, which fact, had she known it, would have surprised and +affronted her.</p> + +<p>"Will you come and dine with us one night?" she asked, looking at him +with her fine eyes; "it would give us great pleasure, and I do not think +you have met my husband."</p> + +<p>"I rarely do dine out," said Heath, staring before him as the car backed +round in the limited space of Paradise Street.</p> + +<p>"Then make this an exception. I won't ask you to a function, just a +quiet little family party."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind."</p> + +<p>He was still abstracted, and hardly seemed to hear her, and, when he got +out and shut the door, she leaned from the window, smiling like weary +royalty.</p> + +<p>"I will write and arrange an evening later on. It is a promise, Mr. +Heath."</p> + +<p>"I will come," he replied, in the same preoccupied voice, as he raised +his battered <i>topi</i>.</p> + +<p>"What has he been doing?" she asked herself, in surprise, and again and +again she put the same question to herself, not only that morning, but +often, later on, and with ever-increasing curiosity.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX" />IX</h2> + +<h3>MRS. WILDER IS PRESENTED IN A MELTING MOOD, AND DRAYCOTT WILDER IS +FORCED TO RECALL THE LINES COMMENCING "A FOOL THERE WAS"</h3> + + +<p>It was a bright morning with a high wind blowing and a breath of +freshness in the air that has a charm to inspire a better outlook upon +life. Everywhere it made itself felt in Mangadone, and like Pippa in the +poem, the wind passed along, leaving everything and everybody a little +better for its coming. It passed through the open veranda of the huge +hospital, and touched the fever patients with its cool breath; it +hurried through the Chinese quarter, blew along Paradise Street, dusting +the gesticulating man, and went on up the river, pretending to make the +brown water change its muddy mind and run backwards instead of forwards. +It paid a little freakish attention to Mrs. Wilder's dark hair, and it +cooled the back of Hartley's neck, as they rode along together, by the +way of a lake.</p> + +<p>They had met quite accidentally, and Hartley, who had been vaguely +wishing for an opportunity to speak to Mrs. Wilder, seized upon it and +offered himself as her escort. She agreed with complimentary readiness, +and they turned along a wooded road, where the shadows were deep and +where Hartley felt the gripping hands of romance loosen his +heart-strings.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder listened to him, or appeared to do so, which is much the +same in effect, and Hartley was not critical. She was a good listener, +as women who have something else to think about often are; and so they +rode along the twisting path, and the wind sang in the plumes of the +bamboo trees, and Hartley believed that it sang a romantic lyric of +platonic admiration, exquisitely hinted at by a tactful man, and +properly appreciated by a very beautiful woman.</p> + +<p>"By the way," she said carelessly, "have you found that wretched little +Absalom yet? What a bother he has been since he took it into his head to +go off to America, or wherever it is he went to."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you mentioned him," said Hartley, his face <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'growng'">growing</ins> suddenly serious. "I have a question or two that +I want very much to ask you."</p> + +<p>"A question or two? That sounds so very legal. Really, Mr. Hartley, I +believe you credit me with having Absalom's body hanging up in one of my +<i>almirahs</i>. Honestly, don't you really believe that I had a hand in +putting him out of the way?"</p> + +<p>She laughed her hard little laugh, and shot a look at him over her +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"You do know something, some little thing it may be, but something that +might help me."</p> + +<p>"About Absalom, or about someone else?"</p> + +<p>"About whoever you saw him with."</p> + +<p>Hartley pushed his pony alongside of hers, but her face revealed +nothing, and was quite expressionless.</p> + +<p>"Whoever I saw him with?" she echoed reflectively. "Ah, but it is so +long ago, Mr. Hartley, I can't even remember now whether I was out or +not that evening."</p> + +<p>"You are only playing with me," said Hartley a little irritably. "The +policeman on duty at the cross-roads below Paradise Street saw you."</p> + +<p>Her face became suddenly so drawn and startled that Hartley regretted +his words almost as he spoke them.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute, Mr. Hartley," she said, in a strained, hard voice. "You +have to explain to me why you have asked your men questions connected +with me."</p> + +<p>"I did not ask questions; I was told."</p> + +<p>She pulled up her pony, and, turning her head away from him, looked out +silently over the dip of ground below them. Hartley did not break her +silence. He saw that he had come close to some deep emotion, and he +watched her curiously, but Mrs. Wilder, even if she was conscious of his +look, appeared quite indifferent to it. He could form no idea along what +road her silent concentration led her; but he knew that she pursued an +idea that was compelling and strong. He knew enough of her to know that +even her silence was not the silence that arises out of lack of subject +for talk, but that it meant something as definite and clear as though +she spoke direct words to him.</p> + +<p>The Head of the Police would have given much at that moment to have +been able to penetrate her thoughts, but he only stared at her with his +blue eyes a little wider open than usual, and waited for her to speak. +She looked before her steadily, but not with the eyes of a woman who +dreams; Mrs. Wilder was thinking definitely, and while Hartley waited, +her mind travelled at speed across years and came to a halt at the +moment where she now found herself, and from that moment she looked out +forcefully into the future.</p> + +<p>Usually, in the tragic instants of life there is very little time for +thought before the need for action forces the will, with relentless +hands. Clarice Wilder knew as well as she knew anything that her +position was one of some peril, and that much more than she could weigh +or measure at that moment lay beyond the next spoken word. She was +telling herself to be careful, steadying her nerve and reining in a +desire to pour out a flood of circumstantial evidence, calculated to +convince the Head of the Police.</p> + +<p>If there is one thing more than another that the man or the woman driven +against the ropes should avoid, it is prolixity; the snare that catches +craft in its own net. Clarice Wilder desired to be overpowering, +redundant and extreme in the wordy proof of her innocence of purpose +that evening of July the 29th, but she held back and waited steadfastly +until she was quite sure of herself again, and then she turned her head +and glanced at Hartley with a smile.</p> + +<p>"How silent you are," she said gently.</p> + +<p>Hartley flushed and looked self-conscious.</p> + +<p>"To be quite candid, that was what I was thinking of you," he replied +awkwardly.</p> + +<p>"What were we saying?" went on Mrs. Wilder. "Oh, of course, I remember. +You thought I could tell you something about poor Mr. Heath, didn't you? +I only wish I could, but it was so long ago. I do remember the evening. +It was very hot and I rode along by the river to get some fresh air," +her eyes grew hazy. "I can remember thinking that Mangadone looked as if +it was a great ball of amber, with the sun shining through it, but as +for being able to tell you what Mr. Heath was doing, or who he was with, +it is impossible. You should have pinned me down to it the day you +called on me, when this troublesome little boy first went off." She +gathered up the reins, and Hartley mounted reluctantly. "I am so sorry. +I would love to be able to help you, but I cannot remember."</p> + +<p>If Hartley had been asked on oath how it was that Mrs. Wilder had led +him clean away from the subject under discussion, to something +infinitely more satisfying and interesting, he could not have sworn to +it. They loitered by the road and came slowly back to the bungalow, +where they parted at the gate, and he watched her go in, hoping she +might turn her head, but she did not, and Hartley took his way towards +his own house and thought very little of Absalom or the Rev. Francis +Heath. One thing he did think of, and that was that Mrs. Wilder had +looked at him earnestly, and said that she wished he was not "mixed up" +in anything likely to bring uneasiness to the mind of the Rector of St. +Jude's Church. "Mixed up" was a curious way of expressing his connection +with the case, but Hartley felt that he knew what she meant. He pulled +at his short moustache and wished with all his heart that he really did +know; but all the wishes in the world could not help him out of a +professional dilemma.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder had not looked round, though she very well knew that Hartley +was waiting and hoping that she would, and once she had turned the first +bend she touched the pony with her heel and cantered up the hill, +throwing the reins to the <i>syce</i> who came in answer to her impatient +call.</p> + +<p>"Idiot," she said, as she shut the door of her room and flung her <i>topi</i> +on the bed, and she repeated the word several times with increasing +animosity and vigour. She hated Hartley at that moment, and felt under +no further obligation to hide her real feelings; and then Mrs. Wilder +sat down and thought hard.</p> + +<p>The mental power of exaggerating danger is limitless, and she could not +deny that her fear was playing tricks with her nerves. She knew that she +had done creditably under the strain of acute nervous tension, but she +felt also that much more of the same thing would be unendurable.</p> + +<p>Draycott came in to luncheon, and she was there to receive him, but even +to his careless eye, Clarice was oddly abstracted, and he glanced at her +curiously, wondering what it was that occupied her mind and made her +frown as she thought.</p> + +<p>She could not get away from the grip of her morning interview. Try as +she would, she could not shake it off. It caught her back in the middle +of her talk, made her answer at random, and held her with a terrible +power. She considered that there were a thousand other things she might +have said or done, a hundred ways by which she might have appealed to +Hartley, and yet her common sense told her that the less she said on the +subject the better it would be, if, in the end, the Rev. Francis Heath +was led into the awful pitfalls of cross-examination. Anyone may forget +and recall facts later, but to state facts that may be used as evidence +is to stand handcuffed before inexorable justice, and Mrs. Wilder had +left her hands free.</p> + +<p>"Is anything the matter?" Draycott jerked out the question as he got up +to leave the room. "You seem rather silent."</p> + +<p>Clarice laughed, and her laugh was slightly forced.</p> + +<p>"I went for a ride this morning, and met Mr. Hartley. He is the most +exhausting man I ever met."</p> + +<p>"I hope you told him so," said Wilder shortly. "He's about here +frequently enough, even though he <i>does</i> bore you."</p> + +<p>Something in his voice made her eyes focus him very clearly and +distinctly.</p> + +<p>"I have a very good mind to tell him," she said easily, "but he is +blessed with a skin that would turn the edge of any ordinary hatchet; he +would think I was merely being 'funny.'"</p> + +<p>"It's an odd fact," said Draycott with a sneer in his eyes, "that +however much a woman complains of a man's stupidity, she will let him +hang about her, and make a grievance of it, until she sees fit to drop +him. When that moment arrives she can make him let go, and lower away +all right. Just now Hartley is hanging on quite perceptibly, and if it +entertains you to slang him behind his back, I suppose you will slang +him, but he won't drop off before you've done with him, Clarice, if I +know anything of your methods." Her face flushed and she began to look +angry. "Mind you, I don't object to Hartley. As you say, he's a fool, a +silly, trusting ass, the sort of man who is child's-play to a girl of +sixteen. If you must have a string of loafers to prove that your +attractions outwear <i>anno domini</i>, I must accept Hartley, and other +Hartleys, so long as you continue to play the same game. <i>Hartleys</i>, I +said, Clarice."</p> + +<p>There was no doubt about the emphasis he laid upon the name.</p> + +<p>"You flatter Mr. Hartley considerably," she said, but her voice was +conciliatory and her laugh nervous.</p> + +<p>"He represents a type; a type that some married men may be thankful +continues to exist. God!" he broke out violently, "if he could hear you +talk of him, it would be a lesson to the fool, but he won't hear you. No +man ever does hear these things until the knowledge comes too late to be +of any use to him. You have got to have your strings"—he shrugged his +shoulders—"because your life isn't here, in this house; it is at the +Club, and at dinners and races and so on, and to be left to your +husband is the beginning of the end. Don't deny it, Clarice, it's no +earthly use. Women like you have your own ideas of life, I suppose, and +I ought to be thankful they're no worse."</p> + +<p>He stood by the door all the time he spoke, and his colourless face and +pale eyes never altered.</p> + +<p>"You're talking absolute nonsense," said Mrs. Wilder, preserving an +amiable tone. "We <i>have</i> to entertain, Draycott, and you can't round on +me for what I have done for years. It has helped you on, and you know +it."</p> + +<p>"I wasn't talking of that," he said drearily. "I was talking of you. +You're getting old, for a woman, Clarice, and when you're worried, as +you are to-day, you show it; though how an imbecile like Hartley got at +you to the extent of making you worried, I don't pretend to guess."</p> + +<p>"Old," she said angrily. "You aren't troubling to be particularly +polite."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm damnably truthful; just because it makes me wonder at you all +the more. You can go on smiling at any number of idiots, because you +must have the applause, I suppose. You don't even believe in it—<i>now</i>."</p> + +<p>His allusion was definite, and Mrs. Wilder felt about in her mind for +some way to change the conversation. Quagmires are bad ground for +walking, and she was in a hurry to reach <i>terra firma</i> again. She came +round the table and slipped her arm through his.</p> + +<p>"After all these years. Draycott—be a little generous."</p> + +<p>If she had fought him, some deep, hidden anger in his cold heart would +have flared up, but her gesture softened him and he patted her hand.</p> + +<p>"I know," he said slowly. "Only I can't quite forget. I simply can't, +Clarice."</p> + +<p>She smiled at him and touched his face with a light hand.</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell you why? Because even if I am old—and thirty-six isn't so +very dreadful—you are still in love with me."</p> + +<p>She went with him to the door and smiled as he drove away, smiled and +waved as he reappeared round a distant bend, and watched him return her +signal, and then she went back into the large drawing-room and her face +grew grey and pinched, and she sat with her chin propped on her hands, +thinking.</p> + +<p>She had proved that there are more fools in the world than those who go +about disguised as Heads of Police, and had added another specimen to +the general list, but she found no mirth in the idea as she considered +it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="X" id="X" />X</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH CRAVEN JOICEY IS OVERCOME BY A SUDDEN INDISPOSITION, AND +HARTLEY, WITHOUT LOOKING FOR HIM, FINDS THE MAN HE WANTED</h3> + + +<p>It seemed to Hartley that Fate had dealt very hardly with him. He was +interested in the case of the boy Absalom, and he felt that the +possibility of clearing it up was well within reach, and then he found +himself face to face with an unpleasant and painful duty.</p> + +<p>All his gregarious sociable nature cried out against any act that would +cause a scandal in Mangadone, the magnitude of which he could hardly +gauge but only guess at; and yet, wherever he went, the thought haunted +him. His feelings gave him no rest, and he remained inactive and +listless for several days after his ride with Mrs. Wilder. If she had +told him that she implored him personally to drop the case he could not +have felt more certain that she desired him to do so. She worked +indirectly upon his feelings, a much surer way with some natures than a +direct appeal, and the thought brought something akin to misery into the +mind and heart of the police officer.</p> + +<p>Absalom had gone, leaving no visible footprint to indicate whither he +had vanished, but the inexorable detail of circumstance after +circumstance led on to a very definite conclusion. The wooden figure +outside the curio dealer's shop pointed up his master's steps, and did +no one any wrong, but the awful fixed finger of changeless fact +indicated the creeper-covered bungalow of the Rev. Francis Heath.</p> + +<p>Hartley sat in his room, his elbows on the writing-table, and stared out +before him. A sluicing shower had come up suddenly, obscuring all the +brightness of the day, and the eaves of the veranda dripped mournfully +with a sound like the patter of a thousand tiny feet; the patter sounded +like the falling of tears, and he wondered if Heath, too, listened to +the light persistent noise, and read into it the footsteps of departing +hopes and lost ideals, or merely all the terrible monotonous detail that +preceded an act that was a crime.</p> + +<p>Hartley had dealt considerably with criminal cases, but never with +anything the least like the case of the boy Absalom, and the +speculations that came across his mind were new to him. He realized that +a criminal of the class of the Rev. Francis Heath is a criminal who is +driven slowly, inch by inch, into action, and each inch given only at +the cost of blood and tears. It was little short of ghastly to consider +what Heath must have gone through and suffered, and what he still must +suffer, and must continue to suffer as he went along the dark loneliness +of the awful road into which he had turned.</p> + +<p>People who have pity and to spare for the murdered body, or for the dupe +who has suffered plunder, think very little of the agony of mind and +the horror of the man who has held a good position, secure and honoured, +and who falls into the bottomless abyss of crime and detection. Hartley +had never considered it before. He was on the side of law and order, and +he was incapable of even dimly visualizing any condition of affairs that +could force him into illegal action, and yet he felt in the darkness +after some comprehension of the mind of the Rector of St. Jude's Parish +Church.</p> + +<p>The rain passed over, and the veranda was crossed with strips of yellow +sunlight, the pale washed sunlight of a wet evening, and still the drip +from the eaves fell intermittently with its melancholy noise, so softly +now, as hardly to be heard, and Hartley got up, and, putting on his hat, +walked across the scrunching wet gravel, and out on to the road, making +his way towards the Club.</p> + +<p>Far away, gleams of light lay soft over the trees of the park, the green +sad light that is only seen in damp atmospheres. There was no gladness +in the day, only a sense of deficiency and sorrow, even in its lingering +beauty; and the lake that reflected the trees and the sky was deadly +still, with a brooding, waiting stillness. Hartley stopped as he went +towards the further gates of the park, and watched the glassy +reflections with troubled eyes. No breeze touched the woods into +movement, and the long, yellow bars of evening light were full of dim +stillness. The very lifelessness of it affected Hartley strangely. +Except where, here and there, a flash of the low sunset caught the +water, the whole prospect was motionless, and he stood like a man +spellbound by the mystery of its silence.</p> + +<p>Hartley had chosen the less frequented road through the Park, and there +was no one in sight when he had stopped to look at the pale sheet of +water with its mirrored reproduction of tree and sky. It held him +strangely, and he felt a curious tension of his nerves, as though +something was going to happen. The thought came, as such thoughts do +come, out of nowhere in particular, and yet Hartley waited with a sense +of discomfort.</p> + +<p>When he turned away angry at his own momentary folly, he stooped and +picked up a stone and threw it into the motionless beauty of the water, +breaking it into a quick splash, marring the clearness, and confusing +the straight, low band of gold cloud which broke under the widening +circles. As he stooped, a man had come into sight, walking with a slow, +heavy step, his eyes on the ground and his head bent. He came on with +dragging feet and a dull, mechanical walk, the walk of a man who is +tired in body and soul. He did not look at the lake, nor did he even see +Hartley, who turned towards him at once with sudden relief.</p> + +<p>When Hartley hailed him cheerfully, Joicey stopped dead and looked up, +staring at him as though he were an apparition. He took off his hat and +wiped his forehead.</p> + +<p>"Where did you spring from, Hartley?" he asked. "I did not see anyone +just now." There was more irritation than warmth in his greeting of the +police officer.</p> + +<p>"I was moonstruck by the edge of that confounded lake. It was so still +that it got on my nerves."</p> + +<p>"Nerves," said Joicey abruptly. "There's too much talk of nerves +altogether in these days."</p> + +<p>Joicey, like all large men with loud voices, was able to give an +impression of solidity that is very refreshing and reviving at times, +but, otherwise, Joicey was not looking entirely himself. He passed his +handkerchief over his face again and laughed dully.</p> + +<p>"You're going to the Club, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"I was going there, but now I'll join you and have a walk, if I may. +It's early for the Club yet."</p> + +<p>He turned and walked on beside the Banker, who appeared, if anything, +less in the humour for conversation than was usual with him. They left +the lake behind them, now a pallid gleam flecked with wavering light in +a circle of deep shadows that reached out from the margin.</p> + +<p>"Any news?" asked Hartley without enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"Not that I have heard."</p> + +<p>Silence fell again, and they walked out on to the road. Pools of +afternoon rain still lay here and there in the depressions, but Joicey +took no heed of them, and splashed on, staining his white trousers with +liquid mud.</p> + +<p>"By the way," he said, clearing his throat as though his words stuck +there, "have you heard anything more in connection with the +disappearance of that boy you were talking of the other evening?"</p> + +<p>Hartley did not reply for a moment, and just as he was about to speak, +Mrs. Wilder's car passed, and Mrs. Wilder leaned forward to smile at the +Head of the Police; a small buggy followed with some more friends of +Hartley's, and then another car, and the road was clear again.</p> + +<p>"I believe I am on the right track, but I don't like it, Joicey. I'm +damned if I do."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"It comes too close to home,"—Hartley spoke with a jerk. "A hateful +job—I thought I'd tell you—" He spoke in broken sentences, and his +words affected the Banker very perceptibly.</p> + +<p>"Can't you drop it?"</p> + +<p>Joicey came to a standstill, and his voice was lowered almost to a +whisper.</p> + +<p>"I wish to Heaven I could, but it's a question of duty,"—he could +hardly see Joicey's face in the gathering gloom. "I suppose you guess +what I'm driving at, Joicey, though how you guess, I don't know."</p> + +<p>"I think I'll say good night here, Hartley,"—the Banker's voice was +unnatural and wavering. "I can't discuss it with you. It's got to be +proved," he spoke more heatedly. "What have you got? Only the word of a +stinking native. I tell you it's monstrous." He stopped and clutched +Hartley's arm, and seemed as though he was staggering.</p> + +<p>"What has come over you, Joicey; are you ill?"</p> + +<p>"I'll sit down here for a moment,"—Joicey walked towards a low wall. +"Sometimes I get these attacks. I'm better after they are over. Better, +much better. Leave me here to go back by myself, Hartley. You need have +no fear, I'm over it now; I'll rest for a little and then go my way +quickly. Believe me, I'd rather be alone."</p> + +<p>Very reluctantly, Hartley quitted him. He felt that Joicey was ill, and +might even be beginning the horrible phase of "breaking up," which comes +on with such fatal speed in a tropical climate. He went back after he +had gone a mile along the road, but Joicey was no longer there. It was +too late to think of going to the Club, for the road that Joicey and +Hartley had followed led away from the residential quarter of Mangadone, +and he disliked the idea of going back to his own bungalow and waiting +through the dismal hour that lies across the evening between the time to +come in and the time to dress for dinner.</p> + +<p>Had there been a friendly house near, Hartley would have gone in on the +chance of finding someone at home, but as there was not, he made the +best of existing circumstances and took his way along the road towards +his own bungalow. He could not deny that his walk with Joicey had only +served to depress his spirits, and he was sorry to think that his friend +was so obviously in bad health. The world seemed an uncomfortable place, +full of gloomy surprises, and Hartley wished that he had a wife to go +back to. Not a superb being like Mrs. Wilder, who was encircled by the +halo of High Romance, but just an ordinary wife, with a friendly smile +and a way of talking about everyday things while she darned socks. +Somewhere in his domestic heart Hartley considered sock-mending a +beautiful and symbolic act, and yet he could not picture Mrs. Wilder +occupied in such a fashion.</p> + +<p>A man with a wife to go back to is never at the same loose end as a man +who has no need ever to be punctual for a solitary meal, and Hartley +walked quickly because he wanted to get clear of his depression, rather +than for any reason that compelled him to be up to time.</p> + +<p>The gathering darkness drew out the flare over the city, and, here and +there, lamps dotted the road, until, turning up a short cut, he was into +the region of trams once more. The lighted cars, filled with gay Burmese +and soldiers from the British Regiment, and European-clad, dark-skinned +creatures of mixed races, looked cheerful and encouraged to better +thoughts. Hartley crossed the busy thoroughfare below the Pagoda steps +and went on quickly, for he recognized the outline of Mhtoon Pah on his +way to burn amber candles before his newly-erected shrine. He was in no +mood to talk to the curio dealer just then, and he avoided him carefully +and plunged down a tree-bowered road that led to the bridge, and from +the bridge to the hill-rise where his own gate stood open.</p> + +<p>It pleased him to see that lamps were lighted in the house, and he felt +conscious that he was hungry, and would be glad of dinner; he made up +his mind to do himself well and rout the tormenting thoughts that +pursued him, and to-morrow he would see Francis Heath and have the whole +thing put on paper once and for all. He even whistled as he came along +the short drive and under the portico, where a night-scented flower +smelt strong and sweet. His boy met him with the information that there +was a Sahib within waiting. A Sahib who had evidently come to stay, for +a strange-looking servant in the veranda rose and salaamed, and sat down +again by his master's kit with the patience of a man who looks out upon +eternity.</p> + +<p>Hartley hardly glanced at the servant. Visitors, tumbling from anywhere, +were not altogether unusual occurrences. Men on the way back from a +shoot in the jungles of Upper Burma, men who were old school friends and +were doing a leisurely tour to Japan and America, men of his own +profession who had leave to dispose of; all or any of these might arrive +with a servant and a portmanteau. Whoever it was, Hartley was +predisposed to give him a welcome. He had come just when he was wanted, +and he hurried in, a light of pleasure in his blue eyes.</p> + +<p>Near the lamp, a book of verses open on his knee, sat Hartley's +unexpected guest. He was slim, dark, and vital, but where his arresting +note of vitality lay would have been hard to explain. No one can tell +exactly what it is that marks one man as a courageous man, and another +as a coward, and yet, without need of any test, these things may be +known and judged beforehand. The man whose eyes followed the lines:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"They say the Lion and the Lizard keep<br /></span> +<span>The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep"—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>was as distinctive as he well could be, and yet his face was not +expressive. His dark, narrow eyes were dull, and his finely-cut features +small and perfect, rather than bold and strong; his long hands were the +hands of a woman more than those of a man, and his figure was slight to +boyishness.</p> + +<p>When Hartley let his full joy express itself in husky, cheery words of +surprise, his visitor said very little, but what he did say was spoken +in a pleasant, low voice.</p> + +<p>"Coryndon," said Hartley again. "Of all men on earth I wanted to see you +most. You've done what you always do, come in the 'nick.'"</p> + +<p>Coryndon smiled, a languid, half-amused gleam of mirth.</p> + +<p>"I am only passing through, my job is finished."</p> + +<p>"But you'll stay for a bit?"</p> + +<p>"You said just now that I was here in the 'nick'; if the nick is +interesting, I'll see."</p> + +<p>"I'll go and arrange about your rooms," said Hartley, and he appeared +twice his normal size beside his guest, as a St. Bernard might look +standing by a greyhound. "We will talk afterwards."</p> + +<p>Coryndon watched him go out without change of expression, and, sliding +back into his chair, took up his book again.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"They say the Lion and the Lizard keep<br /></span> +<span>The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Coryndon leaned back and half closed his eyes; the words seemed potent, +as with a spell, and he called up a vision of the forsaken Palace where +wild things lived and where revels were long forgotten—solitude and +ruin that no one ever crossed to explore or to see—with the eyes of a +man who can rebuild a mighty past. Solitude in the halls and marble +stairways, ruin of time in the fretted screens, and broken cisterns +holding nothing but dry earth. Nothing there now but the lion and the +lizard, not even the ghost of a light footfall, or the tinkle of glass +bangles on a rounded arm.</p> + +<p>Coryndon had almost forgotten Hartley when he came back, flushed and +pleased, and full of a host's anxiety about his guest's welfare.</p> + +<p>"I hope you haven't been bored?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Coryndon, touching the book, "I've been amusing myself in my +own way," and he followed Hartley out of the room.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XI" id="XI" />XI</h2> + +<h3>SHOWS HOW THE "WHISPER FROM THE DAWN OF LIFE" ENABLES CORYNDON TO TAKE +THE DRIFTING THREADS BETWEEN HIS FINGERS</h3> + + +<p>Very probably Hartley believed that he knew "all about" Coryndon; he +knew at least, that the Government of India looked upon him as the best +man they had to unravel the most intricate case that murder or forgery, +coining or fraud of any sort, could tangle into mysterious knots. +Coryndon had intuition and patience, and once he undertook a case he +followed it through to the ultimate conclusion; and so it was that +Coryndon stood alone, a department in himself, possibly aided by the +police and the shadower, but capable of discovering anything, once he +bent his mind to the business of elucidation.</p> + +<p>Beyond the fact that he had been born somewhere in a jungle clearing in +Upper Burma, and that at ten years old he had gone to India to a school +in the Hills, then had vanished for years to reappear in the service of +the Government, his story was not known to anyone except himself. No one +doubted that he had "a touch of the country" in his blood. It displayed +itself in unmistakable physical traits, and his knowledge of its many +tongues and languages was the knowledge that first made him realize +that his future career lay in India.</p> + +<p>Colonel Coryndon, his father, died just as the boy was leaving school, +and left him a little money; just enough to keep him from the iron yoke +of clerkship, and to allow of his waiting for what he wanted. Behind his +dark eyes lived a brain that could concentrate with the grip of a vise +upon any subject that interested him, and he puzzled his masters at his +school. Coryndon was a curious mixture of imagination and strong common +sense; few realize that it is only the imaginative mind that can see +behind the curtain that divides life from life, and discern motives.</p> + +<p>He saw everything with an almost terrible clearness. Every detail of a +room, every line in a face, every shop in a street he walked through, +every man he spoke with, was registered in his indelible book of facts. +This, in itself, is not much. Men can learn the habit of observation as +they can train their minds to remember dates or historical facts, but, +in the case of Coryndon, this art was inherent and his by birth. He +started with it, and his later training of practising his odd capacity +for recalling the smallest detail of every day that passed only +intensified his power in this direction. With this qualification alone +he could have been immensely useful as a secret agent, but in addition +to this he had also his other gift, his intuition and power of altering +his own point of view for that of another man, and seeing his subject +through the eyes of everyone concerned in a question.</p> + +<p>His nervous vitality was great, and there were plenty of well-educated +native subordinates who believed him gifted with occult forces, since +his ways of getting at his astonishing conclusions were never explained +to any living soul, because Coryndon could not have explained them to +himself.</p> + +<p>His identity was well known at Headquarters, but beyond that limit it +was carefully hidden from the lower branches of the executive, as too +wide and too public recognition would have narrowed his sphere of +action. As Wesley declared the whole world to be his parish, so the +whole of Asia was Coryndon's sphere of action, and only at Headquarters +was it ever known where he actually might be found, or what employment +occupied his brain. He came like a rain-cloud blown up soundlessly on +the east wind, and vanished like morning mists, and no one knew what he +had learnt during his silent passing.</p> + +<p>Men with voices like brass trumpets praised and encouraged him, and men +who knew the dark byways of criminal investigation were hardly jealous +of him. Coryndon was a freak, an exception, a man who stood beyond +competition, and was as sure as he was mysterious. He was "explained" in +a dozen ways. His face, to begin with, made disguise easy, and the touch +of the country did much for him in this respect. He had played behind +his father's up-country bungalow with little Burmese boys and talked in +their speech before he knew any English; the Bazaar was an open book to +him, and the mind of the native, so some men said with a shade of +contempt, not too far from his own to make understanding impossible.</p> + +<p>Besides all this, there were those other years, after he left the school +under the high snow ranges, when Coryndon had vanished entirely, and of +these years he never spoke. And yet, with all this, Coryndon was +unmistakably a "Sahib," a man of unusual culture and brilliant ability. +He had complete powers of self-control, and his one passion was his love +of music, and though he never played for anyone else, men who had come +upon him unawares had heard him playing to himself in a way that was as +surprising as everything else about Coryndon surprised and astonished.</p> + +<p>He had dreamed as a boy, and he still dreamed as a man. The subtle +beauty of a line of verse led him into visionary habitations as fair as +any ever disclosed to poet or artist. He could lose himself utterly in +the lights and shadows of a passing day, while he watched for a doomed +man at the entrance of a temple, or brooded over painted sores and cried +to the rich for alms by a dusty roadside; a very different Coryndon to +the Coryndon who looked at Hartley across the white cloth of the round +dinner-table.</p> + +<p>The truth about Coryndon was that he read the souls of men. Mhtoon Pah +had boasted to Hartley that he read the walk of the world he looked at, +but Coryndon went much further; and as Hartley talked about outward +things, whilst the Boy and the <i>Khitmutghar</i> flitted in and out behind +them, carrying plates and dishes, his guest was considering him with a +quiet and almost moonstruck gravity of mind. He knew just how far +Hartley could go, and he knew exactly what blocked him. Hartley was tied +into the close meshes of circumstance; he argued from without and worked +inward, and Coryndon had discovered the flaw in this process before he +left his school.</p> + +<p>When they were alone at last, Hartley pushed his chair closer to +Coryndon and leaned forward.</p> + +<p>"One moment." Coryndon's voice was lowered slightly, and he strolled to +the door.</p> + +<p>"Boy," he called, and with amazing alacrity Hartley's servant appeared.</p> + +<p>"Tell my servant," he said, speaking in English, "that I want the cigar +tin."</p> + +<p>"Do you believe he was listening?"</p> + +<p>"I am sure of it."</p> + +<p>Hartley flushed angrily, and he was about to speak when Coryndon's man +came into the room, salaaming on the threshold, carrying a black tin.</p> + +<p>"Would you like a little stroll in the garden?" said Coryndon. "It would +be pleasant before we sit down," and Hartley followed him out.</p> + +<p>"Did you bring any cigars down?"</p> + +<p>Hartley spoke for the sake of saying something, more than for any +reasonable desire to know whether Coryndon had done so or not, and his +reply was a low, amused laugh.</p> + +<p>"In ten minutes Shiraz will do a little juggling for your servants," he +said placidly. "There are no cigars in the tin. I hope you didn't want +one, Hartley? He will probably tell them that I am a new arrival, +picked up by him at Bombay. Whatever he tells them, they will find him +amusing."</p> + +<p>A misty moonlight lighted the garden with a soft, yellow haze, and the +harsh rattling of night beetles sounded unusually loud and noisy in the +silence.</p> + +<p>"You said that you had just finished a job?"</p> + +<p>"I have, and now I am on leave. The Powers have given me four months, +and I am going to London to hear the Wagner Cycle. I promised myself +that long ago, and unless something very special crops up to prevent me, +I shall start in a week from now."</p> + +<p>They took another silent turn.</p> + +<p>"Did your last job work out?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It took a long time, but I got back into touch with things I had +begun to forget, and it was interesting. Shall we go back into the +house?"</p> + +<p>"Come in here," said Hartley, taking his way into the sitting-room. "I +have some notes in my safe that I want you to look at. The truth is, +Coryndon, I'm tackling rather a nasty business, and if you can help me, +I'll be eternally grateful to you. It has got on my nerves."</p> + +<p>Coryndon bowed his head silently and drew up a chair near the table. All +the time that Hartley talked to him, he listened with close attention. +The Head of the Police went into the whole subject at length, telling +the story as it had happened, and leaving out, so far as he knew, no +point that bore upon the question. First he told of the disappearance of +the boy Absalom, the grief and frantic despair of Mhtoon Pah, and his +visit to Hartley in the very room where they sat.</p> + +<p>"He was away from the curio shop that night, you say?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, at the Pagoda. He is building a shrine there. His statement to me +was that he went away just after dark, and the boy had already left an +hour before."</p> + +<p>Coryndon said nothing, but waited for the rest of the story, and, bit by +bit, Hartley set it before him.</p> + +<p>"Heath saw Absalom, and admitted it to me," he said, pulling at his +short, red moustache. "Even then he showed a very curious amount of +irritation, and refused to say anything further. Then he lied to me when +I went to the house, and there is Atkins' testimony to the fact that he +is paying a man to keep quiet."</p> + +<p>"Has the man reappeared since?"</p> + +<p>"Not since I had the house watched."</p> + +<p>Coryndon's eyes narrowed and he moved his hands slightly.</p> + +<p>"Next there is the very trifling evidence of Mrs. Wilder. It doesn't +count for much, but it goes to prove that she knows something of Heath +which she won't give away. She knows something, or she wouldn't screen +him. That is simple deduction."</p> + +<p>"Quite simple."</p> + +<p>"Now, with reference to Joicey," went on Hartley, with a frown. "I don't +personally think that Joicey knows or remembers whether he did see +Heath. My Superintendent swears that he did go down Paradise Street on +the night of the twenty-ninth, but Joicey is ill, and he said he wasn't +in Mangadone then. He has been seedy for some time and may have mixed up +dates."</p> + +<p>"You attach no importance to him?"</p> + +<p>"Practically none." Hartley leaned back in his chair and lighted a +cheroot.</p> + +<p>Coryndon touched the piece of silk rag with his hand.</p> + +<p>"This rag business is out of place, taken in connection with Heath."</p> + +<p>"I don't accuse Heath, Coryndon, but I believe that he <i>knows</i> where the +boy went. The last thing that was told me by Mhtoon Pah was that the +gold lacquer bowl that was ordered by Mrs. Wilder was found on the steps +of the shop. Though what that means, the devil only knows. Mhtoon Pah +considers it likely that the Chinaman, Leh Shin, put it there, but I +have absolutely nothing to connect Leh Shin with the disappearance, and +I have withdrawn the men who were watching the shop."</p> + +<p>"Interesting," said Coryndon slowly.</p> + +<p>"Can you give me any opinion? I'm badly in need of help."</p> + +<p>Coryndon shook his head, his hand still touching the stained rag idly.</p> + +<p>"I could give you none at all, on these facts."</p> + +<p>Hartley looked at him with a fixed and imploring stare.</p> + +<p>"In a place like this, to be the chief mover, the actual incentive to +disclosing God knows what, is simply horrible," he said in a rough, +pained voice. "I've done my share of work, Coryndon, and I've taken my +own risks, but any cases I've had against white men haven't been against +men like the Padré."</p> + +<p>Coryndon gave a little short sigh that had weariness in its sound, +weariness or impatience.</p> + +<p>"What you have told me involves three principals, and a score of +others." He was counting as he spoke. "Any one of them may be the man +you are looking for, only circumstances indicate one in particular. You +are satisfied that you have got the line. I could not confidently say +that you have, unless I had been working the case myself, and had +followed up every clue throughout."</p> + +<p>Hartley got up and paced the room, his hands deep in the pockets of his +dinner jacket.</p> + +<p>"I am convinced that Heath will have to be forced to speak, and, I may +as well be honest with you—I don't like forcing him."</p> + +<p>Coryndon was not watching his host, he was leaning back in his chair, +his eyes on a little spiral of smoke that circled up from his cigarette.</p> + +<p>"I wish that damned little Absalom had never been heard of, and that it +was anybody's business but mine to find him, if he is to be found."</p> + +<p>If Coryndon's finely-cut lips trembled into an instantaneous smile, it +passed almost at once, and he looked quietly round at Hartley, who still +paced, looking like an overgrown schoolboy in a bad mood.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could help you, Hartley, but I have not enough to go on. As +you say, the case is unusual, and it makes it impossible for me to +advise." He got up and stretched himself. "There is one thing I will +do, if you wish it, and, from what you said, you may wish it; I will +take over the whole thing—for my holiday, and the Wagner Cycle will +have to wait."</p> + +<p>Hartley came to a standstill before his guest.</p> + +<p>"You'll do that, Coryndon?"</p> + +<p>"The case interests me," said Coryndon, "otherwise, I should not suggest +it." He paused for a moment and reflected. "I shall have to make your +bungalow my headquarters; that is the simplest plan. Any absences may be +accounted for by shooting trips and that sort of thing. That part of it +is straightforward enough, and I can see the people I want to see."</p> + +<p>"You shall have a free hand to do anything you like," said Hartley. "And +any help that I can give you."</p> + +<p>Coryndon looked at him for a moment without replying.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Hartley. Our methods are different, as you know, but when I +want you, I will tell you how you can help me."</p> + +<p>He walked across the room to where two tumblers and a decanter of whisky +stood on a tray, and, pouring himself out a glass of soda water, sipped +it slowly.</p> + +<p>"Here are my notes," said Hartley, in a voice of great relief. "They +will be useful for reference."</p> + +<p>Coryndon folded them up and put them in his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Most of what is there is also in my official report."</p> + +<p>Coryndon nodded his head, and, opening the piano, struck a light chord. +After a moment he sat down and played softly, and the air he played came +straight from the high rocks that guard the Afghan frontier. Like a +breeze that springs up at evening, the little love-song lilted and +whispered under his compelling fingers, and the "Song of the Broken +Heart" sang itself in the room of Hartley, Head of the Police. Where it +carried Coryndon no one could guess, but it carried Hartley into a very +rose-garden of sentimental fatuity, and when the music stopped he gave a +deep grunting sigh of content.</p> + +<p>"I'll get some honest sleep to-night," he said as they parted, and ten +minutes afterwards he was lying under his mosquito-curtains, oblivious +to the world.</p> + +<p>Coryndon's servant, Shiraz, was squatting across the door that led into +the veranda when his master came in, and he waited for his orders. He +would have sat anywhere for weeks, and had done so, to await the +doubtful coming of Coryndon, whose times and seasons no man knew.</p> + +<p>When he was gone, Coryndon took out the bulky packet of notes and +extracted the piece of rag, which he locked carefully away in a +dispatch-box. He then cleared a little space on the floor, and put the +papers lightly over one another. Setting a match to them, he watched +them light up and curl into brittle tinder, and dissolve from that stage +into a heap of charred ashes, which he gathered up with a careful hand +and put into the soft earth of a fern-box outside his veranda door. This +being done, he sat down and began to think steadily, letting the names +drift through his brain, one by one, until they sorted themselves, and +he felt for the most useful name to take first.</p> + +<p>"Joicey, the Banker, is a man of no importance," he murmured to himself, +and again he said, "Joicey the Banker."</p> + +<p>It was nearly dawn when he got between the cool linen sheets, and was +asleep almost as his dark head lay back against the soft white pillow.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XII" id="XII" />XII</h2> + +<h3>SHOWS HOW A MAN MAY CLIMB A HUNDRED STEPS INTO A PASSIONLESS PEACE, AND +RETURN AGAIN TO A WORLD OF SMALL TORMENTS</h3> + + +<p>By the end of a week Coryndon had slipped into the ways of Mangadone, +slipped in quietly and without causing much comment. He went to the Club +with Hartley and made the acquaintance of nearly all his host's friends, +and they, in return, gave him the casual notice accorded to a passing +stranger who had no part or lot in their lives or interests. Coryndon +was very quiet and listened to everything; he listened to a great deal +in the first three days, and Fitzgibbon, a barrister, offered to take +him round and show him the town.</p> + +<p>Coryndon was "shown the town," but apparently he found a lasting joy in +sight-seeing, and could witness the same sights repeatedly without +failing interest. He climbed the steps to the Pagoda, under the guidance +of Fitzgibbon, the first afternoon they met.</p> + +<p>"Won't you come, too, Hartley?" asked the Barrister.</p> + +<p>"Not if I know it. I've been there about sixty times. If Coryndon wants +to see it, I'm thankful to let him go there with you."</p> + +<p>Fitzgibbon, who had a craze for borrowing anything that he was likely +to want, had persuaded Prescott, the junior partner in a rice firm, to +lend him his car, and as he sat in the tonneau beside Coryndon, he +pointed out the places of interest. Their way lay first through the +residential quarter, and Hartley's guest saw the entrance gate and +gardens of Draycott Wilder's house.</p> + +<p>"The most interesting and certainly the best-looking woman in Mangadone +lives there, a Mrs. Wilder. Hartley ought to have told you about her; he +is rather favoured by the lady. Her husband is a rising civilian. Mrs. +Wilder has bought Asia, and is wondering whether she'll buy Europe +next."</p> + +<p>Coryndon hardly appeared impressed or even interested.</p> + +<p>"So she is a friend of Hartley's?" he said carelessly. "I hadn't heard +that."</p> + +<p>Fitzgibbon laughed.</p> + +<p>"It's something to be a friend of Mrs. Wilder—that is, in Mangadone."</p> + +<p>They sped on over the level road, and the car swung through the streets +that led towards the open space before the temple.</p> + +<p>"That is the curio dealer's shop. Don't get any of your stuff there. The +man's a robber."</p> + +<p>"Which shop?" asked Coryndon patiently.</p> + +<p>"We're past it now, but it was the one with a dancing man outside of it, +a funny little effigy."</p> + +<p>Coryndon's eyes were turned to the Pagoda, and he was evidently +inattentive.</p> + +<p>"It strikes you, doesn't it?" asked Fitzgibbon, in the tones of a +gratified showman. "It always does strike people who haven't seen it +before."</p> + +<p>"Naturally, when one has not seen it before," echoed his companion, as +the car drew up.</p> + +<p>Coryndon stood for a moment looking at the entrance, and surveying the +huge plaster dragons with their gaping mouths and vermilion-red tongues. +They were ranged up a green slope, two on either side of the brown +fretted roof that covered the steep tunnel that led up a flight of more +than a hundred steps to the flat plateau, where the golden spire towered +high over all, amid a crowd of lesser minarets.</p> + +<p>Surrounded by baskets of roses and orchids, little silk-clothed Burmese +girls sat on the entrance steps, and sold their wares. Fitzgibbon would +have hurried on, but Coryndon, in true tripper fashion, stopped and +bought an armful of blossoms.</p> + +<p>"What am I to do with these things?" he asked helplessly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you'd better leave them before one of the <i>Gaudamas</i>, and acquire +merit. If you let them all plunder you like this, we'll never get to the +top."</p> + +<p>Flight after flight, the two men climbed slowly, and Coryndon stood at +intervals to watch the crowd that came up and down. The steps were so +steep that the arch above them only disclosed descending feet, but +Coryndon watched the feet appear first and then the rest of the hurrying +or loitering men and women, and he sat on a seat beside a little +gathering of yellow-robed <i>Hypongyis</i> until Fitzgibbon lost all +patience.</p> + +<p>"There is a whole town of piety to see up at the top. Come on, man; we +have hours of it yet to get through. Don't waste time over those stalls. +Every picture of the Buddha story was made in Birmingham."</p> + +<p>Progressing a little faster, Fitzgibbon piloted Coryndon past a stall +where yellow candles and bundles of joss-sticks in red paper cases were +sold at a varying price.</p> + +<p>"I must get some of these," objected Coryndon, who added a rupee's worth +of incense and a white cheroot to his collection.</p> + +<p>When they passed through the last archway and gained the plateau, he +looked round with eyes that spoke his keen interest. Even though he had +been there many times before, Coryndon looked at the sight with eyes +that grew shadowed by the dreaming soul that lived within him.</p> + +<p>Twilight was gathering behind the trees; only the gold-laced spires of a +thousand minarets caught the last light of the sun. On the plateau below +the great pillar, that glimmered like a golden sword from base to +bell-hung <i>Htee</i>, lay what Fitzgibbon had described as "a little town of +piety." A village of shrines and Pagodas, each built with seven roofs, +open-fronted to disclose the holy place within; some large as a small +chapel; some small, giving room only for the figure of the <i>Gaudama</i>. +Here and there, the votive offerings had fallen into decay, and the +gold-leaf covering the Buddha was black and dilapidated by the passing +of years, for there is no merit to be acquired in rebuilding or +renovating a sacred place. From innumerable shrines, uncounted Buddhas +looked out with the same long, contemplative eyes; in bronze, in jade, +in white and black marble, in grey stone and gilded ebony, the +passionless face of the great Peace looked out upon his children.</p> + +<p>Near to where Coryndon and the Barrister stood together, in the +peach-coloured evening light, a large shrine with a fretted roof was +thronged with worshippers, and Coryndon stood on the steps and looked +in. The floor of black, polished marble dimly reflected the immense gold +pillars that supported a lofty ceiling, lost entirely in the gloom, and +before a blaze of candles and a floating veil of scented grey smoke a +priest bowed himself, and prayed in a low, chanting voice. The face of +the Lord Buddha behind the rails was lighted by the wind-blown flame of +many tapers, so that it almost looked as though he smiled out of his +far-away Nirvana upon his kneeling worshippers, who could ask nothing of +him, not even mercy, since the salvation of a man is in his own hands.</p> + +<p>Before the rails, a settle with low gilt legs was covered with offerings +of flowers, that added their scent to the heavy air, and on a small +table a feast of cakes and sweets was placed, to be distributed later on +among the poor. Coryndon disposed of his burden of pink and white roses +and little magenta prayer-flags, and lighted a bundle of joss-sticks, +before they came out again and wandered on.</p> + +<p>As the daylight faded the lights from the shrines and the small booths +grew stronger, and the rising night wind, coming in from the river, rang +the silver bells around the spires, filling the whole air with tinkling +sound, and the slow-moving crowd around them laughed and joked, like +people at a fair. His eyes still full of dreams, Coryndon followed with +them, keeping one small packet of amber candles to light in honour of +some other Buddha in another shrine.</p> + +<p>"Funny devils, these Burmese," remarked the Barrister. "They never clean +up anything. Look at the years of tallow collected under that spiked +gate that is falling off its hinges. That black little Buddha inside +must once have been a popular favourite, but no one gives him anything +now."</p> + +<p>They turned a corner past a booth where bottles full of pink and yellow +fluid, and green leaves, wrapped around betel-nut, appeared to be the +chief stock-in-trade, and a noise of hammering struck on their ears. +Here a new shrine was being erected and was all but completed. A few +Chinamen, who had been working at it, were putting their tools into +canvas bags, preparatory to withdrawing like the remaining daylight.</p> + +<p>"This is Mhtoon Pah's edifice," said Fitzgibbon, coming to a standstill. +"He doesn't seem to have spared expense, either. Shall we go in?"</p> + +<p>The shrine was not a very large one, and the entrance was like the +entrance to a grotto at an Exhibition. Tiny facets of glass were crusted +into grass-green cement, shining like a thousand eyes, and, seated on a +vermilion lacquer daïs, a Buddha, with heavy eyelids that hid his +strange eyes, presided over an illumination of smoking flame. The smell +of joss-sticks was heavy on the air, and the filigree cloak worn by the +Buddha was enriched with red and green glass that shone and glittered.</p> + +<p>"They say the caste-mark in his forehead is a real diamond," remarked +the Barrister. "I don't suppose it is, but at least it is a good +imitation."</p> + +<p>Coryndon was not listening to him; he had gone close to the marble +rails, and was lighting his little bunch of yellow tapers. He lighted +them one by one, and put each one down on the floor very slowly and +carefully, and when he had finished he turned round.</p> + +<p>"Mhtoon Pah is the man who has the curio shop?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"The very same. It gives you some idea of his percentage on sales, +what?"</p> + +<p>Coryndon joined in his laugh, and they went out again into the street of +sanctity. Fitzgibbon was now getting exhausted, for his companion's +desire to "do" the Pagoda was apparently insatiable; and he asked +interminable questions that the Barrister was totally unable to answer.</p> + +<p>Coryndon seemed to find something fresh and interesting around every +corner. The white elephants delighted him, particularly where green +creepers had grown round their trunks, giving them a realistic effect of +enjoying a meal. The handles off very common English chests-of-drawers, +that were set along a rail enclosing a sleeping Buddha, pleased him like +a child, as did the bits of looking-glass with "Black and White Whisky," +or "Apollinaris Water," inscribed across their faces.</p> + +<p>"That sort of thing seems to attract them," explained Fitzgibbon. "In +one of the shrines there is a fancy biscuit-box at a Buddha's feet. It +has got 'Huntley and Palmer' on the top, and pictures of children and +swans all around it. Funny devils, I always say so."</p> + +<p>At length he had to drag Coryndon away, almost by main force.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to have seen Mhtoon Pah," he objected. "He ought to be on view +with his chapel."</p> + +<p>"Shrine, Coryndon. You can see him in his shop," and they began the +descent down the steep steps.</p> + +<p>"Look," said the Barrister quickly, "there is Mhtoon Pah. No, not the +man in white trousers, that's a Chinaman with a pigtail under his hat; +the fat old thing in the short silk <i>loongyi</i> and crimson head-scarf."</p> + +<p>Coryndon hardly glanced at him, as he passed with a scent of spice and +sandal-wood in his garments; his attention had been attracted by a booth +where men were eating curry.</p> + +<p>"It is a curious custom to sell food in a place like this," he remarked +to the Barrister.</p> + +<p>"It's part of the Oriental mind," replied his guide. "No one understands +it. No one ever will; so don't try and begin, or you'll wear yourself +out."</p> + +<p>When they got back to the Club it was already late, and the hall of the +bar was crowded with men, standing together in groups, or sitting in +long, uncompromising chairs under the impression that they were +comfortable seats.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Joicey," said the Barrister, as he fell over his legs. "I'm +dog-beat. Been doing the Pagoda with Coryndon. Do you know each +other—?" He waved his hand by way of introduction, and Coryndon took an +empty chair beside the Banker, who heaved himself up a little in his +seat, and signalled to a small boy in white, who was scuffling with +another small boy, also in white, and ordered some drinks.</p> + +<p>"I am new to it," explained Coryndon, and his voice sounded tired, as +though the Pagoda had been a little too much for him.</p> + +<p>Joicey did not reply; he was looking away, and Coryndon followed his +eyes. Near the wide staircase, and just about to go up it, a man was +standing, talking to a friend. He was dressed in an ill-cut suit of +white, with a V-shaped inlet of black under his round collar; he held a +<i>topi</i> of an old pattern under his arm, and the light showed his face +cadaverous and worn. Joicey was holding the arm of his chair, and his +under-lip trembled.</p> + +<p>"Inexplicable," he muttered, and drank with a gulping sound.</p> + +<p>"What did you say?" asked Coryndon politely.</p> + +<p>"Say? Did I say anything? I can't remember that I did." The Banker's +voice was irritable, and he still watched the clergyman.</p> + +<p>"What strikes me about the Pagoda is the strong Chinese element in the +design. I am told that there are a lot of Chinamen in Mangadone. I +should like to see their quarter."</p> + +<p>"Hartley should be able to arrange that for you."</p> + +<p>Joicey was evidently growing tired of Coryndon's freshness and +enthusiasm, and he passed his hand over his face, as though the damp +heat of the night depressed his mind.</p> + +<p>"Hartley is very busy," said Coryndon, with the determination of a man +who intends to see what he has come to see. "I don't like to be +perpetually badgering him. Could I go alone?"</p> + +<p>"You could," said Joicey shortly.</p> + +<p>"I want to miss nothing."</p> + +<p>Coryndon turned his head away and looked at the crowded room, fixing his +gaze on a whirring fan that hung low on a brass rod, and when he looked +round again, Joicey had got up and was making his way out into the +night. Fitzgibbon was surrounded by several other men, and there was no +sign of his friend Hartley, so he got up and slipped out, standing +hatless, until his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness.</p> + +<p>The strong lights from the veranda encroached some way into the gloom, +and, here and there, a few people still sat around basket tables, +enjoying the evening air. Coryndon looked at them, with his head bent +forward, a little like a cat just about to emerge through a door into a +dark passage. For a little time, he stood there, watching and listening, +and then he turned away and walked out along the footpath, as though in +a hurry to get back to his bungalow.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII" />XIII</h2> + +<h3>PUTS FORWARD THE FACT THAT A SUDDEN FRIENDSHIP NEED NOT BE BASED UPON A +SUDDEN LIKING; AND PASSES THE NIGHT UNTIL DAWN REVEALS A SHAMEFUL SECRET</h3> + + +<p>Some ten days after Coryndon had taken up his quarters with Hartley, he +informed his host that he intended to disappear for a time, and that he +would take his servant, Shiraz, with him. He had been through every +quarter of Mangadone before he set out to commence operations, and the +whole town lay clear as a map in his mind.</p> + +<p>Hartley was dining out, "dining at the Wilders'," he said casually, and +he further informed Coryndon that Mrs. Wilder had asked him to bring his +friend, but no amount of persuasion could induce Coryndon to forgo an +evening by himself. He pointed out to Hartley that he never went into +society, and that he found it a strain on his mind when he required to +think anything through, and, with a greater show of reluctance than he +really felt, Hartley conceded to his wish, and Coryndon sat down to a +solitary meal. He ate very sparingly and drank plain soda water, and +whilst he sat at the table his long, yellow-white fingers played on the +cloth, and his eyes followed the swaying punkah mat with an odd, +intense light in their inscrutable depths.</p> + +<p>He had made Hartley understand that he never talked over a case, and +that he followed it out entirely according to his own ideas, and Hartley +honestly respected his reserve, making no effort to break it.</p> + +<p>"When the hands are full, something falls to the ground and is lost," +Coryndon murmured to himself as he got up and went to his room. +"Shiraz," he called, "Shiraz," and the servant sprang like a shadow from +the darkness in response to his master's summons.</p> + +<p>"To-night I go out." Coryndon waved his hand. "To-morrow I go out, and +of the third day—I cannot tell. Let it be known to the servant people +that, like all travelling Sahibs, I wish to see the evil of the great +city. I may return with the morning, but it may be that I shall be +late."</p> + +<p>"<i>Inshallah, Huzoor</i>," murmured Shiraz, bowing his head, "what is the +will of the Master?"</p> + +<p>"A rich man is marked among his kind; where he goes the eyes of all men +turn to follow his steps, but the poor man is as a grain of sand in the +dust-storm of a Northern Province. Great are the blessings of the humble +and needy of the earth, for like the wind in its passing, they are +invisible to the eyes of men."</p> + +<p>Shiraz made no response; he lowered the green chicks outside the doors +and windows, and opened a small box, battered with age and wear.</p> + +<p>"The servant's box is permitted to remain in the room of the Lord +Sahib," he said with a low chuckle. "When asked of my effrontery in this +matter, I reply that the Lord Sahib is ignorant, that he minds not the +dignity of his condition, and behold, it is never touched, though the +leathern box of the Master has been carefully searched by Babu, the +butler of Hartley Sahib, who knows all that lies folded therein."</p> + +<p>While he spoke he was busy unwrapping a collection of senah bundles, +which he took out from beneath a roll of dusters and miscellaneous +rubbish, carefully placed on the top. The box had no lock and was merely +fastened with a bit of thick string, tied into a series of cunning +knots.</p> + +<p>When he had finished unpacking, he laid a faded strip of +brightly-coloured cotton on the bed, in company with a soiled jacket and +a tattered silk head-scarf, and, as Shiraz made these preparations, +Coryndon, with the aid of a few pigments in a tin box, altered his face +beyond recognition. He wore his hair longer than that of the average +man, and, taking his hair-brushes, he brushed it back from his temples +and tied a coarse hank of black hair to it, and knotted it at the back +of his head. He dressed quickly, his slight, spare form wound round the +hips with a cotton <i>loongyi</i>, and he pulled on the coat over a thin, +ragged vest, and sat down, while Shiraz tied the handkerchief around his +head.</p> + +<p>The art of make-up is, in itself, simple enough, but the very much more +subtle art of expression is the gift of the very few. It was hard to +believe that the slightly foreign-looking young man with Oriental eyes +could be the pock-marked, poverty-stricken Burman who stood in his +place.</p> + +<p>Slipping on a light overcoat, he pulled a large, soft hat over his head, +and walked out quickly through the veranda.</p> + +<p>"Now, then, Shiraz," he called out in a quick, ill-tempered voice. "Come +along with the lamp. Hang it; you know what I mean, the <i>butti</i>. These +infernal garden-paths are alive with snakes."</p> + +<p>Shiraz hastened after him, cringing visibly, and swinging a hurricane +lamp as he went. When they had got clear of the house and were near the +gate, Coryndon spoke to him in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"Pull my boots off my feet." Shiraz did as he was bidden and slipped his +master's feet into the leather sandals which he carried under his wide +belt. "Now take the coat and hat, and in due time I shall return, though +not by day. Let it be known that to-morrow we take our journey of seven +days; and it may be that to-morrow we shall do so."</p> + +<p>"<i>Inshallah</i>," murmured Shiraz, and returned to the house.</p> + +<p>By night the streets of Mangadone were a sight that many legitimate +trippers had turned out to witness. The trams were crowded and the +native shops flared with light, for the night is cool and the day hot +and stifling; therefore, by night a large proportion of the inhabitants +of Mangadone take their pleasure out of doors. In the Berlin Café the +little tables were crowded with those strange anomalies, black men and +women in European clothes. There had been a concert in the Presentation +Hall, and the audience nearly all reassembled at the Berlin Café for +light refreshments when the musical programme was concluded.</p> + +<p>Paradise Street was not behindhand in the matter of entertainment: there +was a wedding festival in progress, and, at the modest café, a thick +concourse of men talking and singing and enjoying life after their own +fashion; only the house of Mhtoon Pah, the curio dealer, was dark, and +it was before this house, close to the figure of the pointing man, that +the weedy-looking Burman who had come out of Hartley's compound stopped +for a moment or two. He did not appear to find anything to keep him +there; the little man had nothing better to offer him than a closed +door, and a closed door is a definite obstacle to anyone who is not a +housebreaker, or the owner with a key in his pocket; so, at least, the +Burman seemed to think, for he passed on up the street towards the river +end.</p> + +<p>From there to the colonnade where the Chinese Quarter began was a +distance of half a by-street, and Coryndon slid along, apologetically +close to the wall. He avoided the policeman in his blue coat and high +khaki turban, and his manner was generally inoffensive and harmless as +he sneaked into the low entrance of Leh Shin's lesser curio shop. A +large coloured lantern hung outside the inner room, and a couple of +candles did honour to the infuriated Joss who capered in colour on the +wall.</p> + +<p>All the hidden vitality of the man seemed to live in every line of his +lithe body as he looked in, but it subsided again as he entered, and he +stared vacantly around him.</p> + +<p>There was no one in the shop but Leh Shin's assistant, who was finishing +a meal of cold pork, and whose heavy shoulders worked with his jaws. He +ceased both movements when Coryndon entered, and continued again as he +spoke, the flap of his tweed hat shaking like elephants' ears. He +informed Coryndon, who spoke to him in Yunnanese, that Leh Shin was out, +so that if he had anything to sell, he would arrange the details of the +bargain, and if he wanted to buy, he could leave the price of the +article with the trusted assistant of Leh Shin.</p> + +<p>It took Coryndon some time to buy what he needed, which appeared to be +nothing more interesting than a couple of old boxes. The Burman needed +these to pack a few goods in, as he meditated inhabiting the empty, +rat-infested house next door but one to the shop of Leh Shin. Upon +hearing that they were to be neighbours, the assistant grew sulky and +informed Coryndon that trade was slack if he wished to sell anything, +but his eyes grew crafty again when he was informed that his new +acquaintance did not act for himself, but for a friend from Madras, who +having made much money out of a Sahib, whose bearer he had been for some +years, desired to open business in a small way with sweets and grain and +such-like trifles, whereby to gain an honest living.</p> + +<p>The assistant glanced at the clock, when, after much haggling, the deal +was concluded, and the Burman knotted the remainder of his money in a +small corner of his <i>loongyi</i>, and stood rubbing his elbows, looking at +the Chinaman, who appeared restless.</p> + +<p>"Where shall I find Leh Shin?" The Burman put the question suddenly. "In +what house am I to seek him, assistant of the widower and the +childless?"</p> + +<p>The boy leered and jerked his thumb towards the direction of the river.</p> + +<p>"Closed to-night, follower of the Way," he said with a smothered noise +like a strangled laugh. "Closed to-night. Every door shut, every light +hidden, and those who go and demand the dreams cannot pass in. I, only, +know the password, since my master receives high persons." He spat on +the floor.</p> + +<p>Coryndon bowed his head in passive subjection.</p> + +<p>"None else know my quantity," he murmured. "These thieves in the lesser +streets would mix me a poison and do me evil."</p> + +<p>The assistant scratched his head diligently and looked doubtfully at the +Burman.</p> + +<p>"And yet I cannot remember thy face."</p> + +<p>"I have been away up the big river. I have travelled far to that Island, +where I, with other innocent ones, suffered for no fault of mine."</p> + +<p>Leh Shin's assistant looked satisfied. If the Burman were but lately +returned from the convict settlement on the Andaman Islands, it was +quite likely that he might not have been acquainted with him.</p> + +<p>To all appearances, the bargain being concluded, and Leh Shin being +absent from the shop, there was nothing further to keep the customer, +yet he made no sign of wishing to leave, and, after a little preamble, +he invited the assistant to drink with him, since, he explained, he +needed company and had taken a fancy to the Chinese boy, who, in his +turn, admitted to a liking for any man who was prepared to entertain him +free of expense. Leh Shin's assistant could not leave the shop for +another hour, so the Burman, who did not appear inclined to wait so +long, went out swiftly, and came back with a bottle of native spirit.</p> + +<p>Fired by the fumes of the potent and burning alcohol, the Chinaman +became inquisitive, and wished to hear the details of the crime for +which his new friend had so wrongfully suffered. He looked so evil, so +greasy, and so utterly loathsome that he seemed to fascinate the Burman, +who rocked himself about and moaned as he related the story of his +wrong. His words so excited the ghoulish interest of his listener that +his bloated body quivered as he drank in the details.</p> + +<p>"And so ends the tale of his great evil; he that was my friend," said +Coryndon, rising from his heels as he finished his story. "The hour +grows late and there is no comfort in the night, since I may not find +oblivion." He passed his hand stupidly over his forehead. "My memory is +lost, flapping like an owl in the sunlight; once the road to the house +by the river lay before me as the lines upon my open palm, but now the +way is no longer clear."</p> + +<p>"I have said that it is closed to-night, so none may enter. There is a +password, but I alone know it, and I may not tell it, friend of an evil +man."</p> + +<p>"There are other nights," whined the Burman, "many of them in the +passing of a year. When I have the knowledge of thee, then may I seek +and find later." He rubbed his knees with an indescribable gesture of +mean cringing.</p> + +<p>The Chinese boy drank from the bottle and smacked his lips.</p> + +<p>"Hear, then, thou convict," he said in a shrill hectoring voice. "By the +way of Paradise Street, along the wharf and past the waste place where +the tram-line ends and the houses stand far apart. Of the houses of +commerce, I do not speak; of the mat houses where the Coringyhis live, I +do not speak, but beyond them, open below to the water-snakes, and built +above into a secret place, is the house we know of, but Leh Shin is not +there for thee to-night, as I have already spoken."</p> + +<p>He felt in the pouch at his waist for a rank black cigar, which he +pushed into his mouth and lighted with a sulphur match.</p> + +<p>"Who fries the mud fish when he may eat roast duck?" he said, with a +harsh cackle that made the Burman start and stare at him.</p> + +<p>"<i>Aie! Aie!</i> I do not understand thy words." The Burman's face grew +blank and he went to the door.</p> + +<p>"Neither do you need to, son of a chained monkey," retorted the boy, +full of strong liquor and arrogance. "But I tell thee, I and my mate, +Leh Shin, hold more than money between the finger and the thumb,"—he +pinched his forefinger against a mutilated thumb. "More than money, +see, fool; thou understandest nothing, thy brain is left along with thy +chains in the Island which is known unto thee."</p> + +<p>"Sleep well," said the Burman. "Sleep well, child of the Heavens, I +understand thee not at all," and with a limp shrug of his shoulders, he +slid out of the narrow door into the night.</p> + +<p>Coryndon gave one glance at the sky; the dawn was still far off, but in +spite of this he ran up the deserted colonnade and walked quickly down +Paradise Street, which was still awake and would be awake for hours. +Once clear of the lessening crowd and on to the wharf, he ran again; +past the business houses, past the long quarter where the Coringyhis and +coolie-folk lived, and, lastly, with a slow, lurking step, to the close +vicinity of a house standing alone upon high supports. He skirted round +it, but to all appearances it was closed and empty, and he sat down +behind a clump of rough elephant-grass and tucked his heels under him.</p> + +<p>His original idea, on coming out, had been merely to get into touch with +Leh Shin, and make the way clear for his coming to the small, empty +house close to the shop of the ineffectual curio dealer, and now he +knew, through his fine, sharp instinct, that he was close upon the track +of some mystery. It might have nothing to do with the disappearance of +the Christian boy, Absalom, or it might be a thread from the hidden +loom, but, in any case, Coryndon determined to wait and see what was +going to happen. He was well used to long waiting, and the Oriental +strain in his blood made it a matter of no effort with him. Someone was +hidden in the lonely house, some man who paid heavily for the privacy of +the waterside opium den, and Coryndon was determined to discover who +that man was.</p> + +<p>The night was fair and clear, and the murmur of the tidal river gentle +and soothing, and as he sat, well hidden by the clump of grass, he went +over the events of the evening and thought of the face of Leh Shin's +assistant. Hartley had spoken of the bestial creature in tones of +disgust, but Hartley had not seen him to the same peculiar advantage. +Line by line, Coryndon committed the face to his indelible memory, +looking at it again in the dark, and brooding over it as a lover broods +over the face of the woman he loves, but from very different motives. He +was assured that no cruelty or wickedness that mortal brain could +imagine would be beyond the act of this man, if opportunity offered, and +he was attracted by the psychological interest offered to him in the +study of such a mind.</p> + +<p>The ripples whispered below him, and, far away, he heard the chiming of +a distant clock striking a single note, but he did not stir; he sat like +a shadow, his eyes on the house, that rose black, silent, and, to all +appearances, deserted, against the starry darkness of the sky. He had +got his facts clear, so far as they went, and his mind wandered out with +the wash of the water, and the mystery of the river flowed over him; the +silent causeway leading to the sea, carrying the living on its bosom, +and bearing the dead beneath its brown, sucking flow, full of its own +life, and eternally restless as the sea tides ebbed and flowed, yet +musical and wild and unchanged by the hand of man. Coryndon loved moving +waters, and he remembered that somewhere, miles away from Mangadone, he +had played along a river bank, little better than the small native +children who played there now, and he saw the green jungle-clearing, the +red road, and the roof of his father's bungalow, and he fancied he could +hear the cry of the paddy-birds, and the voices of the water-men who +came and went through the long, eventless days.</p> + +<p>Even while he thought, he never moved his eyes from the house. Suddenly +a light glimmered for a moment behind a window, and he sat forward +quickly, forgetting his dream, and becoming Coryndon the tracker in the +twinkling flash of a second. The inmates of the house were stirring at +last, and Coryndon lay flat behind his clump of grass and hardly +breathed.</p> + +<p>He could hear a door open softly, and, though it was too dark to discern +anything, he knew that there was a man on the veranda, and that the man +slipped down the staircase, where he stood for a moment and peered +about. He moved quietly up the path and watched it for a few minutes, +and then slid back into the house again. Coryndon could hear whispers +and a low, growled response, and then another figure appeared, a Sahib +this time, by his white clothes. He used no particular caution, and came +heavily down the staircase, that creaked under his weight, and took the +track by which Coryndon had come.</p> + +<p>Silhouetted against the sky, Coryndon saw the head and neck of a +Chinaman, and he turned his eyes from the man on the path to watch this +outline intently; it was thin, spare and vulture-like. Evidently Leh +Shin was watching his departing guest with some anxiety, for he peered +and craned and leaned out until Coryndon cursed him from where he lay, +not daring to move until he had gone.</p> + +<p>At last the silhouette was withdrawn and the Chinaman went back into the +house. He had hardly done so when Coryndon was on his feet, running +hard. He ran lightly and gained the road just as the man he followed +turned the corner by Wharf Street and plodded on steadily. In the +darkness of the night there are no shadows thrown, but this man had a +shadow as faithful as the one he knew so well and that was his companion +from sunrise to sunset, and close after him the poor, nameless Burman +followed step for step through the long path that ended at the house of +Joicey the Banker.</p> + +<p>Coryndon watched him go in, heard him curse the <i>Durwan</i>, and then he +ran once more, because the stars were growing pale and time was +precious. He was weary and tired when he crept into the compound outside +the sleeping bungalow on the hill-rise, and he stood at the gate and +gave a low, clear cry, the cry of a waking bird, and a few minutes +afterwards Coryndon followed Joicey's example and cursed the <i>Durwan</i>, +kicking him as he lay snoring on his blanket.</p> + +<p>"Open the door, you swine," he said in the angry voice of a belated +reveller, "and don't wake the house with that noise."</p> + +<p>Even when he was in his room and delivered himself over to the +ministrations of Shiraz, he did not go to bed. He had something to think +over. He knew that he had established the connection between Joicey the +Banker and the spare, gaunt Chinaman who kept a shop for miscellaneous +wares in the dark colonnade beyond Paradise Street. Joicey had a short +memory: he had forgotten whether he had met the Rev. Francis Heath on +the night of the 29th of July, and had imagined that he was not there, +that he was away from Mangadone; and as Coryndon dropped off to sleep, +he felt entirely convinced that, if necessary, he could help Joicey's +memory very considerably.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV" />XIV</h2> + +<h3>TELLS HOW SHIRAZ, THE PUNJABI, ADMITTED THE FRAILTIES OF ORDINARY +HUMANITY, AND HOW CORYNDON ATTENDED AFTERNOON SERVICE AND CONSIDERED THE +VEXED QUESTION OF TEMPERAMENT.</h3> + + +<p>The day following Coryndon's vigil outside the lonely house by the river +was dull and grey, with a woolly sky and a tepid stillness that hung +like a tangible weight in the air. Its drowsiness affected even the +native quarter, but it in no way lessened the bustle of preparations for +departure on the part of Coryndon, who ordered Shiraz to pack enough +clothes for a short journey, and to hold himself in readiness to leave +with his master shortly after sunrise the following day. His master also +gave him leave to go to the Bazaar and return at his own discretion, as +he was going out with Hartley Sahib.</p> + +<p>It was about noon, when the sun had struggled clear of the heavy clouds, +that Shiraz found himself in the dark colonnade locking an empty house +behind him with his own key, and, being a stately, red-bearded follower +of the Prophet, with a general appearance of wealth and dignity, he +walked slowly until he came to the doorway of Leh Shin's shop. His step +caused the Chinaman to look up from the string bed where he lay, gaunt, +yellow and unsavoury, his dark clothes contrasting with the flowing +white garments of the venerable man who regarded him through his +spectacles.</p> + +<p>"The hand of Allah has led me to this place," said Shiraz in his low, +reflective tones. "I seek for a little prayer-mat and a few bowls of +brass for my food; likewise, a bed for myself, and a bed of lesser value +for my companion. Hast thou these things, Leh Shin?"</p> + +<p>Leh Shin went into his back premises and returned with the bowls and the +prayer-mat.</p> + +<p>"The bed for thyself, O Haj, and the bed of lesser value for thy friend, +I shall make shift to procure. Presently I will send my assistant, the +eyes of my encroaching age, to bring what you need."</p> + +<p>"It is well," said Shiraz, who was seated on a low stool near the door, +and who looked with contemplative eyes into the shop.</p> + +<p>Leh Shin huddled himself on to the string couch again, and the slow +process of bargain-driving began. Pice by pice they argued the question, +and at last Shiraz produced a handful of small coin, which passed from +him to the Chinaman.</p> + +<p>"I had already heard of thee," said Leh Shin, scratching his loose +sleeves with his long, claw-like fingers. "But thy friend, the Burman, +who spoke beforehand of thy coming, and who still recalls the mixture of +his opium pipe, I cannot remember." He hunched his shoulders. "Yet even +that is not strange. My house by the river is a house of many faces, +yet all who dream wear the same face in the end," his voice crooned +monotonously. "All in the end, from living in the world of visions, +become the same."</p> + +<p>Shiraz bowed his head with grave courtesy.</p> + +<p>"It was also told to me that you served a rich master and have stored up +wealth."</p> + +<p>"The way of honesty is never the path to wealth," responded Shiraz, in +tones of reproof. "So it is written in the Koran."</p> + +<p>Leh Shin accepted the ambiguous reply with an unmoved face.</p> + +<p>"Thy friend is under the hand of devils?"</p> + +<p>He put the remark as an idle question.</p> + +<p>"He is tormented," replied Shiraz, pulling at his beard. "He is much +driven by thoughts of evil, committed, such is his dream, by another +than himself; and yet the <i>Sirkar</i> hath said that the crime was his own. +The ways of Allah are veiled, and Mah Myo is without doubt no longer +reasonable; yet he is my friend, and doth greatly profit thereby."</p> + +<p>"Ah, ah," said the Chinaman, placing a hubble-bubble before his guest, +who condescended to shut the mouthpiece in under his long moustache, +while he sat silently for nearly half an hour.</p> + +<p>"Dost thou sell beautiful things, Leh Shin?" he asked. "I have a gift to +bestow, and my mind troubles me. The Lady Sahib of my late master +suffered misfortune. She was robbed by some unknown son of a jackal, and +thereby lost jewels, the value of which was said to be great, though I +know not of the value of such things."</p> + +<p>Leh Shin curled his bare toes on the edge of his bed and looked at them +with a great appearance of interest.</p> + +<p>"Was the thief taken, O son of a Prophet?"</p> + +<p>"He was not. I have cried in the veranda, to see the Lady Sahib's +sorrow, and I have also prayed and made many offerings at the Mosque, +but the thief escaped. Now that my service with the Lord Sahib is +finished, and as he has assisted my poverty with small gifts, I would +like to make a present to the Lady Sahib. Some trifling thing, costing a +small sum in rupees, for her grief was indeed great, and it may avail to +console her sorrow."</p> + +<p>"For which sorrow thou, also, wept in the veranda," added Leh Shin.</p> + +<p>"The Lady Sahib had many bowls of lacquer, some green, some red, some +spotted like the back of a poison snake, but she lacked a golden bowl, +and, should I be able to procure one for a moderate price, it would add +greatly to her pleasure in remembering her servant, for, says not the +Wise One, 'a gift is a small thing, but the hand that holds it may not +be raised to smite.'"</p> + +<p>Shiraz, all the time he was speaking, had regarded the Chinaman from +behind his respectable gold-rimmed spectacles, and he noticed that Leh +Shin did not seem to care for the subject of lacquer, for his face +darkened and he stopped scratching.</p> + +<p>"I deal not in lacquer," he said quickly. "Neither touch thou the +accursed thing, O Shiraz. Leave it to Mhtoon Pah, who is a sorcerer and +whose lies mount as high as the topmost pinnacle of the Pagoda." The +Chinaman's lips drew back from his teeth, and he snarled like a dog. "I +will not speak of him to thee, but I would that the face of Mhtoon Pah +was under my heel, and his eyeballs under my thumbs."</p> + +<p>"Yet this golden bowl has been in my thought," the voice of Shiraz +flowed on evenly. "And I said that here, in Mangadone, I might find such +an one. Thou art sure that lacquer is accursed to thine eyes, Leh Shin? +That thou hast not such a bowl by thee, neither that thy assistant, when +he seeks the bed for myself and the lesser bed for my friend, could not +look craftily into the shop of this merchant, and ask the price as he +passeth, if so be that Mhtoon Pah has such a bowl to sell?"</p> + +<p>Leh Shin spat ferociously.</p> + +<p>"There was a bowl, a bowl such as you describe, O servant of Kings, and +I thought to procure it, for word was brought me that Mhtoon Pah had +need of it, and I desired to hold it before him and withdraw it again, +and to inspire his covetousness and rage and then to sell it from my own +hand, but he leagues with devils and his power is great, for, behold, +Honourable Haj, the bowl that was mine was lost by the man from the seas +who was about to sell it to me. Lost, in all truth, and after the lapse +of many days, Mhtoon Pah had it in his shop, and sold it to the Lady +Sahib."</p> + +<p>"The hands of a man of wealth are more than two," said Shiraz +oracularly.</p> + +<p>"Nay, not so, for all thy learning, Pilgrim from the Shrine of Mahomet. +The hands of this merchant, at the time I speak, were as my hands, or +thine," he held out his claws and snatched at the air as though it was +his enemy's throat. "For his boy, his assistant, the Christian Absalom, +who served him well, and whom Mhtoon Pah fed upon sweets from the +vendor's stall, was suddenly taken from him, and has vanished, like the +smoke of an opium pipe."</p> + +<p>Shiraz expressed wonder, and agreed with Leh Shin that sorcery had been +used, shaking his head gravely and at length rising to his feet.</p> + +<p>"The shadows lengthen and the hour of prayer draws near. It is time for +the follower of the Prophet to give a poor man's alms at the gate of the +Mosque, and to pray and praise," he said. "Thy assistant tarries, Leh +Shin; let him go forth with speed and place my purchase in thy keeping, +since I met thee in a happy hour, and shall return upon the morrow from +the <i>Serai</i>, where it is Allah's will that I pass the night in peace."</p> + +<p>Walking with a slow, regular pace, he left the native quarter, and +taking a tram, got out on the road below the bungalow where Hartley's +servant waited in the veranda.</p> + +<p>"Thy Sahib has cursed thy beard and thine age, and says that he will +replace thee with a younger man if thy dealings in the Bazaar are of +such long duration."</p> + +<p>"Peace, owl," said Shiraz. "The Sahib can no more travel without my +assistance than a babe of one day without his mother. Presently, when +the Sahib has drunk a peg, he will return to reason."</p> + +<p>"The Sahib is not within; he has but now gone out once more, asking +from my Sahib for the loan of a prayer-book. Doubtless, there is a +<i>Tamasha</i> at the 'Kerfedril,' and Coryndon Sahib goes thither to pray."</p> + +<p>"I shall place the buttons in his shirt, and recover an eight-anna piece +from the floor, which the master dropped yesterday, to deliver to him +when he shall return. Seek to be honest in thy youth, my son, for in +later life it will repay thee."</p> + +<p>Hartley's boy had not been mistaken when he heard Coryndon ask for a +prayer-book and saw him go out on foot. The small persistent bell +outside St. Jude's Church was ringing with desperate energy to collect +any worshippers who might feel inclined to assemble there for evensong, +and the worshippers when collected under the tin roof numbered nearly a +dozen.</p> + +<p>It was a bare, barn-like Church, for the wealth of the Cantonment had +flowed in the direction of the Cathedral. The punkah mats flapped +languidly, and the lower part of the church was dark, only the chancel +being lighted with ungainly punkah-proof lamps, and the two altar +candles that threw their gleam on a plain gold cross, guttered in the +heat. A strip of cocoa-nut matting lay along the aisle, and the chancel +and altar steps were covered in sad, faded red. The organist did not +attend except on Sundays or Feast Days, and the service was plain, +conducted throughout by the Rev. Francis Heath.</p> + +<p>Coryndon took a seat about half-way up the nave, and when Heath came +into the church, he watched him with interest. He liked to watch a man, +whom it was his business to study, without being disturbed, and Heath's +face in profile, as he knelt at the reading desk, or in full sight as he +stood to read the lesson, attracted the fixed gaze of, at least, one +member of the small congregation. There was no sermon and the service +was short, and as he sat quietly in his place, Coryndon wondered what +frenzied moment of fear or despair could have driven this man into the +company of Joicey and Mrs. Draycott Wilder, unconscious perhaps of their +connection with him, but linked nevertheless by an invisible thread that +wound around them all.</p> + +<p>Beyond the fact that he had seen Mrs. Wilder, he had not taken her under +the close observation of his mental microscope. She stood on one side +until such time as he should have need to probe into her reasons for +silence, and he wondered if Hartley was right, and if, by chance, the +earnest face of the clergyman, with its burning, stricken eyes, had +appealed to her sympathy. Could it be so, he asked himself once or +twice, but the immediate question was the one that Coryndon gave his +mind to answer, and just then he was forming an impression of the Rev. +Francis Heath.</p> + +<p>He looked at his hands, at his thin neck, at the hollows in his cheeks +and the emotional quiver at the corner of his mouth, and he knew the man +was a fanatic, a civilized fanatic, but desperately and even horribly in +earnest. A believer in torment, a man who held the vigorous faith that +makes for martyrdom and can also pile wood for the fires that burn the +bodies of others for the eventual welfare of their souls. +Unquestionably, the Rev. Francis Heath was a man not to be judged by an +average inch rule, and Coryndon thought over him as he listened to his +voice and watched his strained, tempest-tossed face. Whether he was +involved in the disappearance of Absalom or not, he recognized that +Heath was a strong man, and that his ill-balanced force would need very +little to make him a violent man. It surprised him less to think that +Hartley attached suspicion to the Rector of St. Jude's than it had at +first, and he left the church with a very clear impression of the +clergyman put carefully away beside his appreciation of Leh Shin's +assistant. He had caught just a glimpse of the personality of the man, +and was busy building it up bit by bit, working out his idea by first +trying to fathom the temperament that dwelt in the spare body and drove +and wore him hour after hour.</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis Heath had paid some Chinaman to keep silence, but +though he might pay a Chinaman, he could do nothing with his own +conscience, and it was with a hidden adversary that he wrestled day and +night. Coryndon's face was pitiless as the face of a vivisecting +surgeon. Had she known of his mission, Mrs. Wilder might have beaten her +beautiful head on the stones under his feet, and she would have gained +nothing whatever of concession or mercy.</p> + +<p>Atkins and the Barrister were dining with Hartley that night, and as +Coryndon never cared to hurry over his dressing, he went at once to his +room and called Shiraz.</p> + +<p>"All is well, my Master," said Shiraz, in a low voice. "But it would be +wise if the Master were to curse his servant in a loud voice, since it +is expected that he will do so, and the monkey-folk in the servants' +quarter listen without, concealing their pleasure in the Sahib's wrath."</p> + +<p>When the proceedings terminated and Coryndon had accepted his servant's +long excuse for his delay, the doors were closed, Shiraz having first +gone out to shake his fist at Hartley's boy.</p> + +<p>"Thus much have I discovered, Lord Sahib," said Shiraz, when he had +explained that the house was in readiness and the necessary furniture +bought and stored temporarily at the shop of Leh Shin, the Chinaman. +"There is an old hate between these two men, he of the devil shop, and +the Chinaman, a hate as old as rust that eats into an iron bar."</p> + +<p>Coryndon lay back in his chair and listened without remark.</p> + +<p>"Among many lies told unto me, that is true; and again, among many lies, +it is also true that he had not, neither did he ever possess, the gold +lacquer bowl, on the subject of which my Master bade me question him. He +knows not how Mhtoon Pah found it, but he believes that it was through a +sorcery he practised, for the man is as full of evil as the chatti +lifted from the brink of the well is full of water."</p> + +<p>Coryndon smiled and glanced at Shiraz.</p> + +<p>"And you think so also, grandson of a Tucktoo, for though you are old, +your white hairs bring you no wisdom."</p> + +<p>"I am the Sahib's servant, but who knoweth the ways of devils, since +their footprints cannot be seen, neither upon the sand of the desert nor +in the snows of the great hills?"</p> + +<p>"Did he speak of Absalom?"</p> + +<p>"He told me, Protector of the Poor, that the boy, though of Christian +caste, was to Mhtoon Pah as the apple of his eye, and that he fed him +upon sweets from the vendor's stall. Let it be said, for thy wisdom to +unravel, that therefore Leh Shin felt mirth in his mind, knowing that +the heart of his foe was wrung as the <i>Dhobie</i> wrings the soiled +garment."</p> + +<p>Shiraz fell silent and looked up from the floor at the face of his +master, who got up and stretched himself.</p> + +<p>"Is my bath ready, Shiraz?"</p> + +<p>"All is prepared, though the <i>pani walla</i>, a worker of iniquity, steals +the wood for his own burning; therefore, the water is not hot, and ill +is done to the good name of Hartley Sahib's house."</p> + +<p>When he was dressed he strolled into the drawing-room, and sat down at +the piano, playing softly until Hartley came in.</p> + +<p>"Shall you be away long, do you suppose?" he asked, looking with +interest at Coryndon's smooth, black head.</p> + +<p>"I may be, but it is impossible to tell. If I want you, I will send a +message by Shiraz."</p> + +<p>The dinner passed off without incident, and not once did Coryndon open +the secret door of his mind, to add to the strange store of facts he had +gathered there. He wanted nothing from Atkins, who knew less of the Rev. +Francis Heath than he did himself, and he had to sustain his rôle of +ignorance of the country. The two men stayed late, and it seemed to +Coryndon that when men talk they do more than talk, they tell many +things unconsciously.</p> + +<p>Perhaps, if people realized, as Coryndon realized, the value of +restrained speech, we should know less of our neighbours' follies and +weaknesses than we do. There was a noticeable absence of interest in +what anyone else had to say. Atkins had his own foible, Fitzgibbon his, +and Hartley, who knew more of the ways of men, a more interesting, but +not less egoistic platform from which he desired to speak. They seemed +to stalk naked and unashamed before the eyes of the one man who never +gave a definite opinion, and who never asserted his own theories or +urged his own philosophy of life.</p> + +<p>Coryndon listened because it amused him faintly, but he was glad when +the party broke up and they left. What a planet of words it was, he +thought, as he sat in his room and reflected over the day. Words that +ought to carry value and weight, but were treated like so many loose +pebbles cast into void space; and he wondered as he thought of it; and +from wondering at the wordy, noisy world in which he found himself, he +went on to wonder at the greater silence that was so much more powerful +than words. "The value of mystery," was the phrase that presented itself +to his mind.</p> + +<p>During the evening, three men had enjoyed all the pleasure of +self-betrayal, and, from the place where he stood, unable ever to +express anything of his own nature in easy speech, he wondered at them, +with almost childlike astonishment. Fitzgibbon, garrulous and loose of +tongue, Atkins, precise and easily heated to wrath, conscious of some +hidden fear that his dignity was not sufficiently respected, and +Hartley, who had something to say, but who oversaid it, losing grip +because of his very insistence. Not one of them understood the value of +reserve, and all alike strove to proclaim themselves in speech, not +knowing that speech is an unsound vehicle for the unwary, and that +personality disowns it as a medium.</p> + +<p>Out of the mouth of a man comes his own condemnation: let him prosper +who remembers this truth. The value of mystery, the value of silence, +and above all things, the supreme value of a tongue that is a servant +and not a master; Coryndon considered these values and wondered again at +the garrulity of men. Talk, the fluid, ineffectual force that fills the +world with noise, that kills illusions and betrays every latent +weakness; surely the high gods laughed when they put a tongue in the +mouth of man. He pinched his lips together and his eyes lighted with a +passing smile of mirth.</p> + +<p>"In Burma, there are no clappers to the bells," he said to himself. +"Each man must strike hard before sound answers to his hand, and truly +it is well to think of this at times." And, still amused by the fleeting +memory of the evening, he went to bed and slept.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XV" id="XV" />XV</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH THE FURTHERING OF A STRANGE COMRADESHIP IS CONTINUED, AND A +BEGGAR FROM AMRITZAR CRIES IN THE STREETS OF MANGADONE</h3> + + +<p>Trade was slack in the shop of Leh Shin, the Chinaman. He had sat in the +odorous gloom and done little else than feel his arms and rub his legs, +for the greater part of the day. His new acquaintance, Shiraz, had taken +over possession of his goods, scrutinizing them with care before he did +so, in case the brass pots had been exchanged in the night for inferior +pots of smaller circumference, and in the end he had departed into his +own rat-burrow, two doors up the street, where his friend the Burman was +already established in a gloomy corner. Leh Shin heard of this through +his assistant, who had followed the coolie into the house, and +investigated the premises as he stood about, with offers of assistance +for his excuse.</p> + +<p>"They have naught with them, save only a box that has no lock upon it, +and also the boxes bought from thy shop, Leh Shin, but these are empty, +for I looked closely, when they talked in the hither room, where they +are minded to live. Jewels, didst thou say? Then that fox with the red +beard has sold them and the money is stored in some place of security."</p> + +<p>"Ah, ah," said the Chinaman, his eyes dull and fixed.</p> + +<p>"And 'ah, ah' to thee," retorted the assistant, who found the response +lacking in interest. "I would I knew where it was hidden."</p> + +<p>With a sudden change of manner he squatted near the ear of Leh Shin and +talked in a soft whisper.</p> + +<p>"Is not the time ripe, O wise old man, is not the hour come when thou +mayst go to the house of the white Sahib and demand a piece for closed +lips?"</p> + +<p>He pursed up his small mouth and pointed at it.</p> + +<p>Leh Shin shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I am already paid, and I will not demand further, lest he, whom we know +of, come no more. Drive not the spent of strength; since the price is +sufficient, I may not demand more, lest I sin in so doing."</p> + +<p>The assistant glared at him with angry eyes.</p> + +<p>"Fool, and thrice fool," he muttered under his breath, but Leh Shin did +not heed him, and did not even appear to hear what he said. For a long +time the old Chinaman seemed wrapped in his thought, and at last he got +up, and leaving the shop, went towards the principal Joss House that +faced the river.</p> + +<p>Coryndon had chosen the empty shop in the Colonnade for two reasons. It +was near Leh Shin, and near the strange assistant, who interested him +nearly as much as Leh Shin himself, and also it had the additional +advantage of being the last house in the block. A narrow alley full of +refuse of every description lay between it and the next block, and the +rickety house had doors that opened to the front, and to the side, and +by way of a dark lane directly from the back, making ingress or egress a +matter of wide choice.</p> + +<p>The shop front was shuttered, and left to the rats and cockroaches, and +up a flight of decrepit and shaky stairs, Shiraz had made what shift he +could to provide comfort for his master in the least dilapidated room in +the house. The walls were thin, and the plaster of the low ceiling was +smoke-grimed and dirty. The "bed of lesser value" was stored away in the +garret that lay beyond, and the prayer-mat was placed alongside the +toil-worn wooden <i>charpoy</i>, that was at least fairly clean and had all +four legs intact; and under this bed, the box that held a strange +assortment of clothing was put safely away. At the bottom of another +box, one of those bought by Coryndon himself from Leh Sin's assistant, +Shiraz had laid a suit of tussore silk, a few shirts and collars, and +anything that his master might require if he wished to revisit those +"glimpses of the moon" in the Cantonments; for Shiraz neglected nothing, +and had a genius for detail.</p> + +<p>A hurricane lamp, that threw impartial light upon all sides, stood on a +round table, and lighted the small room, and at one corner Coryndon sat, +clad in his Burmese <i>loongyi</i> and white coat, thinking, his chin on his +folded hands. He had taught himself to think without paper or pens, and +to record his impressions with the same diligent care as though he wrote +them upon paper. He could command his thoughts, and direct them towards +one end and one issue, and he believed that notes were an abomination, +and that, in his Service, memory was the only safe recorder of progress.</p> + +<p>He was fully aware that he was hunting what might well be a cold line, +and he thought persistently of Leh Shin, putting the other possible +issues upon one side. Hartley had allowed himself to be dominated by a +predisposition to account for everything through Heath, and Coryndon +warned himself against falling into the same snare with Leh Shin. He +thought of the Chinaman's shop, and he knew that it was built on the +same plan as his own dwelling. There was no basement, and hardly any +room beyond the open ground-floor apartment and the two upper rooms. +Nowhere, in fact, to conceal anything; and its thin walls could not +contain a single cry for help or prayer for mercy. It was possible to +have drugged the boy and smothered him as he lay unconscious, but unless +the murderers had chosen this method, Absalom could not have met his end +in the Chinaman's shop. There remained the house by the river to +investigate, and there remained hours and days, and possibly weeks, of +close watching, that might reveal some tiny clue, and for that Coryndon +was determined to wait and watch until it lay in the hollow of his palm.</p> + +<p>Acting the part of a man more or less astray in his wits, he wandered +out either late or early, with the vague, aimless step of a dreamer, and +stood about, staring vacantly. Leh Shin's shop attracted him, and he +would squat on the ground either just outside the narrow entrance, or +just within, and, with flaccid, dropping mouth, stare at the hanging +array of secondhand clothes, making himself a source of endless +entertainment for the boy, who found him easy to annoy and distress, and +consequently practised upon him with unwearying pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Wise one, where are the jewels stolen by thy Master?" he asked, +throwing the dregs of his drink over the Burman's bare feet.</p> + +<p>"Jewels, jewels? Nay, friend, jewels are for the rich; for the Raj and +the Prince; I have never seen one to hold in my hand and to consider +closely. As for the Punjabi, he is no master of mine. I did him a +service—nay, I have forgotten what the service was, as I forget all +things, save only the guilt of the evil man, once my friend."</p> + +<p>"Tell me once more thy story."</p> + +<p>The Burman cowered down and whimpered.</p> + +<p>"Since I put it into speech for thy ears, my trouble of mind has grown, +like moonlight in the mist. I may not speak it again. They, yonder, +would hear," he pointed at the clothes, that napped a little in the hot, +heavy wind that came in strong with the scents and smells of the Bazaar.</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh," said the boy, with a crackling laugh. "I will tell them not to +speak or stir. I have power over them, and they shall repeat nothing. +Tell me the story, fool, or I will drive thee from thy corner, and the +children shall throw mud upon thee in the streets."</p> + +<p>Again and again the drama was repeated, and as Coryndon became part of +the day's amusement to Leh Shin's assistant, he grew to know exactly +what both the boy and his master did during the hours of the day. +Unknown and unsuspected, the Burman went in and out as they went in and +out. He appeared at the house by the river, he sat with his legs +dangling over the drop from the Colonnade into the streets, and he wore +out the hours in idleness, the dust of the Bazaar powdering his hair and +griming his face, but behind his vacant eyes, his quick brain was alive +and burning, and he felt after Leh Shin with invisible hands.</p> + +<p>Coryndon was never at the mercy of one idea only, and he began to see, +very soon after he had investigated the two houses—the ramshackle shop +and the riverside den—that if he intended to progress he could not +afford to sit in the street and drink in the café opposite Leh Shin's +dwelling for an interminable space of weeks. He had limitless patience, +but he was quick of action, and saw any flaw in his own system as soon +as a flaw appeared. Leh Shin was suspicious, and took precautions when +he went out at night, and this in itself made it dangerous to be +continually upon his heels in a character he knew and could recognize. +So long as there was anything to gain by remaining in his Burmese +clothing, Coryndon used it, avoiding the Chinaman and cultivating the +society of his assistant, but he soon began to realize that if he were +to follow as closely as he desired, he could not do so in his present +disguise.</p> + +<p>All day he sat watching the crowded street, shivering, though the sun +was warm, and breaking his silence with complaints that the fever was +upon him, and that he was sick, and that he could not eat. He whimpered +and whined so persistently that the assistant drove him off, for he +feared infection, and fancied he might be sickening for the plague.</p> + +<p>"Neither come thou hither, until thou art fully recovered," he added, +"lest I use my force upon thee."</p> + +<p>If a certain beggar who had sat for a whole month outside the Golden +Temple at Amritzar was to become reincarnated in the person of the idiot +Burman, the Burman must have a reason to offer to the inquisitive for +his temporary absence. Sickness is sudden and active in the streets of +any Bazaar, and when Shiraz learnt that he was to keep within the house +and report the various stages of the fever of his friend, he salaamed +and drew out the battered box from under the bed, and folded away the +<i>loongyi</i> and coat with care.</p> + +<p>Coryndon explained his plan of coming and going when the streets were +silent, and when he could do so without being noticed. If he came in the +daytime and asked for alms, Shiraz was to open and call him in to +receive food, but he would only do this in great emergency, as the +beggar did not wish to establish any connection with the Punjabi. If, on +the other hand, it was a matter of necessity for the Burman to reappear, +Shiraz was to walk along the street and bestow alms in the beggar's +bowl; and on the first opportunity Coryndon would return and make the +necessary change. The first difficulty was to get out of the house, and +to be in the street by twilight, when the close operation of watching +would have to begin.</p> + +<p>"The doors of the merciful are ever open to the poor; yet there is great +danger in going out by the way of the Bazaar."</p> + +<p>"There is a closed door at the back that I have well prepared," said +Coryndon, pulling a bit of sacking over his bent shoulders. "Remember +that an oiled hinge opens like the mouth of a wise man."</p> + +<p>The addition of one to the brotherhood of vagrancy that is part of every +Eastern Bazaar calls the attention of no one, and being a newcomer, +Coryndon contented himself with accepting a pitch in a district where +alms were difficult to obtain and small in value, but his humility did +not keep him there long, and he made a place for himself at the top of +Paradise Street, in the shadow of an arched doorway, where a house with +carved shutters and horseshoe windows was slowly mouldering through the +first stages of decay. From here he could see down the Colonnade, and +also watch the shop of Mhtoon Pah, as he alternately cursed or blessed +the passers, according to their gifts or their apathy.</p> + +<p>The heavy, slouching figure of the assistant went by to take up his +master's place in the waterside house, and the beggar wasted no time in +glancing after him. He knew his destination, and had no need to trouble +about the ungainly, walloping creature, who kicked him as he passed. It +was fresh, out in the street, and pleasant, and in spite of his musty +rags and his hidden face, Coryndon enjoyed the change of occupation.</p> + +<p>He saw the place much as it had been on the evening of July the 29th. +Mhtoon Pah came out and sat on his chair, smoking a cheroot, and +observing the street. In a good humour it would appear, for when the +beggar cringed past and sent up his plea for assistance, the curio +dealer felt in his pouched waist-sash and threw him a coin.</p> + +<p>"Be it requited to thee in thy next life, O Shrine-builder," murmured +the beggar, and he squatted down on the ground a little further on.</p> + +<p>He saw Shiraz come out and stand at the door, preparatory to setting +forth to the Mosque. Saw him lock it carefully and proceed slowly and +with great dignity through the crowd. He passed close to the beggar, but +took no notice of him, lifting his garments lest they should touch him, +and for this the beggar cursed him, to the entertainment of those who +listened.</p> + +<p>Blue shadows like wraiths of smoke enfolded the street at the far end, +and the clatter and noise grew stronger as the houses filled after the +day of toil. In one of the prosperous dwellings a gramophone was set +near the window, and the song floated out over the street, the +music-hall chorus from the merchant's house mingled in with the cry of +vendors hawking late wares at cheap prices.</p> + +<p>A hundred years ago, except for the gramophone and an occasional +<i>gharry</i>, the street might have been the same. The same amber light that +held only a short while after sunset, the same blue misty shadows, the +same concourse of colour and caste, the same talk of food, and the same +idle, loitering and inquisitive crowd.</p> + +<p>Coryndon watched it with eyes of love. Half of his nature belonged to +this place and was part of it. He understood their idleness, their small +pleasures, their kindness and their cruelty; and though the dominance of +the white race was strongest in him, he loved these half-brothers of his +because he understood them.</p> + +<p>Two young <i>Hypongyi</i> came past where he sat, and as they had nothing +else to give, gave him their blessing and a look of pity.</p> + +<p>"He did ill in his former life," said the elder of the two. "The balance +is adjusted thus, and only thus."</p> + +<p>"Great is the justice of the Law," replied the other, rubbing his shaven +crown reflectively, and then some noise of music or laughter attracted +them and they ran up the street to see what it might be, for they were +young, and there was no reason why they should not enjoy simple +pleasures.</p> + +<p>Coryndon knew that Leh Shin would certainly go to the Joss House that +night, and he knew that upon these occasions the Chinaman prayed long, +and that it would be dark before he entered the place of worship. For +another hour his time was free to watch the street, and without +attaching any particular consequence to the fact, he saw Mhtoon Pah get +up, rub his hands on his knees and lift his chair inside the door, which +he closed with a noise of dragging chains and creaking bolts.</p> + +<p>Slowly the last gleam withdrew, and the dust lost its effect of amber, +and the trees grew dark, and little whispering winds clapped the palm +leaves one on another with a dry, barking sound. Children still screamed +and played, and dogs yelped and offered to show fight, and still people +on foot came and went, and the dusk drew down a veil and the greater +noise subsided into a lower key.</p> + +<p>The beggar was no longer there, his place was empty and he had gone.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI" />XVI</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH LEH SHIN IS BREATHED UPON BY A JOSS, AND EXPERIENCES THE TERROR +OF A MAN WHO TOUCHES THE VEIL BEHIND WHICH THE IMMORTALS DWELL.</h3> + + +<p>Of all the savage desires that riot in the hearts of men, the lust of +revenge is probably the strongest. Civilization has done its best to +control and curb wild impulse; but as long as a cruel wrong rankles, or +a fierce longing to square an old account remains, there will be hands +thrust out to take the naked sword of the Lord into their own finite +grasp, and there will be men who will be content to pay the price so +that they may see the desire of their eyes.</p> + +<p>The Oriental has above the white races an illimitable patience in +awaiting his hour for retribution, for the heart of the East does not +forget and can hold a purpose silently through the dust-blown, sunlit +years, waiting for the dawn of the appointed day.</p> + +<p>When Leh Shin set out towards the Joss House, he was repeating a +procedure that had become constant with him of late. He knew that a Joss +was revengeful and terrible in matters of hate, therefore his prayer +would be understood in the strange region of power where the Great Ones +dwelt. His religion was a mixture of the teachings of Buddha, Confucius, +and Shinto, for long absence from his own country and constant +association with the Burmese and Japanese had blended and confused the +original belief that he had learnt in far-away Canton. To this basis was +added the grossest form of superstition, and the wildest fancies of a +brain muddled with the fumes of opium, but the one thing clear to him +was, that a Joss, though an immortal being, was able to comprehend +hatred.</p> + +<p>The gods punished terribly, slaying with plague and pestilence, +destroying life by flood and years of famine, and so Leh Shin knew that +they were very like men, taking full advantage of their fearful power +and punishing the smallest neglect with the utmost rigour. He could +appeal to a great invisible cruel brain and demand assistance for his +own limited desire for revenge, knowing that it was an attribute of +those whose help he sought, but he went in fear, with pricking nerves, +because his belief was strong in the power of the monsters he +worshipped.</p> + +<p>The Joss House stood in a wide street near the river; a stone courtyard +separated it from the thoroughfare, and the building itself was raised +on a terrace, led up to by two shallow flights of steps. The roof was a +marvel of sea-green mosaic, coiled over by dragons with flaming red +tongues and staring glass eyes, each dragon a wonder of fretted fins and +ivory teeth and claws. Upon each of the three roofs was set relief +mosaic, of beautiful workmanship, representing houses and ships and +bridges, with tiny men and women, and little trees, all as small as a +child's plaything, but complete, proportioned and entire. Huge stone +pillars covered with devils and crawling lizards supported the long +portico that ran the full length of the building, and between each +pillar an immense paper lantern gleamed like a dim moon.</p> + +<p>Leh Shin stood outside for a few moments and then plunged in, like a man +who is not sure of his nerve and cannot afford to wait too long lest his +determination to face what lay inside should fail him. On feast days the +Joss House was a gay place, full of lights and people crowding in and +out, and there was no room for fear, for even a Joss is not alarming in +company with many men, but when Leh Shin went in, the place was +deserted, and it seemed to him that the unseen power was terribly near +in the darkness.</p> + +<p>It was a vast, lofty building inside, supported by gold pillars and +black pillars, and in the centre near the door was a tank-shaped well +where pots of flowering plants and palms were set with no particular eye +to regularity or effect. As they shivered and rustled in the dark, they +were full of a suggestion of the fear that made Leh Shin's heart as cold +as a stone in a deep pool. Raised on a jade plinth, a low round pillar +stood directly in front of the rose-red curtains that were drawn across +the sanctuary space, and on the top of the pillar a bronze jar held one +scented stick, that burned slowly, like a winking, drowsy eye, its slow +spiral of incense creeping up into the air and losing itself in the high +arches of the pointed roof. Between the pillar and the sanctuary +itself, was a small table covered with an embroidered shawl, worked in +spangles that glittered and shone, and beneath the table were a number +of smooth stones.</p> + +<p>Leh Shin locked his hands together and passed up the aisle, close to +where the palm trees rustled and stirred, and fear was upon him like +that of a hungry dog. He crossed a line of light cast by some candles, +and it seemed to him that the curtains moved as he approached. The Joss +House was apparently empty, and yet it did not seem empty. Invisible +eyes watched behind the carved screens that shut out the priests' houses +on either side, invisible ears might easily catch the lowest whisper of +his prayer. Soundless impressions of moving things that had no shape +haunted his consciousness, and he started in panic as his own shadow +fell before him when he stepped across the burning candles and slid into +the close alley between the table and the shrine.</p> + +<p>He bent down suddenly and, feeling on the cold marble of the floor, took +up two of the stones and beat them together with the loud clapping noise +which proclaimed a suppliant. Bowed in the close space, he repeated his +prayer the requisite number of times, and it seemed to Leh Shin that the +Joss heard and accepted: the Joss who took visible shape in his mind, +with a face half-human and half-bestial, and who capered with a drawn +sword in his hand.</p> + +<p>Over his head the heavy curtains swayed again, and the tittering noise +from a nest of bats sounded like ghostly laughter. His prayer had drawn +power to his aid, out of the unknown place where the gods live, and +loosed it in response to his cry. He was only Leh Shin, a poor Chinaman +who kept a miserable shop in the native quarter and an opium den down +where the river water choked and gurgled at night, but he felt that he +had touched something in the terrible shadows, and once more he beat the +stones together, his face pouring with sweat. As the noise echoed up +again, the last candle fell dying into a yellow pool of melted wax, and +went out with an expiring flicker; and Leh Shin beat his hands against +the darkness that shut upon him like a wall. He sprang to his feet and +ran, and as he went wings seemed to bear down behind him. There was +terror alive in the Joss House, and before that terror he fled panting +and trembling, fearful that hands would close upon his black garments +and drag him back, holding him until he went mad. As he made for the +door he fancied he saw a shadowy form move in the gloom and clear his +path, and it added the last touch of panic to his mind.</p> + +<p>He leaned against an outer pillar for support, and gradually the noise +of the street drew him back again to reality and to the solid facts of +life once more. He had been badly scared, for in some cases when nothing +that can be expressed in words takes place, an infinitely greater thing, +that no words can express, has occurred mentally. To Leh Shin's +bewildered mind it was clear that he had actually felt a Joss breathe +upon him, and that he had heard its footsteps follow him across the +marble floor; the Joss who had shaken the curtains and extinguished the +candles.</p> + +<p>Still bewildered, Leh Shin crossed the courtyard and sat down on the +kerb; his head swam and he felt along his legs with shaking hands. A +belated fruit seller went by, and he bought a handful of dates, stuck on +a small rod and looking like immense beetles, and as he ate his +confidence in life gradually returned. The Joss was at a safe distance +in his house and there was the street to give courage to his heart; the +street where men walked safe and secure, and where a worse fear than the +fear of death did not prowl secretly.</p> + +<p>After a little while, he got up from the stifling dust and walked slowly +on. The streets flared with lights and the gold letters painted large on +signboards in huge Chinese characters shone out, making a brave show. +There were open restaurants where he could have gone in, and there were +houses of entertainment, hung with paper lanterns, that invited passers +with a sound of music, but Leh Shin continued his mechanical walk, +having another purpose in his mind.</p> + +<p>He turned out of the lighted glare of the shops and struck along a back +alley, where one street lamp gave the sole illumination, and stopping at +a low, arched door cut deep in a wall, he knocked and was admitted. +Inside the entrance was another door heavily clamped with iron, which +gave admission down a long, narrow passage to a room beyond. It was a +small room, not unlike a prison, with heavy iron bars against the +corridors, and it was quite bare of furniture except for two deal +tables, around which a crowd of men stood playing for money with +impassive faces and greedy, grasping hands. There was no mixture of race +among the men who gambled; they were all Chinese, most of them clad in +indigo-blue trousers and tight vests, though some of them wore white +shirts and rakish straw hats. The young men had close-clipped hair and +looked like clever bull-terriers, but the older men wore long pigtails +wound round their heads in black, rope-like coils. The noise of dominoes +thrown out by the man who held the bank and the rattle of dice were +almost the only sounds in the room.</p> + +<p>Under one table there was a small shrine, where a diminutive Joss +presided over the fortunes of Chance, but Leh Shin did not go to it as +was his usual habit before he began to play. He even eyed it uneasily +and kept at the further end of the room.</p> + +<p>He played with varying success for an hour, for two hours, and the third +hour was running out before he shuffled off down the close passage, his +scanty winnings tied in the corner of a rag stuffed into his belt, and +was let out through the heavily barred doors into the street. The +alley-way was deserted, and Leh Shin went down the kennel into the open +place with the walk of a man who has something definite to do. A beggar, +who had been sitting huddled under the wall of a house opposite, craned +his neck out of the shadows, and followed him quickly.</p> + +<p>Leh Shin had passed this last hour deliberately, so as to bring himself +to some appointed place neither earlier nor later than he desired to +get there, and Coryndon woke to the excitement of the chase again as he +followed along the Colonnade. It was easy to walk quickly under the roof +that ran from the entrance down to the turn that led into Paradise +Street, and Leh Shin did not even pause as he passed his own doorway but +made on rapidly until he came out at the far end. The hour was very +late, and the street silent. A drop in the temperature had driven the +sleepers who usually preferred the open to the closeness of walls, +within, and the whole double row of houses slept with gaping windows and +open doors.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah's curio shop was entirely closed. Every window had outer +shutters fastened, and no gleam of light showed anywhere, up or down the +high narrow front. When Leh Shin stopped in front of the doorway the +beggar sat down opposite to him a little further down the street, his +head bowed on his bosom. He watched Leh Shin prowl carefully round and +climb with monkey-like agility from the rails to the window-ledge, where +he peered in through the shutters, raising a broken lath to see into the +interior.</p> + +<p>Coryndon watched him with intent interest. The night was moonless, he +knew that if a match were struck in the interior of the shop it would +shine through the raised lath, and it was for that sight that his eyes +strained and ached with intense concentration. The patience of the +Chinaman made Coryndon feel that he was watching for something definite +to happen, and at length a yellow bar cut suddenly across the dark. +Coryndon's heart beat so loud that he feared its sound might be heard +across the narrow street, and he gripped his hands together. The curio +shop was no longer dark, for someone had come in with a lamp; Coryndon +crept forward, his eyes on the Chinaman, who had slipped back on to the +ground and had raced up the steps, beating against the door violently.</p> + +<p>"Come out, father of lies, come out and speak with me. I have news of +thy Absalom."</p> + +<p>The beggar was at the foot of the steps now, close beside the dancing +image, who smiled and called his attention to the rigid figure of Leh +Shin.</p> + +<p>"So thou hast news for me, unclean one? Of this shall the police hear +full knowledge two hours after dawn. Where hast thou hidden the body of +the boy who was the light of mine eyes, who was ever eager and honest in +business?"</p> + +<p>"Thou knowest, traitor," said the Chinaman, his voice hoarse with +passion, "what is dark unto others is clear unto me. Have I not the tale +of thy years written in the book of my mind?"</p> + +<p>For a moment there was dead silence, and then a voice full of smooth +malice and cruelty made answer to Leh Shin.</p> + +<p>"Get thee to thy bed, fool."</p> + +<p>"I wait," Leh Shin's voice cracked and trembled, "and when the hour that +is already written for thy destruction comes like the night-bat, it is +<i>I</i> who shall proclaim it to thee; thus I have demanded, and thus it +shall fall out."</p> + +<p>"O fruitful boaster, O friend of many years, thy words cause me great +mirth. Get thee to thy kennel, lest I do indeed come forth and twist thy +vulture's neck."</p> + +<p>A laugh of scorn was the only response to Mhtoon Pah's threat, and the +Chinaman turned and came down the steps.</p> + +<p>"Alms, alms," whined a sleepy voice. "The poor are the children of the +Holy One. I am blind and I know not the faces of men. Alms, alms, that +thy merit may be written in the book."</p> + +<p>"Ask of him that is in that house," said Leh Shin, pointing to the curio +shop. "Strike him with thy pestilence that his fatness fall from him and +his bones melt, and I will give thee golden rewards."</p> + +<p>The secret passion of the words was so intense that the beggar was +silenced, and Leh Shin passed on. He went from Paradise Street to a +small burrow near the Colonnade, and turned into a mean house where the +paper lantern still burned in token that the owners were awake. It was +quite clean inside, and divided into large cubicles. In each cubicle was +a table, covered with oilcloth, at the head of which was placed a red +lacquer pillow and a little glass lamp that gave the only light needed +in the long, low room. On the tables lay Burmen and Chinamen, some rigid +in drugged sleep, and some smoking immense pipes with small, cup-like +receptacles that held the opium. The proprietor was alert and wakeful as +he flitted about, an American cigarette between his lips, in this +strange garden of sleep.</p> + +<p>"I am weary," said Leh Shin. "Let me rest here."</p> + +<p>"It is great honour," replied the small, wizened old man, with the +laugh. "What of thine own house by the river?"</p> + +<p>"My limbs fail me. To-night my assistant supplies the needs of those who +ask, for I had a business."</p> + +<p>"And I trust thy business hath prospered with thee?"</p> + +<p>Leh Shin stretched himself out on a table near the door.</p> + +<p>"I await the hour of prosperity,"—he twisted a needle in the brown mass +that was offered to him and held it over the lamp. "Evil are the days of +a life whilst an old grudge burns like hot charcoal in the heart."</p> + +<p>"It is even so," agreed the proprietor, and he hurried away from the +noose of talk that Leh Shin would have cast around him.</p> + +<p>The beggar, having followed Leh Shin as far as the opium den, returned +along the Colonnade and knocked at the door of the house where Shiraz +waited anxiously for his master.</p> + +<p>"Is my bath prepared, Shiraz? I must wash before I sleep, and I shall +sleep late."</p> + +<p>Coryndon was weary. No one who has not watched through hours of strain +and suspense knows the utter weariness of mind and body that follows +upon the long effort of close attention, and he fell upon his bed in a +huddled heap and slept for hour after hour, worn out in brain and body.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII" />XVII</h2> + +<h3>TELLS HOW CORYNDON LEARNS FROM THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH WHAT THE REV. +FRANCIS HEATH NEVER TOLD HIM.</h3> + + +<p>When Coryndon sat up in his bed, and recalled himself with a jerk from +the drowsiness of night to the wakefulness of broad daylight, he called +Shiraz to give to him instructions.</p> + +<p>After dark, his master told him, he was going to return to the +Cantonments, and during his absence there were some matters which he had +decided to leave unreservedly in the hands of Shiraz. He was to +cultivate his acquaintance with Leh Shin, the Chinaman, worming his way +into his confidence and encouraging him to speak fully of the old hatred +that was still like live fire between him and the wealthy curio dealer. +Revenge may or may not take the shape and substance of the original +wrong done, and the limited intelligence of the Chinaman would suggest +payment in the same coin, so it was necessary for Coryndon to know the +actual facts of the ancient grudge. Further than this, Shiraz was to go +to the shop of Mhtoon Pah, and discover anything he could in the course +of conversation with the Burman.</p> + +<p>"Mark well all that is said, that when I return it may be disclosed to +mine eyes through thy spectacles," he concluded, tying the ragged ends +of his head-scarf over his forehead.</p> + +<p>He went down the staircase with a slow, dragging step, leaning on the +rail of the Colonnade when he got out into the street, and halting, with +a vacant stare, outside the shop of Leh Shin.</p> + +<p>"So thy devils have not yet caught thee and scalded thee with oil, or +burned thee in quicklime?" jeered the boy, as he watched a coolie sweep +out the shop.</p> + +<p>He was chewing a raw onion, and he swung his legs idly, for there was +nothing to do, and, on the whole, he was glad to have the mad Burman to +bait for half an hour's entertainment.</p> + +<p>"The sickness is heavy upon me, my legs are loaded as with wet sand, and +my mouth is parched like a rock in the desert," whined the Burman +plaintively.</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, not <i>thy</i> legs, and <i>thy</i> tongue. The legs and the mouth of +the evil man, thy friend, O dolt."</p> + +<p>The Burman shook his head stupidly.</p> + +<p>"The will of the Holy Ones is that I shall recover, and my friend has +said that I shall go a journey. I go by the terrain this night at +sunset."</p> + +<p>"Whither doth he send thee, unclean one?"</p> + +<p>The Burman smiled with a sudden look of cunning.</p> + +<p>"That is a word unspoken, and neither will I tell it. Thy desire to know +what concerns thee not is as great as thy fatness."</p> + +<p>With a doggedness that is often part of some forms of mania, the Burman +squatted in the dust, and under no provocation could he be induced to +speak. After midday he indicated by lifting his fingers to his mouth +that he intended to go in search of food; having worked Leh Shin's +assistant into a state of perspiring wrath by the simple process of +reiterating in pantomime that he was dumb. It must be admitted that +Coryndon got no small amount of pleasure out of his morning's +entertainment, and he doubled himself up as though in pain as he dragged +himself back to the house.</p> + +<p>The vanished beggar's tracks were entirely obliterated, and when the +Burman went off in a <i>gharry</i> in company with Shiraz, the whole street +knew that he was being sent away on a secret mission of great +importance.</p> + +<p>To know something that other people do not know is to be in some way +their superior. It is a popular fallacy to believe that we all of us are +gifted with special insight. The dullest bore believes it of himself, +but when it comes to the possession of an absolute fact superiority +becomes unmistakable, particularly in circumscribed localities, and Leh +Shin's assistant remembered how the sudden dumbness of the crazy Burman +had irked his own soul. He told a little of what he professed to know, +and having done so, refused to admit more, and so it was current in the +Bazaar that the friend of the rich Punjabi was gone to receive money +paid for jewels, and that the place of his destination was known only to +Leh Shin's assistant, who, having sworn on oath, would by no means +divulge the name of the place.</p> + +<p>Even Leh Shin, who awoke late, appeared interested, and asked questions +that made the gross, flabby boy think hard before he replied; and the +mystery that attached itself to the departure of the Burman lent an +added interest to Shiraz, who returned after the usual hour of prayer at +the Mosque, and paced slowly up the street, meditating upon a verse from +the Koran. The evening light softened and the shadows grew long, making +the Colonnade dark a full hour before the street outside was wrapped in +the smoky gloom of twilight and the charcoal fires were lighted to cook +the evening meal, and by the time that the first clear globes of +electric light dotted Paradise Street Coryndon was back in his room and +dressed ready to go out to dinner.</p> + +<p>Hartley received the wanderer with enthusiasm, and began at once by +telling him that he had an invitation for him which was growing stale by +long keeping. Mrs. Wilder was giving a very small party and both the +Head of the Police and his friend were invited.</p> + +<p>"I accepted definitely for myself, and conditionally for you," said +Hartley cheerfully. "Now I will ring up Wilder and tell him that the +prodigal has reappeared, and that you will come."</p> + +<p>Coryndon submitted to the inevitable with a good grace; it was one of +his best social qualifications, and arose from a keen sensitiveness that +made it nearly impossible for him ever to disappoint anyone. He had +hoped for a quiet evening, when he might expect to get to bed early and +have time to think over every tiny detail of his time in the Mangadone +Bazaar; but as this was not possible, he agreed with sufficient alacrity +to deceive his kind host.</p> + +<p>His face was drawn and tired, and his eyes were heavy; he noticed this +as he glanced into his glass, but after all it did not matter. His +social importance was small, and for to-night he was nothing more than +an adjunct of Hartley, a mere postscript put in out of formal +politeness. He was not going in order to please Mrs. Wilder—though, as +she appeared on his mental list of names, she had her place in the +structure that filled his mind—but to please Hartley. Any time would +have done for Mrs. Wilder, she was but a cypher in the total, but if he +had begged off to-night he would have had to hurt Hartley. Coryndon +could never get away from the other man's point of view; it dogged him +in great things and in small, and he was obliged to realize Hartley's +pleasure in seeing him, and his further pleasure in carrying him off to +a house where he himself enjoyed life thoroughly. Coryndon could as +easily have disappointed a child, or been cruel to a small, wagging +puppy as to Hartley in his present mood.</p> + +<p>He knew that he would have to shut the door upon his dominating thought, +unless something occurred to open it during the evening. Women liked to +play with fire, and he wondered if Mrs. Wilder would show any +inclination to fiddle with gunpowder, but he hardly expected that she +would, though she had played some part in the extensive drama that +reached from Heath's bungalow to the Colonnade in the Chinese quarter, +leaving a gap between that his brain struggled with in vain.</p> + +<p>It was like the imaginable space between life and death, where both +conditions existed, and one was the key to the other. Something was +lacking. One small master touch wanting to lay the whole thing bare of +mystery. Coryndon's weary eyes reflected the state of his mind. He felt +like an inventor who is baffled for the lack of a tiny clue that makes +the impossible natural and easy, or a composer who hears a refrain and +cannot call it into birth in clear defiant chords. To think too much +when thought cannot carry the mind over the limiting barrier is to spend +substance on fruitless effort, and Coryndon deliberately shut the door +of his mind and put the key away before he started out with Hartley.</p> + +<p>The night was clear as the two men went off together hatless through the +soft moonlight. Neither Coryndon nor Hartley talked much as they walked +by a short cut across the park to the Wilders' bungalow, a servant +carrying a lantern going before them like a dim will-o'-the-wisp; the +yellow lamplight paling into an ineffectual blur against the clear +moonlight.</p> + +<p>"I think it is only ourselves," said Hartley after a long pause. "You +are looking a bit done, Coryndon, so you'll be glad if it isn't a late +night."</p> + +<p>Coryndon agreed, and conversation flagged again. They crossed the road, +turned up the avenue and were lost in the shadows of the trees, coming +out again into a white bay of light outside the door.</p> + +<p>Everyone, man or woman, who is endowed at birth with a sensitive nature +is subject to occasional inrushes of detachment that without warning cut +him off from realities for moments or hours, converting everyday matters +into the consistency of dream-life. It was through this medium that +Coryndon saw Mrs. Wilder when he came into the large upstairs +drawing-room. It would have annoyed her to know that she appeared +indefinite and shadowy to his mind, just as it annoyed Alice when she +was told that she was only "Something in the Red King's dream," but +Coryndon could not help his sensations. Mrs. Wilder was smiling with her +careless, easy, confident smile, and yet he saw only an unaccounted bit +of the puzzle, that he could not fit in. She was dressed in the latest +fashion, and talked with a kind of regal amiability, but nevertheless, +she was not a real woman, a real hostess, or a positive entity; she was +vague, and the touch of her floating personality added to the baffled +sensation that drained Coryndon's mind of concentrated force, and made +him physically exhausted.</p> + +<p>Wilder had something to say to Hartley, and Coryndon handed himself over +like a coat or an umbrella to Mrs. Wilder, who, he knew, was placing a +low valuation upon him, and was already a little impatient at his lack +of vitality. She was calling him a bore, behind her fine, hard eyes, and +having exhausted Mangadone in a few sentences, wondered what sort of +bore he really was. There were golf bores, fishing bores, and shooting +bores, but Coryndon hardly appeared to belong to any of those families, +and she began to suspect him of "superiority," a type of bore aggressive +to others of his cult. Mrs. Wilder did not tolerate a type to which she +herself undoubtedly owned to some slight connection, and she gave up all +effort to awaken interest in the slim, weary young man, who looked +half-asleep.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Heath ought to be here directly," she said, in her loud, clear +voice. "Draycott, don't forget to ask him to say grace."</p> + +<p>If she had got up and taken Coryndon by the shoulders and shaken him, +the effect could not have been more marked and sudden. All the dull +feeling of detachment cleared off at once, and he knew that his senses +were sharp and acute; his bodily fatigue fell away, and as he moved in +his chair his eyes turned towards the door.</p> + +<p>"I wish he would hurry," growled Wilder, a prey to the pessimism of the +half-hour before dinner. "He is inexcusably late as it is."</p> + +<p>As though his words had summoned the Rev. Francis Heath, footsteps +mounting the staircase followed Wilder's remark, and the clergyman came +into the room. Immediately upon his coming, conversation became general, +and a few moments later the party was seated round a small table kept +for intimate gatherings, and placed in the centre of the large +teak-panelled room. An arrangement of plumbago and maidenhair, and pale +blue shaded candles casting a dim light, carried out the saxe blue +effect that Mrs. Wilder had evolved with the assistance of a ladies' +paper that dealt with "effective and original table decoration."</p> + +<p>In spite of Mrs. Wilder's efforts, assisted as they were by Hartley, +conversation flagged for the first two courses. Heath was not exactly +awkward, but he was conscious of the fact that he and Hartley had had an +unpleasant interview, buried by the passing of a few weeks, but by no +means peaceful in its grave. There was just a suggestion of strain in +his manner, and he was evidently carrying through a duty in being there +at all, rather than out for pleasant society.</p> + +<p>Coryndon observed him carefully, particularly when he talked to his +hostess. If she was helping to screen him, the clergyman was too honest +not to show some sign of gratitude either in his manner or in his +deep-set eyes, and yet no such indication was evident. Coryndon +disassociated his mind from the history of the case, and saw austerity +flavoured with a near approach to disapproval. Judging by externals, the +Rev. Francis Heath held no very exalted opinion of his hostess.</p> + +<p>"She has done nothing for him," he said to himself. "If obligation +exists, it is the other way round," and he proceeded to watch Mrs. +Wilder's manner towards her clerical guest with heightening interest.</p> + +<p>Usually she was very sure of herself, more especially so in her own +house, and surrounded with the evidences of her husband's official rank. +When Mrs. Wilder talked to the poor, insignificant Padré who could be of +no real social assistance to her, she changed her manner, the manner +that she directed pointedly towards Coryndon, and became quelled and +softened.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder, propitiatory and diffident, was, Coryndon felt, Mrs. Wilder +caught out somehow and somewhere; perhaps on the night of the 29th of +July, and as he considered it, Coryndon knew that the shoe was on a much +smaller foot than Hartley had measured for it, and that the secret +understanding between Heath and Mrs. Wilder was one-sided in its +benefits.</p> + +<p>Hartley had recounted the story of the fainting fit as a landmark by +which he remembered where he was himself, and, adding this fact to what +he observed, Coryndon put Mrs. Wilder on one side and mentally drew a +red-ink line under her total. He knew all he needed to know about her, +and she had no further interest for his mind. He talked to her husband +when once he had satisfied himself definitely, and as dinner wore on the +atmosphere became more genial and less strained than when it had begun.</p> + +<p>"By the way," said Wilder carelessly, "was it ever discovered how that +fellow Rydal got clear of the country?"</p> + +<p>He spoke to Hartley, but Heath, who had been talking across the table to +Coryndon, lost his place, stumbled and recovered himself with +difficulty, and then lapsed into silence. Hartley had a few things to +say about Rydal, but chief among them was the astounding fact that he +had dodged the police, who were watching the wharves and jetties, and, +so far as he knew, the man had never left Mangadone.</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose that he got away disguised?"</p> + +<p>"Impossible," said Hartley, with decision. "He was a big, fair +Englishman with blue eyes. Nothing on earth could have made him look +anything else. It was too risky to attempt that game."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder was not interested in Rydal, and she sprayed Coryndon with +light, pointless conversation, leaving Heath to his meditations for the +moment. Hartley would have enjoyed a private talk with his hostess +because he loved her platonically, and because it was impossible he was +distrait and jerky, trying to appear cordial towards Heath. It was one +of those evenings that make everyone concerned wonder why they ever +began it, and though Coryndon was of all the invited guests the one who +found least favour in the eyes of his hostess, he was the only one who +felt glad that he had come, and was perfectly convinced that it had been +worth it.</p> + +<p>The Rev. Francis Heath rose early to take his leave; and there was a +distinct impression of relief when he had gone.</p> + +<p>"That Padré is like wet blotting-paper," said Wilder, when he came back +into the drawing-room. "No more duty invitations, Clarice, or else wait +until I am out in camp."</p> + +<p>"He is a bore," said Mrs. Wilder, throwing her late guest to the sharks +without remorse. "But I suppose he can't help it. He may have something +to worry him." She just indicated her point with a glance at Hartley, +who murmured incoherently and became interested in his drink.</p> + +<p>"Parsons are all alike," said Wilder, who fully believed that he stated +an obvious fact. "I feel as if I ought to apologize for not going to +church whenever I meet one."</p> + +<p>"He <i>is</i> a bore," repeated Mrs. Wilder. "But he is finished with for the +present."</p> + +<p>Coryndon looked up.</p> + +<p>"I suppose one is inclined to mix up a man with his profession, as +people often mix up nationalities with races, forgetting that they are +absolutely apart. Heath is not my idea of a clergyman."</p> + +<p>"And what is your idea?" asked Mrs. Wilder, with a smile that was +slightly encouraging.</p> + +<p>"A man with less temperament," said Coryndon slowly. "Heath lacks a +certain commonplace courage, because he feels things too much. He is not +altogether honest with himself or his congregation, because he has the +protective instinct over-developed. If I had a secret I should feel that +it was perfectly safe with Heath."</p> + +<p>A slow red stain showed itself on Mrs. Wilder's cheek, and she gave a +hard, mechanical laugh.</p> + +<p>"Are these the deductions of one evening? No wonder you are a silent +man, Mr. Coryndon."</p> + +<p>If Coryndon had been a cross-examining counsel instead of a guest at a +dinner-party, he would have thanked Mrs. Wilder politely and told her +that she might "step down." As it was, he assured her that he was only +attracted by certain personalities, and that, usually speaking, he did +not analyse his impressions.</p> + +<p>"He is a bore," said Mrs. Wilder, making the statement for the third +time that evening, and thus disposing of Heath definitely.</p> + +<p>"It wasn't up to the usual mark," said Hartley, half-apologetically as +he and Coryndon walked home together. "I felt so awkward about meeting +Heath." He paused and looked at Coryndon, longing to put a question to +him, but not wishing to break their agreement as to silence.</p> + +<p>"Tell me about Rydal," said Coryndon in the voice of a man who shifts a +conversation adroitly. "I don't remember your having mentioned the +case."</p> + +<p>Hartley had not much to tell. The man had been in a position of +responsibility in the Mangadone Bank, and Joicey had given information +against him the very day he absconded. Rydal was married, and the cruel +part of the story lay in the fact that he had deserted his wife on her +deathbed, fully aware that she was dying.</p> + +<p>"She died the evening he left, or was supposed to have left. At all +events, the evening he disappeared."</p> + +<p>"And the date?"</p> + +<p>Coryndon's eyes were turned on Hartley's face, and he heard him laugh.</p> + +<p>"You'll hardly believe it, but it happened, like everything else, on the +twenty-ninth of July."</p> + +<p>"Can your boy look after me for a few days?" Coryndon asked quietly. "I +was not able to bring my bearer with me, and I may have to be here for a +little longer than I had expected."</p> + +<p>"Of course he can."</p> + +<p>They walked into the bungalow together, and it surprised and distressed +Hartley to see how white and weary the face of his friend showed under +the hanging lamp.</p> + +<p>"I ought not to have dragged you out," he said remorsefully.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad you did."</p> + +<p>There was so much sincerity in Coryndon's tone that Hartley was +satisfied, and he saw him into his room before he went off, whistling to +his dog and calling out a cheery "Good night."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII" />XVIII</h2> + +<h3>THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH UNLOCKS HIS DOOR AND SHOWS WHAT LIES BEHIND</h3> + + +<p>When Coryndon made up his mind to any particular course of action and +time pressed, he left nothing to chance. Under ordinary circumstances, +he was perfectly ready to wait and let things happen naturally; and so +greatly did he adhere to this belief in chance that he always hesitated +to make anything deliberately certain. Had he felt that he could allow +time to bring circumstance into his grasp, he would have preferred to do +so, but, as he sat on the side of his bed, his <i>chota haziri</i> untouched +on a table at his elbow, he knew that every minute counted, and that he +must come out of the shadow and deliberately face and force the +position.</p> + +<p>If he could always have worked in the dark he would have done so, and no +one ever guessed how unwillingly he disclosed himself. He was a shadow +in the great structure of criminal investigation, and he came and went +like a shadow. When it was possible he vanished out of his completed +case before his agency was detected, and as he sat thinking, he wondered +if Hartley could not be trusted with the task that lay before him that +day, but even as the thought came into his mind he decided against it. +Opportunity must be nailed like false coin to the counter, and there +could be no question of leaving a meeting to the last moment of chance. +He had to make sure of his man; that was the first step.</p> + +<p>During the course of an idle morning, Coryndon wandered to the church, +and saw that at 5.30 p.m. the Rev. Francis Heath was holding service. +After the service there would be a choir practice, and Coryndon, having +made a mental note of the hour, went back to luncheon with Hartley.</p> + +<p>The afternoon sunlight was dreaming in the garden, and the drowsy air +was full of the scent of flowers. Coryndon had something to do, and he +was wise enough to make no settled plan as to how he would do it, +beforehand. He put away all thought of Absalom and the other lives +connected with the disappearance of the Christian boy, and let his +thoughts drift out, drawing in the light and colour of the world +outside.</p> + +<p>Yesterday has power over to-day; to-morrow even greater power, for +to-morrow holds a gift or a whip, and Coryndon knew this, thinking out +his little philosophy of life. To be able to handle a situation which +may require a strength that is above tact or diplomacy, he knew that all +those yesterdays must give their store of gathered strength and +knowledge.</p> + +<p>As there was no running water to watch, Coryndon watched the shadows and +the light playing hide-and-go-seek through the leaves, through his +half-closed eyes. They made a pattern on the ground, and the pattern was +faultless in its beauty. Nature alone can do such things. He looked at +the far-off trees of the park, green now, to turn into soft blue masses +later on when the day waned, and the intrinsic value of blue as colour +flitted over his fancy. The music that was part of his nature rippled +and sang in obligato to his thoughts, and because he loved music he +loved colour and knew the connection between sound and tint. Colour, to +its lightest, least value, was music, expressing itself in another way.</p> + +<p>Hartley went out with his dog; went softly because he believed his +friend slept, and Coryndon did not stir. Somewhere in the centre of +things actual, Hartley lived his cheerful, happy life, dreaming when he +was lonely of the woman who darned his socks and smiled at him. In +Coryndon's life there was no woman either visionary or real, and he +wondered why he was exempt from these natural dreams of a man. He was +very humble about himself. He knew that he was only a tracker, a brain +that carried a body, not a healthy animal body that controlled the +greater part of a brain. He was given the power to grip motives and to +read hearts, and beyond that he only lived in his fingers when he +played. He had his dreams for company when he shut the door on the other +half of his active brain, and he had his own thrills of excitement and +intense joy when he found what he was seeking, but beyond this there was +nothing, and he asked for nothing. Blue shadows, and a drifting into +peace, that was the end. He pulled himself together abruptly, for it was +five o'clock, and time for him to start.</p> + +<p>When Coryndon had drunk some tea, he started out on foot to St. Jude's +Church. He knew that he would get there in time to find the Rev. Francis +Heath. The choir practice did not take very long, and as he walked into +the church they were singing the last verses of a hymn. Heath sat in one +of the choir pews, a sombre figure in his black cassock, listening +attentively.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Happy birds that sing and fly<br /></span> +<span>Round Thy altars, O Most High."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The choir sang the "Amen," and sang it false, because they were in a +hurry to troop out of the church; the girls were whispering and +collecting gloves and books, and the boys were already clattering off +with an air of relief. Heath spoke to the organist, making some +suggestion in his grave, quiet voice, and when he turned, Coryndon was +standing in the chancel.</p> + +<p>"Can I speak to you for a moment?" he asked easily.</p> + +<p>"Come into the vestry," said Heath quietly. "We shall be undisturbed +there."</p> + +<p>He went down the chancel steps and opened a door at the side, waiting +for Coryndon to go in, and closing the door behind them. A table stood +in the middle of the room with a few books and papers on it, and a +square window lighted it from the western wall; there were only two +chairs in the room, and Heath put one of them near the table for his +visitor, and took the other himself.</p> + +<p>He did not know what he expected Coryndon to say; men very rarely came +to him like this, but he felt that it was possible that he was in +search of something true and definite. Truth was in his eyes, and his +dark, fine face was earnest as he bent forward and looked full at the +clergyman.</p> + +<p>"What can I do for you?"</p> + +<p>Heath put the question tentatively, conscious of a sudden quick tension +in the atmosphere.</p> + +<p>Coryndon's eyes fixed on him, like gripping hands, and he leaned a +little over the table.</p> + +<p>"You can tell me how and when you got Rydal out of the country."</p> + +<p>For a moment, it seemed to Heath that the whole room rocked, and that +blackness descended upon him in waves, blotting out the face of the man +who asked the question, destroying his identity, and leaving him only +the knowledge that the secret that he had guarded with all the strength +of his soul was known, inexplicably, to Hartley's friend. He tried to +frame a reply, but his words faltered through dry lips, and his face was +white and set.</p> + +<p>"Why should you say that I helped Rydal?"</p> + +<p>"Because," Coryndon's answer came quickly, "you told me so yourself last +night at dinner."</p> + +<p>He heard Coryndon speak again, very slowly, so that every word came +clear into the confusion of his throbbing brain.</p> + +<p>"I knew from Hartley that you were in Paradise Street on the evening of +the twenty-ninth of July, and that you saw and spoke to Absalom. I am +concerned in the case of finding that boy or his murderer, and anything +you can tell me may be of help to me in putting my facts together. I had +to come to your confidence by a direct question. Will you pardon me +when you consider my motive? I am not concerned with Rydal: my case is +with Absalom."</p> + +<p>He looked sympathetically at the worn, drawn face across the table, that +was white and sick with recent fear.</p> + +<p>"Tell me the events just as they came," he said gently. "You may be able +to cast light on the matter."</p> + +<p>Heath looked up, and his eyes expressed his silent acceptance of +Coryndon's honesty of purpose.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you, Mr. Coryndon. God knows that the case of this boy has +haunted me night and day. He was my best pupil, and when Hartley accused +me by inference, of complicity, I suffered as I believe few men have had +to suffer because I could not speak. I may not be able to assist you +very far, but all I know you shall know if you will listen to me +patiently."</p> + +<p>Heath relapsed into silence for some little time, and when he spoke +again it was with the manner of a man who gives all his facts +accurately. He omitted no detail and he set the story of Rydal before +Coryndon, plainly and clearly.</p> + +<p>Rydal had been a clerk in the Mangadone Bank, and had been in the place +for some years before he went home and returned with a wife. He was an +honest and kindly young fellow and he worked hard. There was no flaw in +his record, and Heath believed that he was under the influence of a very +genuine religious feeling. He frequently came to see Heath, who knew his +character thoroughly, and knew that he was weak in many respects. He +talked enthusiastically of the girl he was going to marry, and Heath saw +him off on the liner when Rydal got his leave and, full of glad +anticipation, went away to bring out his wife.</p> + +<p>When the clergyman had reached this point in his story, he got up and +paced the floor a couple of times, his monkish face sad and troubled, +and his eyes full of the tragic revelations that had yet to be made.</p> + +<p>Coryndon did not hurry the narrative. He was engaged in calling up the +mental presentment of the young happy man. Heath had described him as +"fresh-looking," and had said that his manner was frank and always +kindly; he was friendly to weakness, kindly to weakness, his virtues all +tagged off into inefficient lack of grip; but he was honest and he found +life good. That was how Rydal had started, that was the Rydal who had +gripped Heath's hand as he stood on the deck of the <i>Worcestershire</i> and +thought of the girl whom he was going home to marry.</p> + +<p>"I still see him as I saw him then," said Heath, with a catch in his +voice. "He was so sure of all the good things of life, and he had +managed to save enough to furnish the bungalow by the river. I had gone +over it with him the day before he sailed, and his pride in it all was +very touching."</p> + +<p>Coryndon nodded his head, and Heath took up the story again, standing +with his hands on the back of the chair.</p> + +<p>"Rydal came back at the end of three months, his wife with him. She was +a pretty, silly creature, and her ideas of her social importance were +out of all keeping with Rydal's humble position in the Bank. She dressed +herself extravagantly, and began to entertain on a scale that was +ridiculous considering their poverty. Before their marriage, Rydal had +told me that it was a love match, and that she was as poor as he, as all +her own people could do for her was to make a small allowance sufficient +for her clothes."</p> + +<p>Coryndon sat very still. Heath had come to the point where the real +interest began: he could see this on the sad face that turned towards +the western window.</p> + +<p>"In the early hours of one morning towards the end of July," went on +Heath wearily, "I was awakened by Rydal coming into my room. I could see +at once that he was in desperate trouble, and he sat down near me and +hid his face in his hands and cried like a child. There was enough in +his story to account for his tears, God knows. His wife was ill, perhaps +dying; he told me that first, but that I already knew, and then he made +his confession to me. He had embezzled money from the bank and it could +only be a matter of hours before a warrant was issued for his arrest. I +must not dwell too long on these details, but they are all part of the +story, and without them you could not understand my own place in what +follows. It is sufficient to tell you that I returned at once with him, +and his wife added her appeal to mine to make her husband agree to leave +the country. If she lived, she could join him later, but if he was +arrested before she died, she could only feel double torment and +remorse. In the end we prevailed upon him to agree to go. The sin was +not his morally"—Heath's voice rose in passionate vindication of his +act—"in my eyes, and, I believe, in the eyes of God, the man was not +responsible. I grant you his criminal weakness, I grant you his fall +from honour and honesty, but then and now I know that I did right. The +one chance for his soul's welfare was the chance of escape. Prison would +have broken and destroyed him. A white man among native criminals. His +life had been a good life, and an open, honest life up to the time that +his wife's constant demand for what he could not give broke down the +barriers and made him a felon."</p> + +<p>He wiped his face with his handkerchief and drew a deep breath. This was +how he had argued the point with himself, and he still held to the +validity of his argument.</p> + +<p>"That was early on the morning of July the twenty-ninth?" asked +Coryndon.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that was the date. There was a small tramp in port, going to South +America. I had once been of some little assistance to the captain, and I +knew that he would do much to serve me. I went on board her at once, and +saw him, disguising none of the facts or the risk it entailed, and he +agreed willingly to assist Rydal. He was to be at a certain point below +the wharves that evening, and the <i>Lady Helen</i> was to send a boat in to +pick him up."</p> + +<p>"I understand," said Coryndon, "the warrant was issued about noon the +same day?"</p> + +<p>"As far as I know, Joicey gave information against him just about then, +but he had already left the bungalow. I went down Paradise Street to +make my way out along the river bank at a little after six o'clock. I +passed Absalom in the street and spoke a word to the boy, but time was +pressing and I did not dare to be late. It was of the utmost importance +that there should be no hitch in any part of the plan, for the <i>Lady +Helen</i> could not delay over an hour. I got to the appointed place by the +river just after twilight had come on—"</p> + +<p>"Were you seen by anyone?"</p> + +<p>Heath paused and thought for a moment.</p> + +<p>"I would like to deal entirely candidly with you, Mr. Coryndon, but, +with your permission, I must avoid any mention of names. As it happened, +I <i>was</i> seen, but I believe that the person who saw me has no connection +with either my own place in this story or the story itself so far as it +affects Absalom. I saw Rydal go. He went in silence, an utterly +broken-hearted and ruined man, and only ten months divided that day from +the day that he stood on the deck of the <i>Worcestershire</i> filled with +every hope the heart of a man knows. Behind him, his wife lying near +death in the little house his love had provided for her, and nothing lay +before him but utter desolation. I watched the boat take him away into +the darkness, and I saw the lights of the <i>Lady Helen</i> quite clearly, +and then I saw her move slowly off, and I knew that Rydal was safe."</p> + +<p>He paused and stared into the darkness of the room, seeing the whole +picture again, and feeling the awful misery of the broken man who had +gone by the way of transgressors. The man who had once been +light-hearted and happy, who had sung in his choir, and who had read the +lessons for the Rev. Francis Heath and helped him with his boys.</p> + +<p>Coryndon's face showed his tense, close interest as the clergyman spoke +again.</p> + +<p>"I was standing there for some time, how long I do not know, when I saw +that I was not alone, and that I was being watched by a Chinaman. I knew +the boy by sight, and must have seen him before somewhere else. He was a +large, repulsive creature, and appeared to have come from one of the +houses near the river, where there are Coringyhis and low-caste natives +of India. At the time I remarked nothing, but when the boy saw that he +had attracted my attention, he started into a run, and left me without +speaking. The incident was so trifling that it hardly made me uneasy. No +one had seen me actually with Rydal—"</p> + +<p>"You are quite clear on that point? Not even the other person you +alluded to?"</p> + +<p>"I can be perfectly clear. I passed the other person going in the +opposite direction, before I joined Rydal. On the way back I saw Absalom +again, and he was with the Chinaman whom I already mentioned; they did +not notice me, and they were talking eagerly; my mind was overful of +other things, and you will understand that I did not think of them then, +but, as far as I remember, they went towards the fishermen's quarter on +the river bank. I cannot be sure of this."</p> + +<p>Coryndon did not stir; the gloom was deep now, and yet neither of the +men thought of calling for lights.</p> + +<p>"And the Chinaman?"</p> + +<p>Heath flung out his arms with a violent gesture.</p> + +<p>"He had seen and recognized Rydal, and he had the craftiness to realize +that his knowledge was of value. Next day everyone in Mangadone knew +that the hue and cry was out after the absconded clerk. He had betrayed +his trust, cheated and defrauded his employers, and left his wife to die +alone, for she died that night, and I was with her. That was the story +in Mangadone. It was known in the Bazaar, and how or when it came to the +ears of the Chinaman I cannot tell you, but out of his knowledge he came +to me, and I paid him to keep silence. He has come several times of +late, and I will give him no more money. Rydal is safe. I have heard +from him, and the law will hardly catch him now. I know my complicity, I +know my own danger, but I have never regretted it." Again the surging +flood of passion swept into Heath's voice. "What is my life or my +reputation set against the value of one living soul? Rydal is working +honestly, his penitence is no mere matter of protestation, his whole +nature has been strengthened by the awful experience he has passed +through. How it may appear to others I cannot say, and do not greatly +care. In the eyes of God I am vindicated, and stand clear of blame."</p> + +<p>He towered gaunt against the light from the window behind him, and +though Coryndon could not see his face, he knew that it was lighted with +a great rapture of self-denial and spiritual glory.</p> + +<p>"You need fear no further trouble from the boy," he said, rising to his +feet. "I can tell you that definitely. I am neither a judge nor a +bishop, Mr. Heath, but I can tell you honestly from my heart that I +think you were justified."</p> + +<p>He went out into the darkness that had come black over the evening +during the hour he had sat with Heath, and as he walked back to the +bungalow he thought of the man he had just left. There had been no need +for Coryndon to question him about Mrs. Wilder: her secret mission to +the river interested him no further. Heath had protected her and had +kept silence where her name was concerned, and yet she chose to belittle +him in her idle, insolent fashion.</p> + +<p>He thought of Heath sitting by the bed of the dying woman, and he +thought of him following the wake of the <i>Lady Helen</i> down the dark +river with sad, sorrowful eyes, and through the thought there came a +strange thrill to his own soul, because he touched the hem of the +garment of the Everlasting Mercy, hidden away, pushed out of life, and +forgotten in garrulous hours full of idle chatter.</p> + +<p>Yet Mrs. Wilder had announced with her regal finality no less than three +times in the hearing of Coryndon the previous evening that the Rev. +Francis Heath was "a bore."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX" />XIX</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH LEH SHIN WHISPERS A STORY INTO THE EAR OF SHIRAZ, THE PUNJABI; +THE BURDEN OF WHICH IS: "HAVE I FOUND THEE, O MINE ENEMY?"</h3> + + +<p>A man with a grievance, however silent he may be by nature, is, +generally speaking, voluble upon the subject of his wrongs, real or +imaginary; but a man with a grudge is intrinsically different. An old +grudge or an old hate are silent things, because they have deep roots +and do not require attention, and it is only in flashes of sudden +feeling, or when the means to the end is in view, that the man with a +grudge reveals details and tells his story. Shiraz paid several visits +to, and spent some time in the shop of, Leh Shin before he arrived at +what he wanted to know.</p> + +<p>He went also to Mhtoon Pah's shop, but came away without discovering +anything. Into the ears of Hartley, Head of the Police, the Burman raged +and screamed his passionate hate, because he believed it promoted his +object; but to the Punjabi he was smooth and complaisant, and refused to +be drawn into any admission. Leh Shin, the Chinaman, was Bazaar dust to +his dignity, and he knew naught of him, save only that the man had an +evil name earned by evil deeds, and Shiraz, who was as crafty as Mhtoon +Pah, saw that he had come to a "no thoroughfare" and turned his wits +towards Leh Shin.</p> + +<p>Little by little, and without any apparent motive, he worked the +Chinaman up to the point where silence is agony, and at last, as a river +in flood crashes over the mud-banks, the whole tale of his wrongs came +bursting through his closed mouth, and with the sweat pouring down his +yellow face he out it into words.</p> + +<p>The meanest story receives something vital in its constitution when it +is told with all the force and conviction of years of hatred behind the +simple fact of expression, and the story that Leh Shin recounted to +Shiraz was a mean story. The Chinaman had the true Eastern capacity for +remembering the least item in the long account that lay unsettled +between himself and the Burman. His memory was a safe in which the +smallest fact connected with it was kept intact and his mind traversed +an interminable road of detail.</p> + +<p>The two men had begun life as friends. The friendship between them dated +back to the days when Leh Shin and Mhtoon Pah were small boys running +together in the streets of Mangadone, and no antipathy that is a first +instinct has ever the depth of root given to the bitterness that can +spring from a breach in long friendship, and Leh Shin and Mhtoon Pah +hated as only old friends ever do hate.</p> + +<p>Leh Shin started in life with all the advantages that Mhtoon Pah lacked, +and he appreciated the slavish friendship of the Burman, which grew with +years. Mhtoon Pah became a clerk on scanty pay in the employ of a rice +firm, and Leh Shin, at his father's death, became sole owner of the +house in Paradise Street; no insignificant heritage, as it was stocked +with a store of things that increased in value with age, and in the +guise of his greatest friend Mhtoon Pah was made welcome at the shop +whenever he had time to go there. From his clerkship in the firm of rice +merchants Mhtoon Pah, at the insistence of his friend, became part +partner in the increasing destiny of the curio shop. He travelled for +Leh Shin, and brought back wares and stores in days when railways were +only just beginning to be heard of, and it was difficult and even +dangerous to bring goods across the Shan frontier. He had the control of +a credit trust, though not of actual money, and for a time the +partnership prospered. Mhtoon Pah was always conscious that he was a +subordinate depending on the good will of his principal, and even as he +ate with cunning into the heart of the fruit, the outside skin showed no +trace of his ravages. Leh Shin's belief in his friend's integrity made +him careless in the matter of looking into things for himself, and +lulled into false security, he dreamed that he prospered; his dream +being solidified by the accounts which he received from the Burman. In +the zenith of his affluence he married the daughter of a Burman into +whose house Mhtoon Pah had introduced him, and it was only after the +wedding festivities that he became aware that he had supplanted the +friend of his bosom in the affections of the smiling Burmese girl. +Mhtoon Pah was away on a journey, and on his return rejoiced in the +subtle, flattering manner that he knew so well how to practise, and if +he felt rancour, he hid it under a smile.</p> + +<p>Marriage took the Chinaman's attention from the shop, and Mhtoon Pah, +still a subordinate in the presence of his master, was arrogant and +filled with assurance in his dealings with others. Interested friends +warned the Chinaman, but he would not listen to them. He believed in +Mhtoon Pah and he had covered him with gifts.</p> + +<p>"Was he not my friend, this monster of infamy?" he wailed, rocking +himself on his bed. "O that I had seen his false heart, and torn it, +smoking, from his ribs!"</p> + +<p>Leh Shin was secure in his summer of prosperity, and when his son was +born he felt that there was no good thing left out of the pleasant ways +of life. In the curio shop in Paradise Street Mhtoon Pah waxed fat and +studied the table of returns, and in the garden of the house where Leh +Shin lived in his fool's paradise, the Chinaman loosed his hold upon the +reins of authority.</p> + +<p>The first sign of the altered and averted faces of the gods was made +known to Leh Shin when his wife dwindled and pined and died.</p> + +<p>"But that, O friend, was not the work of thine enemy," said Shiraz, +pulling at his beard reflectively. "Even in thine anger, seek to follow +the ways of justice."</p> + +<p>"How do I know it?" replied Leh Shin. "He ever held an evil wish towards +me. Her death was slow, like unto the approach of disaster. I know not +whence it came, but my heart informs me that Mhtoon Pah designed it."</p> + +<p>Quickly upon the death of his wife came the disappearance of his son. +The boy had been playing in the garden, and the garden had been searched +in vain for him. No trace of the child could be found, though Mangadone +was searched from end to end.</p> + +<p>"Searched," cried the Chinaman, "as the pocket of a coat. No corner left +that was not peered into, no house that was not ransacked." The +Chinaman's voice quivered with passion, and his whole body shook and +trembled.</p> + +<p>Life flowed back into its accustomed current, and nearly a year passed +before the next trouble came upon Leh Shin. Mhtoon Pah came back from a +prolonged journey that had necessitated his going to Hong-Kong, and he +came back with dismay in his face and a story of loss upon loss. He had +compromised his master's credit to a heavy extent, and not only the +gains he had made but the principal was swept away into an awful chasm +where the grasping hands of creditors grabbed the whole of Leh Shin's +patrimony, claiming it under papers signed by his hand.</p> + +<p>"It was then that light flowed in upon my darkness, and I saw the long +prepared evil that was the work of one man's hand." Leh Shin rose upon +his string bed and his voice was thin with rabid anger. "I caught him by +the throat and would have stabbed him with my knife, but he, being a +younger man than I, threw me off from him, and, when he made me answer, +I saw my foe of many years stand to render his account to me. '<i>Thou</i>, +to call me thief,' said he, 'who robbed me of my wife and cheated me of +my son.'"</p> + +<p>After that, poverty and ruin drove him slowly from his house outside +Mangadone to the shelter of the shop in Paradise Street, and from there, +at length, to the burrow in the Colonnade. The bitterness of his own +fall was great enough in itself to harden the heart of any man, but it +was doubled by the story of the years that followed. Slowly, and without +calling too evident attention to himself, Mhtoon Pah began to prosper. +He opened a booth first, where he sat and cursed Leh Shin whenever he +passed, saying loudly that he had ruined him and swindled him out of all +his little store, that by hard work and attention to business he had +collected.</p> + +<p>From the booth, just as Leh Shin left Paradise Street, Mhtoon Pah +progressed to a small unpretentious shop, and a year later he moved +again, as though inspired by a spirit of malice, into the very premises +where Leh Shin had first employed him as a clerk. That day Leh Shin went +to his Joss and swore vengeance, though how his vengeance could be +worked into fact was more than his opium-muddled brain could conceive. +Vengeance was his dream by night, his one concentrated thought by day, +and he came no nearer to any hope of fulfilling it. Mhtoon Pah, wealthy +and respected; Mhtoon Pah, the builder of shrines; Mhtoon Pah, who spoke +with high Sahibs and had the ear of the Head of the Police himself, and +Leh Shin clad in ragged clothes, and only able to keep his hungry soul +in his body by means of his opium traffic, how could he strike at his +foe's prosperity? His hate glared out of his eyes as he panted, stopping +to draw breath at the end of his account.</p> + +<p>Had Shiraz known the legend of the wise wolf who changed from man to +beast, he might have supposed that some such change was taking place in +Leh Shin. His trembling lips dribbled, his head jerked as though +supported by wires, and his eyebrows twitched violently as though he had +no control over their movements. He had forgotten Shiraz and was +thinking only of the tribulation he had suffered and of the man whose +gross form inhabited his whole mental world. Shaking like a leaf, he got +off his bed and stood on the earth floor.</p> + +<p>"May he be eaten by mud-sores," he said savagely. "May he die by his own +hand, and so, as is the Teaching, be shut out of peace, and return to +earth as a scorpion, to be crushed again into lesser life by a stone."</p> + +<p>"By the will of Allah, who alone is great, there will be an end of thy +troubles," said Shiraz non-committally as he got up. "Thou hast suffered +much. Be it requited to thee as thou wouldst have it fall in the hour +that is already written; for no man may escape his destiny, though he be +fleet of foot as the antlered stag."</p> + +<p>"Son of a Prophet, thy words are full of wisdom."</p> + +<p>"Let it comfort thine affliction," said Shiraz, with the air of a man +making a gift.</p> + +<p>"Yet I would hasten the end." He gave a strange, soundless laugh that +startled Shiraz, who looked at him sideways. "And mark this, O wise one, +mine enemy hath already felt the first lash of the whip fall, even the +whip that scourged my own body. He hath lost the boy whom he ever +praised in the streets, and suffered much grief thereby. May his grief +thrive and may it be added to until the weight is greater than he can +bear." He swung up his hand with a stabbing movement. "I would rip him +like a cushion of fine down. I would strike his face with my shoe as the +<i>Nats</i> that he dreads caught his screaming soul."</p> + +<p>"Peace, peace," said Shiraz. "Such words are ill for him who speaks, and +ill alike for him who listens. In such a day as already the end is +scored like a comet's tail across the sky, the end shall be, and not +before that day. Cease from thy clamour lest the street hear thee, and +run to know the cause."</p> + +<p>He took leave of his friend and went slowly away to his own house, +having achieved his master's mission, and feeling well satisfied with +his afternoon's work.</p> + +<p>Motive, the hidden spring of action, was made clear, and Shiraz knew +enough of his master's methods to realize that he had come upon a very +definite piece of evidence against Leh Shin, the Chinaman. From the +point of view of Shiraz the man was quite justified in killing Absalom, +since "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth," appeared fair and +reasonable to his mind. The Burman had overreached Leh Shin, and now Leh +Shin had begun the cycle again, and had smitten at the curio dealer +through the curio dealer's boy, for whom he appeared to have a +fanatical affection. According to Shiraz, the house in Paradise Street +stood a good chance of being burned to the ground. If this "accident" +happened, Shiraz would know exactly whose hand it was that lighted the +match. It was all part of an organized scheme, and though he did not +know how Coryndon would bring the facts home, fitting each man with his +share, like a second skin to his body, he felt satisfied that he had +provided the lump of clay for the skilled potter to mould into shape.</p> + +<p>He took off his turban, and lay down on his carpet. The day was still +hot, and the drowsy afternoon outside his closed windows blinked and +stared through the hours, the glare intensifying the shadows under the +trees and along the Colonnade. The soda-water and lemonade sellers in +their small booths drove a roaring trade as they packed the +aquamarine-green bottles in blocks of dirty ice to keep the frizzling +drink cool; and the cawing of marauding crows and the cackle of fowl +blended with the shouting of drivers and sellers of wares, who heeded +not the staring heat of the sun.</p> + +<p>After the emotion of telling his tale, Leh Shin slept in his own small +box of darkness, and, in the rich curio shop in Paradise Street, Mhtoon +Pah leaned on an embroidered pillow with closed eyes. The stream of life +flowed slowly and softly through the hours when only the poor have need +to work; soft as the current of a full tide that slides between wide +banks, and soft as sleep, or fate, or the destiny which no man can hope +to escape.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XX" id="XX" />XX</h2> + +<h3>CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, IS FACED BY A MAN WITH A WHIP IN HIS HAND, +AND CORYNDON FINDS A CLUE</h3> + + +<p>It is a matter of universal belief that a woman's most alluring quality +is her mystery, and Coryndon, no lover of women, was absorbed in the +study of mystery without a woman.</p> + +<p>He had eliminated the woman.</p> + +<p>In his mind he cast Mrs. Wilder upon one side, as March throws February +to the fag end of winter, and rushes on to meet the primrose girl +bringing spring in her wake. He had dealt simultaneously with Mrs. +Wilder's little part in the drama and the part of Francis Heath, Priest +in Holy Orders. How they had both stood the test of detection he did not +trouble to analyse. "Detection" is a nasty word, with a nasty sound in +it, and no one likes it well enough to brood over all it exactly means.</p> + +<p>Coryndon was sufficiently an observer of men and life to feel grateful +to Heath, because he had seen something for a short moment as he studied +the clergyman that dwells afterwards in the mind, like a stream of +moonlight lying over a tranquil sea. Hidden things, in his experience, +were seldom things of beauty, and yet he had come upon one fair place +in the whole puzzling and tangled story collected round the +disappearance of the Christian boy Absalom.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilder and Heath were both accounted for and deleted from the list +of names indelibly inscribed in his mental book; but one fact that was +sufficiently weighty had been added to what was still involved in doubt: +the fact that Heath had seen the boy in company with Leh Shin's +assistant.</p> + +<p>Coryndon was subject to the ordinary prejudices of any man who makes +human personality a study, and he was more than half disposed to go back +to the Bazaar and hear whatever evidence Shiraz had been able to collect +during his absence. Two reasons prevented his doing this. One was that +he would have to wait until it was dark enough to leave Hartley's +bungalow without being watched, and possibly followed, and the other +that there was still one name on the list that required attention, and +he began to feel that it required immediate attention. A toss of a coin +lay between which course he should adopt first, and he sat very still to +consider the thing carefully.</p> + +<p>In the service of which he was a member, he had learnt that much depends +upon getting facts in their chronological order, and that if there is +the least disunion in the fusing of events, deduction may hammer its +head eternally against a stone wall. He did not know positively that Leh +Shin had decoyed the boy away by means of his assistant, but he was +inclined to believe that such was the case. The blood-stained rag looked +like a piece of impudent bravado more than likely to have emanated from +the brain of the young Chinaman. His mental fingers opened to catch Leh +Shin and lay hold on him, but they unclosed again, and Coryndon felt +about him in the darkness that separates mind from mind. He knew the +pitfall that a too evident chain of circumstances digs for the unwary, +and he fell back from his own conviction, testing each link of the +chain, still uncertain and still doubtful of what course he should +pursue.</p> + +<p>He had another object in view, an object that entailed a troublesome +interview, and he turned his thoughts towards its possible issue. +Information might be at hand in the safe keeping of his servant Shiraz, +but he considered that he must argue his own conclusions apart from +anything Shiraz had discovered. Narrowing his eyes and sitting forward +on the edge of his bed, he thought out the whole progress of his scheme. +Coryndon was an essentially quiet man, but as he thought he struck his +hands together and came to a sudden decision.</p> + +<p>If life offers a few exciting moments, the man who refuses them is no +adventurer, and Coryndon saw a chance for personal skill and definite +action. He felt the call of excitement, the call that pits will against +will and subtlety against force, and that is irresistible to the man of +action. Probably it was just that human touch that decided him. One +course was easy; a mere matter of reassuming a disguise and slipping +back into the life of the people, which was as natural to him as his own +life. A tame ending, rounded off by hearing a story from Shiraz, and +laying the whole matter in the hands of Hartley. The proof against the +assistant was almost conclusive, and if Shiraz had burrowed into the +heart of the motive, it gave sufficient evidence to deliver over the +case almost entire to the man who added the last word to the whole drama +before the curtain fell.</p> + +<p>Coryndon knew the full value of working from point to point, but beside +this method he placed his own instinct, and his instinct pointed along a +different road, a road that might lead nowhere, and yet it called to him +as he sat on the side of his bed, as roads with indefinite endings have +called men since the beginning of time.</p> + +<p>Against his own trained judgment, he wavered and yielded, and at length +took his white <i>topi</i> from a peg on the wall and walked out slowly up +the garden. It was three in the afternoon. Just the hour when Shiraz was +lying on his mat asleep, and when Leh Shin slept, and Mhtoon Pah drowsed +against his cushion from Balsorah, each dreaming after his own fashion; +and it was an hour when white men were sure to be in their bungalows. +Hartley was lying in a chair in the veranda, and all through Mangadone +men rested from toil and relaxed their brains after the morning's work.</p> + +<p>Coryndon went out softly and slowly, and he walked under the hot burning +sun that stared down at Mangadone as though trying to stare it steadily +into flame. White, mosque-like houses ached in the heat, chalk-white +against the sky, and the flower-laden balconies, massed with +bougainvillæa, caught the stare and cracked wherever there was sap +enough left in the pillars and dry woodwork to respond to the fierce +heat of a break in the rains.</p> + +<p>It was a long, hot walk to the bungalow where Joicey lived, over the +Banking House itself, and the vast compound was arid and bare from three +days of scorching drought. Coryndon's feet sounded gritting on the red, +hard drive that led to the cool of the porch. No one called at such an +hour; it was unheard of in Mangadone, where the day from two to five was +sacred from interruption.</p> + +<p>A Chaprassie stopped him on the avenue, and a Bearer on the steps of the +house itself. There were subordinates awake and alive in the Bank, ready +to answer questions on any subject, but Coryndon held to his purpose. He +did not want to see any of the lesser satellites; his business was with +the Manager, and he said that he must see him, if the Manager was to be +seen, or even if he was not, as his business would not keep.</p> + +<p>A young man with a smooth, affable manner appeared from within, and said +he would give any message that Coryndon had to leave with his principal, +but Coryndon shook his head and politely declined to explain himself or +his business, beyond the fact that it was private and important. The +young man shook his head doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't happen to be a very good hour. We never disturb Mr. Joicey +in the afternoons."</p> + +<p>"May I send in my card?" asked Coryndon.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, if you wish to do so."</p> + +<p>Coryndon took a pencil out of his pocket, and, scribbling on the corner +of his card, enclosed it in an envelope, and waited in the dark hall, +where electric fans flew round like huge bats, the smooth-mannered young +man keeping him courteous company.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Joicey rests at this time of day," he explained. "I hope you quite +understand the difficulty."</p> + +<p>"I quite understand," replied Coryndon, "but I think he will see me."</p> + +<p>There was a pause. The young man did not wish to contradict him, but he +felt that he knew the ways and hours of the Head of the Firm very much +better than a mere stranger arriving on foot just as the Bank was due to +close for the day. He wondered who Coryndon was, and what his very +pressing business could possibly be, but even in his wildest flights of +fancy, and, with the thermometer at 112°, flights of fancy do not carry +far, he never even dimly guessed at anything the least degree connected +with the truth.</p> + +<p>The Bearer came down the wide scenic stairway and said that his master +would see Mr. Coryndon at once. The young man with the smooth manner +faded off into dark shadows with an accentuation of impersonal civility, +and Coryndon walked up the echoing staircase by the front of the hall, +down a corridor, down another flight of stairs, and into the private +suite of rooms sacred to the use of the head of the banking firm, and +used only in part by the celibate Joicey.</p> + +<p>Joicey was standing by a table, looking at Coryndon's card and twisting +it between his fingers. He recognized his visitor when he glanced at +him, and showed some surprise. The room was in twilight, as all the +outside chicks were down, and there was a lingering faint perfume of +something sweet and cloying in the air. Joicey looked sulky and +irritated, and he motioned Coryndon to a chair without seating himself.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said brusquely, "what's this about Rydal?" He pointed with a +blunt finger to the card that he had thrown on to the table.</p> + +<p>"That," said Coryndon, also indicating the card, "is merely a means +towards an end. I have the good fortune to find you not only in your +house, but able to receive me."</p> + +<p>The colour mounted to Joicey's heavy face, and his temper rose with it.</p> + +<p>"Then you mean to tell me—" He broke off and stared at Coryndon, and +gave a rough laugh. "You're Hartley's globe-trotting acquaintance, +aren't you? Well, Hartley happens to be a friend of mine, and it is just +as well for you that he is. Tell me your business, and I will overlook +your intrusion on his account."</p> + +<p>Something inside Coryndon's brain tightened like a string of a violin +tuned up to concert-pitch.</p> + +<p>"In one respect you are wrong," he said amiably, and without the +smallest show of heat. "I am, as you say, Hartley's friend, but I must +disown any connection with globe-trotting, as you call it. I am in the +Secret Service of the Indian Government."</p> + +<p>"Oh, are you?" Joicey tore up the card and threw it into a basket beside +the writing-table.</p> + +<p>"It may interest you to know," went on Coryndon easily, "that my visit +to you is not altogether prompted by idle curiosity." He smiled +reflectively. "No, I feel sure that you will not call it that."</p> + +<p>"Fire ahead, then," said Joicey, whose very evident resentment was by no +means abated. "Ask your question, if it is a question."</p> + +<p>"I am coming to that presently. Before I do I want you to understand, +Mr. Joicey, that, like you, I am a servant of the public, and I am at +present employed in gathering together evidence that throws any light +upon the doings of three people on the night of July the twenty-ninth."</p> + +<p>"Then you are wasting valuable time," said Joicey defiantly. "I was away +from Mangadone on that night."</p> + +<p>"I am quite aware that you told Hartley so."</p> + +<p>Coryndon's voice was perfectly even and level, but hot anger flamed up +in the bloodshot eyes of Craven Joicey.</p> + +<p>"I put it to you that you made a mistake," went on Coryndon, "and that +in the interests of justice you will now be able to tell me that you +remember where you were and what you were doing on that night."</p> + +<p>Joicey thrust his hands deep into his pockets, his heavy shoulders bent, +and his face dogged.</p> + +<p>"I am prepared to swear on oath that I was not in Mangadone on the night +of July the twenty-ninth."</p> + +<p>"Not in Mangadone, Mr. Joicey. Mangadone proper ends at the tram lines; +the district beyond is known as Bhononie."</p> + +<p>Coryndon could see that his shot told. There were yellow patches around +Joicey's eyes, and a purple shadow passed across his face, leaving it +leaden.</p> + +<p>"Unless I can complete my case by other means, you will be called as a +witness to prove certain facts in connection with the disappearance of +the boy Absalom on the night of July the twenty-ninth."</p> + +<p>"Who is going to call me?"</p> + +<p>The question was curt, and Joicey's defiance was still strong, but there +was a certain huskiness in his voice that betrayed a very definite fear.</p> + +<p>"Leh Shin, the Chinaman, will call you. His neck will be inside a noose, +Mr. Joicey, and he will need your evidence to save his life."</p> + +<p>"<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: The original text reads 'Lee'">Leh</ins> Shin? That man would swear anything. His word is +worthless against mine," said the Banker, raising his voice noisily. "If +that is another specimen of Secret Service bluff, it won't do. Won't do, +d'you hear?"</p> + +<p>Coryndon tapped his fingers on the writing-table.</p> + +<p>"I can't agree with you in your conclusion that it 'won't do.' Taken +alone his statement may be worthless, but taken in connection with the +fact that you are in the habit of visiting his opium den by the river, +it would be difficult to persuade any judge that he was lying. I myself +have seen you going in there and coming out."</p> + +<p>He watched Joicey stare at him with blind rage; he watched him stagger +and reach out groping hands for a chair, and he saw the huge defiance +evaporate, leaving Joicey a trembling mass of nerves.</p> + +<p>"It's a lie," he said, mumbling the words as though they were dry bread. +"It's a damned, infernal lie!"</p> + +<p>A long silence followed upon his words, and Joicey mopped his face with +his handkerchief, breathing hard through his nose, his hands shaking as +though he was caught by an ague fit.</p> + +<p>"I'm in a corner," he said at last; "you've got the whip-hand of me, +Coryndon, but when I said I was not in Mangadone that night, I was +speaking the truth."</p> + +<p>"You were splitting a hair," suggested Coryndon.</p> + +<p>Joicey drew his heavy eyebrows together in an angry frown.</p> + +<p>"Let that question rest," he said, conquering his desire to break loose +in a passion of rage.</p> + +<p>"You went down Paradise Street some time after sunset. Will you tell me +exactly whom you saw on your way to the river house?"</p> + +<p>Craven Joicey steadied his voice and thought carefully.</p> + +<p>"I passed Heath, the Parson, he was coming from the direction of the +lower wharves, and was going towards Rydal's bungalow. I remember that, +because Rydal was in, my mind at the time; I had heard that his wife was +ill, probably dying, and just after I saw Absalom."</p> + +<p>He paused for a moment and moistened his lips.</p> + +<p>"Was he with anyone when you saw him?"</p> + +<p>"No, he was alone, and he was carrying a parcel. Anyhow, that is all I +can tell you about him that night."</p> + +<p>Joicey looked up as though he considered that he had said enough.</p> + +<p>"And from there you went to the opium den," said Coryndon relentlessly.</p> + +<p>The perspiration dripped from Joicey's hair, and he took up the threads +of the story once more.</p> + +<p>"I went there," he said, biting the words savagely. "I was sick at the +time. I'd had a go of malaria and was as weak as a kitten. The place was +empty, and only Leh Shin was in the house, and whether he gave me a +stronger dose, or whether I was too seedy to stand my usual quantity, I +can't tell you, but I overslept my time."</p> + +<p>He passed his hand over his face with a sideways look that was horrible +in its shamefacedness. Coryndon avoided looking at him in return, and +waited patiently until he went on.</p> + +<p>"Leh Shin remained with me. He never leaves the house whilst I am +inside," continued Joicey. "I was there the night of the twenty-ninth +and the day of the thirtieth. Luckily it was a Sunday and there was no +fear of questions cropping up, and I only got out at nightfall when it +was dark enough for me to go back without risk. Since then," he said, +rising to his feet and striking the writing-table with a clenched fist, +"I have been driven close to madness. Hartley was put on to the track of +Leh Shin by the lying old Burman, Mhtoon Pah, and Leh Shin's shop was +watched and he himself threatened. God! What I've gone through."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Coryndon, pushing back his chair. "You have been of +the very greatest assistance to me."</p> + +<p>Joicey sat down again, a mere torment-racked mass, deprived of the help +of his pretence, defenceless and helpless because his sin had found him +out in the person of a slim, dark-faced man, who looked at him with +burning pity in his eyes.</p> + +<p>The world jests at the abstract presentment of vice. From pulpits it +appears clothed in attractive words and is spoken of as alluring; and, +supported by the laughter of the idle and the stern belief of the +righteous in its charms, man sees something gallant and forbidden in +following its secret paths. The abstract view has the charm and +attraction of an impressionist picture, but once the curtain is down, +and the witness stands out with a terrible pointing finger, the laughter +of the world dies into silence, and the testimony of the preacher that +vice is provided with unearthly beauty becomes a false statement, and +man is conscious only of the degradation of his own soul.</p> + +<p>Coryndon left the room noiselessly and returned up the steps, along the +corridor and down the stone flight that led into the subsiding heat of +the late afternoon. The young man with the smooth, affable manner +wheeled a bicycle out of a far corner, and smiled pleasantly at +Coryndon.</p> + +<p>"You saw the Manager, and got what you wanted?"</p> + +<p>"I saw him, and got even more than I wanted," said Coryndon, with +conviction.</p> + +<p>Things like this puzzled the dream side of his nature and left him +exhausted. The gathering passion of rage in Joicey's eyes had not +touched him, but the memory of the big, bull-dog, defiant man huddled on +the low chair, his arm over his face, was a memory that spoke of other +things than what he had come there to discover; the terrible things that +are behind life and that have power over it. He had to collect himself +with definite force, as a child's attention is recalled to a +lesson-book.</p> + +<p>"He has cleared Leh Shin," he said to himself, and at first exactly all +that the words meant was not clear to his mind. Joicey had cleared the +Chinaman of complicity, and had knocked the whole structure of carefully +selected evidence away with a few words.</p> + +<p>Coryndon was back in Hartley's bungalow with this to consider; and it +left him in a strange place, miles from any conclusion. He had sighted +the end of his labours, seen the reward of his long secret watchfulness, +and now they had withdrawn again beyond his grasp. Heath had seen +Absalom with the Chinaman's assistant. Joicey, whose evidence marked a +later hour than that of Heath, had seen him alone, and the solitary +figure of the small boy hurrying into the dark was the last record that +indicated the way he had gone.</p> + +<p>Nothing connected itself with the picture as Coryndon sat brooding over +it, and then gradually his mind cleared and the confusion of the +destruction of his carefully worked-out plan departed from his brain +like a wind-blown cloud. There was a link, and his sensitive fine +fingers caught it suddenly, the very shock of contact sending the blood +into his cheeks.</p> + +<p>The picture was clear now. Absalom, a little white-clad figure, slim, +eager and dutiful, hurried into the shadows of night, but Coryndon was +at his heels this time. The clue was so tiny, so infinitesimal, that it +took the eye of a man trained to the last inch in the habit of seeing +everything to notice it, but it did not escape Coryndon.</p> + +<p>He joined Hartley at tea in the sitting-room, with its semi-official air +of being used for serious work, and Hartley fulfilled his avocation by +bringing Coryndon back from strange places into the heart of sane +humdrum existence. Surely if some men are pillars, and others rockets, +and more poets, professors and preachers, some are hand-rails, and only +the man who has just been standing on a dizzy height looking sheer into +the bottomless pit where nothing is safe and where life crumbles and +fear is too close to the consciousness, knows the value and even the +beauty of a hand-rail, and knows that there is no need to mock at its +limitations. For a few minutes Coryndon leant upon the moral support of +Hartley's cheery personality, and then he told him that he was going +back to the Bazaar that night, as circumstances led him to believe that +he might find what he wanted there and there only.</p> + +<p>"That means that you have cleared Heath?"</p> + +<p>Hartley's voice was relieved.</p> + +<p>"Heath is entirely exonerated."</p> + +<p>Coryndon wandered to the piano, and he played the twilight into the +garden, the bats out of the eaves, and he played the shadow of Joicey's +shame off his own soul until he was refreshed and renewed, and it was +time for him to return to his disguise and slip out of the house.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXI" id="XXI" />XXI</h2> + +<h3>DEMONSTRATES THE PERSUASIVE POWER OF A KNIFE EDGE, AND TELLS A STORY OF +A GOLD LACQUER BOWL</h3> + + +<p>The obese boy sat in Leh Shin's shop, fiddling sometimes with his ears +and sometimes with the soles of his bare feet. He found life just a +little dull, and had he been able to express himself as "bored," he +would doubtless have done so. Peeling small dry scales of skin off +wear-hardened heels is not the most exciting occupation life affords, +and the assistant wished more than once that his master would return +from either the gambling den or the Joss House and liberate him for the +night.</p> + +<p>It was his night at the river house, and small opportunities for +pilfering from the drugged sleepers made these occasions both amusing +and profitable. On the whole he enjoyed the nights in the den, and they +added considerably to his bank in a box secreted behind the Joss who +flamed and pranced on the wall. Meanwhile, nothing was doing in the +shop, and company there was none, unless the cockroaches and the lizards +could be reckoned in that category.</p> + +<p>His master had been shaky and short of temper when he awoke from his +afternoon sleep, and had struck his assistant over the head more than +once in the course of an argument. Unseen things ticked and rustled in +dark corners, and the boy yawned loudly and stretched his arms, making +himself more hideous as his contracted mouth opened to its full oval in +his large round face. Still nothing happened and no one came, and he +returned to the closer examination of a blister that interested him. He +probed it with a needle, and it indicated its connection with his foot +by stinging as though he had burnt himself with a match.</p> + +<p>He was seated on a table bending over his horrible employment, half +pastime, half primitive operation, the light of the lamp full upon him, +when a sound of padding feet shook the floor and he looked up, his eyes +full of the effort of listening attentively, and saw a face peering in +at the door. For a moment he was startled, and then he swung his legs, +which hung short of the floor, over the side of the table and laughed +out loud.</p> + +<p>"So thou art back, Mountain of Wisdom?" he said jeeringly. "Come within +and tell me of thy journey."</p> + +<p>The Burman crept in stealthily, looking around him.</p> + +<p>"Aye, I am back. Having done the business."</p> + +<p>Curiosity leapt into the eyes of the Chinaman, and he dropped his +attitude of contempt.</p> + +<p>"What business?" he asked greedily. "Before thy departure thou wast +mute, stricken as a dumb man, neither wouldst thou speak in response to +any question."</p> + +<p>The Burman curled himself up on the floor and smiled complaisantly.</p> + +<p>"None the less, the business is done, O Bowl of Ghee, and I have +returned."</p> + +<p>The assistant ignored the personal description, and adopted a manner +calculated to ingratiate himself into the friendly confidence of the mad +Burman. He wriggled off the table and crouched on the floor a few inches +off Coryndon's face, and the contact being too close for human +endurance, Coryndon threw himself back into the corner and retired +behind a mask of cunning obstinacy.</p> + +<p>"Thy business, thy business," repeated the boy. "Was it in the nature of +the evil works of the bad man, thy friend?" He leered his encouragement, +and fumbling at his belt took out a small coin. "Here, I will give thee +two annas if thou tell the whole story to my liking."</p> + +<p>The Burman shook his head, but he appeared to be considering the offer +slowly in his obtuse and stagnant brain.</p> + +<p>"Give the money into mine own hand, that the reward be sure," he said, +as though he toyed with the idea.</p> + +<p>"Not so," replied the boy. "First the boiled rice and the salt, and +afterwards the payment. Thus is the way in honest dealings."</p> + +<p>The Burman shut his mouth tightly and exhibited signs of a return to his +former condition of dumbness that worked upon the assistant like gall.</p> + +<p>"Then, if nothing less will content thee, take thy money," he said in +frothy anger. "Take it and speak low, for it may be that eavesdroppers +are without in the street."</p> + +<p>He dropped the coin into the outstretched palm, but the Burman did not +begin his story. He got up and searched behind boxes and shook the rows +of hanging garments. He was so secret and silent that the boy became +exasperated and closed the narrow door into the street with a bang, +pulling across a heavy chain.</p> + +<p>"Let that content thee," he said irritably, chafing under the delay, and +sitting down, a frowsy, horrible object, in the dim corner, he prepared +to enjoy a further description out of the wild fantastic terrors of the +madman's brain.</p> + +<p>Surprise does not hover; its coming events are shadowless, and its +spring is the spring of a tiger out of the dark, and surprise came upon +Leh Shin's assistant as it has come upon men and nations since the world +first spun in space.</p> + +<p>He looked upon the Burman as a harmless lunatic, and he only +half-believed that he had ever been guilty of the act that had ended in +a term of imprisonment in the Andaman Islands, but in one moment he +realized that it might all be true and that he himself was possibly +singled out as the next victim.</p> + +<p>In one silent moment he found himself pinned in his corner, the Burman +squatting in front of him, a long knife which he had never seen before +pointing at his throat with horrible, determined persistency.</p> + +<p>He opened his mouth and thought to cry out for help, but the Burman +leaned forward and warned him that if he did so, his last minute had +inevitably come.</p> + +<p>"I am thy friend, thy good and honourable friend," he said pleasantly as +he made play with the Afghan dagger. "I do but make mirth for both +myself and thee, and I have no thought to harm thee."</p> + +<p>The flesh of the gross body crept and crawled under the Burman's look. +Fate had put the heart of a chicken in the huge frame of Leh Shin's +assistant, and it beat now like pelting hail on a frozen road. He was +close to a raw, naked fear, and it made him shameless as he gibbered and +cowered before it.</p> + +<p>"I have no money," he said, bleating out the words. "All that I have is +already paid to thee for thy tale."</p> + +<p>He whined and cringed and writhed in his close corner.</p> + +<p>"I have heard a strange tale," Coryndon said, bending a little closer to +him. "Old now as stale fish that has lain in the dust of the street. It +has been whispered in my ear that thou knowest how Absalom came to his +end."</p> + +<p>"I slew him in the house of a seaman," said the boy, in a quavering +voice. "Now take the point of thy knife from my throat, for it doth +greatly inconvenience pleasant speech between thee and me."</p> + +<p>Coryndon's watchful eye detected the lie before it announced itself in +words, or so it seemed to the boy, who resigned himself to the mere +paltry limitations of fact, and confessed that he and Absalom had been +friends and that he had never killed anything except a chicken, and once +a dog that was too young to bite his hand.</p> + +<p>The details of the story came out at long intervals, with breaks of +sweating terror between each one. Pieced together, it was simple enough. +In spite of the existing feud between their masters, Leh Shin's +assistant and Absalom had struck up a kind of friendship that was not +unlike the friendship of any two boys in any quarter of the globe. They +used special knocks upon the door, and when they passed as strangers in +the streets they made masonic signs to one another, and they also +gambled with European cards in off hours.</p> + +<p>The desire for money, so strong in the Chinaman, grew gradually in the +mind of the Christian boy, whose descent to Avernus was marked first by +the sale of his Sunday school prize-books, which he disposed of at the +Baptist Mission shop, receiving several rupees in return. Having once +possessed himself of what was wealth to him, and having lost most of it +in the gentlemanly vice of gambling, he began to need more, but being +slow-witted he could think of no way better than robbing Mhtoon Pah, +which suggestion the Chinaman's assistant looked upon as both dangerous +and weak, regarded in the light of a workable plan.</p> + +<p>It was inside his bullet-head that the idea of a plot that could not be +discovered came into its first nebulous being. Absalom found out that +Mhtoon Pah was looking for a gold lacquer bowl, and through the agency +of Leh Shin the bowl was eventually marked down as the property of a +seaman who was lodging temporarily near the opium den by the river, one +of Leh Shin's clients. The assistant had the good fortune to overhear +the preliminaries of the sale, and he immediately saw his opportunity, +as genius alone sees and recognizes chances. It was he who first told +Absalom that the bowl was located, and it was he who realized that +chance was beckoning on the adventurer.</p> + +<p>It was arranged that Absalom should inform Mhtoon Pah that the coveted +treasure was to be had for a price, and it was also the part of Mr. +Heath's best scholar, to obtain the money from Mhtoon Pah that was to be +paid over to the seaman for the bowl. By this time Absalom's gambling +debts had become a serious question with him, and even a lifelong +mortgage upon his weekly pay could hardly cover his liabilities. Besides +which, he had to live. That painful necessity which dogs the career of +greater men than Absalom.</p> + +<p>He appeared to have an almost childish trust in the craft and guile of +his Chinese friend, and set the whole matter before him. Mhtoon Pah was +ready to pay two hundred rupees for the lacquer bowl, as he was already +offered five hundred by Mrs. Wilder, and was content with the profit. +Two hundred rupees was a sum that was essentially worth some risk. To +hand it over to a drunken seaman was against all moral precept. The +sailor's ways were scandalous, his gain would go into evil hands. +Treated in this manner, even a Sunday-school graduate could lull an +uneasy conscience, and as far as Coryndon could judge, Absalom was not +troubled by any warnings from that silent mentor. Out of the brain of +Leh Shin's assistant the great scheme had leapt full-grown, and it only +required a little careful preparation to put it into action.</p> + +<p>The assistant knew the sailor, a Lascar with a craving for drink, and he +became friendly with him "out of hours," and learned his ways and the +times when he was likely to be in the house where he lodged. The sailor, +having come to know that value was attached to his bowl, guarded it with +avaricious care when in a condition to do so; and Leh Shin, who trusted +his assistant, through whom the news of the deal had first come to his +ear, offered the man fifty rupees for what he had merely stolen from a +shop in Pekin. It took the assistant a full week to arrange events so +that he and Absalom could work together for the moral good of the +sailor, and protect him from the snares of lucre, represented by a third +of the money Leh Shin expected to receive.</p> + +<p>He dwelt with some pride upon the fact, and his vanity in this +particular almost conquered his fear of the Afghan blade that still +nestled close to his bull neck. He had drunk in friendship with the +sailor, dropping a drug into his cup, and waiting till his eyes grew dim +and he fell forward in a heavy sleep. But even in the moment of +achievement his wits were worth more than the wits of Absalom, for he +ran out of the house and established an alibi while the Christian boy +filched the bowl from beneath the bed of the intoxicated sailor. At a +given hour he waited for Absalom just where Heath had stood after he +had parted from Rydal, and so chance played twice into his hands in one +night. Absalom, who appeared to have imbibed some rudimentary principles +of honour among thieves, passed the boy his share, which was a hundred +and twenty rupees, including his debts of honour, and having done so, +sped away into the night, the bowl under his arm.</p> + +<p>"And that is all the story," said the boy, beating his hands on the +floor, and returning from the momentary forgetfulness of the narrative +to the immediate fear of the knife. "Further than that, I know nothing. +The hour is late and if I am not at the river house I shall feel the +wrath of my master."</p> + +<p>"It is a poor tale, a paltry tale," said the Burman, in tones of +disgust. "One that hardly requites me for my patience in hearing it +out."</p> + +<p>He slipped his knife back into his belt and got up from his heels with a +leisurely movement. The boy, still on all fours, watched him closely, +and the Burman, his eye attracted by a bright tin kettle hanging among +the other goods dependent from the ceiling, stood looking at it, and as +he looked the boy dodged out with a rush, overturning a bale of goods, +and tearing at the door like a mad dog, disappeared into the street.</p> + +<p>Coryndon watched him go, and went back to his corner to wait until Leh +Shin should return from either the gambling den or the Joss House. He +had something to say to Leh Shin, something that could not wait to be +said, and he composed himself to the necessary patience that is part of +all close, careful search, and while he waited, he turned over the +evidence that had arisen from the little clue that Joicey had given him. +Absalom had a parcel under his arm, and that parcel was the gold lacquer +bowl that had passed from Mhtoon Pah's curio shop to Mrs. Wilder's +writing-table.</p> + +<p>Coryndon fiddled with his fingers in the dust of the floor, and took a +blood-stained rag out of his pocket and spread it over his knee. Here +was another tangible piece of evidence brought by Mhtoon Pah to Hartley. +So the record of circumstance closed in. Coryndon thought again. A +lacquer bowl and a stained rag of silk, that was all. If he handed over +the case to Hartley and Mhtoon Pah was really guilty, other evidence +would in all probability be found, and the whole mystery made clear.</p> + +<p>He leaned against the wall and watched the throbbing lamp-wick, fighting +his passion for completed work and his conviction that only he could see +it through to its ultimate conclusion. He knew that he was dealing with +wits quite as crafty as his own, and argued the point from the other +side. Mhtoon Pah had given the rag himself to Hartley, and had sworn +that the bowl was left on the steps of his shop. If no further proof was +forthcoming, these two facts unsupported were almost worthless. Unless a +complete denial of his story could be set against it, Hartley stood to +be checkmated.</p> + +<p>Coryndon had nearly decided against Leh Shin. He drew his knees up under +his chin and came to a definite conclusion. He could not give up the +case as it stood; he was absolved from any hint of professional +jealousy, and he could count himself free to follow the evidence until +it led him irrevocably to the spot where the whole detail was clear and +definite.</p> + +<p>All the faces of the men who had figured in the drama floated across his +mind, and he thought of the strange key that turned in the lock of one +small trivial destiny, opening other doors as if by magic. Absalom's +life or death had no outward connection with the Head of the Mangadone +Banking Firm, it had nothing in all its days to bring it into touch with +Rydal and Rydal's tragedy—Rydal whom Coryndon had never seen. It lay +apart, severed by race and every possible accident of birth or chance, +from the successful wife of a successful Civil Servant, or an earnest, +hard-working clergyman, and yet the great net of Destiny had been spread +on that night of the 29th of July, and every one of them had fallen into +its meshes.</p> + +<p>All the immense problem of the plan that so decides the current of men's +lives came over him, and he saw the limitless value of the insignificant +in life. Absalom was only a little floating piece of jetsam on the great +waters that divided all these lives, yet he was the factor that had +taken the place of the keystone in the arch; the pivot around which the +force that guided and ruled the whole apparent chaos had moved. Coryndon +wandered a long way in his thoughts from the shop where he sat on the +dusty floor, waiting for the return of Leh Shin. He was so still that +the cockroaches and black-beetles crept out again and formed into +marauding expeditions where the shadows of the hanging clothes fell +dark.</p> + +<p>He turned himself from the pressure of his thought and closed his eyes, +resting his brain in a quiet pool of untroubled silence. He knew the +need and the art of absolute relaxation from the strain of thought, and +though he did not sleep, he looked as though he slept, until he heard +the sound of approaching feet and a hand pushed against the door.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXII" id="XXII" />XXII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH CORYNDON HOLDS THE LAST THREAD AND DRAWS IT TIGHT</h3> + + +<p>When Leh Shin opened the shop door and pushed in his grey, gaunt face, +he looked around as though wondering in a half-dreamy, half-detached +abstraction where some object he had expected to see had gone. At length +his eyes wandered to the Burman, who sat on the ground eyeing him with a +curiously intent and concentrated regard.</p> + +<p>"Thine assistant hath gone to the river house," he said, answering the +unspoken question. "He left me in charge of thy shop and thy goods."</p> + +<p>Leh Shin nodded silently and closed the door. When he turned, the Burman +beckoned to him with a studied suggestion of mystery.</p> + +<p>"What is thy message?" asked Leh Shin. He believed the Burman to be +afflicted with a madness, and his odd and persistent movement of his arm +hardly conveyed anything to the drowsy, drugged brain of the Chinaman.</p> + +<p>The Burman made no reply, but beckoned again, pointing to the floor +beside him in dumb show, and Leh Shin advanced slowly and took up his +place on a grass mat a little distance off. Silently, and very softly, +the Burman crept near to him, and putting his mouth close to his ear, +talked in a rapid, hissing whisper. His words were low, but their effect +upon Leh Shin was startling, for he recoiled as though touched by a hot +needle. His hands clutched his clothes, and his whole frame stiffened. +Even when he drew away, he listened with avidity as the Burman continued +to pour forth his story.</p> + +<p>He had a friend in the household of Hartley Sahib, so he told Leh Shin, +a friend who had sensitive ears and had heard much; had heard in fact +the whole story of the stained rag, and of Mhtoon Pah's wild appeal for +justice against the Chinaman.</p> + +<p>"Well for thee, Leh Shin, that I have a friend in the house of that +<i>Thakin</i> who rules the Police. But for him I should not have been +informed of the plot against thy life, for, 'on this evidence,' saith +he, 'assuredly they will hang the Chinaman, and Mhtoon Pah is witness +against him.'"</p> + +<p>"Mhtoon Pah, Mhtoon Pah!" said Leh Shin, and he needed to add no curses +to the name, spoken as he said it.</p> + +<p>When Coryndon had fully explained that his friend, who was in the +service of Hartley, had not only given him a circumstantial account of +how the rag was to be used as final and conclusive evidence of Leh +Shin's guilt, but that he had also stolen the rag out of Hartley Sahib's +locked box, to be safely returned to him later, Leh Shin almost tore it +from between Coryndon's fingers.</p> + +<p>"Nay, I cannot deliver it unto thee. My word is pledged. Look closely at +it, if thou wilt, but it may not leave my hand or I break my oath."</p> + +<p>He held it under the circle of lamplight, and the Chinaman leaned over +his shoulder to look at it. For a long time he examined it carefully, +feeling its texture and touching it with light fingers.</p> + +<p>Coryndon watched him with some interest. The Chinaman was applying some +definite test to the silk, known to himself. At last he turned his eyes +on the Burman, staring with a gaunt, fierce look that saw many things, +and when he spoke his words grated and rattled and his voice was almost +beyond his control.</p> + +<p>"See now, O servant of Justice, I am learned in the matter of silks, and +without doubt this comes surely from but one place."</p> + +<p>Again he fell to touching the silk, and his crooked fingers shook as he +explained that the fragment was one he could identify. It was not the +product of the silk looms of Burma, or Shantung; it could not be +procured even in Japan. It was a rare and special product fashioned by +certain lake-dwellers in the Shan states, and so small was their output +that it went to no market.</p> + +<p>"In one shop only in Mangadone," he said; "nay, in one shop only in the +whole world may such silk be found. Thus, in his craft, hath mine enemy +overreached himself."</p> + +<p>"Thou art certain of this?"</p> + +<p>"As I am that the sun will rise."</p> + +<p>Coryndon looked again at the silk, and sat silently thinking.</p> + +<p>"The piece is cut off roughly," he said, after a moment of reflection. +"Yet, could it be fitted into the space left in the roll, then thou art +cleared, and hast just cause against Mhtoon Pah."</p> + +<p>"If thy madness comprehends so much, let it carry thee further still, O +stricken and afflicted," said Leh Shin, imploring him with voice and +gesture. "Night after night have I stood outside his shop, but who may +enter through a locked door? A breath, a shadow, or a flame, but not a +man." He lay on the ground and dug his nails into the floor. "I know the +shop from within and without, and I know that the lock opens with +difficulty but to one key, the key that hangs on a chain around the neck +of Mhtoon Pah."</p> + +<p>Silence fell again as Leh Shin wrestled with the problem that confronted +him.</p> + +<p>"What saidst thou?" said the Burman, suddenly coming to life. "A key?"</p> + +<p>He gave a low, chuckling laugh and rocked about in his corner.</p> + +<p>"Knowest thou of the story of Shiraz, the Punjabi?"</p> + +<p>"I have no mind for tales," said Leh Shin, striking at him with a futile +blow of rage.</p> + +<p>"Nay, restrain thy wrath, since thou hast spoken of a key. With a key +that was made by sorcery, he was enabled to open the treasure-box of the +Lady Sahib, and often hath he told me that all doors may be opened by +it, large or small. It is not hard for me to take it from under his +pillow while he sleeps."</p> + +<p>The Chinaman's jaw dropped, and he cast up his hands in mute +astonishment. If this was madness, sanity appeared only a doubtful +blessing set beside it. He drew his own wits together, and leaning near +the Burman laid before him the rough outline of a plan.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah's ways were known to him. Usually he went to the Pagoda after +the shop was closed, and he returned from there late; it was impossible +to be accurate as to the exact hour of his return. To risk detection was +to shatter all chance of success, and it was necessary to make sure +before attempting to break into the shop and identify the silk rag with +the original roll, if that might be done.</p> + +<p>There was only one course open to the Burman and Leh Shin, and that was +to wait until there was a <i>Pwé</i> at the Pagoda, which Mhtoon Pah would +certainly attend, as his new shrine drew many curious gazers to the +Temple. It would also draw the inhabitants of Paradise Street out of the +quarter, and leave the place practically deserted. For many reasons it +was necessary to wait such an opportunity, though Leh Shin raved at the +delay. It seemed to him that the whole plan was of his suggesting, and +he did not realize that every vague question put by the Burman led him +step by step to the complicated scheme.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow I will send forth my assistant to bring me word of the next +<i>Pwé</i>, so that the night may be marked in my mind, and that I shall gain +pleasure in considering the nearing downfall of my enemy."</p> + +<p>Coryndon slipped off to his house. He was tired mentally and physically, +but before he slept, he took a bundle of keys from his dispatch-box and +tied them to the waist of his <i>loongyi</i>.</p> + +<p>In the morning there was a fresh surprise for Leh Shin. His assistant +refused to leave the river house, and no persuasion would lure him out +to look after his master's shop. He was afraid of something or someone, +and he wept and entreated to be left where he was. Leh Shin beat him and +tried to drive him out, to no purpose, and in the end he prevailed over +his master, whose mind was occupied with other and more weighty affairs.</p> + +<p>Like a black shadow, Leh Shin crept about the streets, and he questioned +one and another as to the festivities to be held at the Pagoda. +Everywhere he heard of Mhtoon Pah's shrine, and of the great holiness of +the curio dealer. Mhtoon Pah was giving a feast at the Pagoda with +presents for the priests, and the night chosen was the night of the full +moon.</p> + +<p>"Art thou bidden?" asked one who remembered the day of Leh Shin's +prosperity.</p> + +<p>"It is in my thoughts, friend, to make my peace," said Leh Shin, with an +immovable face. "On the night when the moon is full, I am minded to do +so."</p> + +<p>His words were carried back to Mhtoon Pah, who pondered over them, +wondering what the Chinaman meant, finding something sinister in the +sound that added to his rage against his enemy.</p> + +<p>The day of the feast was dark and overcast, and the inhabitants of +Paradise Street looked at the sky with great misgiving, but the curio +dealer refused to be alarmed.</p> + +<p>"The night will be fine, for I have greatly propitiated the <i>Nats</i>," he +said with conviction, and he lolled and smoked in his chair at an +earlier hour than was usual with him.</p> + +<p>Even as he had said, the evening began to clear, and by sunset the heavy +clouds were all dispersed. A red sunset unfolded itself in a scroll of +fire across the sky, and Mangadone looked as though it was illuminated +by the flames of a conflagration. A strange evening, some said then, and +many said after. Even the pointing man lost his jaundice-yellow and +seemed to blush as he pointed up the steps. He had nothing to blush for. +His master was at the summit of his power. The <i>Hypongyis</i> lauded him +openly in the streets, and he was giving a feast at the Temple at which +the poorest would not be forgotten.</p> + +<p>Yet Mhtoon Pah was not altogether easy. His eyes rolled strangely from +time to time, and it was remarked by several that he walked to the end +of Paradise Street and looked down the Colonnade of the Chinese quarter, +standing there in thought. Old stories of the feud between him and Leh +Shin were recalled in whispers and passed about.</p> + +<p>The red of the sunset died out into rose-pink, and the effect of colour +in the very air faded and dwindled. People were already dressed out in +gala clothing, and streaming towards the Pagoda. The giver of the feast +did not start with them. He sat in his chair, and then withdrew into his +shop. A light travelled from thence to the upper story, and then with +slow hesitation, Mhtoon Pah came out by the front of the house and +locked the clamped padlock. He stood still for a few minutes, and then +he gasped and shook his fist at the empty air, and he, too, took his way +across the bridge and was lost in the shadows.</p> + +<p>Still the stream from Wharf Street and the confluent streets flowed on +up Paradise Street, and gradually only the maimed and the aged, or the +impossibly youthful, were left behind, to hear of the wonders afterwards +at secondhand, a secondhand likely to add rather than detract from what +actually took place. Even the Colonnade was empty and silent. Shiraz had +gone with the crowd to see what might be seen, and Leh Shin's assistant, +furtive and watchful, and in great terror of the Burman's knife, was +also in the throng that climbed the Pagoda steps.</p> + +<p>The moon that was to have shone on Mhtoon Pah's feast rose in a yellow +ring, and clouds came up, hazy, gaudy clouds that dimmed its light and +made the shadows in the silent streets dense and heavy. Usually there +was a police guard at the corner where Paradise Street met the +Colonnade, but that night Hartley considered the police would be more +necessary in the neighbourhood of the Pagoda. Mhtoon Pah did not think +of this. His conscience was easy, he had propitiated the <i>Nats</i>.</p> + +<p>The Pagoda was one blaze of light, and a thousand candles flamed before +every shrine; even the oldest and most neglected had its ring of light. +Small coloured lamps dotted the outlines of some of the booths, and the +whole spectacle presented a moving mass of brilliant colour. Sahibs had +come there. Hartley Sahib had agreed to appear for half an hour, and he +too looked at the crowd with curious, travelling eyes. Coryndon might be +among them, and probably was, he thought, but in any case there was +little chance of his recognizing him if he were.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah had not spared magnificent display, and the crowd told each +other that it was indeed a night to remember in Mangadone. Whispering +winds came out and rang the Temple bells, but even when the breeze +strengthened, the rain-clouds held off. It became a matter for +compliment and congratulation, and Mhtoon Pah accepted his friends' +flattery without pride. He was a good man, a benefactor, a +shrine-builder who followed "the Way" with zeal and fervour, and +besides, he had propitiated <i>Nats</i>; <i>Nats</i> who blew up storms, caused +earthquakes and were evilly disposed towards men.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah would have been at the point where a man's life touches +sublimity, but for one thing. The words of Leh Shin echoed in his ears +over all the applause and adulation.</p> + +<p>"It is in my thought, friend, to make my peace. On the night of the full +moon I am minded to do so."</p> + +<p>The moon riding clear of clouds, shone out over the concourse of men and +women. Anywhere among them all might be Leh Shin, the needy Chinaman, +and gripping his large hands into fists, Mhtoon Pah watched for him and +expected him, but watch as he might, he did not come, neither was there +any sign of him among all the crowd of faces that passed and repassed +before the new shrine.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII" />XXIII</h2> + +<h3>DEMONSTRATES THE TRUTH OF THE AXIOM THAT "THE UNEXPECTED ALWAYS HAPPENS"</h3> + + +<p>At the time when Mhtoon Pah was standing in the centre of a gazing group +before the new shrine, and trying to forget that nothing except the news +of Leh Shin's hanging would give him real satisfaction, the Chinaman, +accompanied by the Burman, slipped up the channel of gloom under the +Colonnade and made his way into Paradise Street.</p> + +<p>The Burman walked with an easy unconscious step, but Leh Shin crept +close to the wall and started when he passed a sleeping form in a +doorway. Night fears and that trembling anxiety that comes when +fulfilment is close at hand were upon him. He knew that the point in +view was to effect an entrance into the curio shop, the threshold of +which he had not crossed since his last black hour of misfortune had +struck and he had gone out a beggar.</p> + +<p>Everything in his life lay on the other side of the shop door; all his +happy, prosperous, careless days, all the good years. Every one of them +was stored there just as surely as Mhtoon Pah's ivories and carved +screens and silks were stored safe against the encroachment of damp and +must. His old self might even be somewhere in the silent house, and it +takes a special quality of courage for a man to return and walk through +a doorway into the long past. For the first time for years he remembered +how he had brought his little son into the shop, and how the child had +laughed and crowed at the sight of amber and crystal chains.</p> + +<p>Even Mhtoon Pah grew dim in his mind, and he dallied with the forgotten +memories as he stood shaking in an archway watching the Burman cross the +street. Insensibly the Burman's mania had waned in the last few hours, +and he had grown silent and preoccupied, a fact that escaped Leh Shin's +notice. His owl eyes blinked with the strain of staring through the +wavering light, and his memories strove with him as though in physical +combat. Mhtoon Pah was no longer in the house, and instead of his shadow +another influence seemed to brood there, something that called to Leh +Shin, but not with the wild cry of hate. Before the days of still +greater affluence Leh Shin had lived there with his little Burmese wife.</p> + +<p>The Burman was on his knees, having some difficulty with the lock. He +could see him fighting it, and at last he saw the jerk of his hand that +told that the key had turned, and that the way was clear. Leh Shin dived +out of the recess and ran, a flitting shadow, across the road. The door +was open, but the Burman for all his madness was not satisfied. There +was a way out through the back by which they could emerge, and if the +front door hung loose, careless eyes might easily be attracted to the +fact. The pointing man was not there for nothing. Almost everyone +looked up the steps. Even in his fury of impatience, Leh Shin saw the +reason for caution, and agreed to open a window, and admit the Burman +after he had locked the door again.</p> + +<p>The moments were full of the tense agony of suspense, and he peered +cautiously out from under the silk blind. A late passer-by went slowly +up the street, and Leh Shin's heart beat a loud obbligato to the sound +of his wooden pattens. By craning his neck as the man passed, he could +just distinguish the Burman crouching behind the wooden man, who blandly +indicated the heavy padlock. The wooden man lied woodenly to the effect +that all was well within the curio shop, and a few minutes later the +Burman swung himself over the balustrade and climbed with cat-like +agility on to the window-ledge.</p> + +<p>The darkness of the room was heavy with scent, and Leh Shin stumbled +over unknown things. Coryndon struck a match and held it in the hollow +of one palm as he opened the aperture in the dark lantern he carried, +and lighted it. When he had done so he looked up, and taking no notice +of the masses of beautiful things, he went quickly to the silk cupboard, +opening it with another key on the ring.</p> + +<p>"Leh Shin," he said, speaking in a commanding whisper, "turn thyself +into an ear, and listen for me while I search."</p> + +<p>Leh Shin nodded silently, half-stupidly it seemed, and went on tip-toes +to the door that opened into the passage. All the power of the past was +over him, and though he heard the Burman's curt command he hardly seemed +to understand what he meant. For a little time he stood at the door, +hearing the rustling whisper of yards of silk torn down and glanced over +and discarded, and then he wandered almost without knowing it up the +staircase and through the rooms, until the sight of Mhtoon Pah's bed and +some of Mhtoon Pah's clothing recalled his mind to the reason of his +being there.</p> + +<p>He hurried down, his bare feet making no sound on the stairs, and looked +into the shop again. The Burman was seated on the floor, a width of silk +over his knees; all the displaced rolls had been put back. He had worked +swiftly and with the greatest care that no trace of his visit should be +known later.</p> + +<p>Leh Shin slid out again. The passage was dark as pitch, but he knew +every turn and twist of its windings, and he knew that it led down to +the cellars below the house. He was awake and alert now as Coryndon +himself, and as he strained his ears he caught a sound. He listened +again with horrible eagerness, looked back into the shop and saw the +stooping head going over every yard of a roll of fine silk faithfully; +and then he gripped the knife under his belt and, feeling along the wall +with his free hand, followed along the corridor. Once only he glanced +round and then the darkness of the corridor swallowed him from sight.</p> + +<p>Coryndon, busy with the silk made by the lake-dwellers spread over his +knees, knew nothing of Leh Shin's disappearance. The fever of chase was +in his blood, and he threw the flimsy yards through his hands. Nothing, +nothing, and again nothing, and again—he felt his heart swell with +sudden, stifled excitement. Under his hand was a three-cornered rent, a +damaged piece where a patch rather larger than his palm had been roughly +cut out. His usually steady hand shook as he put the stained rag over it +and fitted it into the place.</p> + +<p>"Leh Shin," he called, as he rose, but he called softly.</p> + +<p>No sound answered his whisper, and he stiffened his body and listened. +He had been wrong. There was a sound, but it did not come from inside +the shop: it was the slow footstep of a heavy man pausing to find a key.</p> + +<p>Coryndon listened no longer. He closed the door of the silk cupboard, +bundled up the yards of silk in his arms and extinguishing the lamp +darted behind a screen. It was a heavy carved teak screen, inset with +silk panels embroidered with a long spray of hanging wistaria on a dark +yellow ground. As he hid himself, he cursed his own stupidity. In the +excitement of his desire to enter the curio shop, he had forgotten to +hamper the lock with pebbles.</p> + +<p>After what seemed an age, the door opened slowly and Mhtoon Pah came in. +Something, he knew not what, had dragged him away from the Pagoda, and +dragged him back to his shop. His eyes looked mad and unnatural in the +light of the lantern he held in his hand, and he shut the door and stood +like a dog who scents danger, and stared round the room. He walked to +the silk cupboard and looked in through the glass panes, but did not +open it or discover that it was unlocked. He paced round the room, +stopping before the screen, his eyes still reflecting his trouble of +mind.</p> + +<p>From behind the screen, Coryndon watched every stir he made; he saw the +look on his face and noted Mhtoon Pah's smallest movement. There was no +evidence of thieves, and yet suspicion made itself plain in every line +of the curio dealer's body. At last, with a gasping sigh, he sat before +the small figure of an alabaster Gaudama and stared at it with unwinking +eyes.</p> + +<p>"I shed no blood," he said, in a low rattling voice. "I shed no blood. +My hands are clean."</p> + +<p>Over and over he repeated the words, like an incantation, his voice +rising and falling, until Coryndon could have emerged from his hiding +and taken him by the throat.</p> + +<p>The thought of coming out upon Mhtoon Pah crossed his mind, but his +instinct held him back. He wondered desperately where Leh Shin had gone, +and if he would come in upon the Burman making his strange prayer. Still +Mhtoon Pah repeated the words and swayed to and fro before the image of +the Buddha, and the very moments seemed to pause and listen with +Coryndon. The shop was close and the air oppressive. Little trickles of +sweat ran down his neck and made channels in the stain on his skin, and +still Coryndon waited in tense suspense.</p> + +<p>For nearly ten minutes Mhtoon Pah continued to rock and mutter on the +floor, and then he got up, and, taking his lantern, went out by the door +into the passage. Coryndon waited for the sound of a scuffle and a +fall, but none came, and he was in the dark, surrounded by silence once +more.</p> + +<p>Without waiting to consider, he followed across the room and saw the +swinging light go down the passage and disappear suddenly. It seemed to +Coryndon that Mhtoon Pah had disappeared, as though he had gone through +the wall at the end of the passage, and he followed slowly. Silence +locked him in again, the dark, motionless silence of enclosed space.</p> + +<p>He did not dare to call out again to Leh Shin, and for all that he could +tell, the Chinaman might have been an arm's-reach away from him in the +darkness, also waiting for some sudden thing to happen. The dark passage +was an ante-chamber to some event: Coryndon's tingling nerves told him +that; and he steadied himself, holding in his imagination in a close, +resolute grip.</p> + +<p>He had no way of judging the time that passed, but he guessed that it +seemed longer to him than it possibly could have been; when from +somewhere far below him, he heard a cry and the noise of several voices, +all raised into indistinct clamour.</p> + +<p>"More than one man," he thought, as his heart beat quickly. "<i>More than +two</i>," he added, in wonder as he strained in the effort of listening.</p> + +<p>The noise died out, and one low wail, continuous and plaintive, filled +the blank of dark silence. Coryndon felt for his matches, and knelt on +the floor, feeling before him with his hands. The crying had ceased, and +he touched the edge of a step. A long, steep flight began just under his +hand.</p> + +<p>He leaned back and held the match-box in his hand, knowing that he +could not venture the descent in the dark, and as he took out a match a +new sound caught his ear. A man was running in the dark. He heard him +stumble over the lower steps as he panted fiercely and he broke into a +cry as he ran, a strange, mad, sobbing cry, and he still gasped and gave +out his wordless wail as he tore past Coryndon and on along the passage +and into the shop.</p> + +<p>Coryndon heard the door bang behind him, he heard the sound of some +heavy thing being dragged before it. The footsteps and the voice were +not those of Leh Shin, and Coryndon knew that Mhtoon Pah had fled like a +man pursued by devils, and had barricaded himself in.</p> + +<p>For a moment Coryndon paused, and then lighted a match. Close under his +feet was the perilous edge of a staircase leading sheer down into a +well-like depth of blackness. A thin scream came up to him, and without +waiting to consider, he ran down quickly. At the bottom he found Mhtoon +Pah's overturned lantern, and relighting it, he followed the +intermittent call of fear that echoed through the damp, cavernous place +he found himself in.</p> + +<p>A closed door stood at the end of a narrow passage, and from the further +side of the door a stifled sound of terror came persistently. Leh Shin +sat in a huddled heap against the door, and Coryndon stooped over him, +throwing the light from the lantern he carried upon him.</p> + +<p>"I looked into his eyes," said the Chinaman, in a weak voice, "and once +more he overcame me. His knife rent my arm, and I fell as though dead."</p> + +<p>Coryndon supported him to his feet. His mind was working quickly.</p> + +<p>"Canst thou stand by thyself?" he asked impatiently.</p> + +<p>The Chinaman gave a nod of assent, and Coryndon hammered on the door, +throwing all his weight against it, until it cracked and fell inwards +under the nervous force of his slight frame.</p> + +<p>What Coryndon expected to see, he did not know. He was following his +natural instinct when he threw aside the chase and capture of Mhtoon Pah +and burst into the cellar-room. It was small and close, and smelt of the +foul, fruity atmosphere of mildew. The ceiling was low, and crouching in +one corner was a small boy, clad only in a loin-cloth, who stared at +them and screamed with fear.</p> + +<p>"The Chinamen, the Chinamen!" he shrieked. "Mhtoon Pah, the Chinamen."</p> + +<p>"Absalom," the name came to Coryndon's lips, as he stood staring at him. +"My God, it must be Absalom."</p> + +<p>He had spoken in English before he had time to think, and he turned to +see if his self-betrayal had struck upon the confused brain of Leh Shin, +but Leh Shin knew nothing and saw nothing but the face of the boy his +enemy loved. He had placed the lamp on the floor and was feeling for his +dagger, his eyes fascinated and his lips working soundlessly.</p> + +<p>Coryndon caught him by the shoulder and snatched his knife from his +hand.</p> + +<p>"Fool," he said. "Wouldst thou ruin all at the end? Listen closely and +attend to me. Now is the moment to cry for the police. Thine enemy is in +a close net; show me swiftly the way by which I may go out of this +house, and sit thou here and stir not, neither cry out nor speak until +thou hearest the police. By the way I go out will I leave the door open, +and some will enter there, and others at the front of the house."</p> + +<p>He turned to look at the boy, who pointed at the Chinaman and continued +to shriek for Mhtoon Pah. It was no moment for hesitation, though +Coryndon's thoughts went to the shop and the front door. By that door +Mhtoon Pah might already have escaped, but even allowing for this, there +was time to catch him again. He followed the way pointed out by the +shaking hand of Leh Shin.</p> + +<p>"If thou fail in aught that I have told thee, or if the boy escape or +suffer under thy hand, then is thine end also come," he said, as he +stood for a moment in the aperture that led into a waste place at the +back of the house; and then Coryndon ran through the night.</p> + +<p>The rain had come on, teeming, relentless rain that fell in pitiless +sheets out of a black sky. The roads ran with liquid mud and the stones +cut Coryndon's bare feet, but he ran on, his lungs aching and his throat +dry. It is not easy to think with the blood hammering in the pulses and +the breath coming short through gasping lungs, but Coryndon kept his +mind fixed upon one idea with steady determination. His object was to +get into the house unnoticed, and to awake Hartley without betraying +himself to the servants.</p> + +<p>Hartley's bungalow was closed for the night, and the <i>Durwan</i> slept +rolled in a blanket in a corner of the veranda. Coryndon held his +sobbing breath and crept along the shadows, watching the man closely +until the danger zone was passed, and then he ran on around the sharp +angle of the house and dived into Hartley's room. In the centre stood +the bed, draped in the ghostly outlines of white mosquito-curtains, and +Coryndon walked lightly over the matted floor and shook the bed gently. +Hartley stirred but did not wake, and Coryndon called his name and +continued to call it in a low whisper. The Head of the Police stirred +again and then sat up suddenly and answered Coryndon in the same low +undertone.</p> + +<p>"Get into your clothes quickly, while I tell you what has happened," +said Coryndon, sitting low in the shadow of the bed, and while Hartley +dressed he told him the details shortly and clearly.</p> + +<p>The bungalow was still in darkness, and, with a candle in his hand to +light him, Hartley went into his office and rang up the Paradise Street +Police Station. When he came back Coryndon was standing looking through +a corner of a raised chick.</p> + +<p>"The <i>Durwan</i> is awake," he said, without turning his head. "Call him +round to the front, otherwise he may see me."</p> + +<p>"Come on, come on, man," said Hartley impatiently, "there is no time to +lose."</p> + +<p>Coryndon turned and smiled at him.</p> + +<p>"This is where I go out of the case," he said. "I shall be back in time +for breakfast to-morrow," and without waiting to argue the point he +dived out into the waning darkness of the night, leaving Hartley looking +helplessly after him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXIV" id="XXIV" />XXIV</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH A WOODEN IMAGE POINTS FOR THE LAST TIME</h3> + + +<p>Before the Burman left Leh Shin in charge of Absalom, he had pinned the +Chinaman by the arms and spoken to him in strange, strong words that +scorched clear across the chaos in his mind and made him understand a +hidden thing. The fact that this man was not a mad convict, but a member +of the great secret society who tracked the guilty, almost stunned the +Chinaman, who knew and understood the immense power of secret societies.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah might be driving wildly along a road leading out of +Mangadone, and though one old Chinaman and a mad Burman could not stop +him, the long arm of police law would grab and capture his gross body. +Leh Shin sat quite still, content to rest and consider this. Telegrams +flashed messages under the great bidding of authority, men sprang armed +from stations in every village, the close grip of fate was not more +close than the grasp of the awakened machinery of justice, and in the +centre of its power Mhtoon Pah was helpless as a fly in the web of a +spider.</p> + +<p>"He travels fast, and fear is sitting on his shoulder, for he travels +to his death," he repeated over and over, swaying backwards and +forwards.</p> + +<p>He had an opium pellet hidden somewhere in his clothes, and he found it +and turned it over his tongue; weariness and sleep conquered the pain, +and Leh Shin sat with his head bent forward in heavy stupor. From this +condition he awoke to lights and noises and the sound of a file working +on iron.</p> + +<p>The police had come and Hartley was bending over the boy, talking to him +kindly and reassuring him as far as he could. Upstairs, the heavy thud +of blows on the outer door of the shop echoed through the house with +steady, persistent sound.</p> + +<p>Dawn had come in real earnest, and the street, but lately returned from +the excitements of the feast at the Pagoda, was thrilled by a new and +much more satisfying sensation. Three blue-coated, leather-belted +policemen were on the top of the steps that led to the door of the curio +shop, forcing it in. The heavy bolts held, and though the padlocked +chain hung idle, the door resisted all their efforts.</p> + +<p>Hartley was down in the cellars, and his way through to the shop was +blocked . . . blocked by the inner door which was also closed from +inside, and somewhere within was Mhtoon Pah. He was very silent in his +shop. No amount of hammering called forth any response, and even when +the door gave way and the bolt fell clattering to the ground, he did not +spring out.</p> + +<p>People had sometimes wondered at the curious destiny of the wooden man. +He had been there so long and had done his duty so faithfully. In rain +or shine alike, he had always been in the street, eternally bowing the +passers up the steps. Americans had tried to buy him, and had wished to +take him home to point at other free and enlightened citizens, but +Mhtoon Pah refused all offers of money. The wooden man was faithful to +him, and he in his turn was, in some way, faithful to the wooden man. He +had been there when Mhtoon Pah was a clerk and had indicated his rise, +he had seen him take over possession of the shop, and he had been +witness to many trivial things, and now he stood, the crowd behind him, +and pointed silently again. It seemed right for him to point, but it was +grotesque that he still smiled and bent forward.</p> + +<p>The closed gates of the dawn opened and let in the sun, and the pale +yellow light ventured across the threshold where the policemen hung +back, and even the crowd in the street were silent. The light fell on a +thousand small things that reflected its rays; it fell on a heavy carved +box drawn across the further entrance, on the swinging glass doors of +the open silk cupboard, on bowls of silver and bowls of brass, and it +fell full on the thing that of all others drew the horrified eyes of the +watchers.</p> + +<p>Mhtoon Pah, the wealthy curio dealer, the shrine builder, the friend of +the powerful, hung from a beam across the centre of the low ceiling, and +Mhtoon Pah was dead, strangled in a fine, silk scarf. Fine, strong silk +made only by certain lake-dwellers in a wild place just across the Shan +frontier.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the destiny which Shiraz believed a man may not escape, be he as +fleet as a flying stag, had caught up with him, and it was not without +reason that the image had pointed at something not there years ago, not +there when youth was there, and hope and love, and when Leh Shin had +lived and been happy there, but to come, certainly and surely to come.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Hartley and Coryndon sat long over their breakfast. Coryndon's face was +strained and tired, and heavy lines of fatigue were marked under his +dark eyes.</p> + +<p>"The boy was not in a condition to give any lucid explanation when I +brought him back," said Hartley, "so I left him until we could both hear +his story together." He called to his Bearer and gave instructions for +the boy to be brought in.</p> + +<p>Coryndon nodded silently; his eyes lit up with interest and all his +listlessness vanished as he watched the door.</p> + +<p>Following Hartley's Bearer, a small, thin boy came into the room, +dressed in a white suit, with a tight white pugaree folded round his +head. He shrank nervously at every sound, and when he salaamed to +Hartley and Coryndon his face worked as though he was going to burst +into tears.</p> + +<p>"You have nothing to be afraid of," said Hartley kindly. "Just tell the +whole truth, and explain how it was that you came to be shut up in the +curio shop."</p> + +<p>The boy's eyes grew less terrified, and he began to speak in a low, +mumbling voice. He began in the middle of the account, and Hartley +gently but firmly pushed him back to the beginning.</p> + +<p>"Start with the story of the lacquer bowl," he said, talking very slowly +and clearly. "We want to hear what happened about that first."</p> + +<p>The mention of the subject of lacquer threw Absalom once more into a +state of panic, but as his story progressed he became more sure of +himself, and looked up, forgetting his fear in the excitement of having +a really remarkable story to tell, that was listened to by Sahibs with +intent interest.</p> + +<p>In tearful, stumbling words he admitted that he and Leh Shin's assistant +had been friends, and that those evil communications that corrupt not +only good manners but good morals had worked with disastrous results +upon him. With his brown knuckles to his protruding eyes, he admitted, +further, that he had stolen the gold lacquer bowl from the drugged and +drunken seaman, and that Leh Shin's assistant had plundered him of more +than half his rightful share of the profit. What remained over, he +protested, he intended to give to the "Missen," testifying to the fact +that his conscience was causing him uneasiness and that his natural +superstition made him adopt means, not unknown to other financiers, of +squaring things by a donation to a charitable object.</p> + +<p>He went on to explain that Mhtoon Pah had required him to come back late +by an unfrequented alley, from where his master himself had admitted him +into the basement of the shop. There was nothing altogether unusual +about this, it appeared, as Mhtoon Pah was very strange in his ways at +times. He cooked his own food for fear of poison, and was constantly +suspecting some indefinite enemy of designs upon his life. What was +unusual was the fact that he had been taken at once into the small cell, +and that, once there, Mhtoon Pah had behaved like a madman.</p> + +<p>Absalom could recall no coherent account of what the curio dealer had +told him. He had spoken to him of murder, and told him that the Chinamen +in the Quarter, headed by Leh Shin, were looking for him to kill him, +and that, for his safety, he must remain hidden away. Mhtoon Pah told +him that he would protect him, and that he would produce evidence to +have Leh Shin hanged, and that once he was dead he would then emerge +again, but not until then. He told him how Chinamen killed their +victims, and his fears and terrors communicated themselves to the boy, +who delivered himself up to bondage without resistance.</p> + +<p>For weeks Absalom dragged out a miserable existence, loose when Mhtoon +Pah was in the shop, but chained to the wall whenever he went out, and +only for an hour after midnight was the boy ever allowed to emerge into +the dark, waste garden at the back of the house. The rest of the time +was spent in the cell, and Absalom broke into incoherent wailing as he +called Hartley and Coryndon to witness that it had been a hard life.</p> + +<p>As the end of his story approached, Absalom grew more dramatic and +quoted the parting words of Mhtoon Pah before he went out to attend the +<i>Pwé</i> at the Pagoda.</p> + +<p>"I leave thee in fear," said he, "for thou art the apple of my eye, O +Absalom, and when I am gone some calamity may befall. From whence it +comes I know not, but as men look at the heaped clouds behind the hills +and say, 'Lo, it will soon fall in rain,' so does my heart look out and +observe darkness, and I am ill-satisfied to quit this house."</p> + +<p>His words rang in the mind of the boy, shut into the stifling darkness +below the ground, and he remembered that he cried out for help, not once +but over and over again, and that his cries were eventually answered by +the voice of Leh Shin, who had called him a child of vipers and +threatened to enter and break him against the wall as he would a +plantain. After that Absalom had refrained from crying out, and had +waited silently expecting the door to open and admit Leh Shin and his +last moment simultaneously. Upon the silence came the sounds of +scuffling and hoarse cries, and it seemed to Absalom that Leh Shin had +called out that he had already cut the heart from his ribs, and was +about to force it down Mhtoon Pah's throat, and then nothing was very +clear until voices and lights roused him from stupor to fresh terror and +alarm.</p> + +<p>He knew that the door had been unlocked and that a light travelled in, +held by a strange Burman, and that his terror of Leh Shin had made him +see things strangely, as though from a long way off; until, at the last, +the police had come and knocked the chain off his leg, and someone had +told him that his master was dead and had been found hanging in the +shop.</p> + +<p>Absalom's face quivered and he began to whimper.</p> + +<p>"And now my master is dead, and never in Mangadone shall I find such +another who will care for me and give me the pleasant life in Paradise +Street."</p> + +<p>Hartley handed the boy some money.</p> + +<p>"Take him away," he said to the Bearer. "You have told your story very +well, Absalom."</p> + +<p>He looked across at Coryndon when the room was empty, but Coryndon was +fiddling with some crumbs at the edge of the table.</p> + +<p>"Madness is the real explanation, I suppose," he said tentatively. +"Madness and obsession."</p> + +<p>"Obsession," echoed Coryndon. "That word explains almost every +inexplicable act in life." He took up a knife and held it level on his +palm. "There you have the normal condition, but once one end swings up +you get Genius and all the Arts, or madness and crime and the obsession +of one idea: one definite, over-mastering idea that drives every force +harnessed to its car."</p> + +<p>He got up and stretched his arms, and walked out through the veranda +into his room, where Shiraz was folding his clothes and laying them in +an open portmanteau. The old servant stood up and made a low salaam to +his master.</p> + +<p>"When the sun is down the wise traveller hurries to the Serai," Coryndon +said to him. "I leave to-night for Madras, Shiraz, and you with me."</p> + +<p>"The end of all things is just, Huzoor," replied the old man, a strange +light of reflection in his dim pebble-like eyes. "Is it not written that +none may rise so high, or plunge so deep, that he does not follow the +hidden path to the hidden end? For like a wind that goes and returns +never, or the shadow of a cloud passing over the desert, is the destiny +of a man."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="GLOSSARY" id="GLOSSARY" />GLOSSARY</h2> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Almirah</i></td><td align='center'>A press</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Babu</i></td><td align='center'>A clerk</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Butti</i></td><td align='center'>Lamp</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Charpoy</i></td><td align='center'>Bed</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Chota haziri</i></td><td align='center'>(Little breakfast) Early morning tea </td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Dhobie</i></td><td align='center'>Washerman</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Durwan</i></td><td align='center'>Watchman</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Ghee</i></td><td align='center'>Butter</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Gharry</i></td><td align='center'>Cab</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Gaudama</i></td><td align='center'>Buddha</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Htee</i></td><td align='center'>Topmost pinnacle</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Hypongyi</i></td><td align='center'>Priests</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Inshallah, Huzoor</i></td><td align='center'>God give you fortune, Prince</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Joss</i></td><td align='center'>A god</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Khitmutghar</i></td><td align='center'>Footman</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Loongyi</i></td><td align='center'>Petticoat</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Napi</i></td><td align='center'>Rotten fish</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Nats</i></td><td align='center'>Tree spirits</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Pani walla</i></td><td align='center'>Water carrier</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Pwé</i></td><td align='center'>Feast</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Serai</i></td><td align='center'>Rest house</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Sirkar</i></td><td align='center'>Government</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Syce</i></td><td align='center'>Groom</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Tamasha</i></td><td align='center'>A show</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Thakin</i></td><td align='center'>Master</td><td align='center'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><i>Topi</i></td><td align='center'>Hat</td><td align='center'></td></tr></table> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Pointing Man, by Marjorie Douie + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POINTING MAN *** + +***** This file should be named 14049-h.htm or 14049-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/0/4/14049/ + +Produced by Steven desJardins and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Pointing Man + A Burmese Mystery + +Author: Marjorie Douie + +Release Date: November 15, 2004 [EBook #14049] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POINTING MAN *** + + + + +Produced by Steven desJardins and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + +THE POINTING MAN + +_A Burmese Mystery_ + +BY MARJORIE DOUIE + +NEW YORK +E.P. DUTTON & COMPANY +1920 + + + + +CONTENTS + +I + +IN WHICH THE DESTINY THAT PLAYS WITH MEN MOVES THE PIECES ON THE +BOARD + +II + +TELLS THE STORY OF A LOSS, AND HOW IT AFFECTED THE REV. FRANCIS +HEATH + +III + +INDICATES A STANDPOINT COMMONLY SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT THE +PRINCIPLES OF THE JESUIT FATHERS + +IV + +INTRODUCES THE READER TO MRS. WILDER IN A SECRETIVE MOOD + +V + +CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, FINDS THAT HIS MEMORY IS NOT TO BE +TRUSTED + +VI + +TELLS HOW ATKINS EXPLAINS FACTS BY PEOPLE AND NOT PEOPLE BY +FACTS, AND HOW HARTLEY, HEAD OF THE POLICE, SMELLS THE SCENT OF +APPLE ORCHARDS GROWING IN A FOOL'S PARADISE + +VII + +FINDS THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH READING GEORGE HERBERT'S POEMS, AND +LEAVES HIM PLEDGED TO A POSSIBLY COMPROMISING SILENCE + +VIII + +SHOWS HOW THE CLOAK OF DARKNESS OF ONE NIGHT HIDES MANY +EMOTIONS, AND MRS. WILDER IS FRANKLY INQUISITIVE + +IX + +MRS. WILDER IS PRESENTED IN A MELTING MOOD, AND DRAYCOTT WILDER +IS FORCED TO RECALL THE LINES COMMENCING "A FOOL THERE WAS" + +X + +IN WHICH CRAVEN JOICEY IS OVERCOME BY A SUDDEN INDISPOSITION, +AND HARTLEY, WITHOUT LOOKING FOR HIM, FINDS THE MAN HE WANTED + +XI + +SHOWS HOW THE "WHISPER FROM THE DAWN OF LIFE" ENABLES CORYNDON +TO TAKE THE DRIFTING THREADS BETWEEN HIS FINGERS + +XII + +SHOWS HOW A MAN MAY CLIMB A HUNDRED STEPS INTO A PASSIONLESS +PEACE, AND RETURN AGAIN TO A WORLD OF SMALL TORMENTS + +XIII + +PUTS FORWARD THE FACT THAT A SUDDEN FRIENDSHIP NEED NOT BE BASED +UPON A SUDDEN LIKING; AND PASSES THE NIGHT UNTIL DAWN REVEALS A +SHAMEFUL SECRET + +XIV + +TELLS HOW SHIRAZ, THE PUNJABI, ADMITTED THE FRAILTIES OF +ORDINARY HUMANITY, AND HOW CORYNDON ATTENDED AFTERNOON SERVICE, +AND CONSIDERED THE VEXED QUESTION OF TEMPERAMENT + +XV + +IN WHICH THE FURTHERING OF A STRANGE COMRADESHIP IS CONTINUED, +AND A BEGGAR FROM AMRITZAR CRIES IN THE STREETS OF MANGADONE + +XVI + +IN WHICH LEH SHIN IS BREATHED UPON BY A JOSS AND EXPERIENCES THE +TERROR OF A MAN WHO TOUCHES THE VEIL BEHIND WHICH THE IMMORTALS +DWELL + +XVII + +TELLS HOW CORYNDON LEARNS FROM THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH WHAT THE +REV. FRANCIS HEATH NEVER TOLD HIM + +XVIII + +THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH UNLOCKS HIS DOOR AND SHOWS WHAT LIES +BEHIND + +XIX + +IN WHICH LEH SHIN WHISPERS A STORY INTO THE EAR OF SHIRAZ, THE +PUNJABI; THE BURDEN OF WHICH IS: "HAVE I FOUND THEE, O MINE +ENEMY?" + +XX + +CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, IS FACED BY A MAN WITH A WHIP IN HIS +HAND, AND CORYNDON FINDS A CLUE + +XXI + +DEMONSTRATES THE PERSUASIVE POWER OF A KNIFE EDGE, AND TELLS A +STORY OF A GOLD LACQUER BOWL + +XXII + +IN WHICH CORYNDON HOLDS THE LAST THREAD AND DRAWS IT TIGHT + +XXIII + +DEMONSTRATES THE TRUTH OF THE AXIOM THAT "THE UNEXPECTED ALWAYS +HAPPENS" + +XXIV + +IN WHICH A WOODEN IMAGE POINTS FOR THE LAST TIME + +GLOSSARY + + + + +THE POINTING MAN + +I + +IN WHICH THE DESTINY THAT PLAYS WITH MEN MOVES THE PIECES ON THE BOARD + + +Dust lay thick along the road that led through the very heart of the +native quarter of Mangadone; dust raised into a misty haze which hung in +the air and actually introduced a light undernote of red into the +effect. Dust, which covered the bare feet of the coolies, the velvet +slippers of the Burmese, which encroached everywhere and no one +regarded, for presently, just at sundown, shouting watermen, carrying +large bamboo vessels with great spouts, would come running along the +road, casting the splashing water on all sides, and reduce the dry +powder to temporary mud. + +The main street of the huge bazaar in Mangadone was as busy a +thoroughfare as any crowded lane of the city of London, and it blazed +with colour and life as the evening air grew cool. There were shops +where baskets were sold, shops apparently devoted only to the sale of +mirrors, shops where tailors sat on the ground and worked at sewing +machines; sweet stalls, food stalls, cafes, flanked by dusty tubs of +plants and crowded with customers, who reclined on sofas and chairs set +right into the street itself. Nearer the river end of the street, the +shops were more important, and business offices announced themselves on +large placards inscribed in English, and in curling Burmese characters +like small worms hooping and arching themselves, and again in thick +black letters which resembled tea leaves formed into the picturesque +design of Chinese writing, for Mangadone was one of the most +cosmopolitan ports of the East, and stood high in the commercial world +as a place for trade. + +Along the street a motley of colour took itself like a sea of shades and +tints. Green, crimson, lemon yellow, lapis-lazuli, royal purple, +intermingled with the naked brown bodies of coolies clad only in +loin-cloths, for every race and class emerged just before sunset. Rich +Burmen clad in yards of stiff, rustling silk jostled the lean, spare +Chinamen and the Madrassis who came to Mangadone to make money out of +the indolence of the natives of a place who cared to do little but smoke +and laugh. Poor Burmen in red and yellow cottons, as content with life +as their wealthy brethren, loitered and smoked with the little +white-coated women with flower-decked heads, and they all flowed on with +the tide and filled the air with a perpetual babel of sound. + +The great, high houses on either side of the street were dilapidated and +gaunt, let out for the most part in flats and tenements. Screaming +children swarmed naked and entirely unconcerned upon every landing, and +out on the verandas that gave publicity to the way of life in the +native quarter. Sometimes a rag of curtain covered the entrances to the +houses, but just as often it did not. Women washed the big brass and +earthenware pots, cooked the food, and played with the children in the +smoky darkness, or sat to watch the evening show of the street. + +At one corner of the upper end of the street was a curio and china shop +owned by a stout and wealthy Burman, Mhtoon Pah. The shop was one of the +features of the place, and no globe-trotting tourist could pass through +Mangadone without buying a set of tea-cups, a dancing devil, a carpet, +or a Burmese gong, from Mhtoon Pah. A strange-looking effigy in tight +breeches, with pointing yellow hands and a smiling yellow face, stood +outside the shop, eternally asking people in wooden, dumb show, to go in +and be robbed by the proprietor. He had stood there and pointed for so +long that the green glaze of his coat was sun-blistered, but he +invariably drew the attention of passing tourists, and acted as a +sign-board. He pointed at a small door up a flight of steps, and behind +the small door was a dark shop, smelling of sandal-wood and cassia, and +strong with the burning fumes of joss-sticks. Innumerable cardboard +boxes full of Japanese dolls, full of glass bracelets of all colours, +full of ivory figures, and full of amber and jade ornaments, were piled +in the shelves. Silver bands, embossed in relief with the history of the +Gaudama--the Lord Buddha--stood under glass protection, and everything +that the heart of the touring American or Britisher could desire was to +be had, at a price, in the curio shop of Mhtoon Pah. Umbrellas of all +colours from Bussan; silk from Shantung; carpets from Mirzapore; silver +peacocks, Japanese embroideries, shell-trimmed bags from Shan and +Cochin, all were there; and the wealth of Mhtoon Pah was great. + +Everybody knew the curio dealer: he had beguiled and swindled each new +arrival in Mangadone, and his personality helped to make him a very +definite figure in the place. He was a large man, his size accentuated +by his full silk petticoat; a man with large feet, large hands and a +round bullet head, set on a thick neck. He had a few sleek black hairs +at the corners of his mouth, and his long, narrow eyes, with thick +yellow whites and inky-black pupils, never expressed any emotion. +Clothed in strawberry-red silk and a white coat, with a crimson scarf +knotted low over his forehead, he was very nearly as strange and +wonderful a sight as his own shop of myriad wares, and his manner was at +all times the manner of a Grand Duke. Mhtoon Pah was as well known as +the pointing effigy outside, but, whereas the world in the street +believed they knew what the wooden man pointed at, no one could ever +tell what Mhtoon Pah saw, and no one knew except Mhtoon Pah himself. + +All day long Mhtoon Pah sat inside his shop on a low divan and smoked +cheroots, and only when a customer was of sufficient importance did he +ever rise to conduct a sale himself. He was assisted by a thin, eager +boy, a native Christian from Ootacamund, who had followed several trades +before he became the shop assistant of Mhtoon Pah. He was useful +because he could speak English, and he had been dressing-boy to a +married Sahib who lived in a big house at the end of the Cantonment, +therefore he knew something of the ways of Mem-Sahibs; and he had taken +a prize at the Sunday school, therefore Absalom was a boy of good +character, and was known very nearly as well as Mhtoon Pah himself. + +It was a hot, stifling evening, the evening of July the 29th. The rains +had lashed the country for days, and even the trees that grew in among +the houses of Paradise Street were fresh and green, though one of the +hot, burning breaks of blue sky and glaring sunlight had baked the road +into Indian-red dust once more, and the interior of Mhtoon Pah's curio +shop was heavy with stale scents and dark shadows that crept out as the +gloom of evening settled in upon it. Mhtoon Pah moved about looking at +his goods, and touching them with careful hands. He hovered over an +ivory lady carrying an umbrella, and looked long at a white marble +Buddha, who returned his look with an equally inscrutable regard. The +Buddha sat cross-legged, thinking for ever and ever about eternity, and +Mhtoon Pah moved round in red velvet toe-slippers, pattering lightly as +he went, for in spite of his bulk Mhtoon Pah had an almost soundless +walk. Having gone over everything and stood to count the silver bowls, +he waited as though he was listening, and after a little the light creak +of the staircase warned him that steps were coming towards the shop from +the upper rooms. + +"Absalom," he called, and the steps hurried, and after a moment's talk +to which the boy listened carefully as though receiving directions, he +told him to close the shop and place his chair at the top of the steps, +as he desired to sit outside and look at the street. + +When the chair was placed, Mhtoon Pah took up his elevated position and +smoked silently. The toil of the day was over, and he leaned his arm +along the back of his chair and crossed one leg over his knee. He could +hear Absalom closing the shop behind him, and he turned his curious, +expressionless eyes upon the boy as he passed down the steps and mingled +with the crowd in the street. Just opposite, a story-teller squatted on +the ground in the centre of a group of men who laughed and clapped their +hands, his flashing teeth and quick gesticulations adding to each point +he made; it was still clear enough to see his alternating expression of +assumed anger or amusement. It was clear enough to notice the coloured +scarves and smiling faces of a bullock cart full of girls going slowly +homewards, and it was clear enough to see and recognize the Rev. Francis +Heath, hurrying at speed between the crowd; clear enough to see the Rev. +Francis stop for a moment to wish his old pupil Absalom good evening, +and then vanish quickly like a figure flashed on a screen by a +cinematograph. + +Lights came out in high windows and sounds of bagpipes and beating +tom-toms began inside the open doors of a nautch house. An evil-looking +house where green dragons curled up the fretted entrance, and where, +overhead, faces peered from a balcony into the street. There was noise +enough there to attract any amount of attention. Smart carriages, with +white-uniformed _syces_, hurried up, bearing stout, plethoric men from +the wharf offices, and Mhtoon Pah saluted several of the sahibs, who +reclined in comfort behind fine pairs of trotting horses. + +Their time for passing having gone, and the street relieved of the +disturbance, lamps were carried out and set upon tables and booths, but +a few red streaks of evening tinted the sky, and faces that passed were +still recognizable. A bay pony ridden by a lady almost at a gallop came +so fast that she was up the street and round the corner in a twinkling. +If Mrs. Wilder was dining out on the night of July 29th she was running +things close; equally so if she was receiving guests. + +A flare of light from a window opposite fell across the face of the +dancing man, who pointed at Mhtoon Pah, and appeared to make him offer +his principal for sale, or introduce him to the street with an +indicating finger. The gloom grew, calling out the lights into strength, +but the concourse did not thin: it only gathered in numbers, and the +long, moaning hoot of an out-going tramp filled the air as though with a +wail of sorrow at departure. Lascars in coal-begrimed tunics joined in +with the rest, adding their voices to the babel, and round-hatted +sailors from the Royal Indian Marine ships mingled with them. + +All up and down the Mangadone River lights came out. Clear lights along +the land, and wavering torch-lights in the water. Ships' port-holes +cleared themselves in the darkness, ships' lights gleamed green and red +in high stars up in the crows'-nests, or at the shapeless bulk of dark +bows, and white sheets of strong electric clearness lay over one or two +landing-stages where craft was moored alongside and overtime work still +continued. Little sampans glided in and out like whispers, and small +boats with crossed oars, rowed by one man, ferried to and fro, but it +was late, and, gradually, all commercial traffic ceased. + +It was quite late now, an hour when European life had withdrawn to the +Cantonment. It was not an hour for Sahibs on foot to be about, and yet +it seemed that there was one who found the night air of July 29th hot +and close, and desired to go towards the river for the sake of the +breeze and the fresh air. He, too, like all the others, passed along +Paradise Street, passing quickly, as the others had passed, his head +bent and his eyes averted from the faces that looked up at him from easy +chairs, from crowded doorsteps, or that leaned over balconies. He, also, +whoever he was, had not Mhtoon Pah's leisure to regard the street, and +he went on with a steady, quick walk which took him out on to the wharf, +and from the wharf along a waste place where the tram lines ceased, and +away from there towards a cluster of lights in a house close over the +dark river itself. + +The stars came out overhead, and the Southern Cross leaned down; seen +from the river over the twin towers of the cathedral, seen from the +cathedral brooding over the native quarter, seen in Paradise Street not +at all, and not in any way missed by the inhabitants, whose eyes were +not upon the stars; seen again in the Cantonment, over the massed trees +of the park, and seen remarkably well from the wide veranda of Mrs. +Wilder's bungalow, where the guests sat after a long dinner, remarking +upon the heat and oppressiveness of the tropic night. The fire-flies +danced over the trees like iridescent sparks hung on invisible gauze, +and even came into the lighted drawing-room, to sparkle with less +radiance against the plain white walls. Fans whirred round and round +like large tee-totums set near the ceiling, and even the electric light +appeared to give out heat; no breeze stirred from the far-away river, no +coolness came with the dark, no relief from the brooding, sultry heat. +It was no hotter than many nights in any break in the rains, but the +guests invited by Mrs. Wilder felt the languor of the air, and felt it +more profoundly because their hostess herself was affected by it. + +Mrs. Wilder was a dark, handsome woman of thirty-five, usually full of +life and animation, and her dinners were known to be entertainments in +the real sense of the word. Draycott Wilder was no mate for her in +appearance or manner, but Draycott Wilder was marked by the Powers as a +successful man. He took very little part in the social side of their +married life, and sat in the shadow near the lighted door, listening +while his guests talked. The party was in no way different to many +others, and it would have ended and been forgotten by all concerned if +it had not been for the fact that an unusual occurrence broke it up in +dismay. Mrs. Wilder complained of the heat during dinner, and she had +been pale, looking doubly so in her vivid green dress; her usual +animation had vanished, and she talked with evident effort and seemed +glad of the darkness of the veranda. + +Suddenly one of those strange silences fell over everyone, silences that +may be of a few seconds' duration, but that appear like hours. What they +are connected with, no one can guess. The silence lasted for a second, +and it was broken with sudden violence. + +"My God," said the voice of Hartley, the Head of the Police, speaking in +tones of alarm. "Mrs. Wilder has fainted!" She had fallen forward in her +chair, and he had caught her as she fell. + +Very soon the guests dispersed and the bungalow was still for the night. +One or two waited to hear what the doctor had to say, and went away +satisfied in the knowledge that the heat had been too much for Mrs. +Wilder, and, but for that event, the dinner-party would have been +forgotten after two days. Hartley was the last to leave, and the sound +of trotting hoofs grew faint along the road. + +By an hour after midnight nearly the whole white population can be +presumed to be asleep; day wakes early in the East, and there are few +who keep all-night hours, because morning calls men from their beds to +their work, and even this hot, sultry night people lay on their beds and +tried to sleep; but in the small bungalow where the Rev. Francis Heath +lived with a solitary Sapper officer, the bed that he slept in was +smooth and unstirred by restless tossing inside the mosquito net. + +The Rev. Francis was out, sitting by the bed of a dying parishioner. He +watched the long hours through, dressed as he had been in the afternoon, +in a grey flannel suit, his thin neck too long and too spare for his +all-around collar, and as he watched sometimes and sometimes prayed, he +too felt the pressure of the night. + +The woman he prayed beside was dying and quite unconscious of his +presence. Now and then, to relieve the strain, he got up and stood by +the window, looking at the lights against the sky and thinking very +definitely of something that troubled him and drew his lips into a +tight, thin line. He was a young man of the type described usually as +"zealous" and "earnest," and a light that was almost the light of +fanaticism shone in his eyes. A dying parishioner was no more of a +novelty to Mr. Heath, than one of Mrs. Wilder's dinner-parties was to +her guests, and yet the woman on the bed appealed to his pity as few +others had done in his experience. + +When the doctor came he nodded to the clergyman and just touched the +hand on the quilt. He was in evening dress, and he explained that he had +been detained owing to his hostess having been taken suddenly ill. + +"Where is Rydal himself?" + +He asked the question carelessly, dropping the pulseless wrist. + +"Who can tell?" said the Rev. Francis Heath. + +"He'd better keep out of the way," continued the doctor. "I believe +there's a police warrant out for him. Hartley spoke of it to-night. She +will be gone before morning, and a good job for her." + +The throbbing hot night wore on, and July the 29th became July the 30th, +and Mangadone awoke to a fierce, tearing thunder-storm that boomed and +crashed and wore itself out in torrents of heavy rain. + + + + +II + +TELLS THE STORY OF A LOSS, AND HOW IT AFFECTED THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH + + +Half-way up a low hill rise on the far side of the Mangadone Cantonment +was the bungalow of Hartley, Head of the Police. It was a tidy, +well-kept house, the house of a bachelor who had an eye to things +himself and who was well served by competent servants. Hartley had +reached the age of forty without having married, and he was solid of +build and entirely sensible and practical of mind. He was spoken of as +"sound" and "capable," for it is thus we describe men with a word, and +his mind was adjusted so as to give room for only one idea at a time. He +was convinced that he was tactful to a fault, nothing had ever shaken +him in this belief, and his personal courage was the courage of the +British lion. Hartley was popular and on friendly and confidential terms +with everybody. + +Mangadone, like most other places in the East, was as full of cliques as +a book is of words, but Hartley regarded them not at all. Popularity was +his weakness and his strength, and he swam in all waters and was invited +everywhere. Mrs. Wilder, who knew exactly who to treat with distant +condescension and who to ignore entirely, invariably included him in +her intimate dinners, and the Chief Commissioner, also a bachelor, +invited him frequently and discussed many topics with him as the wine +circled. Even Craven Joicey, the banker, who made very few acquaintances +and fewer intimates, was friendly with Hartley; one of those odd, +unlikely friendships that no one understands. + +The week following upon the thunder-storm had been a week of grey skies +over an acid-green world, and even Hartley became conscious that there +is something mournful about a tropical country without a sun in the sky +as he sat in his writing-room. It was gloomy there, and the palm trees +outside tossed and swayed, and the low mist wraiths down in the valley +clung and folded like cotton-wool, hiding the town and covering it up to +the very top spires of the cathedral. Hartley was making out a report on +a case of dacoity against a Chinaman, but the light in the room was bad, +and he pushed back his chair impatiently and shouted to the boy to bring +a lamp. + +His tea was set out on a small lacquer table near his chair, and his +fox-terrier watched him with imploring eyes, occasionally voicing his +feelings in a stifled bark. The boy came in answer to his call, carrying +the lamp in his hands, and put it down near Hartley, who turned up the +wick, and fell to his reading again; then, putting the report into a +locked drawer, he drew his chair from the writing-table and poured out a +cup of tea. + +He had every reason to suppose that his day's work was done, and that he +could start off for the Club when his tea was finished. The wind rattled +the palm branches and came in gusts through the veranda, banging doors +and shaking windows, and the evening grew dark early, with the +comfortless darkness of rain overhead, when the wheels of a carriage +sounded on the damp, sodden gravel outside. Hartley got up and peered +through the curtain that hung across the door. Callers at such an hour +upon such a day were not acceptable, and he muttered under his breath, +feeling relieved, however, when he saw a fat and heavy figure in Burmese +clothing get out from the _gharry_. + +"If that is anyone to see me on business, say that this is neither the +place nor the hour to come," he shouted to the boy, and returning to the +tea-table, poured out a saucer of milk for the eager terrier, now +divided between his duties as a dog and his feelings as an animal. + +The boy reappeared after a pause, bearing a message to the effect that +Mhtoon Pah begged an immediate interview upon a subject so pressing that +it could not wait. + +Hartley listened to the message, swore under his breath, and looked +sharply at Mhtoon Pah when he came into the room. Usually the curio +dealer had a smile and a suave, pleasant manner, but on this occasion +all his suavity was gone, and his eyes, usually so inexpressive and +secret, were lighted with a strange, wolfish look of anger and rage that +was almost suggestive of insanity. + +He bowed before the Head of the Police and began to talk in broken, +gasping words, waving his hands as he spoke. His story was confused and +rambling, but what he told was to the effect that his boy, Absalom, had +disappeared and could not be found. + +"It was the night of the 29th of July, _Thakin_, and I sent him forth +upon a business. Next morning he did not return. It was I who opened the +shop, it was I who waited upon customers, and Absalom was not there." + +"What inquiries have you made?" + +"All that may be made, _Thakin_. His mother comes crying to my door, his +brothers have searched everywhere. Ah, that I had the body of the man +who has done this thing, and held him in the sacred tank, to make food +for the fishes." + +His dark eyes gleamed, and he showed his teeth like a dog. + +"Nonsense, man," said Hartley, quickly. "You seem to suppose that the +boy is dead. What reason have you for imagining that there has been foul +play?" + +"_Seem_ to suppose, _Thakin_?" Mhtoon Pah gasped again, like a drowning +man. "And yet the _Thakin_ knows the sewer city, the Chinese quarter, +the streets where men laugh horribly in the dark. Houses there, +_Thakin_, that crawl with yellow men, who are devils, and who split a +man as they would split a fowl--" he broke off, and waved his hands +about wildly. + +Hartley felt a little sick; there was something so hideous in the way +Mhtoon Pah expressed himself that he recoiled a step and summoned his +common sense to his aid. + +"Who saw Absalom last?" + +"Many people must have seen him. I sat myself outside the shop at sunset +to watch the street, and had sent Absalom forth upon a business, a +private business: he was a good boy. Many saw him go out, but no one saw +him return." + +"That is no use, Mhtoon Pah; you must give me some names. Who saw the +boy besides yourself?" + +Mhtoon Pah opened his mouth twice before any sound came, and he beat his +hands together. + +"The Padre Sahib, going in a hurry, spoke a word to him; I saw that with +my eyes." + +"Mr. Heath?" + +"Yes, _Thakin_, no other." + +"And besides Mr. Heath, was there anyone else who saw him?" + +Mhtoon Pah bowed himself double in his chair and rocked about. + +"The whole street saw him go, but none saw him return, neither will +they. They took Absalom into some dark place, and when his blood ran +over the floor, and out under the doors, the Chinamen got their little +knives, the knives that have long tortoise-shell handles, and very sharp +edges, and then--" + +"For God's sake stop talking like that," said Hartley, abruptly. "There +isn't a fragment of evidence to prove that the boy is murdered. I am +sorry for you, Mhtoon Pah, but I warn you that if you let yourself think +of things like that you will be in a lunatic asylum in a week." + +He took out a sheet of paper and made careful notes. The boy had been +gone four to five days, and beyond the fact that the Rev. Francis Heath +had seen and spoken to him, no one else was named as having passed along +Paradise Street. The clergyman's evidence was worth nothing at all, +except to prove that the boy had left Mhtoon Pah's shop at the time +mentioned, and Mhtoon Pah explained that the "private business" was to +buy a gold lacquer bowl desired by Mrs. Wilder, who had come to the shop +a day or two before and given the order. Gold lacquer bowls were +difficult to procure, and he had charged the boy to search for it in the +morning and to buy it, if possible, from the opium dealer Leh Shin, who +could be securely trusted to be half-drugged at an early hour. + +"It was the morning I spoke of, _Thakin_," said the curio dealer, who +had grown calmer. "But Absalom did not return to his home that night. He +may have gone to Leh Shin; he was a diligent boy, a good boy, always +eager in the pursuit of his duty and advantage." + +"I am very sorry for you, Mhtoon Pah," said Hartley again, "and I shall +investigate the matter. I know Leh Shin, and I consider it quite +unlikely that he has had anything to do with it." + +When Mhtoon Pah rattled away in the yellow _gharry_, Hartley put the +notes on one side. It was a police matter, and he could trust his staff +to work the subject up carefully under his supervision, and going to the +telephone, he communicated the principal facts to the head office, +mentioning the name of Leh Shin and the story of the gold lacquer bowl, +and giving instructions that Leh Shin was to be tactfully interrogated. + +When Hartley hung up the receiver he took his hat and waterproof and +went out into the warm, damp dusk of the evening. There was something +that he did not like about the weather. It was heavy, oppressive, +stifling, and though there was air in plenty, it was the stale air of a +day that seemed never to have got out of bed, but to have lain in a +close room behind the shut windows of Heaven. + +He remembered the boy Absalom well, and could recall his dark, eager +face, bulging eyes and protuberant under-lip, and the idea of his having +been decoyed off unto some place of horror haunted him. It was still on +his mind when he walked into the Club veranda and joined a group of men +in the bar. Joicey, the banker, was with them, silent, morose, and moody +according to his wont, taking no particular notice of anything or +anybody. Fitzgibbon, a young Irish barrister-at-law, was talking, and +laughing and doing his best to keep the company amused, but he could get +no response out of Joicey. Hartley was received with acclamations suited +to his general reputation for popularity, and he stood talking for a +little, glad to shake off his feeling of depression. When he saw Mr. +Heath come in and go up the staircase to an upstairs room, he followed +him with his eyes and decided to take the opportunity to speak to him. + +"What's the matter, Joicey?" he asked, speaking to the banker. "You look +as if you had fever." + +"I'm all right," Joicey spoke absently. "It's this infernally stuffy +weather, and the evenings." + +"I'm glad it's that," laughed Fitzgibbon, "I thought that it might be +me. I'm so broke that even my tea at _Chota haziri_ is getting badly +overdrawn." + +"Dine with me on Saturday," suggested Hartley, "I've seen very little of +you just lately." + +Joicey looked up and nodded. + +"I'll come," he said, laconically, and Hartley, finishing his drink, +went up the staircase. + +The reading-room of the Club was usually empty at that hour, and the +great tables littered with papers, free to any studious reader. When +Hartley came in, the Rev. Francis Heath had the place entirely to +himself, and was sitting with a copy of the _Saturday Review_ in his +hands. He did not hear Hartley come in, and he started as his name was +spoken, and putting down the _Review_, looked at the Head of the Police +with questioning eyes. + +"I've come to talk over something with you, Heath," Hartley began, +drawing a chair close to the table. "Can you remember anything at all of +what you were doing on the evening of July the twenty-ninth?" + +The Rev. Francis Heath dropped his paper, and stooped to pick it up; +certainly he found the evening hot, for his face ran with trickles of +perspiration. + +"July the twenty-ninth?" + +"Yes, that's the date. I am particularly anxious to know if you remember +it." + +Mr. Heath wiped his neck with his handkerchief. + +"I held service as usual at five o'clock." + +Hartley looked at him; there was something undeniably strained in the +clergyman's eyes and voice. + +"Ah, but what I am after took place later." + +The Rev. Francis Heath moistened his lips and stood up. + +"My memory is constantly at fault," he said, avoiding Hartley's eyes and +looking at the ground. "I would not like to make any specific statement +without--without--reference to my note-book." + +Hartley stared in astonishment. + +"This is only a small matter, Heath. I was trying to get round to my +point in the usual way, by giving no actual indication of what I wanted +to know. You see, if you tell a man what you want, he sometimes imagines +that what he did on another day is what really happened on the actual +occasion, and that, as you can imagine, makes our job very difficult. I +don't want to bother you, but as your name was mentioned to me in +connection with a certain investigation, I wished to test the truth of +my man's statement." + +Heath stood in the same attitude, his face pale and his eyes steadily +lowered. + +"It might be well for you to be more clear," he said, after a long +pause. + +"Did you go down Paradise Street just after sunset?" + +"I may have done so. I have several parishioners along the river bank." + +"Why the devil is he talking like this and looking like this?" Hartley +asked himself, impatiently. + +"I'm not a cross-examining counsel," he said, with some sharpness. "As +I told you before, Heath, it is only a very small matter." + +The Rev. Francis Heath gripped the back of his chair and a slight flush +mounted to his face. + +"I resent your questions, Mr. Hartley. What I did or did not do on the +evening of July the twenty-ninth can in no way affect you. I entirely +refuse to be made to answer anything. You have no right to ask me, and I +have no intention of replying." + +Hartley put his hand out in dismay. + +"Really, Heath, your attitude is quite absurd. I have already told one +man to-day that he was going mad; are you dreaming, man? I only want you +to help me, and you talk as if I had accused you of something. There is +nothing criminal in being seen in Paradise Street after sundown." + +Mr. Heath stood holding by the back of his chair, looking over Hartley's +head, his dark eyes burning and his face set. + +"Come, then," said the police officer abruptly, "who did you see? Did +you, for instance, see the Christian boy, Absalom, Mhtoon Pah's +assistant?" + +The Rev. Francis Heath made no answer. + +"Did you see him?" + +"I will not answer any further questions, but since you ask me, I did +see the boy." + +"Thank you, Heath; that took some getting at. Now will you tell me if +you saw him again later: I am supposing that you went down the wharf and +came back, shall I say, in an hour's time. Did you see Absalom again?" + +The clergyman stared out of the window, and his pause was of such +intensely long duration that when he said the one word, "No," it fell +like the splash of a stone dropped into a deep well. + +Hartley looked at his sleeve-links for quite a long time. + +"Good night, Heath," he said, getting up, but the Rev. Francis Heath +made no reply. + +Hartley went back to his bungalow with something to think about. He had +always regarded Heath as a difficult and rather violently religious man. +They had never been friends, and he knew that they never could be +friends, but he respected the man even without liking him. Now he was +quite convinced that Heath, after some deliberation with his conscience, +had lied to him, and it made him angry. He had admitted, with the +greatest reluctance, that he had been through Paradise Street, and seen +the boy, and his declaration that he had not seen him again did not ring +with any real conviction. It made the whole question more interesting, +but it made it unpleasant. If things came to light that called the +inquiry into court, the Rev. Francis Heath might live to learn that the +law has a way of obliging men to speak. If Hartley had ever been sure of +anything in his life, he was sure that Heath knew something of Absalom, +and knew where he had gone in search of the gold lacquer bowl that was +desired by Mrs. Wilder. He made up his mind to see Mrs. Wilder and ask +her about the order for the bowl; but he hardly thought of her, his mind +was full of the mystery that attached itself to the question of the +Rector of St. Jude's parish, and his fierce and angry refusal to talk +reasonably. + +He threw open his windows and sat with the air playing on his face, and +his thoughts circled round and round the central idea. Absalom was +missing, and the Rev. Francis Heath had behaved in a way that led him to +believe that he knew a great deal more than he cared to say, and Hartley +brooded over the subject until he grew drowsy and went upstairs to bed. + + + + +III + +INDICATES A STANDPOINT COMMONLY SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT THE PRINCIPLES OF +THE JESUIT FATHERS + + +It was quite early the following morning when Hartley set out to take a +stroll down Paradise Street, and from there to the Chinese quarter, +where Leh Shin had a small shop in a colonnade running east and west. +The houses here were very different to the houses in Paradise Street. +The fronts were brightened with gilt, and green and red paint daubed the +entrances. Almost every third shop was a restaurant, and Hartley did not +care to think of the sort of food that was cooked and eaten within. +Immense lanterns, that turned into coloured moons by night, but they +were pale and dim by day, hung on the cross-beams inside the houses. + +Some half-way down the colonnade, and deep in the odorous gloom, Leh +Shin worked at nothing in particular, and sold devils as Mhtoon Pah sold +them, but without the same success. The door of his shop was closed, and +Hartley rapped upon it several times before he received an answer; then +a bolt was shot back, and Leh Shin's long neck stretched itself out +towards the officer. He was a thin, gaunt figure, lean as the Plague, +and his spare frame was clad in cheap black stuff that hung around him +like the garments of Death itself. Hartley drew back a step, for the +smell of _napi_ and onions is unpleasant even to the strongest of white +men, and told Leh Shin to open the door wide as he wished to talk to +him. Leh Shin, with many owlish blinkings of his narrow eyes, asked +Hartley to come inside. The street was not a good place for talking, and +Hartley followed him into the shop. + +It was very dark within, and a dim light fell from high skylight +windows, giving the shop something of the suggestion of a well. Counters +blocked it, making entrance a matter of single file, and, in the deep +gloom at the back, two candles burned before a huge, ferocious-looking +figure depicted on rice-paper and stuck against the wall. It was hard to +believe that it was day outside, so heavy was the darkness, and it was a +few moments before Hartley's eyes became accustomed to the sudden +change. Second-hand clothes hung on pegs around the room, and all kinds +of articles were jumbled together regardless of their nature. On the +floor was a litter of silk and silver goods, boxes, broken portmanteaux, +ropes, baskets, and on the counter nearest the door a tiny silver cage +of beautiful workmanship inhabited by a tiny golden bird with ruby eyes. + +At the back of the shop and near the yellow circle of light thrown by +the candles, was a boy, naked to the waist, and immensely stout and +heavy. His long plait of hair was twisted round and round on his shaven +forehead, and he stood perfectly still, watching the officer out of +small pig eyes. He was chewing something slowly, turning it about and +about inside a small, narrow slit of a mouth, and his whole expression +was cunning and evil. Leh Shin followed Hartley's glance and saw the +boy, and the sight of him seemed to recall him to actual life, for he +spoke in words that sounded like stones knocking together and ordered +him out of the shop. The boy looked at him oddly for a moment; then +turned away, still munching, and lounged out of the room, stopping on +the threshold of a back entrance to take one more look at Hartley. + +As a rule Hartley was not affected by the peculiarities of the people he +dealt with, but Leh Shin's assistant impressed him unpleasantly. +Everything he did was offensive, and his whole suggestion loathsome. +Hartley was still thinking of him when he looked at Leh Shin, who stood +blinking before him, awaiting his words patiently. + +"Now, Leh Shin, I want to ask you a few questions. Do you sell lacquer +in this shop?" + +The Chinaman indicated that he sold anything that anyone would buy. + +"Do you happen to know that Mhtoon Pah was looking for a bowl of gold +lacquer, and that he sent his boy Absalom here to get it?" + +Leh Shin shook his head. He was a poor man, and he knew nothing. +Moreover, he knew nothing of July the twenty-ninth, he did not count +days. He had not seen the boy Absalom. + +"Let me advise you to be truthful, Leh Shin," said Hartley. "You may be +called upon to give an account of yourself on the evening and night of +July the twenty-ninth." + +Leh Shin looked stolidly at the mildewed clothes and tried to remember, +but he failed to be explicit, and the greasy, obese creature, still +chewing, was recalled to assist his master's memory. He spoke in a high +chirping voice, and looked at Hartley with angry eyes as he asserted +that his master had been ill upon the evening mentioned and that he had +closed the shop early, and that he himself had gone to the nautch house +to witness a dance that had lasted until morning. + +"You can prove what you say, I suppose," said Hartley, speaking to Leh +Shin, "and satisfy me that the boy Absalom was not here, and did not +come here?" + +Leh Shin, moved to sudden life, protested that he could prove it, that +he could call half Hong Kong Street to prove it. + +"I don't want Hong Kong Street. I want a creditable witness," said +Hartley, and he turned to go. "So far as I know, you are an honest +dealer, Leh Shin, and I am quite ready to believe, if you can help me, +that you were ill that night, but I must have a creditable witness." + +When he left the shop, Leh Shin looked at the fat, sodden boy, and the +boy returned his look for a moment, but neither of them spoke, and a few +minutes later the door was bolted from within, and they were once more +alone in the shadows, with the rags, the broken portmanteaux, the relics +of art, and the animal smell, and Hartley was out in the street. He was +pretty secure in the belief that Leh Shin had not seen the boy, and that +he knew nothing of the gold lacquer bowl, but he also believed that +Mhtoon Pah had been far too crafty to tell the Chinaman that anyone +particularly wanted such a treasure of art. Mhtoon Pah, or his emissary, +would have priced everything in the shop down to the most maggot-eaten +rag before he would have mentioned the subject of lacquer bowls. + +There was no mystery connected with the bowl, but there was something +sickening about Leh Shin's shop, and something utterly horrible about +his assistant. Hartley wished he had not seen him, he wished that he had +remained in ignorance of his personality. He thought of him in the +sweating darkness he had left, and as he thought he remembered Mhtoon +Pah's wild, extravagant fancies, and they grew real to his mind. + +It was next to impossible to discover what the truth was about Leh +Shin's illness on the night of July the 29th, and it really did not bear +very much upon the matter, unless there was no other clue to what had +become of the boy. Hartley returned to other matters and put the case on +one side for the moment. On his way back for luncheon he looked in at +Mhtoon Pah's shop. He had intended to pass, but the sight of the little +wooden man ushering him up the steps made him turn and stop and then go +in. Mhtoon Pah sat on his divan in the scented gloom, very different to +the interior of Leh Shin's shop, and when he saw Hartley he struggled to +his feet and demanded news of Absalom. + +"There is none yet," said Hartley, sitting down. "Now, Mhtoon Pah, are +you quite sure that it was Mr. Heath that you saw that evening?" + +"I saw him with these eyes. I saw him pass, and he was going quickly. I +read the walk of men and tell much by it. The Reverend was in a great +hurry. Twice did he pull out his watch as he came along the street, and +he pushed through the crowd like a rogue elephant going through a rice +crop. I have seen the Reverend walking before, and he walked slowly, he +spoke with the _Babus_ from the Baptist mission, but this day," Mhtoon +Pah flung his hands to the roof, "shall I forget it? This day he walked +with speed, and when my little Absalom salaamed before him, he hardly +stopped, which is not the habit of the Reverend." + +"Did you see him come back? Mr. Heath, I mean?" + +Mhtoon Pah stood and looked curiously at Hartley, and remained in a +state of suspended animation for a second. + +"How could I see him come back?" he said, in a flat, expressionless +voice. "I went to the Pagoda, _Thakin_. I am building a shrine there, +and shall thereby acquire much merit. I did not see the Reverend return. +Besides, he might not have come by the way of Paradise Street." + +"He might not." + +"It is not known," said Mhtoon Pah, shaking his head dubiously, and then +rage seemed to flare up in him once more. "It is Leh Shin, the +Chinaman," he said, violently. "Let it be known to you, _Thakin_, they +eat strange meats, they hold strange revels. I have heard things--" he +lowered his voice. "I have been told of how they slay." + +"Then keep the information to yourself, unless you can prove it," said +Hartley, firmly. "I want to hear nothing about it." He got up and looked +around the shop. "I suppose you haven't got the lacquer bowl since?" + +"No, _Thakin_, I have not got it, neither have I seen Leh Shin, an evil +man. The Lady Sahib will have to wait; neither has she been here since, +nor asked for the bowl." + +Hartley walked down the steps; he was troubled by the thought, and the +more he tried to work out some definite theory that left Mr. Heath +outside the ring that he proposed to draw around his subject, the more +he appeared on the horizon of his mind, always walking quickly and +looking at his watch. + +Through lunch he went over the facts and faced the Heath question +squarely, considering that if Heath knew that the boy was in trouble, +and had connived at his escape, he would be muzzled, but there was +nothing to show that Absalom had ever broken the law. His employer, +Mhtoon Pah, was in despair at his disappearance, his record was +blameless, and he had been entrusted with the deal in lacquer to be +carried out the following morning. + +Looking for Absalom was like tracing a shadow that has passed along a +street on soundless feet, and Hartley felt an eager determination seize +him to catch up with this flying wraith. + +Still with the same idea in his mind, he drove along the principal +roads in his buggy, directing his way towards the bungalow where the +Rector of St. Jude's lived with Atkins, the Sapper. The house was draped +in climbing and trailing creepers, and the grass grew into the red drive +that curved in a half-circle from one rickety gate to another. He came +up quietly on the soft, wet clay, and looked up at the house before he +called for the bearer, and as he looked up he saw a face disappear +quickly from behind a window. After a few minutes the boy came running +down a flight of steps from the back, and hurried in to get a tray, +which he held out for the customary card. + +"Take that away," said Hartley, "and tell the Padre Sahib that I must +see him." + +"The Padre Sahib is out, Sahib." + +The boy still held the tray like a collecting-plate. + +"Out," said Hartley, "nonsense. Go and tell your master that my business +is important." + +After a moment the boy returned again, the tray still in his hand. + +"Gone out, Sahib," he said, resolutely, and without waiting for any more +Hartley turned the pony's head and drove out slowly. + +Twice in two days Heath had lied, to his certain knowledge, and as he +glanced back at the bungalow, a curtain in an upper window moved +slightly as though it had been dropped in haste. + +Just as he turned into the road he came face to face with Atkins, +Heath's bungalow companion, and he pulled up short. + +"I've been trying to call on the Padre," he said, carelessly, "but he +was out." + +"Out," said Atkins, in a tone of surprise. "Why, that is odd. He told me +he was due at a meeting at half-past five, and that he wasn't going out +until then. I suppose he changed his mind." + +"It looks like it," said Hartley, dryly. + +"He hasn't been well these last few days," went on Atkins, quickly, +"said he felt the weather, and he certainly seems ill. I don't believe +the poor devil sleeps at all. Whenever I wake, I can see his light in +the passage." + +"That is bad," Hartley's voice grew sympathetic. "Has he been long like +this?" + +"Not long," said Atkins, who was constitutionally accurate. "I think it +began about the night after the thunder-storm, but I can't say for +certain." + +"Well, I won't keep you." Hartley touched the pony's quarters with his +whip. "I'm sorry I missed Heath, as I wanted to see him about something +rather important." + +"I'll tell him," said Atkins, cheerfully, "and probably he'll look you +up at your own house." + +"Will he, I wonder?" thought the police officer, and he set to work upon +the treadmill of his thoughts again. + +There is nothing in the world so tantalizing, and so hard to bear, as +the conviction that knowledge is just within reach and that it is +deliberately withheld. Heath stood between him and elucidation, and the +more firmly the clergyman held his ground, and the more definitely he +blocked the path, the more sure Hartley became that he did so of set +purpose. + +"But _why_, _why_?" he asked himself, as he drove through the Cantonment +towards Mrs. Wilder's bungalow. + +Atkins got off his bicycle and handed it over to his boy as he arrived +at the dreary entrance. + +"The Padre Sahib is out?" he said, in his brisk, matter-of-fact tones. + +"The Padre Sahib is upstairs," said the boy, with an immovable face; and +Atkins went up quickly. + +"Hallo, Heath, I met Hartley just now, and he said you were out." + +Heath looked up from a sheet of paper laid out on the writing-table +before him. + +"I did not feel up to seeing Hartley," he said, a little stiffly. "It is +not a convenient hour for callers, so I availed myself of an excuse." + +"He told me to tell you that it was rather a pressing matter that +brought him here, and I said that I would give you his message, and that +you would probably go round to see him." + +"You said that, Atkins?" + +His face was so drawn and unnatural that Atkins looked at him in +surprise. + +"I suppose I was right?" + +"If Hartley wants to see me," said Heath, in a loud, angry voice, "or if +he wants to come bullying and blustering, he must write and make an +appointment. I have every right to protect myself from a man who asks +personal and most impertinent questions." + +"Hartley, impertinent?" Atkins' eyes grew round. + +"When I say impertinent, I mean not pertinent, or bearing upon any +subject that I intend to discuss with him." + +The Rev. Francis Heath got up and walked towards the window, turning his +back upon the room. + +"I don't mix in social politics," said Atkins, soothingly. "But at the +same time, I can't understand you, Heath. What the devil does Hartley +want to know?" + +The clergyman caught at the curtain and gripped it as he had gripped the +back of his chair at the Club. + +"Never ask me that again, Atkins," he said, in a low, hoarse voice. +"Never speak to me about this again." + +Atkins retreated quickly from the room; there was something in the +manner of the Rev. Francis Heath that he did not like, and he registered +a mental vow to let the subject drop, so far as he, a lieutenant in His +Majesty's Royal Engineers, was concerned, and never to allude to it, +either for "fear or favour," again. + + + + +IV + +INTRODUCES THE READER TO MRS. WILDER IN A SECRETIVE MOOD + + +Draycott Wilder was a man who hoarded his passions and concentrated them +upon a very few objects. His work came first, and his intense ambition, +and after his work, his wife. She was the right sort of wife for a man +who put worldly success first, and through the years of their marriage +had helped him a great deal more than he ever admitted. Clarice Wilder +was beautiful, and had a surface cleverness combined with a natural gift +of tact that made her an admirable hostess. She could talk to anybody +and send them away pleased and satisfied with themselves, and she had +made the best of Draycott for a good number of years. She had married +him when marriage seemed a big thing and a wonderful thing, and her +country home in Devonshire a small, breathless place where nothing ever +happened, and where life was one long Sunday at Home, and Draycott, back +from the East, had appeared as interesting as a white Othello. + +For a time she received all she needed out of life, and she threw +herself into her husband's promotion-hunger; understanding it, because +she, too, wanted to reign, and it gave her an inexplicable feeling of +respect for him, for Clarice knew that had she been born a man, she, +too, would have worked and schemed and pushed herself out into the front +of the ranks. She combined with him as only an ambitious woman can +combine, and she supplied all he lacked. It filled her mind, and she +never awoke the jealousy that lay like a sleeping python in the heart of +Draycott Wilder. It was when they were in India that Clarice, for the +first time, lost her grip and allowed her senses to get the better of +her common sense, and she became for a brief time a woman with a very +troublesome heart. Hector Copplestone, a young man newly come to the +Indian Civil Service, was sent to their Punjaub station. He made Mrs. +Wilder realize her own charm, he made her terribly conscious that she +was older than him, he made her anxious and distracted and madly, +idiotically in love with him. She forgot that there were other things in +life, she put aside ambition for a stronger temptation, and she did not +care what Draycott thought or supposed. + +No one ever knew what happened, but everyone guessed that Wilder had +made trouble. They left India under the same cloud of silence, and they +reappeared in Mangadone to outside eyes the same couple who had pulled +together for successful years of marriage; and if some whisper, for +whispers carry far in the East, came after them, no one regarded it, and +the Copplestone incident was considered permanently closed. Draycott +Wilder was the same silent man who was the despair of his dinner +partners, and Clarice had her old brilliancy and her old way of making +men pleased with themselves; and though some people, chiefly young +girls, described her as "hard," she represented a centre of attraction, +and her one mad year was a thing of the past. + +Among the men who went to the terraced house in its huge gardens, she +always particularly welcomed Hartley, the Head of the Police. He never +demanded effort, and he had a good nature and a flow of small talk. +Nearly every woman liked Hartley, though very few of them could have +said why. He had fair, fluffy hair and a pink face; he was just weak +enough to be easily influenced, and he fell platonically in love with +every new woman he met without being in the least faithless to the +others. Mrs. Wilder had a corner in her heart for him, and he, in +return, looked upon Mrs. Wilder as a brilliant and lovely woman very +much too good for Draycott. He did not know that he took his ideas from +her whenever she wished him to do so; Mrs. Wilder, like a clever +conjurer, palmed her ideas like cards, and upheld the principle of free +will while she did so, and if she had desired to impress Hartley with +fifty-two new notions he would have left her positive in his own mind +that they were his own. + +Thus, Clarice Wilder may be classed as that melodramatic type that goes +about labelled "dangerous," only she had the wit to take off the label +and to advertise herself under the guise of a harmless soothing mixture. + +The bungalow in which the Wilders lived was an immense place, standing +over a terraced garden beautifully planted with flowers. Steps, covered +with white marble, led from terrace to terrace, and down to a +jade-green lake where water-lilies blossomed and pink lotus flowers +floated. Dark green trees plumed with shaded purple flowers accentuated +the massed yellow of the golden laburnums. The topmost flight of steps +led up to the house, and was flanked on either side with variegated +laurel growing in sea-green pots, and the red avenue, that took its +lengthy way from the main road, curved into a wide sweep outside the +flower-hung veranda. + +Hartley arrived at the house just as Mrs. Wilder was having tea alone in +the big drawing-room, and she smiled up at him with her curious eyes, +that were the colour of granite. Without exactly knowing what her age +was, Hartley felt, somehow, that she looked younger than she was, and +that she did not do so without some aid from "boxes," but he liked her +none the less for that, and possibly admired her more. He sat down and +asked her how she was, and, as he looked at her, he wondered to think +that she had ever fainted. Clearly, she was the last woman on earth who +could be accused of Victorian ways, and to see her in her white lace +dress, dark, distinguished, and perfectly mistress of her emotions, was +to be bewildered at the memory. She treated the question with scant +ceremony, and remarked upon the fact that the night had been hot, and +that everyone had felt it. + +"I've got an excellent reason for remembering the date," said Hartley +reflectively. "By the way, wasn't Absalom, old Mhtoon Pah's assistant, +once a dressing-boy or something in your establishment?" + +"He was, and then he went sick, and took to this other kind of work." + +"He was quite honest, I suppose?" + +"Perfectly honest," said Mrs. Wilder, with a slight lift of her +eyebrows, "and a nice little boy. I hope that question doesn't mean that +you are professionally interested in his past?" she laughed carelessly. +"I am quite prepared to stand up for Absalom; he was the soul of +integrity." + +Hartley put down his cup on the table. + +"The boy has disappeared," he said, talking with interest, for the +subject filled his mind. + +"But when, and how? I saw him quite lately." + +Hartley's round, China-blue eyes fixed upon her. + +"Can you tell me when you saw him?" + +"One night--evening, I should say--I was out riding and I passed him +going towards the wharf, not towards the wharf exactly, but to the +houses that lie out by the end of the tram lines." + +"What evening? I wish you could remember for me." + +"It was the night of my own dinner-party." + +"Then that was July the twenty-ninth?" + +Mrs. Wilder looked at him, and bit her lip. + +"Was it the twenty-ninth?" Hartley repeated the question. + +"Probably it was, if you say so. I told you just now that I had Burma +head. But where has Absalom gone to?" + +Hartley took up his cup again and stirred the spoon round and round. + +"Forgive me for pelting you with questions, but did you see Mr. Heath +that evening?" + +"Now, what _are_ you trying to get out of me, Mr. Hartley? Did Mr. Heath +tell you that he had seen me?" + +Hartley stared at his feet. + +"Heath has got Burma head, too, and won't tell me anything. It might +help his memory if you were able to say whether you had seen him or not +that evening." + +Mrs. Wilder's fine eyes glittered into a smile that was not exactly +mirthful or pleasant. + +"I don't see that I can possibly say one way or another. I often do +. . . I often do see him going about the native quarter when I ride +through, but I do not write it down in my book, so it is quite +impossible for me to say." + +"Anyhow, you saw Absalom?" + +"Oh, yes, I saw the boy. What a persistent man you are, and you haven't +told me a word yourself." + +"Absalom was to have got a gold lacquer bowl that you ordered from +Mhtoon Pah?" + +"Quite correct," laughed Mrs. Wilder with more of her usual manner. +"That old Barabbas has never sent it to me yet, either. I ordered it a +month ago. I love lacquer because it looks like nothing else, and +particularly gold lacquer." + +"Well, all I can tell you is that Absalom had an order from Mhtoon Pah +to get the bowl the next morning, if it was to be got, and he went away +as usual the night of the twenty-ninth, and never appeared again. Heath +saw him, and you saw him, and that is pretty nearly all the evidence I +can collect." + +"Evidence?" Mrs. Wilder's voice had a piercing note in it. + +"Yes, evidence. You see the only way to trace a man is to find out +exactly who saw him last, and where." + +"Ah, I see. You find out what everyone was doing, and where they were, +and you piece the bits in. It's like a jig-saw, and how very interesting +it must be." + +Hartley laughed. + +"Not what the other people were doing exactly, but where they were. It +is something to know that you saw the boy, but I wish you could remember +if you saw Heath." + +Mrs. Wilder got up and walked to the window. + +"I do hope he will be found. Did he take my lacquer bowl with him?" + +"He had not got it," said Hartley, in his steady, matter-of-fact voice. + +"Are you _worried_ about it?" She turned and looked across the room. +"Why should you be? If Absalom has chosen to leave, I really don't see +why he shouldn't be allowed to go in peace." + +"I don't know that he did _choose_ to leave; that is just the point." + +He was longing to ask her another question about Heath, and yet he did +not like to press her. + +"Here are some callers," she remarked, and then, with a short laugh, "I +wonder if they were out and about that evening. If you go on like this, +Mr. Hartley, you will make yourself the most popular man in Mangadone. +Take my advice and let Absalom come back in his own way. Perhaps he is +looking for my bowl." She turned her head and glanced at some cards that +the bearer had brought in on a tray. "Show the ladies in, Gulab." + +In a few minutes the room was full of voices and laughter, and Mrs. +Wilder became unconscious of Hartley. She remained so unconscious of him +that he felt uncomfortable and began to wonder if he had offended her in +any way. He looked at her from time to time, and when he got up to go +she gave him her hand as though she was only just sure that he was +really there. + +The disappearance of Absalom was taking strange shapes in his mind, and +he had so far come to the conclusion that Heath knew something about +Absalom, and his visit to Mrs. Wilder added the puzzling fact to his +mental arithmetic that Mrs. Wilder knew something about Heath. It was +one thing to corner Heath, but Heath standing behind Mrs. Wilder's +protection, became formidable. + +Yet it was not in the Cantonment that Hartley expected to find any clue +to the vanished Absalom: it was down in the native quarter. Down there +where the Chinese eating-houses were beginning to fill, and where the +night life was only just awaking from its slumber of the day, was where +Absalom, the Christian boy, had last been seen, and it was there, if +anywhere, that he must be searched for and found. + +What possible connection could there be between an upright, Godly man +who went his austere way along the high, cold path of duty, and a woman +whose husband was madly grasping at the biggest prize of his profession? +What link could bind life with life, when lives were divided by such +yawning gulfs of space and class and race? To connect Mrs. Wilder with +Heath was almost as mad a piece of folly as to connect Absalom with the +clergyman, and yet, Hartley argued, he had not set out to do it. +Something that had not begun with any act or question of his had brought +about the junction of the ideas, and he felt like a man in a dark room +trying to make his way to the window, and meeting with unrecognizable +obstacles. + +The small tinkle of the church bell attracted his attention, and, +following a sudden whim, he went into the tin building and sat down near +the door. Mr. Heath did not look down the sparsely-filled church as he +read the evening service, and he prayed with an almost violent fervour. +Certainly to-night the Rev. Francis Heath was praying as though he was +alone, and the odd imploring misery of his voice struck Hartley.--"To +perceive and know the things that we ought to do, and to have grace and +power faithfully to fulfil the same." + +Heath's voice had broken into a kind of sob, the sound that tells of +strain and hysteria, but what was there in Mangadone to make a +respectable parson strained and hysterical? + + + + +V + +CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, FINDS THAT HIS MEMORY IS NOT TO BE TRUSTED + + +Just as Draycott Wilder stood high in the eyes of the Powers that govern +the Civil Service of India, so, too, in his own way, was Craven Joicey, +the Banker, a man with a solid reputation. If you build a reputation +solidly for the first half of a lifetime, it will last the latter half +without much attention or care, and, contrariwise, a bad beginning is +frequently stronger than any reformation, and stronger than integrity +that comes too late. + +Joicey had begun well, and had, as the saying goes, "made his way." He +was a large, heavy man, representative in figure and slow and careful of +speech. He kept the secrets of his bank, and he kept his own secrets, if +he had any, and was a walking tomb for confidences not known as +"tender." No one would have attempted to tell him their affairs of the +heart, but almost anyone with money to invest would go direct to Craven +Joicey. He had no wife, no child, and, as far as anyone knew, no kith or +kin, and he had no intimate friends. He had one of those strange, shut +faces; a mouth that told nothing, eyes that were nearly as +expressionless as the eyes of Mhtoon Pah, and he had no restless +movements. A plethoric man, Joicey, a man who got up and sat down +heavily, a man who looked at his business and not beyond it, and never +troubled Society. He probably knew that Heath lived in Mangadone, that +was if Heath banked with him; otherwise, he might easily not have known +it. + +He knew of the Wilders. He knew what Draycott Wilder owned, and he knew +that Mrs. Wilder had a very small allowance of her own, paid quarterly +through a Devonshire bank, but more than this he neither knew nor wished +to know of them, and he never went to their house. + +Joicey had not "worn well"; there was no denying that sweating years of +Burmese rains and hot weathers had made him prematurely old. His thick +hair was patched with white, and his face was flabby and yellow. Craven +Joicey was one of those men, who, if he had died suddenly, would have +made people remember that they always thought him unhealthy-looking. +There was nothing, romantic, exciting, or interesting about him; his +mind was a huge pass-book, and his brain a network of facts and figures. +He played no games, went only seldom to the Club, and knew no one in the +place better than he knew Hartley, which was little, but at any rate +Hartley dined once or twice in the year with him, and he occasionally +dined in return with the Head of the Police. + +Hartley was so occupied with his trouble of mind on the subject of +Absalom that he very nearly forgot that he had invited Joicey to dinner +the following Saturday. The police had discovered nothing whatever, and +he had received another visit at his house from the curio dealer. Mhtoon +Pah, in a condition bordering upon frenzy, stated that when he had stood +on his steps in the morning, intending to go to the Pagoda to offer alms +to the priests, he had noticed his wooden effigy and gone down to look +closer at him. The yellow man pointed as was his wont, but over the +pointing hand lay a rag soaked in blood. + +Mhtoon Pah, immense and splendid in his silk, had given forth wild +noises as he produced the rag, noises that reminded Hartley irresistibly +of the trumpeting of elephants, but they were terrible to hear. + +"It is enough," he said, his face quivering. "This is the work of the +Chinamen. They slit his veins, _Thakin_, they are doing it slowly. The +_Thakin_ can understand that Absalom still lives, his blood is fresh and +red, it is not dead blood that runs like treacle, it is living blood +that spouts out hot, and that steams and smokes. _Thakin_, _Thakin_, I +cry for vengeance." + +"I'm doing all I can, Mhtoon Pah," said Hartley, desperately. "I can't +go and arrest Leh Shin on suspicion, because there isn't a vestige of +suspicion attached to the man." + +"Not after this?" Mhtoon Pah pointed to the rag that lay loathsomely on +the table. + +"That may be goat's blood, or dog's blood; we can't say it is +Absalom's," objected Hartley. "Leave the horrid thing there, Mhtoon Pah, +and I will have it analysed later on." + +Mhtoon Pah gasped and beat his breast. + +"He was a good boy, he attended the Mission with regularity, and they +are doing terrible things. They wind wires around the finger-nails and +the toe-nails until they turn black and drop off. You do not know these +Chinamen, _Thakin_, as I know them. Have you seen the assistant of Leh +Shin?" + +Hartley wished that he had not; he frequently wished that he had never +seen that man. + +Mhtoon Pah bent near the Head of the Police and spoke in low, sibilant +tones: + +"He is a butcher's mate, _Thakin_. He is a slayer of flesh. He kills in +the shambles. Oh, it is true. I saw him slit the mouth of a dog with his +knife for his own mirth--" + +"Swine!" said Hartley. + +"Why he left there and went to live with Leh Shin is unknown. He has +secrets. He knows the best mixtures of opium, he knows--" + +"I don't want to hear what he knows." + +"He knows where Absalom is." + +"You only think that," said Hartley, roughly. "It is a dangerous thing +to make these assertions. It is only your idea, Mhtoon Pah." + +The Burman groaned aloud and held the rag between his hands. + +"Put that down," said Hartley. Mhtoon Pah's very agony of desire to find +the boy was almost disgusting, and he turned away from the sight. "There +is no use your staying here, and no use your coming, unless there is +more of this devil's work," he pointed to the blood-stained cloth. +"Leave the thing here, and I will see what the doctors have to say +about it." + +"_Thakin_, _Thakin_," said Mhtoon Pah. "The time grows late. My night's +rest is taken from me, and the Chinaman, Leh Shin, walks the roads. I +saw him from my place at sunset. I saw him go by like a cat that prowls +when night falls and it grows dark. He passed by my wooden image of a +dancing man, and he touched him as he passed--" he gave a despairing +gesture with his heavy hands. "Oh, Absalom, Absalom, my grief is heavy!" + +"He will be either found or accounted for," said Hartley, with a +decision and firmness he was far from feeling, and Mhtoon Pah, with bent +head, went away out of the room. + +The rain that had held off all day began to come down in pitiless +torrents, blown in by the wind, and fighting against bolts and bars. It +ruffled the muddy waters of the river, ran along the kennels of the +Chinese quarter, drove the inhabitants of Paradise Street indoors and +soused down over the Cantonment gardens, and battered on the travelling +carriage of Craven Joicey, that came along the road, a waterproof over +the pony's back and another covering the _syce_, and Joicey sat inside +the small green box, holding the window-strings under his heavy arms. + +Joicey was not a cheerful companion, and in his present mood Fitzgibbon, +the Barrister, would have suited Hartley better; but he had asked +Joicey, and Joicey was on his way, thinking about Bank business in all +probability, thinking of money lent out at interest, thinking of careful +ledgers and neat rows of figures, and certainly not in the least likely +to be thinking of the Chinese quarter, or of a person of so small +account, financially, as Absalom, the Christian native. The river or the +ships or the back lanes of Mangadone might swallow a thousand Absaloms +and make no difference to the Bank, and therefore none to Craven Joicey. + +Absalom, that shadow of the night, had gone to heaven or hell, and left +no bills behind, and it is by bills that some men's memories are +recorded. He was only another grain of red dust blown about by the wind +of Fate, and though the Rector of St. Jude's might consider that, having +been marked by the sign of the Cross, he was in some way different from +the rest, neither Craven Joicey nor Clarice Wilder could be expected to +take very much heed of the fact. + +All stories of disappearance, from time immemorial, have held interest, +and everyone has known of some case which has never been explained or +accounted for. Someone who got into a cab and never appeared again, and +left the impression that he had driven over the edge of the world into +space, for the cab, the cab driver, the horse, the vehicle and the +passenger inside were lost from that moment; someone who went for a +bicycle ride in England, and was found later selling old clothes in +Chicago; someone who went away by train, someone who went away by boat; +the world is full of instances, and they are always tinged with the +greatest mystery of all mysteries, because they foreshadow the ultimate +mystery that awaits the soul of man. For this universal reason, it +might be concluded that Joicey might listen with attention to the story +of Absalom, though his lowly station and his total lack of the most +necessary form of balance, very naturally made him merely a black cypher +of no special account in the eyes of a man of figures. + +Certainly Craven Joicey had not worn well. Hartley noticed it as he +stood taking off his scarf in the hall, and he noticed it again as the +Banker sat sipping a sherry and bitters under the strong light of the +electric lamp. He looked fagged and tired, and though he cheered up a +little as dinner went through, he relapsed into a heavy, silent mood +again, as if he was dragged at by thoughts that had power over him. + +"There is nothing the matter with you, is there, Joicey?" asked his +host. "You don't seem to be up to the mark." + +"What mark?" said Joicey, with a laugh. "Up to your mark, Hartley, or my +own mark, or someone else's mark? The average mark in Mangadone is low +water. There have been a lot of defaulters this year, and even admitting +that the place is rich, there is a good deal more insolvency about than +I like or than the directors care for. It keeps me grinding and +grinding, and wears the nerves." + +"By George," said Hartley, "I should have said that my own job was about +the most nerve-tattering of any. I had an interview with Mhtoon Pah this +afternoon that shook me up a bit." + +"Ah, I heard that his boy has disappeared." + +The door between the dining-and the drawing-room was thrown open, and +dinner announced as Joicey spoke, and the conversation took another +turn. Many things were bothering Joicey--the financial year generally, a +big commercial failure, the outlook for the rice crop--and as the meal +wore on he grew more dreary, and a pessimism that is part of some men's +minds tinged everything he touched. + +"Did Rydal's disappearance affect you at all, personally?" Hartley +asked, with some show of interest. + +"Not personally, but it cost the Bank close upon a quarter of a lakh." +Joicey drummed his square-topped fingers on the table. "I can't imagine +how he managed to get away." + +Hartley frowned. + +"I had all the landing-stages carefully watched, and the plague police +warned. He must have gone before the warrant was out, that is, if he has +ever left the country at all." + +Joicey shrugged his heavy shoulders. + +"In any case, the man's not much use to us, and the money has gone. I'm +not altogether sorry he got away." His eyes grew full of brooding +shadows and he sat silent, still tapping the cloth with his fingers. + +"It's an odd coincidence," said Hartley, and his face grew keen again. +"Mhtoon Pah's boy, Absalom, disappeared that same night. I wish you +could tell me, Joicey, if you saw Heath that evening when you went down +Paradise Street. It was the same evening that the Bank laid their +information against Rydal, the twenty-ninth." + +Joicey had just poured himself out a glass of port, and was raising it +to his lips as Hartley spoke, and the hand that held the glass jerked +slightly, splashing a little of the wine on to the front of his white +shirt. Joicey did not set the glass back on to the table, he held it +between him and the light, and eyed it, or, rather, it should be said +that he watched his own hand, and when he saw that it was quite steady +he set down the wine untasted. + +"Paradise Street? I never go down there. I wasn't in Mangadone that +night," his face was dead white with a sick, leprous whiteness. "If +Heath said he saw me, Heath was wrong." + +"Heath didn't say so," said Hartley. "It was the policeman on duty at +the corner who said that he had seen you." + +"I tell you I wasn't in the place," said Joicey again. + +Hartley coughed awkwardly. + +"Well, if you weren't there, you weren't there," he said, pacifically. + +"And Heath, what did Heath say?" + +"I told you he said nothing, except that he had seen Absalom. I can't +understand this business, Joicey; directly I ask the smallest question +about that infernal night of July the twenty-ninth I am always met in +just the same way." + +"I know nothing about it," said Joicey, shortly. "I wasn't here and I +don't know what Heath was doing, so there's no use asking me questions +about him." + +The Banker relapsed into his former dull apathy, and leaned back in his +chair. + +"I've had insomnia lately," he said, after a perceptible pause. "It +plays the deuce with one's nerves. I believe I need a change. This +cursed country gets into one's bones if one stays out too long. I've +forgotten what England looks like and I've got over the desire to go +back there, and so I rot through the rains and the steam and the tepid +cold weather, and it isn't doing me any good at all." + +They walked into the drawing-room, Hartley with his hand on Joicey's +shoulder. The Banker sat for a little time making a visible effort to +talk easily, but long before his usual hour for leaving he pulled out +his watch and looked at it. + +"It may seem rude to clear off so soon, but I'm tired, Hartley, and +shall be much obliged if I may shout for my carriage." + +He looked tired enough to make any excuse of exhaustion or ill-health +quite a valid one, and Hartley was concerned for his friend. + +"Don't overdo it, Joicey," he said. + +"Overdo what?" + +Joicey got up with the heavy lift of an old, weary man, and yet there +was not two years between him and Hartley. + +"The insomnia," said Hartley. + +"Good night," replied Joicey shortly, and closed the carriage-door +behind him. + +He drove along the dark roads, his arms in the window-straps and his +head bent forward. The head of the Mangadone Banking Firm was suffering, +if not from insomnia, from something that was heavier than the heaviest +night of sleeplessness, and something that was darker than the dark +road, and something that was deep as the brown waters that carried +outgoing craft to sea. + + + + +VI + +TELLS HOW ATKINS EXPLAINS FACTS BY PEOPLE AND NOT PEOPLE BY FACTS, AND +HOW HARTLEY, HEAD OF THE POLICE, SMELLS THE SCENT OF APPLE ORCHARDS +GROWING IN A FOOL'S PARADISE + + +Social life went its way in Mangadone much as it had before the 29th of +July, but Hartley was not allowed to rest and feel comfortable and easy +for very long. Mhtoon Pah waylaid him in the dark when he was riding +home from the Club, and waited for him for hours in his bungalow. Like +his own shadow, Mhtoon Pah followed him and dogged his comings and +goings, always with the same imploring tale, but never with any further +evidence. Leh Shin was officially watched, and Leh Shin's assistant was +also under the paternal eye of authority, but all that authority could +discover about him was that he led a gay life, gambled and drugged +himself, hung about evil houses, and had been seen loitering in the +vicinity of the curio shop; but, as Paradise Street was an open +thoroughfare, he had as much right to be there as any leprous beggar. + +Hartley's peace of mind was soon shattered again, this time by a new +element that Hartley had not thought of, and so he was caught in another +net without any previous warning. + +Atkins, the rector of St. Jude's bungalow companion, was a dry little +man, adhering to simple facts, and neither a sensationalist nor an +alarmist; therefore his words had weight. He was a small man, always +dressed in clothes a little too small, with his whole mind given up to +the subject of his profession; besides which he was religious, a +non-smoker, a teetotaller, and particular upon these points. + +Being but little in the habit of going into Mangadone society, he seldom +met Hartley except at the Club, and it was there that he ran him into a +corner and asked for a word or two in private. Hartley took him out into +the dim green space where basket chairs were set at intervals, and +drawing two well away from the others, sat down to listen. + +Sweet scents were wafted up on the evening air, and drowsy, dark clouds +followed the moonlike heavy wisps of black cotton-wool, drowning the +light from time to time and then clearing off again; and all over the +grass, glimmering groups of men in white clothes and women in trailing +skirts filled the air with an indistinct murmur of sound. + +"It is understood at the outset," began Atkins, clearing his throat with +a crowing sound, "that what I have to say is said strictly in a private +and confidential sense. I only say it because I am driven to do so." + +Hartley's basket chair squeaked as he moved, but he said nothing, and +Atkins dropped his voice into an intimate tone and went on: + +"You came to see Heath one day lately, and I told you he was ill. Well, +so he was, but there are illnesses of the mind as well as of the body, +and Heath was mind-sick. I am a light sleeper, Hartley. I wake at a +sound, and twice lately I have been awakened by sounds." + +"The _Durwan_," suggested Hartley. + +"Not the _Durwan_. If it had been, I would not have spoken to you about +it. Heath has been visited towards morning by a man, and it was the +sound of voices that awoke me. It is no business of mine to pry or to +talk, and I would say nothing if it were not that I admire and respect +Heath, and I believe that he is in some horrible difficulty, out of +which he either will not, or cannot, extricate himself." + +"Who was the man?" + +Atkins ignored the question. + +"I admit that I listened, but I overheard almost nothing, except just +the confused sounds of talking in low voices, but I heard Heath say, 'I +will not endure it, I am bearing too much already.' I think he spoke +more to himself than to the man in his room, but it was a ghastly thing +to hear, as he said it." + +"Go on," said Hartley. "Tell me exactly what happened." + +"I heard the door on to the back veranda open, and I heard the sound of +feet go along it--bare feet, mind you, Hartley--and then I went to +sleep. That was a week ago." + +"And something of the same nature has occurred since?" + +Atkins dried his hands with his handkerchief. + +"I said something to Heath at breakfast about having had a bad night, +and he got up at once and left the table. After that nothing happened +until last night. I had been out all day, and came home dog-tired. I +turned in early and left Heath reading a theological book in the +veranda. I said, I remember, 'I'm absolutely beat, Padre; I have had +enough to-day to give me nine or ten hours without stirring,' and he +looked up and said, 'Don't complain of that, Atkins; there are worse +things than sound sleep.' It struck me then that he hadn't known what it +was for weeks, he looked so gaunt and thin, and I thought again of that +other night that we had neither of us spoken about." + +"Heath never explained anything?" + +"No, I never asked him to." + +"What happened then?" Hartley's voice was hardly above a whisper, and he +leaned close to Atkins to listen. + +"I slept for hours, fairly hogged it until it must have been two or +three in the morning, judging by the light, and then I awoke suddenly, +the way one wakes when there is some noise that is different to usual +noises, and after a moment or two I heard the sound of voices, and I got +out of bed and went very quietly into the veranda. Heath's lamp was +burning, his room is at the far end from mine, and I stood there, +shivering like a leaf out of sheer jumps. I had a regular 'night attack' +feeling over me. I heard a chair pushed back, and I heard Heath say in a +low voice 'If you come here again, or if you dog me again, I'll hand you +over to the police,' and the man laughed. I can't describe his laugh; +it was the most damnable thing I ever listened to, and I thought of +running in, but something stopped me, God knows why. 'Take your pay,' +said Heath; I heard him say it, and then I heard the door open again, +and the same sound of feet." He shivered. "They stopped outside my room, +and I caught the outline of a head, a huge head and enormous, heavy +shoulders, and then he was gone." + +"Why the devil didn't you raise the alarm?" Hartley's voice was angry. +"You've got a policeman on the road. Why didn't you shout?" + +"Because I was thinking of Heath," said Atkins a little stiffly. "He is +the man we have both got to think about. Some devil of a native is +blackmailing him, and Heath is one of the best and straightest men I +know. Not one item of all this mystery goes against him in my mind, but +what I want you to do, is to have the bungalow watched." + +"I shall certainly do that," said Hartley with decision. "And as for +your opinion of Heath--well, it strikes me as curious that a man of good +character should be a mark for blackmail." + +"I explain facts by people, not people by facts," said Atkins hotly. +"And I have told you--" + +"I think it is only fair to say that you have told me something that +lays Heath under suspicion," said Hartley, slowly. "He behaved very +oddly, lately, when I asked him a simple question, and he chose to +refuse to see me when I went to his house. All that was a small matter, +but what you tell me now is serious." + +"Serious for Heath, and for that very reason I particularly want him +protected. But as for suspicion, I know the man thoroughly, and that is +quite absurd." Atkins got up and terminated the interview. "It is absurd +to talk of suspicion," he said again, irritably. "I hope you will drop +that attitude, Hartley. If I had imagined for a moment that you were +likely to adopt it, I should have kept my mouth shut." + +He went away, his narrow shoulders humped, and his whole figure +testifying to his annoyance, and Hartley sat alone, watching the +moonlight and thinking his own thoughts. He was interrupted by a woman's +voice, and Mrs. Wilder sat down in the chair left vacant by Atkins. + +"What are you pondering about, Mr. Hartley? Are you seeing ghosts or +moon spirits? You certainly give the idea that you are immensely +preoccupied." + +"Do I?" Hartley laughed awkwardly. "Well, as a matter of fact, I was not +thinking of anything very pleasant." + +"Can I help?"--her voice was very soft and alluring. + +"No one can, I am afraid." + +She touched his arm with a little intimate gesture, and her eyes shone +in the moonlight. + +"How can you say that? If I were in any sort of fix, or in any sort of +trouble, I would ask you to advise me, and to tell me what to do, before +I would go to anyone else, even Draycott, and why should you leave me +outside your worries?" + +"You see, that's just it, they aren't exactly mine. If they were I +would tell you, but I can't tell you, because what I was thinking about +was connected entirely with someone else." + +Mrs. Wilder's eyes narrowed, and she lifted her slightly pointed nose a +very little. + +"Ah, now you make me inquisitive, and that is most unfair of you. Don't +tell me anything, Mr. Hartley, except just the name of the person +concerned. I'm very safe, as you know. Could you tell me the name, or +would it be wrong of you?" + +"The name won't convey very much to you," said Hartley, laughing. "I was +thinking of the Padre, Heath. That doesn't give you much clue, does it?" + +It was too dark for him to see a look that sprang into Mrs. Wilder's +eyes, or perhaps Hartley might have found a considerable disparity +between her look and her light words. + +"Poor Mr. Heath, he is one of those terribly serious, conscientious +people, who go about life making themselves wretched for the good of +their souls. He ought to have lived in the Middle Ages. I won't ask you +_why_ you are thinking about him"--she got up and lingered a little, and +Hartley rose also--"but you know that you should not think of anyone +unless you want to make others think of them, too; it isn't at all safe. +I shall have to think of Mr. Heath all the way home, and he is _such_ a +gaunt, scraggy kind of thought." + +"I wish I could replace him with myself," said Hartley, in a burst of +admiration. + +Mrs. Wilder accepted his compliment graciously and walked across the +grass to the drive, where her car panted almost noiselessly, as is the +way of good cars, and he put her in with the manner of a jeweller +putting a precious diamond pendant into a case. He watched the car +disappear, and considered that some men are undeservedly lucky in this +life. + +Hartley was nearly forty, that dangerously sentimental age, and he began +to wonder if, by chance, he had met Clarice Wilder years ago in a +Devonshire orchard, life might not have been a wonderful thing. He +called her a "sweet woman" in his mind, and it was almost a pity that +Mrs. Wilder did not know, because her sense of humour was subtle and +acute, and she would have thoroughly enjoyed the description of herself. +She could read Hartley as quickly as she could read the telegrams in the +_Mangadone Times_, and she could play upon him as she played upon her +own grand piano. + +She had not asked any questions, and she knew nothing of what Atkins had +said about Heath; but her face was set and tense as she drove towards +her bungalow. She was certainly thinking very definitely, quite as +definitely as Hartley had been thinking as he watched the moonlight +playing hide-and-seek with the shadows of the palm branches and the +darkness of the trees, and her thoughts left no pleasant look upon her +face or in her eyes; and yet Hartley, on his way to the bungalow where +he lived, was thinking of her in a white dress and a shady hat, with a +fleecy blue and white sky overhead and the scent of apple-blossom in the +air. + +The power of romance is strong in adolescence, but it is stronger still +when the turnstile of years is reached and there is finality in the air. +Hartley was built for platonics; Fate gave him the necessary touch of +the commonplace that dispels romance and replaces it with a kind of +deadly domesticity; and yet Hartley was unaware of the fact. + +He had never thought of being "in love" with Mrs. Wilder, partly because +he felt it would be "no use," and partly because she had never seemed to +expect it from him, but as he walked along the road he began to find +that her manner had of late altered considerably. She seemed to take an +interest in him, and though she had always been his friend, her new +attitude was charged with invisible electricity. + +So far as Mrs. Wilder was concerned, Hartley was to her what a sitting +hen would be to a sporting man. You couldn't shoot the confiding thing; +but you might wring its neck if necessary, or push it out of the way +with an impatient foot. She knew her power over him to a nicety, and she +knew of his secret desire for "situations," because her instinct was +never at fault; but she felt nothing more than contempt, slightly +charged with pity towards him. Hartley was a good-natured, idiotic man, +and Hartley had principles; Clarice Wilder had none herself, though she +felt that they were definite factors in any game, but she also believed +that principles were things that could be got over, or got at, by any +woman who knew enough about life to manage such as Hartley. + +All the same, it was not of Hartley that she thought. She had been quite +truthful when she said that he had suggested Heath to her mind, and +that she would have to consider his gaunt face and hollow cheeks during +her drive. + +If he had sat on the vacant seat beside her, the Rev. Francis Heath +could hardly have been more clearly before her eyes, and could hardly +have drawn her mind more strongly, and it was because of her thought of +him that she preserved her steady look and strange eyes. + +A strong woman, a woman with character, a woman who once she saw her +way, was able to follow it faithfully, wherever it twisted, wherever it +wound, and wherever it eventually brought her. No one could picture her +flinching or turning back along a road she had set out to follow; if it +had run in blood, she would have gone on in bare feet, not picking her +steps, and yet Hartley dreamed of apple orchards and an Eve in a white +muslin dress. + + + + +VII + +FINDS THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH READING GEORGE HERBERT'S POEMS, AND LEAVES +HIM PLEDGED TO A POSSIBLY COMPROMISING SILENCE + + +The Reverend Francis Heath was sitting in his upstairs room, for of late +he had avoided the veranda. It was the leisure hour of the day, the slow +hour when the light wanes and it is too early to call for a lamp; the +hour when memory or fear can both be poignant in tropical climates. + +The house was very still, Atkins had gone to the Club and the servants +had all returned to their own quarters. Outside, noises were many. +Birds, with ugly, tuneless notes that were not songs but cries, flitted +in the trees, and the rumble of traffic on the road came up in the +evening air, broken occasionally by the shrill persistence of an exhaust +whistle or the clamour of a motor-horn, and above all other sounds the +long-drawn, occasional hoot from a ship anchored in the river highway. +There was noise, and to spare, outside, but within everything was still, +except for the chittering of a nest of bats in the eaves, and the +sudden, relaxing creak of bamboo chairs, that behave sometimes as though +ghosts sat restlessly in their arms. + +The sunlight that fell into the garden and caught its green, turning it +into flaming emerald, climbed in at Mr. Heath's window, and lay across +his writing-table; it touched his shoulder and withdrew a little, +touched the lines on his forehead for a moment, touched the open book +before him, and fell away, followed by a shadow that grew deeper as it +passed. It faded out of the garden like a memory that cannot be held +back by human striving. The distances turned into shadowy blue, and from +blue to purple, until only a few flecks of golden light across the +pearl-silver told that it was gone eternally; that its hour was spent, +for good or ill, and that Mangadone had come one evening nearer to the +end of measureless Time; but the Rev. Francis Heath did not regard its +going. His face was sad with a terrible, tragic sadness that is the +sadness of life and not death, and yet it was of death and not of life +that he thought. A little book of George Herbert's poems lay open before +him and he had been reading it with a scholar's love of quaint +phraseology: + + "I made a posy, while the days ran by; + Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie + My life within this band. + But Time did beckon to the flowers, and they, + By noon, most cunningly did steal away, + And wither'd in my hand." + +He read the lines over and over again, and gave a deep, heart-broken +sigh, bending his face between his hands, and bowing his shoulders as +though under a heavy weight. His gaunt frame was thin and spare, his +black alpaca coat hung on it like a sack, and his whole attitude spoke +of sorrow. He might have been the presentment of an unwilling ghost, who +stood with the Ferryman's farthing under his palm, waiting to be taken +across the cheerless, dark waters to a limbo of drifting souls. He took +his hands from before his face and clasped them over the book, looking +out of the window to the evening shadows, as if he tried to find peace +in the very act of contemplation. + +The sad things he came in daily contact with had conquered his faith in +life, though they had not succeeded in killing his trust in God's +eventual plan of redemption; and his mind wandered in terrible places, +places he had forced his way into, places he could never forget. He +suffered from all a reformer's agony, an agony that is the small +reflection of the great story of the mystic burden heavy as the sins of +the whole world, and he tried, out of the simple, childlike fancy of the +words he read, to grasp at a better mind. + +Heath was one of those men who could not understand effortless faith; he +was crushed by his own lack of success, and bowed down by his own +failure. Since he could not rout the enemy single-handed, he believed +that the battle was against the Hosts of the Lord. He knew no leisure +from the war of his own thoughts, and as he clasped his hands, his face +grew tense and set, and his eyes haggard and terrible. For a moment he +sat very still, and his eyes followed the lines written by a man who had +the faith of a little child: + + "But Time did beckon to the flowers, and they, + By noon, most cunningly did steal away." + +Heath had never gathered flowers, either as a lesson to himself or a +gift for others; they hardly spoke of careless beauty to him, they were +emblems of lightness and thoughtlessness, and Heath had no time to stop +and consider the lilies of the field. + +He moved suddenly like a man who is awakened from a thought heavier than +sleep, and listened with a hunted look, the look of a man who is afraid +of footsteps; he stood up, gathering his loose limbs together and +watching the door. Steps came up the staircase, steps that stumbled a +little, and if Heath had possessed Mhtoon Pah's art of reading the walk +of his fellow creatures, he would have known that he might expect a +woman and not a man. + +"Mr. Heath," a low voice called in the passage, and Heath's tension +relaxed, giving place to surprise. + +The voice was strange to him, and he passed his handkerchief over his +face and walked to the door, just as his name was called again, in the +same low, penetrating voice. + +"Who wants me?" he asked, almost roughly, and then he saw a tall, dark +woman standing at the top of the staircase. + +"Mrs. Wilder," he said in surprise, and she made a little imperious +movement with her hand. + +"I did not call your servant, I came up, because I wanted to find you +alone. You are alone?" + +"Certainly, I am alone." + +"May I come in?" + +Heath held the door open for her to pass, and she walked in, looking +around the darkening room with hard, curious eyes. + +She took the chair he gave her, in silence, and sat down near the +writing-table, and, feeling that she would speak after a time, Heath +took his own place again and waited. + +"I hardly know where to begin," she said, always speaking in the same +low, intent voice. "Do you recall the evening of the twenty-ninth?" + +An odd spasm caught Heath's face, and he paused for a moment before he +answered. + +"I do recall it." + +"Perhaps you remember seeing me? I was riding along the road when I +first passed you, and you were walking." + +"I remember that I did pass you then, and also that I saw you later." + +Heath's sombre eyes were on her face, and his fingers touched a gold +cross that hung from his watch-chain. + +"You passed me, and you passed Absalom, the Christian boy, and you have +been questioned about Absalom." + +"I have," he said heavily. "Why do you ask?" + +Mrs. Wilder took a quick breath. + +"Because I am afraid that you may be asked again. You understand, Mr. +Heath, that I know it was the merest chance that brought you there that +evening, but, as you were there, and as Mr. Hartley has got it into his +head that you know something more than you have told him, I beg of you +to bear in mind that if you mention my name you may get me into serious +trouble. You would not do that willingly, I think?" + +"I certainly would not. What motive took you there is a question for +your own conscience. It is not for me to press that question, Mrs. +Wilder." + +She pressed her lips together tightly. + +"I went there to see an old friend who was in great trouble." + +"And yet you have to keep it secret?" + +"Haven't we all our secrets, Mr. Heath?" Her voice was raised a little. +"Will you pledge me your solemn word to keep this knowledge from anyone +who asks?" She put her elbows on the table and drew closer to him. + +"I will respect your confidence," he said slowly. "But is it likely that +Hartley will ask me?" + +Mrs. Wilder made a gesture of denial. + +"I _think_ not, but who can tell? This thing has been like lead on my +mind and will not let me rest. Oh, Mr. Heath, if you knew what I have +already paid, you would be sorry for me." + +"I am sorry," he said gently. "More sorry for you than you can tell. +You, too, saw Absalom, and spoke to him?" + +"He has nothing to do with what I came here about,"--her tone grew +impatient. "I only wanted to make sure that I was safe with you. It was +no little thing that drove me to come. I am a proud woman, Mr. Heath, +and I do not usually ask favours, yet I ask you now--" + +"Not a favour," he said, taking her up quickly. "God knows I have every +reason to help you if I can. Does Hartley suspect you? Does he question +you? Does he try to wring admissions out of you?" + +In the darkness Heath's voice rang hard and, metallic, like the voice of +a man whose thoughts return upon something that maddens him. + +"He has not done so, but he has asked me questions that made me +frightened. It is a terrible thing to be afraid." + +"And Joicey?" said Heath in a quiet voice. "I saw Joicey, but he did not +stop to speak to me. Has he, too, been interrogated?" + +"So far as I know, he has not. But this question presses only on me. +What took you there is, I feel sure, easily accounted for, and what took +Mr. Joicey there is not likely to be a matter of the smallest +importance; it is _I_ who suffer, it is on me that all this weight lies. +If the police begin investigations they come close upon the fact that I +went there to meet a man whom my husband has forbidden me to meet. Any +little turn of evidence that involves me, any little accident that +obliges me to admit it, and I am lost,"--her voice thrilled and pleaded. + +"It is you who are lost," he echoed dully. "I can understand how you +feel. If I can ease your burden or lessen the anxiety you suffer from, +you may depend upon me, Mrs. Wilder. This matter is a dark road where I, +too, walk blind, not knowing the path I follow, but, at least, I can +give you my word that under no circumstances shall I be led to mention +your name. You can be sure of that, Mrs. Wilder. If I can add your +trouble to my own burden I shall not feel its weight, but I would +counsel you to be honest with your husband. Tell him the truth." + +"I will," said Mrs. Wilder, with an acquiescence that came too quickly. +"I assure you that I will, but even when I do, you see what a position +the least publicity places me in?" + +Heath got up and paced the floor with long, restless strides. + +"Publicity. The open avowal of a hidden thing; the knowledge that the +whole world judges and condemns, and does not understand." + +"That is what I feel." + +After all, he was more human than she had expected. Clarice Wilder had +looked upon the Rev. Francis as a hermit, an ascetic, whose +comprehension was limited; and her eyes grew keen as she watched his +gaunt figure. + +"To be dragged down, to be accused, to be cast so low," he continued, in +his sad, heavy voice, "so low that the lowest have cause to deride and +to scorn." He stopped before her. "Is it true that I can save you from +that?" + +"It is true." + +She did not tell him that she had lied to Draycott; it did not appear +necessary; neither did she tell him that Draycott's memory was long and +sure and unerring. + +"Then, if there is one man in all God's universe,"--Heath cast out his +arms as he spoke--"one man above all others whom you could appeal to, +could trust most entirely, that man is myself. Give me your burden, your +distress of mind, and I will take them; I cannot say more--" + +"Of course, it may never be necessary for you to--to avoid telling Mr. +Hartley," broke in Mrs. Wilder quickly. Heath was getting on her nerves, +and she rose to her feet. "I cannot thank you sufficiently, and I fear +that I have upset you, made you feel my own cares too profoundly,"--her +voice grew almost tender. "I have never known such ready sympathy, but +you feel too intensely, Mr. Heath. You make my little trouble your own, +and you have made me very grateful. Are you in any trouble yourself?" + +Heath stopped for a moment, an outline against the light of the window. +She thought he was going to speak, and she waited with an odd feeling of +excitement to hear what was coming, when he suddenly retired back into +his usual manner. + +A light was travelling up the staircase, casting great shadows before +it, and when the boy came to the door of the Padre Sahib's room, he saw +his master saying good-bye to a tall, dark lady who smiled at him and +gave him her hand. + +"Good night, Mr. Heath, I hardly know how to thank you sufficiently." + +She hurried down the staircase, and as she walked out, she met Atkins +coming in on his bicycle. He jumped off as he saw her, and spoke in +surprise. + +"I have just been calling on the Padre," replied Mrs. Wilder pleasantly, +as he commented with ever-ready tactlessness upon her presence in the +Compound. "One of my servants is ill; a member of his community. By the +way, do you think that Mr. Heath is quite well himself?" + +"Indeed I do not think so. He overworks. I have a great admiration for +Heath." + +"He must be rather depressing in the rains," she said, with a careless +laugh. "He positively gave me the shivers. I can hardly envy you boxed +up there with him. I believe he sees ghosts, and I think they must be +horrid ghosts or he couldn't look as he does." + +Her car was waiting down the road, and Atkins walked beside her and saw +her get in. Mrs. Wilder was very charming to him; she leaned out and +smiled at him again. + +"Do take care of the Padre," she called as she drove off. + +"There goes a sensible, good-looking woman," thought Atkins, and he +thought highly of Mrs. Wilder for her visit to Heath. He said so to the +Rector of St. Jude's as they dined together, remarking on the fact that +very few women bothered about sick servants, and he was surprised at the +cold lack of enthusiasm with which Heath accepted his remark. + +"That was what she said?" + +"Yes, and I call it unusual in a country where servants are treated like +machines. I've never known Mrs. Wilder very well, but she is an +interesting woman; don't you think so, Heath?" + +"I don't know," said Heath absently. "I never form definite opinions +about people on a slight knowledge of them." + +Atkins felt snubbed, but he only laughed good-naturedly, and Heath +relapsed into silence. + +Mrs. Wilder was dining out that night, and she looked so superbly +handsome and so defiantly well that everyone remarked upon her; and even +Draycott Wilder, who might have been supposed to be used to her beauty +and her wit, watched her with his slow, following look. Hartley was not +at the dinner-party, but afterwards echoes of its success reached him, +and a description of Mrs. Wilder herself that thrilled his romantic +sense as he listened. + +Hartley was worried about the Padre, and he had warned the policeman to +watch the Compound at night; but all the watching in the world did not +explain the cause of these visits. There was a connection somewhere and +somehow between Heath and the missing Absalom, and Hartley wondered if +he could venture to speak to Mrs. Wilder again about the night of the +29th of July, and implore her to let him know if she had seen Heath with +Absalom. + +It seemed, judging by what Atkins had heard, that Heath was paying for +silence, and Hartley disliked the idea of working up evidence against +the Padre. The more he thought of it the less he liked it, and yet his +duty and his sense of responsibility would not let him rest. Mrs. Wilder +had said that she had seen Heath and Absalom, and had then refused to +say anything more, but Hartley saw in her reserve a suggestion of +further knowledge that could not be ignored or denied. + +Mhtoon Pah was quieter for the moment. He believed that Leh Shin was +being cautiously tracked, and the pointing image had held no further +traces of bloodshed upon his yellow hands. Hartley had grown to loathe +the grinning figure, and to loathe the whole tedious, difficult tragedy +of the lost boy. If it had lain in the native quarter he could have +found interest in the excitement of the chase, but if it ramified into +the Cantonment, Hartley had no mind for it. He was a man first, a +sociable, kindly man, and, later, an officer of the law. + + + + +VIII + +SHOWS HOW THE CLOAK OF DARKNESS OF ONE NIGHT HIDES MANY EMOTIONS, AND +MRS. WILDER IS FRANKLY INQUISITIVE + + +Darkness brooded everywhere, but the gloom of night is a darkness that +is impenetrable only to our eyes because we creatures of the hard glare +of daylight cannot see in the strange clearness that brings out the +stars. Only in the houses of men real darkness has its habitation. Under +close roofs, confined within walls, shut into rooms, and lurking in +corners: there, darkness may be found, and because man made it, it has +its own special terror, as have all the creatures of man's hand. Dark, +menacing and noiseless, the shadows flock in as daylight wanes, filing +up like heavy thoughts and sad thoughts, and casting a gloom with their +coming that is not the blackness of earth's restful night. + +Mrs. Wilder paced her room with the steps of a woman whose heart drives +sleep out with scorpion-whips of memory; and she went softly, for sound +travels far at night, and Draycott Wilder, in the next room, was a light +sleeper. She was thinking steadily, and she was trying to force her will +across the distance into the stronghold of Hartley's inner +consciousness. + +Night brought no more rest to Mrs. Draycott Wilder than it did to Craven +Joicey, the Banker, but Joicey did not sit in the dark. Madness lies in +the dark for some minds, and he had turned on the electric light, that +showed his face yellow and weary. On the wall the lizards, awakened by +the sudden glare, resumed their fly-catching, and scuttled with a dry, +scurrying sound over the walls, breaking the silence with a perpetual +"chuck-chuck" as they chased each other. Joicey looked as though he was +dreaming evil dreams, and nothing of his surroundings was real to him. +The room became another room, the tables and chairs grew indistinct, the +face of a small _Gaudama_ on the mantel-piece became a living face that +menaced him, and the "chuck-chuck" of the lizards, the rattle of dice +falling on to a board at some remote distance miles and miles away, and +yet strangely audible to his dull ears. Still he sat there, and flashes +of fancies came and went. Sometimes he stood in an English garden, with +a far-away sunlit glimpse of glittering waters, and a cuckoo crying in a +wood of waving trees, and then he knew that he was a boy, and that he +had forgotten everything that had happened since; and then, without +warning, he was swept out of the garden and stood under Eastern trees, +lost in a wild place, with the haunting face of the image at his +shoulder. The face altered. Sometimes it was Mhtoon Pah's pointing man, +and what he pointed at was never clear. The mistiness bothered him +horribly. + +The _Durwan_ outside played on a wistful little flute, thinking that his +master was asleep; he heard it, and it did not concern him; he was dead +to all outward things just then, and the flute only added to the mystery +of the dream that spun itself in his brain. He wandered in a place so +near actual things and yet so far from them, that the gigantic mistake +of it all, and the consciousness that the inner life could at times +conquer the outer life, made him fall away between the two conditions, +lost and helpless. His head nodded forward, and his lower lip dropped, +and yet his eyes were open, as he sat facing the small squatting Buddha, +whose changeless face changed only for him. + +The three little flute-notes tripped out after each other with no +semblance at a tune, repeating and reiterating the sound in the dark +outside, and Joicey listened as though something of weight depended upon +his hearing steadily. The sound was the one thing that made him know +that he was real, and once it ceased, or he ceased to hear it, he would +be across the gulf and terribly lost; a mind without a body, let loose +in a world where there were no landmarks, no known roads, nothing but +windy space, and he was afraid of that place, and feared terribly to go +there. + +Something shuffled on the stone veranda, another sound, and sound was of +value to Craven Joicey, since it made a vital note in the circling +numbness around him. He could hear whispering voices, and the thump of +the _Durwan's_ stick, as that musically-minded man walked round to the +back of the house, where his lighted window showed that Craven Joicey +did not sleep. Again a voice whispered, and a low sound of discreet +knocking followed. + +Joicey sprang up and called out hoarsely: + +"Who is it?" + +"Sahib, Sahib"--the _Durwan's_ whine was apologetic. "Is the Sahib +awake?" + +"Who wants me?" + +"Leh Shin, the Chinaman." + +Joicey wiped his face with his handkerchief and pulled open the door +with a violent movement. + +"Come in," he said, trying to speak naturally. "What is it, Leh Shin?" + +The Chinaman held a tweed hat in his hand and stole into the room like a +shadow. + +"What now, Leh Shin?" + +Joicey spoke in Yunnanese with the fluency of long habit, and even +though he was angry he kept his voice low as though he feared to be +overheard. + +"The Master of Masters will speak for me," said the Chinaman, standing +before him. "All day the police stand near to my house, and at night +they do not leave it. At one word from the Master, whose speech is +constructed of gold and precious metals, they can be withdrawn, and for +that word I wait--" He made a quick gesture with his tweed cap. + +"You will gain nothing by coming to my house, you swine," said Joicey, +his eyes staring and his veins standing out on his forehead. "I will see +what Mr. Hartley will do, but if you drag in my name or refer him to me +you will do yourself no good, do you hear? No good." + +Leh Shin watched him passively and waited until he had finished. + +"I will swear the oath," he said, blinking his eyes. "I will not speak +the name of the Master, but my doors are locked, my house is a house for +the water-rats, and until the big Lord frees me I am a poor man." + +Joicey sat down heavily on a low chair. + +"It shall be stopped," he said desperately. "I will see that there is no +more of this police supervision; you may take my word for it." + +The Chinaman stood still, moving one foot to the other. + +"In dreams the Master has spoken these promises to me before. Can I be +sure that it is not in a dream that the Master speaks again?" + +"I am awake," said Joicey, bitterly. "Mr. Hartley is looking for the +boy, and if the boy were found, all search would stop,"--he eyed the +Chinaman carefully, but the mask-like face did not change. + +"And the little boy? Perhaps, Ruler and King, the little boy is gone +dead." + +"You ask me _that_, you devil?" + +"It is for the servant to ask," said Leh Shin, dropping his lids for a +second. + +"Now, get out," said Joicey, between his clenched teeth. "And if you +come here to me again, at night, I'll kill you." + +"The Great One will not do that," said Leh Shin, placidly. "My +assistant waits for me. It would be known as fire is known when the +forest is dry. To-morrow or next day, if the police are gone, my little +house will be open again." He spoke the words with deep emphasis. + +"Get out," said Joicey, turning away his head. + +Leh Shin looked at him with a sudden, oblique glance like the flash of a +knife. + +"Speak no more, Lord of men and elephants; the _Durwan_ is now outside +the door, and he listens." + +"Good-night," said Joicey loudly, and he clicked off the light and went +to bed. + +If the darkness was close in the large houses of the Cantonment, it was +shut into the very essence of itself in the curio shop in Paradise +Street. It hid the carved devils from one another, it obliterated the +stone monsters that no one ever bought, and which had grown to belong to +the shop itself; it dropped its black veil over the green dragons, and +the china ladies, and the silver bowls and the little ivories, hiding +everything out of sight; but it did not hide the figure outside in the +street. The little man, with his pointed headdress and short jacket, had +the clear darkness all to himself. He was just as polite by night as he +was by day, and he bowed and ushered imaginary buyers up the stone steps +with the same perpetual civility, and the same unceasing smile, that +bagged out his varnished cheeks into joviality. + +Dark as it was inside the shop, it must have been darker along the +rat-burrows of stairs, and the loft-like rooms near the roof, but either +up above or down below, the scent of cassia and sandal-wood clung +everywhere inside the curio shop, smelling strongest around the glass +cases and bales of delicate silks. + +Mhtoon Pah's _Durwan_ slept across the doorway, and was therefore the +only object for the attention of the little man, and likewise, +therefore, he did not point to his master, who came in, in the dead, +heavy hours before dawn. He could not have been far; there was hardly +any dust on his red velvet slippers, and he brushed what there was from +them with a careful hand. As he placed his lamp on the floor, the light +threw odd shadows up the walls, turning that of Mhtoon Pah himself into +a grotesque and gigantic mass of darkness, and when he stooped and stood +erect it jumped with a sudden living spring. + +Mhtoon Pah moved about the shop on light feet. He bent here and there to +examine some of the objects closely, with the manner and gesture of a +man who loves beautiful things for their own sakes as well as for the +profit he hoped to gain from their sale. When he had twice made a tour +of inspection, he placed an alabaster Buddha in the centre of a carved +table and sat down before it. The Buddha was dead white, with a red +chain around his neck, and on his head a gold cap with long, gem-set +ears hanging to the shoulders, and Mhtoon Pah sat long in front of the +figure, swaying a little and moving his lips soundlessly. He appeared +like a man who is self-mesmerized by the flame of a candle, and his face +worked with suppressed and violent emotion; at any moment it seemed as +though he might break the silence with some awful, passion-tossed +sound. + +Suddenly, he stopped in his voiceless worship, and, leaning forward +quickly, extinguished the lamp. If he had heard any sound, it was +apparently from below, for he crouched on the ground with his head close +to the teak boarding, and crawled with slow, noiseless care towards the +door. A silk curtain covered the window, hiding the interior of the shop +from the street, and, when he reached the low woodwork above which it +hung, he twitched the curtain back with a sudden movement of his hand +and raised himself slowly until his head was on a level with the glass. + +Mhtoon Pah grew suddenly rigid, and the thick black hair on his head +seemed to bristle. Pressed close against the window, with only a slender +barrier of glass between them, was the face of Leh Shin, the Chinaman. A +ray of white moonlight fell across them both, and its clear radiance +lighted up every feature of the curio dealer's face, changing its brown +into a strange, ghastly pallor. For a moment they stood immovable, +staring into each other's eyes, and the shadows behind Mhtoon Pah in the +shop, and the shadows behind Leh Shin in the street, seemed to listen +and wait with them, seemed to creep closer and enfold them, seemed to +draw up and up on noiseless feet and hang suspended around them. The +moment might have endured for years, so full was it of menace and +passion, and then the man outside moved quickly and the moonlight +flooded in across the face and shoulders of the Burman. + +For a second longer he remained as though fascinated, and then Mhtoon +Pah wrenched at the door and thundered back the heavy bolts. There were +flecks of foam on his lips, and his eyes rolled as he dashed through the +door and out down the steps, rending the air with cries of murder. He +was too late, the Chinaman had gone. When the street flocked out to see +what the disturbance meant, Mhtoon Pah was crouching on his steps in a +kind of fit. + +"I have seen the face of the slayer of Absalom," he shrieked, when the +crowd had carried him in, and recovered him to his senses. + +"Is he a devil?" asked a young Burman, in tones of joyful excitement. "A +devil with iron claws has been seen several nights lately." + +"A Chinese devil," groaned Mhtoon Pah, speaking through his clenched +teeth. "One who shall yet be hanged for his crime." + +"Ah! ah!" said the watchers. "He dreams that it is a man, but it is +known that a devil has walked in Paradise Street, his jaws open. +Certainly he has eaten little Absalom." + +Dawn was breaking, the pale, still hour that is often the hour of death; +and a cool breeze rippled in the date palms and in the flat green leaves +of the rubber plants, and the festoons of succulent green growths that +climbed up the houses of the Cantonments, and dawn found the Rev. +Francis Heath sleeping quietly. He was lying with one arm under his +head, and his worn face in almost child-like repose. Wherever he was, +sleep had carried him to a place of peace and refreshment. When he awoke +he would have forgotten his dream, but for the moment the dream +sufficed, and he rested in the circle of its charm. + +All the time that we are young and careless and happy, we are building +retreats for memory that make harbours of rest in later years, when the +storms come with force. All the old things that did not count, come back +to calm and to restore. The school-room, where the light flickered on a +special corner of the ceiling, telling the children to come out and +play; the tapping of the laurels outside the church windows, and the +musty smell of red rep cushions along the pew where the hours were very +slow in passing; the white clover in the field behind the garden, got at +easily through a hole in the privet hedge. The play of light and shadow +over the hills of home, the dusk at nightfall, and the homely cawing of +rooks. All the delicious things that went with the smell of ripe +strawberries under nets, where thieving birds fluttered until the +gardener let them free again; and the mystery of sparks flying up the +chimney when the winter logs blazed. Every simple joy is stored away in +some lumber corner of the minds of men, and when sleep comes, sometimes +the old things are taken out again. + +The Rev. Francis Heath, like the rest of the world, had his own secret +doorway that led back to wonderland, and it may have been that he was +far away from Mangadone in this child-world which is so hard to find +again, as he slept, and the outside world grew from grey to green, and +from green to misty gold. The sunlight flamed on the spire of the +Pagoda, it danced up the brown river and threw long shadows before its +coming, those translucent shadows that no artist has ever yet been able +to paint. It turned the mohur trees blood-red, and the grass to shining +emerald green, and Mangadone looked as though it had just come fresh +from the hands of its Creator. + +Mhtoon Pah, recovered from his fit, was in his shop early, and he +himself went out to cleanse the effigy outside with a white duster, and +to set his wares in order. It was a good day for sales, as a liner had +come in and brought with it many rich Americans, and Mhtoon Pah was glad +to sell to such as they. His stock-in-trade was beautiful and +attractive, and in the centre of the table, where the unset stones +glittered and shone on white velvet, there stood a bowl, a gold lacquer +bowl of perfect symmetry and very great beauty. He poised it on his +hands once or twice and examined it carefully. As it was already sold it +was not to remain in the curio shop, but Mhtoon Pah was a careful man, +and he desired that Mrs. Wilder should fetch it herself; besides, he +liked her car to stand outside his shop, and he liked her to come in and +look at his goods. Very few people who came in to look, went away +without having bought several things they did not in the least want. +Mhtoon Pah knew exactly how to lure by influence, and he knew that Mrs. +Wilder could no more turn away from a grey-and-pink shot silk than Eve +could refuse the forbidden fruit. + +He spread out a sea-blue Mandarin's coat, embroidered with peaches, and +small, crafty touches of black here and there, and looked at it with the +loving eye of a connoisseur. His whole shop was a fountain of colour, +and he was not unworthy of it in his silk petticoat. A ray of sunlight +fell in through the door and touched a few threads of gold in the coat +as Mhtoon Pah hung it up to good advantage, and turned to see a customer +come in. It was the Rev. Francis Heath; and Mhtoon Pah's face fell. +"Reverends" were not good buyers, specially when they had not any wives, +and Mr. Heath took no notice of the attractive display as he stood, +black and forbidding, in the centre of the shop. + +"I have come here, Mhtoon Pah, to ask for news of Absalom," he said, +meeting his eyes forcefully. "Where is he?" + +Mhtoon Pah bowed low, as befitted the dignity of his guest, who was, +after all, a _Hypongyi_, even though he wore no yellow robes. + +"It is unknown," he said, in a heavy voice. "The Reverend himself might +know, since the Reverend saw my little Absalom that night." + +"You _must_ have suspicions?" + +Mhtoon Pah's face worked violently. + +"Leh Shin," he whispered. "Look there for what is left." + +Heath retreated before his fury. + +"You yourself sent the boy there." + +"_Wah! Wah!_ I sent him and he did not return." + +"What are you talking about?" said the fresh, gay voice of Mrs. Wilder. +"Where is my lacquer bowl, Mhtoon Pah?" She came in, bright as the +morning outside, and smiled at the Rev. Francis Heath. "So you have got +it for me." + +"I did not get it, Lady Sahib," said Mhtoon Pah. "It came here, how I +know not. I found it outside my shop in the care of the wooden image +when I went to dust his limbs this morning." + +Mrs. Wilder laughed. + +"In that case I shall not have to pay for it. But what do you mean, +Mhtoon Pah?" + +"It is blood money," said Mhtoon Pah, with a wild gasp. "Only one man +knew of the bowl, only one man could have put it there. I shall tell +Hartley Sahib; the _Thakin_ will strike surely and swiftly." + +"He will do nothing of the kind," said Mrs. Wilder, with a quick look at +Heath. "Give me my bowl, Mhtoon Pah; you are letting yourself dream +foolish things. Absalom"--she tapped the polished floor with her +well-shaped foot--"will come back and explain everything himself, and +then--whoever is responsible--will bear the penalty." + +"They have tied his head to his elbows, and set snakes to sting him," +said Mhtoon Pah. "This have they done, and worse things, Lady Sahib." + +Mrs. Wilder shivered. + +"Give me my bowl, you horrible old man. Absalom is blacking boots in a +New York hotel, weeks ago.--Ah! what a coat! Are you buying anything, +Mr. Heath?" + +"I am going to the school," he answered slowly. + +"Then let me drive you there. Send me up the Mandarin's coat, Mhtoon +Pah, and I will haggle another day." + +Heath followed her reluctantly down the steps. He wished she had not +made a point of taking him in her motor, but he felt instinctively sorry +for her, which fact, had she known it, would have surprised and +affronted her. + +"Will you come and dine with us one night?" she asked, looking at him +with her fine eyes; "it would give us great pleasure, and I do not think +you have met my husband." + +"I rarely do dine out," said Heath, staring before him as the car backed +round in the limited space of Paradise Street. + +"Then make this an exception. I won't ask you to a function, just a +quiet little family party." + +"You are very kind." + +He was still abstracted, and hardly seemed to hear her, and, when he got +out and shut the door, she leaned from the window, smiling like weary +royalty. + +"I will write and arrange an evening later on. It is a promise, Mr. +Heath." + +"I will come," he replied, in the same preoccupied voice, as he raised +his battered _topi_. + +"What has he been doing?" she asked herself, in surprise, and again and +again she put the same question to herself, not only that morning, but +often, later on, and with ever-increasing curiosity. + + + + +IX + +MRS. WILDER IS PRESENTED IN A MELTING MOOD, AND DRAYCOTT WILDER IS +FORCED TO RECALL THE LINES COMMENCING "A FOOL THERE WAS" + + +It was a bright morning with a high wind blowing and a breath of +freshness in the air that has a charm to inspire a better outlook upon +life. Everywhere it made itself felt in Mangadone, and like Pippa in the +poem, the wind passed along, leaving everything and everybody a little +better for its coming. It passed through the open veranda of the huge +hospital, and touched the fever patients with its cool breath; it +hurried through the Chinese quarter, blew along Paradise Street, dusting +the gesticulating man, and went on up the river, pretending to make the +brown water change its muddy mind and run backwards instead of forwards. +It paid a little freakish attention to Mrs. Wilder's dark hair, and it +cooled the back of Hartley's neck, as they rode along together, by the +way of a lake. + +They had met quite accidentally, and Hartley, who had been vaguely +wishing for an opportunity to speak to Mrs. Wilder, seized upon it and +offered himself as her escort. She agreed with complimentary readiness, +and they turned along a wooded road, where the shadows were deep and +where Hartley felt the gripping hands of romance loosen his +heart-strings. + +Mrs. Wilder listened to him, or appeared to do so, which is much the +same in effect, and Hartley was not critical. She was a good listener, +as women who have something else to think about often are; and so they +rode along the twisting path, and the wind sang in the plumes of the +bamboo trees, and Hartley believed that it sang a romantic lyric of +platonic admiration, exquisitely hinted at by a tactful man, and +properly appreciated by a very beautiful woman. + +"By the way," she said carelessly, "have you found that wretched little +Absalom yet? What a bother he has been since he took it into his head to +go off to America, or wherever it is he went to." + +"I am glad you mentioned him," said Hartley, his face growing suddenly +serious. "I have a question or two that I want very much to ask you." + +"A question or two? That sounds so very legal. Really, Mr. Hartley, I +believe you credit me with having Absalom's body hanging up in one of my +_almirahs_. Honestly, don't you really believe that I had a hand in +putting him out of the way?" + +She laughed her hard little laugh, and shot a look at him over her +shoulder. + +"You do know something, some little thing it may be, but something that +might help me." + +"About Absalom, or about someone else?" + +"About whoever you saw him with." + +Hartley pushed his pony alongside of hers, but her face revealed +nothing, and was quite expressionless. + +"Whoever I saw him with?" she echoed reflectively. "Ah, but it is so +long ago, Mr. Hartley, I can't even remember now whether I was out or +not that evening." + +"You are only playing with me," said Hartley a little irritably. "The +policeman on duty at the cross-roads below Paradise Street saw you." + +Her face became suddenly so drawn and startled that Hartley regretted +his words almost as he spoke them. + +"Wait a minute, Mr. Hartley," she said, in a strained, hard voice. "You +have to explain to me why you have asked your men questions connected +with me." + +"I did not ask questions; I was told." + +She pulled up her pony, and, turning her head away from him, looked out +silently over the dip of ground below them. Hartley did not break her +silence. He saw that he had come close to some deep emotion, and he +watched her curiously, but Mrs. Wilder, even if she was conscious of his +look, appeared quite indifferent to it. He could form no idea along what +road her silent concentration led her; but he knew that she pursued an +idea that was compelling and strong. He knew enough of her to know that +even her silence was not the silence that arises out of lack of subject +for talk, but that it meant something as definite and clear as though +she spoke direct words to him. + +The Head of the Police would have given much at that moment to have +been able to penetrate her thoughts, but he only stared at her with his +blue eyes a little wider open than usual, and waited for her to speak. +She looked before her steadily, but not with the eyes of a woman who +dreams; Mrs. Wilder was thinking definitely, and while Hartley waited, +her mind travelled at speed across years and came to a halt at the +moment where she now found herself, and from that moment she looked out +forcefully into the future. + +Usually, in the tragic instants of life there is very little time for +thought before the need for action forces the will, with relentless +hands. Clarice Wilder knew as well as she knew anything that her +position was one of some peril, and that much more than she could weigh +or measure at that moment lay beyond the next spoken word. She was +telling herself to be careful, steadying her nerve and reining in a +desire to pour out a flood of circumstantial evidence, calculated to +convince the Head of the Police. + +If there is one thing more than another that the man or the woman driven +against the ropes should avoid, it is prolixity; the snare that catches +craft in its own net. Clarice Wilder desired to be overpowering, +redundant and extreme in the wordy proof of her innocence of purpose +that evening of July the 29th, but she held back and waited steadfastly +until she was quite sure of herself again, and then she turned her head +and glanced at Hartley with a smile. + +"How silent you are," she said gently. + +Hartley flushed and looked self-conscious. + +"To be quite candid, that was what I was thinking of you," he replied +awkwardly. + +"What were we saying?" went on Mrs. Wilder. "Oh, of course, I remember. +You thought I could tell you something about poor Mr. Heath, didn't you? +I only wish I could, but it was so long ago. I do remember the evening. +It was very hot and I rode along by the river to get some fresh air," +her eyes grew hazy. "I can remember thinking that Mangadone looked as if +it was a great ball of amber, with the sun shining through it, but as +for being able to tell you what Mr. Heath was doing, or who he was with, +it is impossible. You should have pinned me down to it the day you +called on me, when this troublesome little boy first went off." She +gathered up the reins, and Hartley mounted reluctantly. "I am so sorry. +I would love to be able to help you, but I cannot remember." + +If Hartley had been asked on oath how it was that Mrs. Wilder had led +him clean away from the subject under discussion, to something +infinitely more satisfying and interesting, he could not have sworn to +it. They loitered by the road and came slowly back to the bungalow, +where they parted at the gate, and he watched her go in, hoping she +might turn her head, but she did not, and Hartley took his way towards +his own house and thought very little of Absalom or the Rev. Francis +Heath. One thing he did think of, and that was that Mrs. Wilder had +looked at him earnestly, and said that she wished he was not "mixed up" +in anything likely to bring uneasiness to the mind of the Rector of St. +Jude's Church. "Mixed up" was a curious way of expressing his connection +with the case, but Hartley felt that he knew what she meant. He pulled +at his short moustache and wished with all his heart that he really did +know; but all the wishes in the world could not help him out of a +professional dilemma. + +Mrs. Wilder had not looked round, though she very well knew that Hartley +was waiting and hoping that she would, and once she had turned the first +bend she touched the pony with her heel and cantered up the hill, +throwing the reins to the _syce_ who came in answer to her impatient +call. + +"Idiot," she said, as she shut the door of her room and flung her _topi_ +on the bed, and she repeated the word several times with increasing +animosity and vigour. She hated Hartley at that moment, and felt under +no further obligation to hide her real feelings; and then Mrs. Wilder +sat down and thought hard. + +The mental power of exaggerating danger is limitless, and she could not +deny that her fear was playing tricks with her nerves. She knew that she +had done creditably under the strain of acute nervous tension, but she +felt also that much more of the same thing would be unendurable. + +Draycott came in to luncheon, and she was there to receive him, but even +to his careless eye, Clarice was oddly abstracted, and he glanced at her +curiously, wondering what it was that occupied her mind and made her +frown as she thought. + +She could not get away from the grip of her morning interview. Try as +she would, she could not shake it off. It caught her back in the middle +of her talk, made her answer at random, and held her with a terrible +power. She considered that there were a thousand other things she might +have said or done, a hundred ways by which she might have appealed to +Hartley, and yet her common sense told her that the less she said on the +subject the better it would be, if, in the end, the Rev. Francis Heath +was led into the awful pitfalls of cross-examination. Anyone may forget +and recall facts later, but to state facts that may be used as evidence +is to stand handcuffed before inexorable justice, and Mrs. Wilder had +left her hands free. + +"Is anything the matter?" Draycott jerked out the question as he got up +to leave the room. "You seem rather silent." + +Clarice laughed, and her laugh was slightly forced. + +"I went for a ride this morning, and met Mr. Hartley. He is the most +exhausting man I ever met." + +"I hope you told him so," said Wilder shortly. "He's about here +frequently enough, even though he _does_ bore you." + +Something in his voice made her eyes focus him very clearly and +distinctly. + +"I have a very good mind to tell him," she said easily, "but he is +blessed with a skin that would turn the edge of any ordinary hatchet; he +would think I was merely being 'funny.'" + +"It's an odd fact," said Draycott with a sneer in his eyes, "that +however much a woman complains of a man's stupidity, she will let him +hang about her, and make a grievance of it, until she sees fit to drop +him. When that moment arrives she can make him let go, and lower away +all right. Just now Hartley is hanging on quite perceptibly, and if it +entertains you to slang him behind his back, I suppose you will slang +him, but he won't drop off before you've done with him, Clarice, if I +know anything of your methods." Her face flushed and she began to look +angry. "Mind you, I don't object to Hartley. As you say, he's a fool, a +silly, trusting ass, the sort of man who is child's-play to a girl of +sixteen. If you must have a string of loafers to prove that your +attractions outwear _anno domini_, I must accept Hartley, and other +Hartleys, so long as you continue to play the same game. _Hartleys_, I +said, Clarice." + +There was no doubt about the emphasis he laid upon the name. + +"You flatter Mr. Hartley considerably," she said, but her voice was +conciliatory and her laugh nervous. + +"He represents a type; a type that some married men may be thankful +continues to exist. God!" he broke out violently, "if he could hear you +talk of him, it would be a lesson to the fool, but he won't hear you. No +man ever does hear these things until the knowledge comes too late to be +of any use to him. You have got to have your strings"--he shrugged his +shoulders--"because your life isn't here, in this house; it is at the +Club, and at dinners and races and so on, and to be left to your +husband is the beginning of the end. Don't deny it, Clarice, it's no +earthly use. Women like you have your own ideas of life, I suppose, and +I ought to be thankful they're no worse." + +He stood by the door all the time he spoke, and his colourless face and +pale eyes never altered. + +"You're talking absolute nonsense," said Mrs. Wilder, preserving an +amiable tone. "We _have_ to entertain, Draycott, and you can't round on +me for what I have done for years. It has helped you on, and you know +it." + +"I wasn't talking of that," he said drearily. "I was talking of you. +You're getting old, for a woman, Clarice, and when you're worried, as +you are to-day, you show it; though how an imbecile like Hartley got at +you to the extent of making you worried, I don't pretend to guess." + +"Old," she said angrily. "You aren't troubling to be particularly +polite." + +"No, I'm damnably truthful; just because it makes me wonder at you all +the more. You can go on smiling at any number of idiots, because you +must have the applause, I suppose. You don't even believe in it--_now_." + +His allusion was definite, and Mrs. Wilder felt about in her mind for +some way to change the conversation. Quagmires are bad ground for +walking, and she was in a hurry to reach _terra firma_ again. She came +round the table and slipped her arm through his. + +"After all these years. Draycott--be a little generous." + +If she had fought him, some deep, hidden anger in his cold heart would +have flared up, but her gesture softened him and he patted her hand. + +"I know," he said slowly. "Only I can't quite forget. I simply can't, +Clarice." + +She smiled at him and touched his face with a light hand. + +"Shall I tell you why? Because even if I am old--and thirty-six isn't so +very dreadful--you are still in love with me." + +She went with him to the door and smiled as he drove away, smiled and +waved as he reappeared round a distant bend, and watched him return her +signal, and then she went back into the large drawing-room and her face +grew grey and pinched, and she sat with her chin propped on her hands, +thinking. + +She had proved that there are more fools in the world than those who go +about disguised as Heads of Police, and had added another specimen to +the general list, but she found no mirth in the idea as she considered +it. + + + + +X + +IN WHICH CRAVEN JOICEY IS OVERCOME BY A SUDDEN INDISPOSITION, AND +HARTLEY, WITHOUT LOOKING FOR HIM, FINDS THE MAN HE WANTED + + +It seemed to Hartley that Fate had dealt very hardly with him. He was +interested in the case of the boy Absalom, and he felt that the +possibility of clearing it up was well within reach, and then he found +himself face to face with an unpleasant and painful duty. + +All his gregarious sociable nature cried out against any act that would +cause a scandal in Mangadone, the magnitude of which he could hardly +gauge but only guess at; and yet, wherever he went, the thought haunted +him. His feelings gave him no rest, and he remained inactive and +listless for several days after his ride with Mrs. Wilder. If she had +told him that she implored him personally to drop the case he could not +have felt more certain that she desired him to do so. She worked +indirectly upon his feelings, a much surer way with some natures than a +direct appeal, and the thought brought something akin to misery into the +mind and heart of the police officer. + +Absalom had gone, leaving no visible footprint to indicate whither he +had vanished, but the inexorable detail of circumstance after +circumstance led on to a very definite conclusion. The wooden figure +outside the curio dealer's shop pointed up his master's steps, and did +no one any wrong, but the awful fixed finger of changeless fact +indicated the creeper-covered bungalow of the Rev. Francis Heath. + +Hartley sat in his room, his elbows on the writing-table, and stared out +before him. A sluicing shower had come up suddenly, obscuring all the +brightness of the day, and the eaves of the veranda dripped mournfully +with a sound like the patter of a thousand tiny feet; the patter sounded +like the falling of tears, and he wondered if Heath, too, listened to +the light persistent noise, and read into it the footsteps of departing +hopes and lost ideals, or merely all the terrible monotonous detail that +preceded an act that was a crime. + +Hartley had dealt considerably with criminal cases, but never with +anything the least like the case of the boy Absalom, and the +speculations that came across his mind were new to him. He realized that +a criminal of the class of the Rev. Francis Heath is a criminal who is +driven slowly, inch by inch, into action, and each inch given only at +the cost of blood and tears. It was little short of ghastly to consider +what Heath must have gone through and suffered, and what he still must +suffer, and must continue to suffer as he went along the dark loneliness +of the awful road into which he had turned. + +People who have pity and to spare for the murdered body, or for the dupe +who has suffered plunder, think very little of the agony of mind and +the horror of the man who has held a good position, secure and honoured, +and who falls into the bottomless abyss of crime and detection. Hartley +had never considered it before. He was on the side of law and order, and +he was incapable of even dimly visualizing any condition of affairs that +could force him into illegal action, and yet he felt in the darkness +after some comprehension of the mind of the Rector of St. Jude's Parish +Church. + +The rain passed over, and the veranda was crossed with strips of yellow +sunlight, the pale washed sunlight of a wet evening, and still the drip +from the eaves fell intermittently with its melancholy noise, so softly +now, as hardly to be heard, and Hartley got up, and, putting on his hat, +walked across the scrunching wet gravel, and out on to the road, making +his way towards the Club. + +Far away, gleams of light lay soft over the trees of the park, the green +sad light that is only seen in damp atmospheres. There was no gladness +in the day, only a sense of deficiency and sorrow, even in its lingering +beauty; and the lake that reflected the trees and the sky was deadly +still, with a brooding, waiting stillness. Hartley stopped as he went +towards the further gates of the park, and watched the glassy +reflections with troubled eyes. No breeze touched the woods into +movement, and the long, yellow bars of evening light were full of dim +stillness. The very lifelessness of it affected Hartley strangely. +Except where, here and there, a flash of the low sunset caught the +water, the whole prospect was motionless, and he stood like a man +spellbound by the mystery of its silence. + +Hartley had chosen the less frequented road through the Park, and there +was no one in sight when he had stopped to look at the pale sheet of +water with its mirrored reproduction of tree and sky. It held him +strangely, and he felt a curious tension of his nerves, as though +something was going to happen. The thought came, as such thoughts do +come, out of nowhere in particular, and yet Hartley waited with a sense +of discomfort. + +When he turned away angry at his own momentary folly, he stooped and +picked up a stone and threw it into the motionless beauty of the water, +breaking it into a quick splash, marring the clearness, and confusing +the straight, low band of gold cloud which broke under the widening +circles. As he stooped, a man had come into sight, walking with a slow, +heavy step, his eyes on the ground and his head bent. He came on with +dragging feet and a dull, mechanical walk, the walk of a man who is +tired in body and soul. He did not look at the lake, nor did he even see +Hartley, who turned towards him at once with sudden relief. + +When Hartley hailed him cheerfully, Joicey stopped dead and looked up, +staring at him as though he were an apparition. He took off his hat and +wiped his forehead. + +"Where did you spring from, Hartley?" he asked. "I did not see anyone +just now." There was more irritation than warmth in his greeting of the +police officer. + +"I was moonstruck by the edge of that confounded lake. It was so still +that it got on my nerves." + +"Nerves," said Joicey abruptly. "There's too much talk of nerves +altogether in these days." + +Joicey, like all large men with loud voices, was able to give an +impression of solidity that is very refreshing and reviving at times, +but, otherwise, Joicey was not looking entirely himself. He passed his +handkerchief over his face again and laughed dully. + +"You're going to the Club, I suppose?" + +"I was going there, but now I'll join you and have a walk, if I may. +It's early for the Club yet." + +He turned and walked on beside the Banker, who appeared, if anything, +less in the humour for conversation than was usual with him. They left +the lake behind them, now a pallid gleam flecked with wavering light in +a circle of deep shadows that reached out from the margin. + +"Any news?" asked Hartley without enthusiasm. + +"Not that I have heard." + +Silence fell again, and they walked out on to the road. Pools of +afternoon rain still lay here and there in the depressions, but Joicey +took no heed of them, and splashed on, staining his white trousers with +liquid mud. + +"By the way," he said, clearing his throat as though his words stuck +there, "have you heard anything more in connection with the +disappearance of that boy you were talking of the other evening?" + +Hartley did not reply for a moment, and just as he was about to speak, +Mrs. Wilder's car passed, and Mrs. Wilder leaned forward to smile at the +Head of the Police; a small buggy followed with some more friends of +Hartley's, and then another car, and the road was clear again. + +"I believe I am on the right track, but I don't like it, Joicey. I'm +damned if I do." + +"Why not?" + +"It comes too close to home,"--Hartley spoke with a jerk. "A hateful +job--I thought I'd tell you--" He spoke in broken sentences, and his +words affected the Banker very perceptibly. + +"Can't you drop it?" + +Joicey came to a standstill, and his voice was lowered almost to a +whisper. + +"I wish to Heaven I could, but it's a question of duty,"--he could +hardly see Joicey's face in the gathering gloom. "I suppose you guess +what I'm driving at, Joicey, though how you guess, I don't know." + +"I think I'll say good night here, Hartley,"--the Banker's voice was +unnatural and wavering. "I can't discuss it with you. It's got to be +proved," he spoke more heatedly. "What have you got? Only the word of a +stinking native. I tell you it's monstrous." He stopped and clutched +Hartley's arm, and seemed as though he was staggering. + +"What has come over you, Joicey; are you ill?" + +"I'll sit down here for a moment,"--Joicey walked towards a low wall. +"Sometimes I get these attacks. I'm better after they are over. Better, +much better. Leave me here to go back by myself, Hartley. You need have +no fear, I'm over it now; I'll rest for a little and then go my way +quickly. Believe me, I'd rather be alone." + +Very reluctantly, Hartley quitted him. He felt that Joicey was ill, and +might even be beginning the horrible phase of "breaking up," which comes +on with such fatal speed in a tropical climate. He went back after he +had gone a mile along the road, but Joicey was no longer there. It was +too late to think of going to the Club, for the road that Joicey and +Hartley had followed led away from the residential quarter of Mangadone, +and he disliked the idea of going back to his own bungalow and waiting +through the dismal hour that lies across the evening between the time to +come in and the time to dress for dinner. + +Had there been a friendly house near, Hartley would have gone in on the +chance of finding someone at home, but as there was not, he made the +best of existing circumstances and took his way along the road towards +his own bungalow. He could not deny that his walk with Joicey had only +served to depress his spirits, and he was sorry to think that his friend +was so obviously in bad health. The world seemed an uncomfortable place, +full of gloomy surprises, and Hartley wished that he had a wife to go +back to. Not a superb being like Mrs. Wilder, who was encircled by the +halo of High Romance, but just an ordinary wife, with a friendly smile +and a way of talking about everyday things while she darned socks. +Somewhere in his domestic heart Hartley considered sock-mending a +beautiful and symbolic act, and yet he could not picture Mrs. Wilder +occupied in such a fashion. + +A man with a wife to go back to is never at the same loose end as a man +who has no need ever to be punctual for a solitary meal, and Hartley +walked quickly because he wanted to get clear of his depression, rather +than for any reason that compelled him to be up to time. + +The gathering darkness drew out the flare over the city, and, here and +there, lamps dotted the road, until, turning up a short cut, he was into +the region of trams once more. The lighted cars, filled with gay Burmese +and soldiers from the British Regiment, and European-clad, dark-skinned +creatures of mixed races, looked cheerful and encouraged to better +thoughts. Hartley crossed the busy thoroughfare below the Pagoda steps +and went on quickly, for he recognized the outline of Mhtoon Pah on his +way to burn amber candles before his newly-erected shrine. He was in no +mood to talk to the curio dealer just then, and he avoided him carefully +and plunged down a tree-bowered road that led to the bridge, and from +the bridge to the hill-rise where his own gate stood open. + +It pleased him to see that lamps were lighted in the house, and he felt +conscious that he was hungry, and would be glad of dinner; he made up +his mind to do himself well and rout the tormenting thoughts that +pursued him, and to-morrow he would see Francis Heath and have the whole +thing put on paper once and for all. He even whistled as he came along +the short drive and under the portico, where a night-scented flower +smelt strong and sweet. His boy met him with the information that there +was a Sahib within waiting. A Sahib who had evidently come to stay, for +a strange-looking servant in the veranda rose and salaamed, and sat down +again by his master's kit with the patience of a man who looks out upon +eternity. + +Hartley hardly glanced at the servant. Visitors, tumbling from anywhere, +were not altogether unusual occurrences. Men on the way back from a +shoot in the jungles of Upper Burma, men who were old school friends and +were doing a leisurely tour to Japan and America, men of his own +profession who had leave to dispose of; all or any of these might arrive +with a servant and a portmanteau. Whoever it was, Hartley was +predisposed to give him a welcome. He had come just when he was wanted, +and he hurried in, a light of pleasure in his blue eyes. + +Near the lamp, a book of verses open on his knee, sat Hartley's +unexpected guest. He was slim, dark, and vital, but where his arresting +note of vitality lay would have been hard to explain. No one can tell +exactly what it is that marks one man as a courageous man, and another +as a coward, and yet, without need of any test, these things may be +known and judged beforehand. The man whose eyes followed the lines: + + "They say the Lion and the Lizard keep + The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep"-- + +was as distinctive as he well could be, and yet his face was not +expressive. His dark, narrow eyes were dull, and his finely-cut features +small and perfect, rather than bold and strong; his long hands were the +hands of a woman more than those of a man, and his figure was slight to +boyishness. + +When Hartley let his full joy express itself in husky, cheery words of +surprise, his visitor said very little, but what he did say was spoken +in a pleasant, low voice. + +"Coryndon," said Hartley again. "Of all men on earth I wanted to see you +most. You've done what you always do, come in the 'nick.'" + +Coryndon smiled, a languid, half-amused gleam of mirth. + +"I am only passing through, my job is finished." + +"But you'll stay for a bit?" + +"You said just now that I was here in the 'nick'; if the nick is +interesting, I'll see." + +"I'll go and arrange about your rooms," said Hartley, and he appeared +twice his normal size beside his guest, as a St. Bernard might look +standing by a greyhound. "We will talk afterwards." + +Coryndon watched him go out without change of expression, and, sliding +back into his chair, took up his book again. + + "They say the Lion and the Lizard keep + The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep." + +Coryndon leaned back and half closed his eyes; the words seemed potent, +as with a spell, and he called up a vision of the forsaken Palace where +wild things lived and where revels were long forgotten--solitude and +ruin that no one ever crossed to explore or to see--with the eyes of a +man who can rebuild a mighty past. Solitude in the halls and marble +stairways, ruin of time in the fretted screens, and broken cisterns +holding nothing but dry earth. Nothing there now but the lion and the +lizard, not even the ghost of a light footfall, or the tinkle of glass +bangles on a rounded arm. + +Coryndon had almost forgotten Hartley when he came back, flushed and +pleased, and full of a host's anxiety about his guest's welfare. + +"I hope you haven't been bored?" + +"No," said Coryndon, touching the book, "I've been amusing myself in my +own way," and he followed Hartley out of the room. + + + + +XI + +SHOWS HOW THE "WHISPER FROM THE DAWN OF LIFE" ENABLES CORYNDON TO TAKE +THE DRIFTING THREADS BETWEEN HIS FINGERS + + +Very probably Hartley believed that he knew "all about" Coryndon; he +knew at least, that the Government of India looked upon him as the best +man they had to unravel the most intricate case that murder or forgery, +coining or fraud of any sort, could tangle into mysterious knots. +Coryndon had intuition and patience, and once he undertook a case he +followed it through to the ultimate conclusion; and so it was that +Coryndon stood alone, a department in himself, possibly aided by the +police and the shadower, but capable of discovering anything, once he +bent his mind to the business of elucidation. + +Beyond the fact that he had been born somewhere in a jungle clearing in +Upper Burma, and that at ten years old he had gone to India to a school +in the Hills, then had vanished for years to reappear in the service of +the Government, his story was not known to anyone except himself. No one +doubted that he had "a touch of the country" in his blood. It displayed +itself in unmistakable physical traits, and his knowledge of its many +tongues and languages was the knowledge that first made him realize +that his future career lay in India. + +Colonel Coryndon, his father, died just as the boy was leaving school, +and left him a little money; just enough to keep him from the iron yoke +of clerkship, and to allow of his waiting for what he wanted. Behind his +dark eyes lived a brain that could concentrate with the grip of a vise +upon any subject that interested him, and he puzzled his masters at his +school. Coryndon was a curious mixture of imagination and strong common +sense; few realize that it is only the imaginative mind that can see +behind the curtain that divides life from life, and discern motives. + +He saw everything with an almost terrible clearness. Every detail of a +room, every line in a face, every shop in a street he walked through, +every man he spoke with, was registered in his indelible book of facts. +This, in itself, is not much. Men can learn the habit of observation as +they can train their minds to remember dates or historical facts, but, +in the case of Coryndon, this art was inherent and his by birth. He +started with it, and his later training of practising his odd capacity +for recalling the smallest detail of every day that passed only +intensified his power in this direction. With this qualification alone +he could have been immensely useful as a secret agent, but in addition +to this he had also his other gift, his intuition and power of altering +his own point of view for that of another man, and seeing his subject +through the eyes of everyone concerned in a question. + +His nervous vitality was great, and there were plenty of well-educated +native subordinates who believed him gifted with occult forces, since +his ways of getting at his astonishing conclusions were never explained +to any living soul, because Coryndon could not have explained them to +himself. + +His identity was well known at Headquarters, but beyond that limit it +was carefully hidden from the lower branches of the executive, as too +wide and too public recognition would have narrowed his sphere of +action. As Wesley declared the whole world to be his parish, so the +whole of Asia was Coryndon's sphere of action, and only at Headquarters +was it ever known where he actually might be found, or what employment +occupied his brain. He came like a rain-cloud blown up soundlessly on +the east wind, and vanished like morning mists, and no one knew what he +had learnt during his silent passing. + +Men with voices like brass trumpets praised and encouraged him, and men +who knew the dark byways of criminal investigation were hardly jealous +of him. Coryndon was a freak, an exception, a man who stood beyond +competition, and was as sure as he was mysterious. He was "explained" in +a dozen ways. His face, to begin with, made disguise easy, and the touch +of the country did much for him in this respect. He had played behind +his father's up-country bungalow with little Burmese boys and talked in +their speech before he knew any English; the Bazaar was an open book to +him, and the mind of the native, so some men said with a shade of +contempt, not too far from his own to make understanding impossible. + +Besides all this, there were those other years, after he left the school +under the high snow ranges, when Coryndon had vanished entirely, and of +these years he never spoke. And yet, with all this, Coryndon was +unmistakably a "Sahib," a man of unusual culture and brilliant ability. +He had complete powers of self-control, and his one passion was his love +of music, and though he never played for anyone else, men who had come +upon him unawares had heard him playing to himself in a way that was as +surprising as everything else about Coryndon surprised and astonished. + +He had dreamed as a boy, and he still dreamed as a man. The subtle +beauty of a line of verse led him into visionary habitations as fair as +any ever disclosed to poet or artist. He could lose himself utterly in +the lights and shadows of a passing day, while he watched for a doomed +man at the entrance of a temple, or brooded over painted sores and cried +to the rich for alms by a dusty roadside; a very different Coryndon to +the Coryndon who looked at Hartley across the white cloth of the round +dinner-table. + +The truth about Coryndon was that he read the souls of men. Mhtoon Pah +had boasted to Hartley that he read the walk of the world he looked at, +but Coryndon went much further; and as Hartley talked about outward +things, whilst the Boy and the _Khitmutghar_ flitted in and out behind +them, carrying plates and dishes, his guest was considering him with a +quiet and almost moonstruck gravity of mind. He knew just how far +Hartley could go, and he knew exactly what blocked him. Hartley was tied +into the close meshes of circumstance; he argued from without and worked +inward, and Coryndon had discovered the flaw in this process before he +left his school. + +When they were alone at last, Hartley pushed his chair closer to +Coryndon and leaned forward. + +"One moment." Coryndon's voice was lowered slightly, and he strolled to +the door. + +"Boy," he called, and with amazing alacrity Hartley's servant appeared. + +"Tell my servant," he said, speaking in English, "that I want the cigar +tin." + +"Do you believe he was listening?" + +"I am sure of it." + +Hartley flushed angrily, and he was about to speak when Coryndon's man +came into the room, salaaming on the threshold, carrying a black tin. + +"Would you like a little stroll in the garden?" said Coryndon. "It would +be pleasant before we sit down," and Hartley followed him out. + +"Did you bring any cigars down?" + +Hartley spoke for the sake of saying something, more than for any +reasonable desire to know whether Coryndon had done so or not, and his +reply was a low, amused laugh. + +"In ten minutes Shiraz will do a little juggling for your servants," he +said placidly. "There are no cigars in the tin. I hope you didn't want +one, Hartley? He will probably tell them that I am a new arrival, +picked up by him at Bombay. Whatever he tells them, they will find him +amusing." + +A misty moonlight lighted the garden with a soft, yellow haze, and the +harsh rattling of night beetles sounded unusually loud and noisy in the +silence. + +"You said that you had just finished a job?" + +"I have, and now I am on leave. The Powers have given me four months, +and I am going to London to hear the Wagner Cycle. I promised myself +that long ago, and unless something very special crops up to prevent me, +I shall start in a week from now." + +They took another silent turn. + +"Did your last job work out?" + +"Yes. It took a long time, but I got back into touch with things I had +begun to forget, and it was interesting. Shall we go back into the +house?" + +"Come in here," said Hartley, taking his way into the sitting-room. "I +have some notes in my safe that I want you to look at. The truth is, +Coryndon, I'm tackling rather a nasty business, and if you can help me, +I'll be eternally grateful to you. It has got on my nerves." + +Coryndon bowed his head silently and drew up a chair near the table. All +the time that Hartley talked to him, he listened with close attention. +The Head of the Police went into the whole subject at length, telling +the story as it had happened, and leaving out, so far as he knew, no +point that bore upon the question. First he told of the disappearance of +the boy Absalom, the grief and frantic despair of Mhtoon Pah, and his +visit to Hartley in the very room where they sat. + +"He was away from the curio shop that night, you say?" + +"Yes, at the Pagoda. He is building a shrine there. His statement to me +was that he went away just after dark, and the boy had already left an +hour before." + +Coryndon said nothing, but waited for the rest of the story, and, bit by +bit, Hartley set it before him. + +"Heath saw Absalom, and admitted it to me," he said, pulling at his +short, red moustache. "Even then he showed a very curious amount of +irritation, and refused to say anything further. Then he lied to me when +I went to the house, and there is Atkins' testimony to the fact that he +is paying a man to keep quiet." + +"Has the man reappeared since?" + +"Not since I had the house watched." + +Coryndon's eyes narrowed and he moved his hands slightly. + +"Next there is the very trifling evidence of Mrs. Wilder. It doesn't +count for much, but it goes to prove that she knows something of Heath +which she won't give away. She knows something, or she wouldn't screen +him. That is simple deduction." + +"Quite simple." + +"Now, with reference to Joicey," went on Hartley, with a frown. "I don't +personally think that Joicey knows or remembers whether he did see +Heath. My Superintendent swears that he did go down Paradise Street on +the night of the twenty-ninth, but Joicey is ill, and he said he wasn't +in Mangadone then. He has been seedy for some time and may have mixed up +dates." + +"You attach no importance to him?" + +"Practically none." Hartley leaned back in his chair and lighted a +cheroot. + +Coryndon touched the piece of silk rag with his hand. + +"This rag business is out of place, taken in connection with Heath." + +"I don't accuse Heath, Coryndon, but I believe that he _knows_ where the +boy went. The last thing that was told me by Mhtoon Pah was that the +gold lacquer bowl that was ordered by Mrs. Wilder was found on the steps +of the shop. Though what that means, the devil only knows. Mhtoon Pah +considers it likely that the Chinaman, Leh Shin, put it there, but I +have absolutely nothing to connect Leh Shin with the disappearance, and +I have withdrawn the men who were watching the shop." + +"Interesting," said Coryndon slowly. + +"Can you give me any opinion? I'm badly in need of help." + +Coryndon shook his head, his hand still touching the stained rag idly. + +"I could give you none at all, on these facts." + +Hartley looked at him with a fixed and imploring stare. + +"In a place like this, to be the chief mover, the actual incentive to +disclosing God knows what, is simply horrible," he said in a rough, +pained voice. "I've done my share of work, Coryndon, and I've taken my +own risks, but any cases I've had against white men haven't been against +men like the Padre." + +Coryndon gave a little short sigh that had weariness in its sound, +weariness or impatience. + +"What you have told me involves three principals, and a score of +others." He was counting as he spoke. "Any one of them may be the man +you are looking for, only circumstances indicate one in particular. You +are satisfied that you have got the line. I could not confidently say +that you have, unless I had been working the case myself, and had +followed up every clue throughout." + +Hartley got up and paced the room, his hands deep in the pockets of his +dinner jacket. + +"I am convinced that Heath will have to be forced to speak, and, I may +as well be honest with you--I don't like forcing him." + +Coryndon was not watching his host, he was leaning back in his chair, +his eyes on a little spiral of smoke that circled up from his cigarette. + +"I wish that damned little Absalom had never been heard of, and that it +was anybody's business but mine to find him, if he is to be found." + +If Coryndon's finely-cut lips trembled into an instantaneous smile, it +passed almost at once, and he looked quietly round at Hartley, who still +paced, looking like an overgrown schoolboy in a bad mood. + +"I wish I could help you, Hartley, but I have not enough to go on. As +you say, the case is unusual, and it makes it impossible for me to +advise." He got up and stretched himself. "There is one thing I will +do, if you wish it, and, from what you said, you may wish it; I will +take over the whole thing--for my holiday, and the Wagner Cycle will +have to wait." + +Hartley came to a standstill before his guest. + +"You'll do that, Coryndon?" + +"The case interests me," said Coryndon, "otherwise, I should not suggest +it." He paused for a moment and reflected. "I shall have to make your +bungalow my headquarters; that is the simplest plan. Any absences may be +accounted for by shooting trips and that sort of thing. That part of it +is straightforward enough, and I can see the people I want to see." + +"You shall have a free hand to do anything you like," said Hartley. "And +any help that I can give you." + +Coryndon looked at him for a moment without replying. + +"Thank you, Hartley. Our methods are different, as you know, but when I +want you, I will tell you how you can help me." + +He walked across the room to where two tumblers and a decanter of whisky +stood on a tray, and, pouring himself out a glass of soda water, sipped +it slowly. + +"Here are my notes," said Hartley, in a voice of great relief. "They +will be useful for reference." + +Coryndon folded them up and put them in his pocket. + +"Most of what is there is also in my official report." + +Coryndon nodded his head, and, opening the piano, struck a light chord. +After a moment he sat down and played softly, and the air he played came +straight from the high rocks that guard the Afghan frontier. Like a +breeze that springs up at evening, the little love-song lilted and +whispered under his compelling fingers, and the "Song of the Broken +Heart" sang itself in the room of Hartley, Head of the Police. Where it +carried Coryndon no one could guess, but it carried Hartley into a very +rose-garden of sentimental fatuity, and when the music stopped he gave a +deep grunting sigh of content. + +"I'll get some honest sleep to-night," he said as they parted, and ten +minutes afterwards he was lying under his mosquito-curtains, oblivious +to the world. + +Coryndon's servant, Shiraz, was squatting across the door that led into +the veranda when his master came in, and he waited for his orders. He +would have sat anywhere for weeks, and had done so, to await the +doubtful coming of Coryndon, whose times and seasons no man knew. + +When he was gone, Coryndon took out the bulky packet of notes and +extracted the piece of rag, which he locked carefully away in a +dispatch-box. He then cleared a little space on the floor, and put the +papers lightly over one another. Setting a match to them, he watched +them light up and curl into brittle tinder, and dissolve from that stage +into a heap of charred ashes, which he gathered up with a careful hand +and put into the soft earth of a fern-box outside his veranda door. This +being done, he sat down and began to think steadily, letting the names +drift through his brain, one by one, until they sorted themselves, and +he felt for the most useful name to take first. + +"Joicey, the Banker, is a man of no importance," he murmured to himself, +and again he said, "Joicey the Banker." + +It was nearly dawn when he got between the cool linen sheets, and was +asleep almost as his dark head lay back against the soft white pillow. + + + + +XII + +SHOWS HOW A MAN MAY CLIMB A HUNDRED STEPS INTO A PASSIONLESS PEACE, AND +RETURN AGAIN TO A WORLD OF SMALL TORMENTS + + +By the end of a week Coryndon had slipped into the ways of Mangadone, +slipped in quietly and without causing much comment. He went to the Club +with Hartley and made the acquaintance of nearly all his host's friends, +and they, in return, gave him the casual notice accorded to a passing +stranger who had no part or lot in their lives or interests. Coryndon +was very quiet and listened to everything; he listened to a great deal +in the first three days, and Fitzgibbon, a barrister, offered to take +him round and show him the town. + +Coryndon was "shown the town," but apparently he found a lasting joy in +sight-seeing, and could witness the same sights repeatedly without +failing interest. He climbed the steps to the Pagoda, under the guidance +of Fitzgibbon, the first afternoon they met. + +"Won't you come, too, Hartley?" asked the Barrister. + +"Not if I know it. I've been there about sixty times. If Coryndon wants +to see it, I'm thankful to let him go there with you." + +Fitzgibbon, who had a craze for borrowing anything that he was likely +to want, had persuaded Prescott, the junior partner in a rice firm, to +lend him his car, and as he sat in the tonneau beside Coryndon, he +pointed out the places of interest. Their way lay first through the +residential quarter, and Hartley's guest saw the entrance gate and +gardens of Draycott Wilder's house. + +"The most interesting and certainly the best-looking woman in Mangadone +lives there, a Mrs. Wilder. Hartley ought to have told you about her; he +is rather favoured by the lady. Her husband is a rising civilian. Mrs. +Wilder has bought Asia, and is wondering whether she'll buy Europe +next." + +Coryndon hardly appeared impressed or even interested. + +"So she is a friend of Hartley's?" he said carelessly. "I hadn't heard +that." + +Fitzgibbon laughed. + +"It's something to be a friend of Mrs. Wilder--that is, in Mangadone." + +They sped on over the level road, and the car swung through the streets +that led towards the open space before the temple. + +"That is the curio dealer's shop. Don't get any of your stuff there. The +man's a robber." + +"Which shop?" asked Coryndon patiently. + +"We're past it now, but it was the one with a dancing man outside of it, +a funny little effigy." + +Coryndon's eyes were turned to the Pagoda, and he was evidently +inattentive. + +"It strikes you, doesn't it?" asked Fitzgibbon, in the tones of a +gratified showman. "It always does strike people who haven't seen it +before." + +"Naturally, when one has not seen it before," echoed his companion, as +the car drew up. + +Coryndon stood for a moment looking at the entrance, and surveying the +huge plaster dragons with their gaping mouths and vermilion-red tongues. +They were ranged up a green slope, two on either side of the brown +fretted roof that covered the steep tunnel that led up a flight of more +than a hundred steps to the flat plateau, where the golden spire towered +high over all, amid a crowd of lesser minarets. + +Surrounded by baskets of roses and orchids, little silk-clothed Burmese +girls sat on the entrance steps, and sold their wares. Fitzgibbon would +have hurried on, but Coryndon, in true tripper fashion, stopped and +bought an armful of blossoms. + +"What am I to do with these things?" he asked helplessly. + +"Oh, you'd better leave them before one of the _Gaudamas_, and acquire +merit. If you let them all plunder you like this, we'll never get to the +top." + +Flight after flight, the two men climbed slowly, and Coryndon stood at +intervals to watch the crowd that came up and down. The steps were so +steep that the arch above them only disclosed descending feet, but +Coryndon watched the feet appear first and then the rest of the hurrying +or loitering men and women, and he sat on a seat beside a little +gathering of yellow-robed _Hypongyis_ until Fitzgibbon lost all +patience. + +"There is a whole town of piety to see up at the top. Come on, man; we +have hours of it yet to get through. Don't waste time over those stalls. +Every picture of the Buddha story was made in Birmingham." + +Progressing a little faster, Fitzgibbon piloted Coryndon past a stall +where yellow candles and bundles of joss-sticks in red paper cases were +sold at a varying price. + +"I must get some of these," objected Coryndon, who added a rupee's worth +of incense and a white cheroot to his collection. + +When they passed through the last archway and gained the plateau, he +looked round with eyes that spoke his keen interest. Even though he had +been there many times before, Coryndon looked at the sight with eyes +that grew shadowed by the dreaming soul that lived within him. + +Twilight was gathering behind the trees; only the gold-laced spires of a +thousand minarets caught the last light of the sun. On the plateau below +the great pillar, that glimmered like a golden sword from base to +bell-hung _Htee_, lay what Fitzgibbon had described as "a little town of +piety." A village of shrines and Pagodas, each built with seven roofs, +open-fronted to disclose the holy place within; some large as a small +chapel; some small, giving room only for the figure of the _Gaudama_. +Here and there, the votive offerings had fallen into decay, and the +gold-leaf covering the Buddha was black and dilapidated by the passing +of years, for there is no merit to be acquired in rebuilding or +renovating a sacred place. From innumerable shrines, uncounted Buddhas +looked out with the same long, contemplative eyes; in bronze, in jade, +in white and black marble, in grey stone and gilded ebony, the +passionless face of the great Peace looked out upon his children. + +Near to where Coryndon and the Barrister stood together, in the +peach-coloured evening light, a large shrine with a fretted roof was +thronged with worshippers, and Coryndon stood on the steps and looked +in. The floor of black, polished marble dimly reflected the immense gold +pillars that supported a lofty ceiling, lost entirely in the gloom, and +before a blaze of candles and a floating veil of scented grey smoke a +priest bowed himself, and prayed in a low, chanting voice. The face of +the Lord Buddha behind the rails was lighted by the wind-blown flame of +many tapers, so that it almost looked as though he smiled out of his +far-away Nirvana upon his kneeling worshippers, who could ask nothing of +him, not even mercy, since the salvation of a man is in his own hands. + +Before the rails, a settle with low gilt legs was covered with offerings +of flowers, that added their scent to the heavy air, and on a small +table a feast of cakes and sweets was placed, to be distributed later on +among the poor. Coryndon disposed of his burden of pink and white roses +and little magenta prayer-flags, and lighted a bundle of joss-sticks, +before they came out again and wandered on. + +As the daylight faded the lights from the shrines and the small booths +grew stronger, and the rising night wind, coming in from the river, rang +the silver bells around the spires, filling the whole air with tinkling +sound, and the slow-moving crowd around them laughed and joked, like +people at a fair. His eyes still full of dreams, Coryndon followed with +them, keeping one small packet of amber candles to light in honour of +some other Buddha in another shrine. + +"Funny devils, these Burmese," remarked the Barrister. "They never clean +up anything. Look at the years of tallow collected under that spiked +gate that is falling off its hinges. That black little Buddha inside +must once have been a popular favourite, but no one gives him anything +now." + +They turned a corner past a booth where bottles full of pink and yellow +fluid, and green leaves, wrapped around betel-nut, appeared to be the +chief stock-in-trade, and a noise of hammering struck on their ears. +Here a new shrine was being erected and was all but completed. A few +Chinamen, who had been working at it, were putting their tools into +canvas bags, preparatory to withdrawing like the remaining daylight. + +"This is Mhtoon Pah's edifice," said Fitzgibbon, coming to a standstill. +"He doesn't seem to have spared expense, either. Shall we go in?" + +The shrine was not a very large one, and the entrance was like the +entrance to a grotto at an Exhibition. Tiny facets of glass were crusted +into grass-green cement, shining like a thousand eyes, and, seated on a +vermilion lacquer dais, a Buddha, with heavy eyelids that hid his +strange eyes, presided over an illumination of smoking flame. The smell +of joss-sticks was heavy on the air, and the filigree cloak worn by the +Buddha was enriched with red and green glass that shone and glittered. + +"They say the caste-mark in his forehead is a real diamond," remarked +the Barrister. "I don't suppose it is, but at least it is a good +imitation." + +Coryndon was not listening to him; he had gone close to the marble +rails, and was lighting his little bunch of yellow tapers. He lighted +them one by one, and put each one down on the floor very slowly and +carefully, and when he had finished he turned round. + +"Mhtoon Pah is the man who has the curio shop?" he asked. + +"The very same. It gives you some idea of his percentage on sales, +what?" + +Coryndon joined in his laugh, and they went out again into the street of +sanctity. Fitzgibbon was now getting exhausted, for his companion's +desire to "do" the Pagoda was apparently insatiable; and he asked +interminable questions that the Barrister was totally unable to answer. + +Coryndon seemed to find something fresh and interesting around every +corner. The white elephants delighted him, particularly where green +creepers had grown round their trunks, giving them a realistic effect of +enjoying a meal. The handles off very common English chests-of-drawers, +that were set along a rail enclosing a sleeping Buddha, pleased him like +a child, as did the bits of looking-glass with "Black and White Whisky," +or "Apollinaris Water," inscribed across their faces. + +"That sort of thing seems to attract them," explained Fitzgibbon. "In +one of the shrines there is a fancy biscuit-box at a Buddha's feet. It +has got 'Huntley and Palmer' on the top, and pictures of children and +swans all around it. Funny devils, I always say so." + +At length he had to drag Coryndon away, almost by main force. + +"I'd like to have seen Mhtoon Pah," he objected. "He ought to be on view +with his chapel." + +"Shrine, Coryndon. You can see him in his shop," and they began the +descent down the steep steps. + +"Look," said the Barrister quickly, "there is Mhtoon Pah. No, not the +man in white trousers, that's a Chinaman with a pigtail under his hat; +the fat old thing in the short silk _loongyi_ and crimson head-scarf." + +Coryndon hardly glanced at him, as he passed with a scent of spice and +sandal-wood in his garments; his attention had been attracted by a booth +where men were eating curry. + +"It is a curious custom to sell food in a place like this," he remarked +to the Barrister. + +"It's part of the Oriental mind," replied his guide. "No one understands +it. No one ever will; so don't try and begin, or you'll wear yourself +out." + +When they got back to the Club it was already late, and the hall of the +bar was crowded with men, standing together in groups, or sitting in +long, uncompromising chairs under the impression that they were +comfortable seats. + +"Hullo, Joicey," said the Barrister, as he fell over his legs. "I'm +dog-beat. Been doing the Pagoda with Coryndon. Do you know each +other--?" He waved his hand by way of introduction, and Coryndon took an +empty chair beside the Banker, who heaved himself up a little in his +seat, and signalled to a small boy in white, who was scuffling with +another small boy, also in white, and ordered some drinks. + +"I am new to it," explained Coryndon, and his voice sounded tired, as +though the Pagoda had been a little too much for him. + +Joicey did not reply; he was looking away, and Coryndon followed his +eyes. Near the wide staircase, and just about to go up it, a man was +standing, talking to a friend. He was dressed in an ill-cut suit of +white, with a V-shaped inlet of black under his round collar; he held a +_topi_ of an old pattern under his arm, and the light showed his face +cadaverous and worn. Joicey was holding the arm of his chair, and his +under-lip trembled. + +"Inexplicable," he muttered, and drank with a gulping sound. + +"What did you say?" asked Coryndon politely. + +"Say? Did I say anything? I can't remember that I did." The Banker's +voice was irritable, and he still watched the clergyman. + +"What strikes me about the Pagoda is the strong Chinese element in the +design. I am told that there are a lot of Chinamen in Mangadone. I +should like to see their quarter." + +"Hartley should be able to arrange that for you." + +Joicey was evidently growing tired of Coryndon's freshness and +enthusiasm, and he passed his hand over his face, as though the damp +heat of the night depressed his mind. + +"Hartley is very busy," said Coryndon, with the determination of a man +who intends to see what he has come to see. "I don't like to be +perpetually badgering him. Could I go alone?" + +"You could," said Joicey shortly. + +"I want to miss nothing." + +Coryndon turned his head away and looked at the crowded room, fixing his +gaze on a whirring fan that hung low on a brass rod, and when he looked +round again, Joicey had got up and was making his way out into the +night. Fitzgibbon was surrounded by several other men, and there was no +sign of his friend Hartley, so he got up and slipped out, standing +hatless, until his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. + +The strong lights from the veranda encroached some way into the gloom, +and, here and there, a few people still sat around basket tables, +enjoying the evening air. Coryndon looked at them, with his head bent +forward, a little like a cat just about to emerge through a door into a +dark passage. For a little time, he stood there, watching and listening, +and then he turned away and walked out along the footpath, as though in +a hurry to get back to his bungalow. + + + + +XIII + +PUTS FORWARD THE FACT THAT A SUDDEN FRIENDSHIP NEED NOT BE BASED UPON A +SUDDEN LIKING; AND PASSES THE NIGHT UNTIL DAWN REVEALS A SHAMEFUL SECRET + + +Some ten days after Coryndon had taken up his quarters with Hartley, he +informed his host that he intended to disappear for a time, and that he +would take his servant, Shiraz, with him. He had been through every +quarter of Mangadone before he set out to commence operations, and the +whole town lay clear as a map in his mind. + +Hartley was dining out, "dining at the Wilders'," he said casually, and +he further informed Coryndon that Mrs. Wilder had asked him to bring his +friend, but no amount of persuasion could induce Coryndon to forgo an +evening by himself. He pointed out to Hartley that he never went into +society, and that he found it a strain on his mind when he required to +think anything through, and, with a greater show of reluctance than he +really felt, Hartley conceded to his wish, and Coryndon sat down to a +solitary meal. He ate very sparingly and drank plain soda water, and +whilst he sat at the table his long, yellow-white fingers played on the +cloth, and his eyes followed the swaying punkah mat with an odd, +intense light in their inscrutable depths. + +He had made Hartley understand that he never talked over a case, and +that he followed it out entirely according to his own ideas, and Hartley +honestly respected his reserve, making no effort to break it. + +"When the hands are full, something falls to the ground and is lost," +Coryndon murmured to himself as he got up and went to his room. +"Shiraz," he called, "Shiraz," and the servant sprang like a shadow from +the darkness in response to his master's summons. + +"To-night I go out." Coryndon waved his hand. "To-morrow I go out, and +of the third day--I cannot tell. Let it be known to the servant people +that, like all travelling Sahibs, I wish to see the evil of the great +city. I may return with the morning, but it may be that I shall be +late." + +"_Inshallah, Huzoor_," murmured Shiraz, bowing his head, "what is the +will of the Master?" + +"A rich man is marked among his kind; where he goes the eyes of all men +turn to follow his steps, but the poor man is as a grain of sand in the +dust-storm of a Northern Province. Great are the blessings of the humble +and needy of the earth, for like the wind in its passing, they are +invisible to the eyes of men." + +Shiraz made no response; he lowered the green chicks outside the doors +and windows, and opened a small box, battered with age and wear. + +"The servant's box is permitted to remain in the room of the Lord +Sahib," he said with a low chuckle. "When asked of my effrontery in this +matter, I reply that the Lord Sahib is ignorant, that he minds not the +dignity of his condition, and behold, it is never touched, though the +leathern box of the Master has been carefully searched by Babu, the +butler of Hartley Sahib, who knows all that lies folded therein." + +While he spoke he was busy unwrapping a collection of senah bundles, +which he took out from beneath a roll of dusters and miscellaneous +rubbish, carefully placed on the top. The box had no lock and was merely +fastened with a bit of thick string, tied into a series of cunning +knots. + +When he had finished unpacking, he laid a faded strip of +brightly-coloured cotton on the bed, in company with a soiled jacket and +a tattered silk head-scarf, and, as Shiraz made these preparations, +Coryndon, with the aid of a few pigments in a tin box, altered his face +beyond recognition. He wore his hair longer than that of the average +man, and, taking his hair-brushes, he brushed it back from his temples +and tied a coarse hank of black hair to it, and knotted it at the back +of his head. He dressed quickly, his slight, spare form wound round the +hips with a cotton _loongyi_, and he pulled on the coat over a thin, +ragged vest, and sat down, while Shiraz tied the handkerchief around his +head. + +The art of make-up is, in itself, simple enough, but the very much more +subtle art of expression is the gift of the very few. It was hard to +believe that the slightly foreign-looking young man with Oriental eyes +could be the pock-marked, poverty-stricken Burman who stood in his +place. + +Slipping on a light overcoat, he pulled a large, soft hat over his head, +and walked out quickly through the veranda. + +"Now, then, Shiraz," he called out in a quick, ill-tempered voice. "Come +along with the lamp. Hang it; you know what I mean, the _butti_. These +infernal garden-paths are alive with snakes." + +Shiraz hastened after him, cringing visibly, and swinging a hurricane +lamp as he went. When they had got clear of the house and were near the +gate, Coryndon spoke to him in a low voice. + +"Pull my boots off my feet." Shiraz did as he was bidden and slipped his +master's feet into the leather sandals which he carried under his wide +belt. "Now take the coat and hat, and in due time I shall return, though +not by day. Let it be known that to-morrow we take our journey of seven +days; and it may be that to-morrow we shall do so." + +"_Inshallah_," murmured Shiraz, and returned to the house. + +By night the streets of Mangadone were a sight that many legitimate +trippers had turned out to witness. The trams were crowded and the +native shops flared with light, for the night is cool and the day hot +and stifling; therefore, by night a large proportion of the inhabitants +of Mangadone take their pleasure out of doors. In the Berlin Cafe the +little tables were crowded with those strange anomalies, black men and +women in European clothes. There had been a concert in the Presentation +Hall, and the audience nearly all reassembled at the Berlin Cafe for +light refreshments when the musical programme was concluded. + +Paradise Street was not behindhand in the matter of entertainment: there +was a wedding festival in progress, and, at the modest cafe, a thick +concourse of men talking and singing and enjoying life after their own +fashion; only the house of Mhtoon Pah, the curio dealer, was dark, and +it was before this house, close to the figure of the pointing man, that +the weedy-looking Burman who had come out of Hartley's compound stopped +for a moment or two. He did not appear to find anything to keep him +there; the little man had nothing better to offer him than a closed +door, and a closed door is a definite obstacle to anyone who is not a +housebreaker, or the owner with a key in his pocket; so, at least, the +Burman seemed to think, for he passed on up the street towards the river +end. + +From there to the colonnade where the Chinese Quarter began was a +distance of half a by-street, and Coryndon slid along, apologetically +close to the wall. He avoided the policeman in his blue coat and high +khaki turban, and his manner was generally inoffensive and harmless as +he sneaked into the low entrance of Leh Shin's lesser curio shop. A +large coloured lantern hung outside the inner room, and a couple of +candles did honour to the infuriated Joss who capered in colour on the +wall. + +All the hidden vitality of the man seemed to live in every line of his +lithe body as he looked in, but it subsided again as he entered, and he +stared vacantly around him. + +There was no one in the shop but Leh Shin's assistant, who was finishing +a meal of cold pork, and whose heavy shoulders worked with his jaws. He +ceased both movements when Coryndon entered, and continued again as he +spoke, the flap of his tweed hat shaking like elephants' ears. He +informed Coryndon, who spoke to him in Yunnanese, that Leh Shin was out, +so that if he had anything to sell, he would arrange the details of the +bargain, and if he wanted to buy, he could leave the price of the +article with the trusted assistant of Leh Shin. + +It took Coryndon some time to buy what he needed, which appeared to be +nothing more interesting than a couple of old boxes. The Burman needed +these to pack a few goods in, as he meditated inhabiting the empty, +rat-infested house next door but one to the shop of Leh Shin. Upon +hearing that they were to be neighbours, the assistant grew sulky and +informed Coryndon that trade was slack if he wished to sell anything, +but his eyes grew crafty again when he was informed that his new +acquaintance did not act for himself, but for a friend from Madras, who +having made much money out of a Sahib, whose bearer he had been for some +years, desired to open business in a small way with sweets and grain and +such-like trifles, whereby to gain an honest living. + +The assistant glanced at the clock, when, after much haggling, the deal +was concluded, and the Burman knotted the remainder of his money in a +small corner of his _loongyi_, and stood rubbing his elbows, looking at +the Chinaman, who appeared restless. + +"Where shall I find Leh Shin?" The Burman put the question suddenly. "In +what house am I to seek him, assistant of the widower and the +childless?" + +The boy leered and jerked his thumb towards the direction of the river. + +"Closed to-night, follower of the Way," he said with a smothered noise +like a strangled laugh. "Closed to-night. Every door shut, every light +hidden, and those who go and demand the dreams cannot pass in. I, only, +know the password, since my master receives high persons." He spat on +the floor. + +Coryndon bowed his head in passive subjection. + +"None else know my quantity," he murmured. "These thieves in the lesser +streets would mix me a poison and do me evil." + +The assistant scratched his head diligently and looked doubtfully at the +Burman. + +"And yet I cannot remember thy face." + +"I have been away up the big river. I have travelled far to that Island, +where I, with other innocent ones, suffered for no fault of mine." + +Leh Shin's assistant looked satisfied. If the Burman were but lately +returned from the convict settlement on the Andaman Islands, it was +quite likely that he might not have been acquainted with him. + +To all appearances, the bargain being concluded, and Leh Shin being +absent from the shop, there was nothing further to keep the customer, +yet he made no sign of wishing to leave, and, after a little preamble, +he invited the assistant to drink with him, since, he explained, he +needed company and had taken a fancy to the Chinese boy, who, in his +turn, admitted to a liking for any man who was prepared to entertain him +free of expense. Leh Shin's assistant could not leave the shop for +another hour, so the Burman, who did not appear inclined to wait so +long, went out swiftly, and came back with a bottle of native spirit. + +Fired by the fumes of the potent and burning alcohol, the Chinaman +became inquisitive, and wished to hear the details of the crime for +which his new friend had so wrongfully suffered. He looked so evil, so +greasy, and so utterly loathsome that he seemed to fascinate the Burman, +who rocked himself about and moaned as he related the story of his +wrong. His words so excited the ghoulish interest of his listener that +his bloated body quivered as he drank in the details. + +"And so ends the tale of his great evil; he that was my friend," said +Coryndon, rising from his heels as he finished his story. "The hour +grows late and there is no comfort in the night, since I may not find +oblivion." He passed his hand stupidly over his forehead. "My memory is +lost, flapping like an owl in the sunlight; once the road to the house +by the river lay before me as the lines upon my open palm, but now the +way is no longer clear." + +"I have said that it is closed to-night, so none may enter. There is a +password, but I alone know it, and I may not tell it, friend of an evil +man." + +"There are other nights," whined the Burman, "many of them in the +passing of a year. When I have the knowledge of thee, then may I seek +and find later." He rubbed his knees with an indescribable gesture of +mean cringing. + +The Chinese boy drank from the bottle and smacked his lips. + +"Hear, then, thou convict," he said in a shrill hectoring voice. "By the +way of Paradise Street, along the wharf and past the waste place where +the tram-line ends and the houses stand far apart. Of the houses of +commerce, I do not speak; of the mat houses where the Coringyhis live, I +do not speak, but beyond them, open below to the water-snakes, and built +above into a secret place, is the house we know of, but Leh Shin is not +there for thee to-night, as I have already spoken." + +He felt in the pouch at his waist for a rank black cigar, which he +pushed into his mouth and lighted with a sulphur match. + +"Who fries the mud fish when he may eat roast duck?" he said, with a +harsh cackle that made the Burman start and stare at him. + +"_Aie! Aie!_ I do not understand thy words." The Burman's face grew +blank and he went to the door. + +"Neither do you need to, son of a chained monkey," retorted the boy, +full of strong liquor and arrogance. "But I tell thee, I and my mate, +Leh Shin, hold more than money between the finger and the thumb,"--he +pinched his forefinger against a mutilated thumb. "More than money, +see, fool; thou understandest nothing, thy brain is left along with thy +chains in the Island which is known unto thee." + +"Sleep well," said the Burman. "Sleep well, child of the Heavens, I +understand thee not at all," and with a limp shrug of his shoulders, he +slid out of the narrow door into the night. + +Coryndon gave one glance at the sky; the dawn was still far off, but in +spite of this he ran up the deserted colonnade and walked quickly down +Paradise Street, which was still awake and would be awake for hours. +Once clear of the lessening crowd and on to the wharf, he ran again; +past the business houses, past the long quarter where the Coringyhis and +coolie-folk lived, and, lastly, with a slow, lurking step, to the close +vicinity of a house standing alone upon high supports. He skirted round +it, but to all appearances it was closed and empty, and he sat down +behind a clump of rough elephant-grass and tucked his heels under him. + +His original idea, on coming out, had been merely to get into touch with +Leh Shin, and make the way clear for his coming to the small, empty +house close to the shop of the ineffectual curio dealer, and now he +knew, through his fine, sharp instinct, that he was close upon the track +of some mystery. It might have nothing to do with the disappearance of +the Christian boy, Absalom, or it might be a thread from the hidden +loom, but, in any case, Coryndon determined to wait and see what was +going to happen. He was well used to long waiting, and the Oriental +strain in his blood made it a matter of no effort with him. Someone was +hidden in the lonely house, some man who paid heavily for the privacy of +the waterside opium den, and Coryndon was determined to discover who +that man was. + +The night was fair and clear, and the murmur of the tidal river gentle +and soothing, and as he sat, well hidden by the clump of grass, he went +over the events of the evening and thought of the face of Leh Shin's +assistant. Hartley had spoken of the bestial creature in tones of +disgust, but Hartley had not seen him to the same peculiar advantage. +Line by line, Coryndon committed the face to his indelible memory, +looking at it again in the dark, and brooding over it as a lover broods +over the face of the woman he loves, but from very different motives. He +was assured that no cruelty or wickedness that mortal brain could +imagine would be beyond the act of this man, if opportunity offered, and +he was attracted by the psychological interest offered to him in the +study of such a mind. + +The ripples whispered below him, and, far away, he heard the chiming of +a distant clock striking a single note, but he did not stir; he sat like +a shadow, his eyes on the house, that rose black, silent, and, to all +appearances, deserted, against the starry darkness of the sky. He had +got his facts clear, so far as they went, and his mind wandered out with +the wash of the water, and the mystery of the river flowed over him; the +silent causeway leading to the sea, carrying the living on its bosom, +and bearing the dead beneath its brown, sucking flow, full of its own +life, and eternally restless as the sea tides ebbed and flowed, yet +musical and wild and unchanged by the hand of man. Coryndon loved moving +waters, and he remembered that somewhere, miles away from Mangadone, he +had played along a river bank, little better than the small native +children who played there now, and he saw the green jungle-clearing, the +red road, and the roof of his father's bungalow, and he fancied he could +hear the cry of the paddy-birds, and the voices of the water-men who +came and went through the long, eventless days. + +Even while he thought, he never moved his eyes from the house. Suddenly +a light glimmered for a moment behind a window, and he sat forward +quickly, forgetting his dream, and becoming Coryndon the tracker in the +twinkling flash of a second. The inmates of the house were stirring at +last, and Coryndon lay flat behind his clump of grass and hardly +breathed. + +He could hear a door open softly, and, though it was too dark to discern +anything, he knew that there was a man on the veranda, and that the man +slipped down the staircase, where he stood for a moment and peered +about. He moved quietly up the path and watched it for a few minutes, +and then slid back into the house again. Coryndon could hear whispers +and a low, growled response, and then another figure appeared, a Sahib +this time, by his white clothes. He used no particular caution, and came +heavily down the staircase, that creaked under his weight, and took the +track by which Coryndon had come. + +Silhouetted against the sky, Coryndon saw the head and neck of a +Chinaman, and he turned his eyes from the man on the path to watch this +outline intently; it was thin, spare and vulture-like. Evidently Leh +Shin was watching his departing guest with some anxiety, for he peered +and craned and leaned out until Coryndon cursed him from where he lay, +not daring to move until he had gone. + +At last the silhouette was withdrawn and the Chinaman went back into the +house. He had hardly done so when Coryndon was on his feet, running +hard. He ran lightly and gained the road just as the man he followed +turned the corner by Wharf Street and plodded on steadily. In the +darkness of the night there are no shadows thrown, but this man had a +shadow as faithful as the one he knew so well and that was his companion +from sunrise to sunset, and close after him the poor, nameless Burman +followed step for step through the long path that ended at the house of +Joicey the Banker. + +Coryndon watched him go in, heard him curse the _Durwan_, and then he +ran once more, because the stars were growing pale and time was +precious. He was weary and tired when he crept into the compound outside +the sleeping bungalow on the hill-rise, and he stood at the gate and +gave a low, clear cry, the cry of a waking bird, and a few minutes +afterwards Coryndon followed Joicey's example and cursed the _Durwan_, +kicking him as he lay snoring on his blanket. + +"Open the door, you swine," he said in the angry voice of a belated +reveller, "and don't wake the house with that noise." + +Even when he was in his room and delivered himself over to the +ministrations of Shiraz, he did not go to bed. He had something to think +over. He knew that he had established the connection between Joicey the +Banker and the spare, gaunt Chinaman who kept a shop for miscellaneous +wares in the dark colonnade beyond Paradise Street. Joicey had a short +memory: he had forgotten whether he had met the Rev. Francis Heath on +the night of the 29th of July, and had imagined that he was not there, +that he was away from Mangadone; and as Coryndon dropped off to sleep, +he felt entirely convinced that, if necessary, he could help Joicey's +memory very considerably. + + + + +XIV + +TELLS HOW SHIRAZ, THE PUNJABI, ADMITTED THE FRAILTIES OF ORDINARY +HUMANITY, AND HOW CORYNDON ATTENDED AFTERNOON SERVICE AND CONSIDERED THE +VEXED QUESTION OF TEMPERAMENT. + + +The day following Coryndon's vigil outside the lonely house by the river +was dull and grey, with a woolly sky and a tepid stillness that hung +like a tangible weight in the air. Its drowsiness affected even the +native quarter, but it in no way lessened the bustle of preparations for +departure on the part of Coryndon, who ordered Shiraz to pack enough +clothes for a short journey, and to hold himself in readiness to leave +with his master shortly after sunrise the following day. His master also +gave him leave to go to the Bazaar and return at his own discretion, as +he was going out with Hartley Sahib. + +It was about noon, when the sun had struggled clear of the heavy clouds, +that Shiraz found himself in the dark colonnade locking an empty house +behind him with his own key, and, being a stately, red-bearded follower +of the Prophet, with a general appearance of wealth and dignity, he +walked slowly until he came to the doorway of Leh Shin's shop. His step +caused the Chinaman to look up from the string bed where he lay, gaunt, +yellow and unsavoury, his dark clothes contrasting with the flowing +white garments of the venerable man who regarded him through his +spectacles. + +"The hand of Allah has led me to this place," said Shiraz in his low, +reflective tones. "I seek for a little prayer-mat and a few bowls of +brass for my food; likewise, a bed for myself, and a bed of lesser value +for my companion. Hast thou these things, Leh Shin?" + +Leh Shin went into his back premises and returned with the bowls and the +prayer-mat. + +"The bed for thyself, O Haj, and the bed of lesser value for thy friend, +I shall make shift to procure. Presently I will send my assistant, the +eyes of my encroaching age, to bring what you need." + +"It is well," said Shiraz, who was seated on a low stool near the door, +and who looked with contemplative eyes into the shop. + +Leh Shin huddled himself on to the string couch again, and the slow +process of bargain-driving began. Pice by pice they argued the question, +and at last Shiraz produced a handful of small coin, which passed from +him to the Chinaman. + +"I had already heard of thee," said Leh Shin, scratching his loose +sleeves with his long, claw-like fingers. "But thy friend, the Burman, +who spoke beforehand of thy coming, and who still recalls the mixture of +his opium pipe, I cannot remember." He hunched his shoulders. "Yet even +that is not strange. My house by the river is a house of many faces, +yet all who dream wear the same face in the end," his voice crooned +monotonously. "All in the end, from living in the world of visions, +become the same." + +Shiraz bowed his head with grave courtesy. + +"It was also told to me that you served a rich master and have stored up +wealth." + +"The way of honesty is never the path to wealth," responded Shiraz, in +tones of reproof. "So it is written in the Koran." + +Leh Shin accepted the ambiguous reply with an unmoved face. + +"Thy friend is under the hand of devils?" + +He put the remark as an idle question. + +"He is tormented," replied Shiraz, pulling at his beard. "He is much +driven by thoughts of evil, committed, such is his dream, by another +than himself; and yet the _Sirkar_ hath said that the crime was his own. +The ways of Allah are veiled, and Mah Myo is without doubt no longer +reasonable; yet he is my friend, and doth greatly profit thereby." + +"Ah, ah," said the Chinaman, placing a hubble-bubble before his guest, +who condescended to shut the mouthpiece in under his long moustache, +while he sat silently for nearly half an hour. + +"Dost thou sell beautiful things, Leh Shin?" he asked. "I have a gift to +bestow, and my mind troubles me. The Lady Sahib of my late master +suffered misfortune. She was robbed by some unknown son of a jackal, and +thereby lost jewels, the value of which was said to be great, though I +know not of the value of such things." + +Leh Shin curled his bare toes on the edge of his bed and looked at them +with a great appearance of interest. + +"Was the thief taken, O son of a Prophet?" + +"He was not. I have cried in the veranda, to see the Lady Sahib's +sorrow, and I have also prayed and made many offerings at the Mosque, +but the thief escaped. Now that my service with the Lord Sahib is +finished, and as he has assisted my poverty with small gifts, I would +like to make a present to the Lady Sahib. Some trifling thing, costing a +small sum in rupees, for her grief was indeed great, and it may avail to +console her sorrow." + +"For which sorrow thou, also, wept in the veranda," added Leh Shin. + +"The Lady Sahib had many bowls of lacquer, some green, some red, some +spotted like the back of a poison snake, but she lacked a golden bowl, +and, should I be able to procure one for a moderate price, it would add +greatly to her pleasure in remembering her servant, for, says not the +Wise One, 'a gift is a small thing, but the hand that holds it may not +be raised to smite.'" + +Shiraz, all the time he was speaking, had regarded the Chinaman from +behind his respectable gold-rimmed spectacles, and he noticed that Leh +Shin did not seem to care for the subject of lacquer, for his face +darkened and he stopped scratching. + +"I deal not in lacquer," he said quickly. "Neither touch thou the +accursed thing, O Shiraz. Leave it to Mhtoon Pah, who is a sorcerer and +whose lies mount as high as the topmost pinnacle of the Pagoda." The +Chinaman's lips drew back from his teeth, and he snarled like a dog. "I +will not speak of him to thee, but I would that the face of Mhtoon Pah +was under my heel, and his eyeballs under my thumbs." + +"Yet this golden bowl has been in my thought," the voice of Shiraz +flowed on evenly. "And I said that here, in Mangadone, I might find such +an one. Thou art sure that lacquer is accursed to thine eyes, Leh Shin? +That thou hast not such a bowl by thee, neither that thy assistant, when +he seeks the bed for myself and the lesser bed for my friend, could not +look craftily into the shop of this merchant, and ask the price as he +passeth, if so be that Mhtoon Pah has such a bowl to sell?" + +Leh Shin spat ferociously. + +"There was a bowl, a bowl such as you describe, O servant of Kings, and +I thought to procure it, for word was brought me that Mhtoon Pah had +need of it, and I desired to hold it before him and withdraw it again, +and to inspire his covetousness and rage and then to sell it from my own +hand, but he leagues with devils and his power is great, for, behold, +Honourable Haj, the bowl that was mine was lost by the man from the seas +who was about to sell it to me. Lost, in all truth, and after the lapse +of many days, Mhtoon Pah had it in his shop, and sold it to the Lady +Sahib." + +"The hands of a man of wealth are more than two," said Shiraz +oracularly. + +"Nay, not so, for all thy learning, Pilgrim from the Shrine of Mahomet. +The hands of this merchant, at the time I speak, were as my hands, or +thine," he held out his claws and snatched at the air as though it was +his enemy's throat. "For his boy, his assistant, the Christian Absalom, +who served him well, and whom Mhtoon Pah fed upon sweets from the +vendor's stall, was suddenly taken from him, and has vanished, like the +smoke of an opium pipe." + +Shiraz expressed wonder, and agreed with Leh Shin that sorcery had been +used, shaking his head gravely and at length rising to his feet. + +"The shadows lengthen and the hour of prayer draws near. It is time for +the follower of the Prophet to give a poor man's alms at the gate of the +Mosque, and to pray and praise," he said. "Thy assistant tarries, Leh +Shin; let him go forth with speed and place my purchase in thy keeping, +since I met thee in a happy hour, and shall return upon the morrow from +the _Serai_, where it is Allah's will that I pass the night in peace." + +Walking with a slow, regular pace, he left the native quarter, and +taking a tram, got out on the road below the bungalow where Hartley's +servant waited in the veranda. + +"Thy Sahib has cursed thy beard and thine age, and says that he will +replace thee with a younger man if thy dealings in the Bazaar are of +such long duration." + +"Peace, owl," said Shiraz. "The Sahib can no more travel without my +assistance than a babe of one day without his mother. Presently, when +the Sahib has drunk a peg, he will return to reason." + +"The Sahib is not within; he has but now gone out once more, asking +from my Sahib for the loan of a prayer-book. Doubtless, there is a +_Tamasha_ at the 'Kerfedril,' and Coryndon Sahib goes thither to pray." + +"I shall place the buttons in his shirt, and recover an eight-anna piece +from the floor, which the master dropped yesterday, to deliver to him +when he shall return. Seek to be honest in thy youth, my son, for in +later life it will repay thee." + +Hartley's boy had not been mistaken when he heard Coryndon ask for a +prayer-book and saw him go out on foot. The small persistent bell +outside St. Jude's Church was ringing with desperate energy to collect +any worshippers who might feel inclined to assemble there for evensong, +and the worshippers when collected under the tin roof numbered nearly a +dozen. + +It was a bare, barn-like Church, for the wealth of the Cantonment had +flowed in the direction of the Cathedral. The punkah mats flapped +languidly, and the lower part of the church was dark, only the chancel +being lighted with ungainly punkah-proof lamps, and the two altar +candles that threw their gleam on a plain gold cross, guttered in the +heat. A strip of cocoa-nut matting lay along the aisle, and the chancel +and altar steps were covered in sad, faded red. The organist did not +attend except on Sundays or Feast Days, and the service was plain, +conducted throughout by the Rev. Francis Heath. + +Coryndon took a seat about half-way up the nave, and when Heath came +into the church, he watched him with interest. He liked to watch a man, +whom it was his business to study, without being disturbed, and Heath's +face in profile, as he knelt at the reading desk, or in full sight as he +stood to read the lesson, attracted the fixed gaze of, at least, one +member of the small congregation. There was no sermon and the service +was short, and as he sat quietly in his place, Coryndon wondered what +frenzied moment of fear or despair could have driven this man into the +company of Joicey and Mrs. Draycott Wilder, unconscious perhaps of their +connection with him, but linked nevertheless by an invisible thread that +wound around them all. + +Beyond the fact that he had seen Mrs. Wilder, he had not taken her under +the close observation of his mental microscope. She stood on one side +until such time as he should have need to probe into her reasons for +silence, and he wondered if Hartley was right, and if, by chance, the +earnest face of the clergyman, with its burning, stricken eyes, had +appealed to her sympathy. Could it be so, he asked himself once or +twice, but the immediate question was the one that Coryndon gave his +mind to answer, and just then he was forming an impression of the Rev. +Francis Heath. + +He looked at his hands, at his thin neck, at the hollows in his cheeks +and the emotional quiver at the corner of his mouth, and he knew the man +was a fanatic, a civilized fanatic, but desperately and even horribly in +earnest. A believer in torment, a man who held the vigorous faith that +makes for martyrdom and can also pile wood for the fires that burn the +bodies of others for the eventual welfare of their souls. +Unquestionably, the Rev. Francis Heath was a man not to be judged by an +average inch rule, and Coryndon thought over him as he listened to his +voice and watched his strained, tempest-tossed face. Whether he was +involved in the disappearance of Absalom or not, he recognized that +Heath was a strong man, and that his ill-balanced force would need very +little to make him a violent man. It surprised him less to think that +Hartley attached suspicion to the Rector of St. Jude's than it had at +first, and he left the church with a very clear impression of the +clergyman put carefully away beside his appreciation of Leh Shin's +assistant. He had caught just a glimpse of the personality of the man, +and was busy building it up bit by bit, working out his idea by first +trying to fathom the temperament that dwelt in the spare body and drove +and wore him hour after hour. + +The Rev. Francis Heath had paid some Chinaman to keep silence, but +though he might pay a Chinaman, he could do nothing with his own +conscience, and it was with a hidden adversary that he wrestled day and +night. Coryndon's face was pitiless as the face of a vivisecting +surgeon. Had she known of his mission, Mrs. Wilder might have beaten her +beautiful head on the stones under his feet, and she would have gained +nothing whatever of concession or mercy. + +Atkins and the Barrister were dining with Hartley that night, and as +Coryndon never cared to hurry over his dressing, he went at once to his +room and called Shiraz. + +"All is well, my Master," said Shiraz, in a low voice. "But it would be +wise if the Master were to curse his servant in a loud voice, since it +is expected that he will do so, and the monkey-folk in the servants' +quarter listen without, concealing their pleasure in the Sahib's wrath." + +When the proceedings terminated and Coryndon had accepted his servant's +long excuse for his delay, the doors were closed, Shiraz having first +gone out to shake his fist at Hartley's boy. + +"Thus much have I discovered, Lord Sahib," said Shiraz, when he had +explained that the house was in readiness and the necessary furniture +bought and stored temporarily at the shop of Leh Shin, the Chinaman. +"There is an old hate between these two men, he of the devil shop, and +the Chinaman, a hate as old as rust that eats into an iron bar." + +Coryndon lay back in his chair and listened without remark. + +"Among many lies told unto me, that is true; and again, among many lies, +it is also true that he had not, neither did he ever possess, the gold +lacquer bowl, on the subject of which my Master bade me question him. He +knows not how Mhtoon Pah found it, but he believes that it was through a +sorcery he practised, for the man is as full of evil as the chatti +lifted from the brink of the well is full of water." + +Coryndon smiled and glanced at Shiraz. + +"And you think so also, grandson of a Tucktoo, for though you are old, +your white hairs bring you no wisdom." + +"I am the Sahib's servant, but who knoweth the ways of devils, since +their footprints cannot be seen, neither upon the sand of the desert nor +in the snows of the great hills?" + +"Did he speak of Absalom?" + +"He told me, Protector of the Poor, that the boy, though of Christian +caste, was to Mhtoon Pah as the apple of his eye, and that he fed him +upon sweets from the vendor's stall. Let it be said, for thy wisdom to +unravel, that therefore Leh Shin felt mirth in his mind, knowing that +the heart of his foe was wrung as the _Dhobie_ wrings the soiled +garment." + +Shiraz fell silent and looked up from the floor at the face of his +master, who got up and stretched himself. + +"Is my bath ready, Shiraz?" + +"All is prepared, though the _pani walla_, a worker of iniquity, steals +the wood for his own burning; therefore, the water is not hot, and ill +is done to the good name of Hartley Sahib's house." + +When he was dressed he strolled into the drawing-room, and sat down at +the piano, playing softly until Hartley came in. + +"Shall you be away long, do you suppose?" he asked, looking with +interest at Coryndon's smooth, black head. + +"I may be, but it is impossible to tell. If I want you, I will send a +message by Shiraz." + +The dinner passed off without incident, and not once did Coryndon open +the secret door of his mind, to add to the strange store of facts he had +gathered there. He wanted nothing from Atkins, who knew less of the Rev. +Francis Heath than he did himself, and he had to sustain his role of +ignorance of the country. The two men stayed late, and it seemed to +Coryndon that when men talk they do more than talk, they tell many +things unconsciously. + +Perhaps, if people realized, as Coryndon realized, the value of +restrained speech, we should know less of our neighbours' follies and +weaknesses than we do. There was a noticeable absence of interest in +what anyone else had to say. Atkins had his own foible, Fitzgibbon his, +and Hartley, who knew more of the ways of men, a more interesting, but +not less egoistic platform from which he desired to speak. They seemed +to stalk naked and unashamed before the eyes of the one man who never +gave a definite opinion, and who never asserted his own theories or +urged his own philosophy of life. + +Coryndon listened because it amused him faintly, but he was glad when +the party broke up and they left. What a planet of words it was, he +thought, as he sat in his room and reflected over the day. Words that +ought to carry value and weight, but were treated like so many loose +pebbles cast into void space; and he wondered as he thought of it; and +from wondering at the wordy, noisy world in which he found himself, he +went on to wonder at the greater silence that was so much more powerful +than words. "The value of mystery," was the phrase that presented itself +to his mind. + +During the evening, three men had enjoyed all the pleasure of +self-betrayal, and, from the place where he stood, unable ever to +express anything of his own nature in easy speech, he wondered at them, +with almost childlike astonishment. Fitzgibbon, garrulous and loose of +tongue, Atkins, precise and easily heated to wrath, conscious of some +hidden fear that his dignity was not sufficiently respected, and +Hartley, who had something to say, but who oversaid it, losing grip +because of his very insistence. Not one of them understood the value of +reserve, and all alike strove to proclaim themselves in speech, not +knowing that speech is an unsound vehicle for the unwary, and that +personality disowns it as a medium. + +Out of the mouth of a man comes his own condemnation: let him prosper +who remembers this truth. The value of mystery, the value of silence, +and above all things, the supreme value of a tongue that is a servant +and not a master; Coryndon considered these values and wondered again at +the garrulity of men. Talk, the fluid, ineffectual force that fills the +world with noise, that kills illusions and betrays every latent +weakness; surely the high gods laughed when they put a tongue in the +mouth of man. He pinched his lips together and his eyes lighted with a +passing smile of mirth. + +"In Burma, there are no clappers to the bells," he said to himself. +"Each man must strike hard before sound answers to his hand, and truly +it is well to think of this at times." And, still amused by the fleeting +memory of the evening, he went to bed and slept. + + + + +XV + +IN WHICH THE FURTHERING OF A STRANGE COMRADESHIP IS CONTINUED, AND A +BEGGAR FROM AMRITZAR CRIES IN THE STREETS OF MANGADONE + + +Trade was slack in the shop of Leh Shin, the Chinaman. He had sat in the +odorous gloom and done little else than feel his arms and rub his legs, +for the greater part of the day. His new acquaintance, Shiraz, had taken +over possession of his goods, scrutinizing them with care before he did +so, in case the brass pots had been exchanged in the night for inferior +pots of smaller circumference, and in the end he had departed into his +own rat-burrow, two doors up the street, where his friend the Burman was +already established in a gloomy corner. Leh Shin heard of this through +his assistant, who had followed the coolie into the house, and +investigated the premises as he stood about, with offers of assistance +for his excuse. + +"They have naught with them, save only a box that has no lock upon it, +and also the boxes bought from thy shop, Leh Shin, but these are empty, +for I looked closely, when they talked in the hither room, where they +are minded to live. Jewels, didst thou say? Then that fox with the red +beard has sold them and the money is stored in some place of security." + +"Ah, ah," said the Chinaman, his eyes dull and fixed. + +"And 'ah, ah' to thee," retorted the assistant, who found the response +lacking in interest. "I would I knew where it was hidden." + +With a sudden change of manner he squatted near the ear of Leh Shin and +talked in a soft whisper. + +"Is not the time ripe, O wise old man, is not the hour come when thou +mayst go to the house of the white Sahib and demand a piece for closed +lips?" + +He pursed up his small mouth and pointed at it. + +Leh Shin shook his head. + +"I am already paid, and I will not demand further, lest he, whom we know +of, come no more. Drive not the spent of strength; since the price is +sufficient, I may not demand more, lest I sin in so doing." + +The assistant glared at him with angry eyes. + +"Fool, and thrice fool," he muttered under his breath, but Leh Shin did +not heed him, and did not even appear to hear what he said. For a long +time the old Chinaman seemed wrapped in his thought, and at last he got +up, and leaving the shop, went towards the principal Joss House that +faced the river. + +Coryndon had chosen the empty shop in the Colonnade for two reasons. It +was near Leh Shin, and near the strange assistant, who interested him +nearly as much as Leh Shin himself, and also it had the additional +advantage of being the last house in the block. A narrow alley full of +refuse of every description lay between it and the next block, and the +rickety house had doors that opened to the front, and to the side, and +by way of a dark lane directly from the back, making ingress or egress a +matter of wide choice. + +The shop front was shuttered, and left to the rats and cockroaches, and +up a flight of decrepit and shaky stairs, Shiraz had made what shift he +could to provide comfort for his master in the least dilapidated room in +the house. The walls were thin, and the plaster of the low ceiling was +smoke-grimed and dirty. The "bed of lesser value" was stored away in the +garret that lay beyond, and the prayer-mat was placed alongside the +toil-worn wooden _charpoy_, that was at least fairly clean and had all +four legs intact; and under this bed, the box that held a strange +assortment of clothing was put safely away. At the bottom of another +box, one of those bought by Coryndon himself from Leh Sin's assistant, +Shiraz had laid a suit of tussore silk, a few shirts and collars, and +anything that his master might require if he wished to revisit those +"glimpses of the moon" in the Cantonments; for Shiraz neglected nothing, +and had a genius for detail. + +A hurricane lamp, that threw impartial light upon all sides, stood on a +round table, and lighted the small room, and at one corner Coryndon sat, +clad in his Burmese _loongyi_ and white coat, thinking, his chin on his +folded hands. He had taught himself to think without paper or pens, and +to record his impressions with the same diligent care as though he wrote +them upon paper. He could command his thoughts, and direct them towards +one end and one issue, and he believed that notes were an abomination, +and that, in his Service, memory was the only safe recorder of progress. + +He was fully aware that he was hunting what might well be a cold line, +and he thought persistently of Leh Shin, putting the other possible +issues upon one side. Hartley had allowed himself to be dominated by a +predisposition to account for everything through Heath, and Coryndon +warned himself against falling into the same snare with Leh Shin. He +thought of the Chinaman's shop, and he knew that it was built on the +same plan as his own dwelling. There was no basement, and hardly any +room beyond the open ground-floor apartment and the two upper rooms. +Nowhere, in fact, to conceal anything; and its thin walls could not +contain a single cry for help or prayer for mercy. It was possible to +have drugged the boy and smothered him as he lay unconscious, but unless +the murderers had chosen this method, Absalom could not have met his end +in the Chinaman's shop. There remained the house by the river to +investigate, and there remained hours and days, and possibly weeks, of +close watching, that might reveal some tiny clue, and for that Coryndon +was determined to wait and watch until it lay in the hollow of his palm. + +Acting the part of a man more or less astray in his wits, he wandered +out either late or early, with the vague, aimless step of a dreamer, and +stood about, staring vacantly. Leh Shin's shop attracted him, and he +would squat on the ground either just outside the narrow entrance, or +just within, and, with flaccid, dropping mouth, stare at the hanging +array of secondhand clothes, making himself a source of endless +entertainment for the boy, who found him easy to annoy and distress, and +consequently practised upon him with unwearying pleasure. + +"Wise one, where are the jewels stolen by thy Master?" he asked, +throwing the dregs of his drink over the Burman's bare feet. + +"Jewels, jewels? Nay, friend, jewels are for the rich; for the Raj and +the Prince; I have never seen one to hold in my hand and to consider +closely. As for the Punjabi, he is no master of mine. I did him a +service--nay, I have forgotten what the service was, as I forget all +things, save only the guilt of the evil man, once my friend." + +"Tell me once more thy story." + +The Burman cowered down and whimpered. + +"Since I put it into speech for thy ears, my trouble of mind has grown, +like moonlight in the mist. I may not speak it again. They, yonder, +would hear," he pointed at the clothes, that napped a little in the hot, +heavy wind that came in strong with the scents and smells of the Bazaar. + +"Oh, oh," said the boy, with a crackling laugh. "I will tell them not to +speak or stir. I have power over them, and they shall repeat nothing. +Tell me the story, fool, or I will drive thee from thy corner, and the +children shall throw mud upon thee in the streets." + +Again and again the drama was repeated, and as Coryndon became part of +the day's amusement to Leh Shin's assistant, he grew to know exactly +what both the boy and his master did during the hours of the day. +Unknown and unsuspected, the Burman went in and out as they went in and +out. He appeared at the house by the river, he sat with his legs +dangling over the drop from the Colonnade into the streets, and he wore +out the hours in idleness, the dust of the Bazaar powdering his hair and +griming his face, but behind his vacant eyes, his quick brain was alive +and burning, and he felt after Leh Shin with invisible hands. + +Coryndon was never at the mercy of one idea only, and he began to see, +very soon after he had investigated the two houses--the ramshackle shop +and the riverside den--that if he intended to progress he could not +afford to sit in the street and drink in the cafe opposite Leh Shin's +dwelling for an interminable space of weeks. He had limitless patience, +but he was quick of action, and saw any flaw in his own system as soon +as a flaw appeared. Leh Shin was suspicious, and took precautions when +he went out at night, and this in itself made it dangerous to be +continually upon his heels in a character he knew and could recognize. +So long as there was anything to gain by remaining in his Burmese +clothing, Coryndon used it, avoiding the Chinaman and cultivating the +society of his assistant, but he soon began to realize that if he were +to follow as closely as he desired, he could not do so in his present +disguise. + +All day he sat watching the crowded street, shivering, though the sun +was warm, and breaking his silence with complaints that the fever was +upon him, and that he was sick, and that he could not eat. He whimpered +and whined so persistently that the assistant drove him off, for he +feared infection, and fancied he might be sickening for the plague. + +"Neither come thou hither, until thou art fully recovered," he added, +"lest I use my force upon thee." + +If a certain beggar who had sat for a whole month outside the Golden +Temple at Amritzar was to become reincarnated in the person of the idiot +Burman, the Burman must have a reason to offer to the inquisitive for +his temporary absence. Sickness is sudden and active in the streets of +any Bazaar, and when Shiraz learnt that he was to keep within the house +and report the various stages of the fever of his friend, he salaamed +and drew out the battered box from under the bed, and folded away the +_loongyi_ and coat with care. + +Coryndon explained his plan of coming and going when the streets were +silent, and when he could do so without being noticed. If he came in the +daytime and asked for alms, Shiraz was to open and call him in to +receive food, but he would only do this in great emergency, as the +beggar did not wish to establish any connection with the Punjabi. If, on +the other hand, it was a matter of necessity for the Burman to reappear, +Shiraz was to walk along the street and bestow alms in the beggar's +bowl; and on the first opportunity Coryndon would return and make the +necessary change. The first difficulty was to get out of the house, and +to be in the street by twilight, when the close operation of watching +would have to begin. + +"The doors of the merciful are ever open to the poor; yet there is great +danger in going out by the way of the Bazaar." + +"There is a closed door at the back that I have well prepared," said +Coryndon, pulling a bit of sacking over his bent shoulders. "Remember +that an oiled hinge opens like the mouth of a wise man." + +The addition of one to the brotherhood of vagrancy that is part of every +Eastern Bazaar calls the attention of no one, and being a newcomer, +Coryndon contented himself with accepting a pitch in a district where +alms were difficult to obtain and small in value, but his humility did +not keep him there long, and he made a place for himself at the top of +Paradise Street, in the shadow of an arched doorway, where a house with +carved shutters and horseshoe windows was slowly mouldering through the +first stages of decay. From here he could see down the Colonnade, and +also watch the shop of Mhtoon Pah, as he alternately cursed or blessed +the passers, according to their gifts or their apathy. + +The heavy, slouching figure of the assistant went by to take up his +master's place in the waterside house, and the beggar wasted no time in +glancing after him. He knew his destination, and had no need to trouble +about the ungainly, walloping creature, who kicked him as he passed. It +was fresh, out in the street, and pleasant, and in spite of his musty +rags and his hidden face, Coryndon enjoyed the change of occupation. + +He saw the place much as it had been on the evening of July the 29th. +Mhtoon Pah came out and sat on his chair, smoking a cheroot, and +observing the street. In a good humour it would appear, for when the +beggar cringed past and sent up his plea for assistance, the curio +dealer felt in his pouched waist-sash and threw him a coin. + +"Be it requited to thee in thy next life, O Shrine-builder," murmured +the beggar, and he squatted down on the ground a little further on. + +He saw Shiraz come out and stand at the door, preparatory to setting +forth to the Mosque. Saw him lock it carefully and proceed slowly and +with great dignity through the crowd. He passed close to the beggar, but +took no notice of him, lifting his garments lest they should touch him, +and for this the beggar cursed him, to the entertainment of those who +listened. + +Blue shadows like wraiths of smoke enfolded the street at the far end, +and the clatter and noise grew stronger as the houses filled after the +day of toil. In one of the prosperous dwellings a gramophone was set +near the window, and the song floated out over the street, the +music-hall chorus from the merchant's house mingled in with the cry of +vendors hawking late wares at cheap prices. + +A hundred years ago, except for the gramophone and an occasional +_gharry_, the street might have been the same. The same amber light that +held only a short while after sunset, the same blue misty shadows, the +same concourse of colour and caste, the same talk of food, and the same +idle, loitering and inquisitive crowd. + +Coryndon watched it with eyes of love. Half of his nature belonged to +this place and was part of it. He understood their idleness, their small +pleasures, their kindness and their cruelty; and though the dominance of +the white race was strongest in him, he loved these half-brothers of his +because he understood them. + +Two young _Hypongyi_ came past where he sat, and as they had nothing +else to give, gave him their blessing and a look of pity. + +"He did ill in his former life," said the elder of the two. "The balance +is adjusted thus, and only thus." + +"Great is the justice of the Law," replied the other, rubbing his shaven +crown reflectively, and then some noise of music or laughter attracted +them and they ran up the street to see what it might be, for they were +young, and there was no reason why they should not enjoy simple +pleasures. + +Coryndon knew that Leh Shin would certainly go to the Joss House that +night, and he knew that upon these occasions the Chinaman prayed long, +and that it would be dark before he entered the place of worship. For +another hour his time was free to watch the street, and without +attaching any particular consequence to the fact, he saw Mhtoon Pah get +up, rub his hands on his knees and lift his chair inside the door, which +he closed with a noise of dragging chains and creaking bolts. + +Slowly the last gleam withdrew, and the dust lost its effect of amber, +and the trees grew dark, and little whispering winds clapped the palm +leaves one on another with a dry, barking sound. Children still screamed +and played, and dogs yelped and offered to show fight, and still people +on foot came and went, and the dusk drew down a veil and the greater +noise subsided into a lower key. + +The beggar was no longer there, his place was empty and he had gone. + + + + +XVI + +IN WHICH LEH SHIN IS BREATHED UPON BY A JOSS, AND EXPERIENCES THE TERROR +OF A MAN WHO TOUCHES THE VEIL BEHIND WHICH THE IMMORTALS DWELL. + + +Of all the savage desires that riot in the hearts of men, the lust of +revenge is probably the strongest. Civilization has done its best to +control and curb wild impulse; but as long as a cruel wrong rankles, or +a fierce longing to square an old account remains, there will be hands +thrust out to take the naked sword of the Lord into their own finite +grasp, and there will be men who will be content to pay the price so +that they may see the desire of their eyes. + +The Oriental has above the white races an illimitable patience in +awaiting his hour for retribution, for the heart of the East does not +forget and can hold a purpose silently through the dust-blown, sunlit +years, waiting for the dawn of the appointed day. + +When Leh Shin set out towards the Joss House, he was repeating a +procedure that had become constant with him of late. He knew that a Joss +was revengeful and terrible in matters of hate, therefore his prayer +would be understood in the strange region of power where the Great Ones +dwelt. His religion was a mixture of the teachings of Buddha, Confucius, +and Shinto, for long absence from his own country and constant +association with the Burmese and Japanese had blended and confused the +original belief that he had learnt in far-away Canton. To this basis was +added the grossest form of superstition, and the wildest fancies of a +brain muddled with the fumes of opium, but the one thing clear to him +was, that a Joss, though an immortal being, was able to comprehend +hatred. + +The gods punished terribly, slaying with plague and pestilence, +destroying life by flood and years of famine, and so Leh Shin knew that +they were very like men, taking full advantage of their fearful power +and punishing the smallest neglect with the utmost rigour. He could +appeal to a great invisible cruel brain and demand assistance for his +own limited desire for revenge, knowing that it was an attribute of +those whose help he sought, but he went in fear, with pricking nerves, +because his belief was strong in the power of the monsters he +worshipped. + +The Joss House stood in a wide street near the river; a stone courtyard +separated it from the thoroughfare, and the building itself was raised +on a terrace, led up to by two shallow flights of steps. The roof was a +marvel of sea-green mosaic, coiled over by dragons with flaming red +tongues and staring glass eyes, each dragon a wonder of fretted fins and +ivory teeth and claws. Upon each of the three roofs was set relief +mosaic, of beautiful workmanship, representing houses and ships and +bridges, with tiny men and women, and little trees, all as small as a +child's plaything, but complete, proportioned and entire. Huge stone +pillars covered with devils and crawling lizards supported the long +portico that ran the full length of the building, and between each +pillar an immense paper lantern gleamed like a dim moon. + +Leh Shin stood outside for a few moments and then plunged in, like a man +who is not sure of his nerve and cannot afford to wait too long lest his +determination to face what lay inside should fail him. On feast days the +Joss House was a gay place, full of lights and people crowding in and +out, and there was no room for fear, for even a Joss is not alarming in +company with many men, but when Leh Shin went in, the place was +deserted, and it seemed to him that the unseen power was terribly near +in the darkness. + +It was a vast, lofty building inside, supported by gold pillars and +black pillars, and in the centre near the door was a tank-shaped well +where pots of flowering plants and palms were set with no particular eye +to regularity or effect. As they shivered and rustled in the dark, they +were full of a suggestion of the fear that made Leh Shin's heart as cold +as a stone in a deep pool. Raised on a jade plinth, a low round pillar +stood directly in front of the rose-red curtains that were drawn across +the sanctuary space, and on the top of the pillar a bronze jar held one +scented stick, that burned slowly, like a winking, drowsy eye, its slow +spiral of incense creeping up into the air and losing itself in the high +arches of the pointed roof. Between the pillar and the sanctuary +itself, was a small table covered with an embroidered shawl, worked in +spangles that glittered and shone, and beneath the table were a number +of smooth stones. + +Leh Shin locked his hands together and passed up the aisle, close to +where the palm trees rustled and stirred, and fear was upon him like +that of a hungry dog. He crossed a line of light cast by some candles, +and it seemed to him that the curtains moved as he approached. The Joss +House was apparently empty, and yet it did not seem empty. Invisible +eyes watched behind the carved screens that shut out the priests' houses +on either side, invisible ears might easily catch the lowest whisper of +his prayer. Soundless impressions of moving things that had no shape +haunted his consciousness, and he started in panic as his own shadow +fell before him when he stepped across the burning candles and slid into +the close alley between the table and the shrine. + +He bent down suddenly and, feeling on the cold marble of the floor, took +up two of the stones and beat them together with the loud clapping noise +which proclaimed a suppliant. Bowed in the close space, he repeated his +prayer the requisite number of times, and it seemed to Leh Shin that the +Joss heard and accepted: the Joss who took visible shape in his mind, +with a face half-human and half-bestial, and who capered with a drawn +sword in his hand. + +Over his head the heavy curtains swayed again, and the tittering noise +from a nest of bats sounded like ghostly laughter. His prayer had drawn +power to his aid, out of the unknown place where the gods live, and +loosed it in response to his cry. He was only Leh Shin, a poor Chinaman +who kept a miserable shop in the native quarter and an opium den down +where the river water choked and gurgled at night, but he felt that he +had touched something in the terrible shadows, and once more he beat the +stones together, his face pouring with sweat. As the noise echoed up +again, the last candle fell dying into a yellow pool of melted wax, and +went out with an expiring flicker; and Leh Shin beat his hands against +the darkness that shut upon him like a wall. He sprang to his feet and +ran, and as he went wings seemed to bear down behind him. There was +terror alive in the Joss House, and before that terror he fled panting +and trembling, fearful that hands would close upon his black garments +and drag him back, holding him until he went mad. As he made for the +door he fancied he saw a shadowy form move in the gloom and clear his +path, and it added the last touch of panic to his mind. + +He leaned against an outer pillar for support, and gradually the noise +of the street drew him back again to reality and to the solid facts of +life once more. He had been badly scared, for in some cases when nothing +that can be expressed in words takes place, an infinitely greater thing, +that no words can express, has occurred mentally. To Leh Shin's +bewildered mind it was clear that he had actually felt a Joss breathe +upon him, and that he had heard its footsteps follow him across the +marble floor; the Joss who had shaken the curtains and extinguished the +candles. + +Still bewildered, Leh Shin crossed the courtyard and sat down on the +kerb; his head swam and he felt along his legs with shaking hands. A +belated fruit seller went by, and he bought a handful of dates, stuck on +a small rod and looking like immense beetles, and as he ate his +confidence in life gradually returned. The Joss was at a safe distance +in his house and there was the street to give courage to his heart; the +street where men walked safe and secure, and where a worse fear than the +fear of death did not prowl secretly. + +After a little while, he got up from the stifling dust and walked slowly +on. The streets flared with lights and the gold letters painted large on +signboards in huge Chinese characters shone out, making a brave show. +There were open restaurants where he could have gone in, and there were +houses of entertainment, hung with paper lanterns, that invited passers +with a sound of music, but Leh Shin continued his mechanical walk, +having another purpose in his mind. + +He turned out of the lighted glare of the shops and struck along a back +alley, where one street lamp gave the sole illumination, and stopping at +a low, arched door cut deep in a wall, he knocked and was admitted. +Inside the entrance was another door heavily clamped with iron, which +gave admission down a long, narrow passage to a room beyond. It was a +small room, not unlike a prison, with heavy iron bars against the +corridors, and it was quite bare of furniture except for two deal +tables, around which a crowd of men stood playing for money with +impassive faces and greedy, grasping hands. There was no mixture of race +among the men who gambled; they were all Chinese, most of them clad in +indigo-blue trousers and tight vests, though some of them wore white +shirts and rakish straw hats. The young men had close-clipped hair and +looked like clever bull-terriers, but the older men wore long pigtails +wound round their heads in black, rope-like coils. The noise of dominoes +thrown out by the man who held the bank and the rattle of dice were +almost the only sounds in the room. + +Under one table there was a small shrine, where a diminutive Joss +presided over the fortunes of Chance, but Leh Shin did not go to it as +was his usual habit before he began to play. He even eyed it uneasily +and kept at the further end of the room. + +He played with varying success for an hour, for two hours, and the third +hour was running out before he shuffled off down the close passage, his +scanty winnings tied in the corner of a rag stuffed into his belt, and +was let out through the heavily barred doors into the street. The +alley-way was deserted, and Leh Shin went down the kennel into the open +place with the walk of a man who has something definite to do. A beggar, +who had been sitting huddled under the wall of a house opposite, craned +his neck out of the shadows, and followed him quickly. + +Leh Shin had passed this last hour deliberately, so as to bring himself +to some appointed place neither earlier nor later than he desired to +get there, and Coryndon woke to the excitement of the chase again as he +followed along the Colonnade. It was easy to walk quickly under the roof +that ran from the entrance down to the turn that led into Paradise +Street, and Leh Shin did not even pause as he passed his own doorway but +made on rapidly until he came out at the far end. The hour was very +late, and the street silent. A drop in the temperature had driven the +sleepers who usually preferred the open to the closeness of walls, +within, and the whole double row of houses slept with gaping windows and +open doors. + +Mhtoon Pah's curio shop was entirely closed. Every window had outer +shutters fastened, and no gleam of light showed anywhere, up or down the +high narrow front. When Leh Shin stopped in front of the doorway the +beggar sat down opposite to him a little further down the street, his +head bowed on his bosom. He watched Leh Shin prowl carefully round and +climb with monkey-like agility from the rails to the window-ledge, where +he peered in through the shutters, raising a broken lath to see into the +interior. + +Coryndon watched him with intent interest. The night was moonless, he +knew that if a match were struck in the interior of the shop it would +shine through the raised lath, and it was for that sight that his eyes +strained and ached with intense concentration. The patience of the +Chinaman made Coryndon feel that he was watching for something definite +to happen, and at length a yellow bar cut suddenly across the dark. +Coryndon's heart beat so loud that he feared its sound might be heard +across the narrow street, and he gripped his hands together. The curio +shop was no longer dark, for someone had come in with a lamp; Coryndon +crept forward, his eyes on the Chinaman, who had slipped back on to the +ground and had raced up the steps, beating against the door violently. + +"Come out, father of lies, come out and speak with me. I have news of +thy Absalom." + +The beggar was at the foot of the steps now, close beside the dancing +image, who smiled and called his attention to the rigid figure of Leh +Shin. + +"So thou hast news for me, unclean one? Of this shall the police hear +full knowledge two hours after dawn. Where hast thou hidden the body of +the boy who was the light of mine eyes, who was ever eager and honest in +business?" + +"Thou knowest, traitor," said the Chinaman, his voice hoarse with +passion, "what is dark unto others is clear unto me. Have I not the tale +of thy years written in the book of my mind?" + +For a moment there was dead silence, and then a voice full of smooth +malice and cruelty made answer to Leh Shin. + +"Get thee to thy bed, fool." + +"I wait," Leh Shin's voice cracked and trembled, "and when the hour that +is already written for thy destruction comes like the night-bat, it is +_I_ who shall proclaim it to thee; thus I have demanded, and thus it +shall fall out." + +"O fruitful boaster, O friend of many years, thy words cause me great +mirth. Get thee to thy kennel, lest I do indeed come forth and twist thy +vulture's neck." + +A laugh of scorn was the only response to Mhtoon Pah's threat, and the +Chinaman turned and came down the steps. + +"Alms, alms," whined a sleepy voice. "The poor are the children of the +Holy One. I am blind and I know not the faces of men. Alms, alms, that +thy merit may be written in the book." + +"Ask of him that is in that house," said Leh Shin, pointing to the curio +shop. "Strike him with thy pestilence that his fatness fall from him and +his bones melt, and I will give thee golden rewards." + +The secret passion of the words was so intense that the beggar was +silenced, and Leh Shin passed on. He went from Paradise Street to a +small burrow near the Colonnade, and turned into a mean house where the +paper lantern still burned in token that the owners were awake. It was +quite clean inside, and divided into large cubicles. In each cubicle was +a table, covered with oilcloth, at the head of which was placed a red +lacquer pillow and a little glass lamp that gave the only light needed +in the long, low room. On the tables lay Burmen and Chinamen, some rigid +in drugged sleep, and some smoking immense pipes with small, cup-like +receptacles that held the opium. The proprietor was alert and wakeful as +he flitted about, an American cigarette between his lips, in this +strange garden of sleep. + +"I am weary," said Leh Shin. "Let me rest here." + +"It is great honour," replied the small, wizened old man, with the +laugh. "What of thine own house by the river?" + +"My limbs fail me. To-night my assistant supplies the needs of those who +ask, for I had a business." + +"And I trust thy business hath prospered with thee?" + +Leh Shin stretched himself out on a table near the door. + +"I await the hour of prosperity,"--he twisted a needle in the brown mass +that was offered to him and held it over the lamp. "Evil are the days of +a life whilst an old grudge burns like hot charcoal in the heart." + +"It is even so," agreed the proprietor, and he hurried away from the +noose of talk that Leh Shin would have cast around him. + +The beggar, having followed Leh Shin as far as the opium den, returned +along the Colonnade and knocked at the door of the house where Shiraz +waited anxiously for his master. + +"Is my bath prepared, Shiraz? I must wash before I sleep, and I shall +sleep late." + +Coryndon was weary. No one who has not watched through hours of strain +and suspense knows the utter weariness of mind and body that follows +upon the long effort of close attention, and he fell upon his bed in a +huddled heap and slept for hour after hour, worn out in brain and body. + + + + +XVII + +TELLS HOW CORYNDON LEARNS FROM THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH WHAT THE REV. +FRANCIS HEATH NEVER TOLD HIM. + + +When Coryndon sat up in his bed, and recalled himself with a jerk from +the drowsiness of night to the wakefulness of broad daylight, he called +Shiraz to give to him instructions. + +After dark, his master told him, he was going to return to the +Cantonments, and during his absence there were some matters which he had +decided to leave unreservedly in the hands of Shiraz. He was to +cultivate his acquaintance with Leh Shin, the Chinaman, worming his way +into his confidence and encouraging him to speak fully of the old hatred +that was still like live fire between him and the wealthy curio dealer. +Revenge may or may not take the shape and substance of the original +wrong done, and the limited intelligence of the Chinaman would suggest +payment in the same coin, so it was necessary for Coryndon to know the +actual facts of the ancient grudge. Further than this, Shiraz was to go +to the shop of Mhtoon Pah, and discover anything he could in the course +of conversation with the Burman. + +"Mark well all that is said, that when I return it may be disclosed to +mine eyes through thy spectacles," he concluded, tying the ragged ends +of his head-scarf over his forehead. + +He went down the staircase with a slow, dragging step, leaning on the +rail of the Colonnade when he got out into the street, and halting, with +a vacant stare, outside the shop of Leh Shin. + +"So thy devils have not yet caught thee and scalded thee with oil, or +burned thee in quicklime?" jeered the boy, as he watched a coolie sweep +out the shop. + +He was chewing a raw onion, and he swung his legs idly, for there was +nothing to do, and, on the whole, he was glad to have the mad Burman to +bait for half an hour's entertainment. + +"The sickness is heavy upon me, my legs are loaded as with wet sand, and +my mouth is parched like a rock in the desert," whined the Burman +plaintively. + +"Nay, nay, not _thy_ legs, and _thy_ tongue. The legs and the mouth of +the evil man, thy friend, O dolt." + +The Burman shook his head stupidly. + +"The will of the Holy Ones is that I shall recover, and my friend has +said that I shall go a journey. I go by the terrain this night at +sunset." + +"Whither doth he send thee, unclean one?" + +The Burman smiled with a sudden look of cunning. + +"That is a word unspoken, and neither will I tell it. Thy desire to know +what concerns thee not is as great as thy fatness." + +With a doggedness that is often part of some forms of mania, the Burman +squatted in the dust, and under no provocation could he be induced to +speak. After midday he indicated by lifting his fingers to his mouth +that he intended to go in search of food; having worked Leh Shin's +assistant into a state of perspiring wrath by the simple process of +reiterating in pantomime that he was dumb. It must be admitted that +Coryndon got no small amount of pleasure out of his morning's +entertainment, and he doubled himself up as though in pain as he dragged +himself back to the house. + +The vanished beggar's tracks were entirely obliterated, and when the +Burman went off in a _gharry_ in company with Shiraz, the whole street +knew that he was being sent away on a secret mission of great +importance. + +To know something that other people do not know is to be in some way +their superior. It is a popular fallacy to believe that we all of us are +gifted with special insight. The dullest bore believes it of himself, +but when it comes to the possession of an absolute fact superiority +becomes unmistakable, particularly in circumscribed localities, and Leh +Shin's assistant remembered how the sudden dumbness of the crazy Burman +had irked his own soul. He told a little of what he professed to know, +and having done so, refused to admit more, and so it was current in the +Bazaar that the friend of the rich Punjabi was gone to receive money +paid for jewels, and that the place of his destination was known only to +Leh Shin's assistant, who, having sworn on oath, would by no means +divulge the name of the place. + +Even Leh Shin, who awoke late, appeared interested, and asked questions +that made the gross, flabby boy think hard before he replied; and the +mystery that attached itself to the departure of the Burman lent an +added interest to Shiraz, who returned after the usual hour of prayer at +the Mosque, and paced slowly up the street, meditating upon a verse from +the Koran. The evening light softened and the shadows grew long, making +the Colonnade dark a full hour before the street outside was wrapped in +the smoky gloom of twilight and the charcoal fires were lighted to cook +the evening meal, and by the time that the first clear globes of +electric light dotted Paradise Street Coryndon was back in his room and +dressed ready to go out to dinner. + +Hartley received the wanderer with enthusiasm, and began at once by +telling him that he had an invitation for him which was growing stale by +long keeping. Mrs. Wilder was giving a very small party and both the +Head of the Police and his friend were invited. + +"I accepted definitely for myself, and conditionally for you," said +Hartley cheerfully. "Now I will ring up Wilder and tell him that the +prodigal has reappeared, and that you will come." + +Coryndon submitted to the inevitable with a good grace; it was one of +his best social qualifications, and arose from a keen sensitiveness that +made it nearly impossible for him ever to disappoint anyone. He had +hoped for a quiet evening, when he might expect to get to bed early and +have time to think over every tiny detail of his time in the Mangadone +Bazaar; but as this was not possible, he agreed with sufficient alacrity +to deceive his kind host. + +His face was drawn and tired, and his eyes were heavy; he noticed this +as he glanced into his glass, but after all it did not matter. His +social importance was small, and for to-night he was nothing more than +an adjunct of Hartley, a mere postscript put in out of formal +politeness. He was not going in order to please Mrs. Wilder--though, as +she appeared on his mental list of names, she had her place in the +structure that filled his mind--but to please Hartley. Any time would +have done for Mrs. Wilder, she was but a cypher in the total, but if he +had begged off to-night he would have had to hurt Hartley. Coryndon +could never get away from the other man's point of view; it dogged him +in great things and in small, and he was obliged to realize Hartley's +pleasure in seeing him, and his further pleasure in carrying him off to +a house where he himself enjoyed life thoroughly. Coryndon could as +easily have disappointed a child, or been cruel to a small, wagging +puppy as to Hartley in his present mood. + +He knew that he would have to shut the door upon his dominating thought, +unless something occurred to open it during the evening. Women liked to +play with fire, and he wondered if Mrs. Wilder would show any +inclination to fiddle with gunpowder, but he hardly expected that she +would, though she had played some part in the extensive drama that +reached from Heath's bungalow to the Colonnade in the Chinese quarter, +leaving a gap between that his brain struggled with in vain. + +It was like the imaginable space between life and death, where both +conditions existed, and one was the key to the other. Something was +lacking. One small master touch wanting to lay the whole thing bare of +mystery. Coryndon's weary eyes reflected the state of his mind. He felt +like an inventor who is baffled for the lack of a tiny clue that makes +the impossible natural and easy, or a composer who hears a refrain and +cannot call it into birth in clear defiant chords. To think too much +when thought cannot carry the mind over the limiting barrier is to spend +substance on fruitless effort, and Coryndon deliberately shut the door +of his mind and put the key away before he started out with Hartley. + +The night was clear as the two men went off together hatless through the +soft moonlight. Neither Coryndon nor Hartley talked much as they walked +by a short cut across the park to the Wilders' bungalow, a servant +carrying a lantern going before them like a dim will-o'-the-wisp; the +yellow lamplight paling into an ineffectual blur against the clear +moonlight. + +"I think it is only ourselves," said Hartley after a long pause. "You +are looking a bit done, Coryndon, so you'll be glad if it isn't a late +night." + +Coryndon agreed, and conversation flagged again. They crossed the road, +turned up the avenue and were lost in the shadows of the trees, coming +out again into a white bay of light outside the door. + +Everyone, man or woman, who is endowed at birth with a sensitive nature +is subject to occasional inrushes of detachment that without warning cut +him off from realities for moments or hours, converting everyday matters +into the consistency of dream-life. It was through this medium that +Coryndon saw Mrs. Wilder when he came into the large upstairs +drawing-room. It would have annoyed her to know that she appeared +indefinite and shadowy to his mind, just as it annoyed Alice when she +was told that she was only "Something in the Red King's dream," but +Coryndon could not help his sensations. Mrs. Wilder was smiling with her +careless, easy, confident smile, and yet he saw only an unaccounted bit +of the puzzle, that he could not fit in. She was dressed in the latest +fashion, and talked with a kind of regal amiability, but nevertheless, +she was not a real woman, a real hostess, or a positive entity; she was +vague, and the touch of her floating personality added to the baffled +sensation that drained Coryndon's mind of concentrated force, and made +him physically exhausted. + +Wilder had something to say to Hartley, and Coryndon handed himself over +like a coat or an umbrella to Mrs. Wilder, who, he knew, was placing a +low valuation upon him, and was already a little impatient at his lack +of vitality. She was calling him a bore, behind her fine, hard eyes, and +having exhausted Mangadone in a few sentences, wondered what sort of +bore he really was. There were golf bores, fishing bores, and shooting +bores, but Coryndon hardly appeared to belong to any of those families, +and she began to suspect him of "superiority," a type of bore aggressive +to others of his cult. Mrs. Wilder did not tolerate a type to which she +herself undoubtedly owned to some slight connection, and she gave up all +effort to awaken interest in the slim, weary young man, who looked +half-asleep. + +"Mr. Heath ought to be here directly," she said, in her loud, clear +voice. "Draycott, don't forget to ask him to say grace." + +If she had got up and taken Coryndon by the shoulders and shaken him, +the effect could not have been more marked and sudden. All the dull +feeling of detachment cleared off at once, and he knew that his senses +were sharp and acute; his bodily fatigue fell away, and as he moved in +his chair his eyes turned towards the door. + +"I wish he would hurry," growled Wilder, a prey to the pessimism of the +half-hour before dinner. "He is inexcusably late as it is." + +As though his words had summoned the Rev. Francis Heath, footsteps +mounting the staircase followed Wilder's remark, and the clergyman came +into the room. Immediately upon his coming, conversation became general, +and a few moments later the party was seated round a small table kept +for intimate gatherings, and placed in the centre of the large +teak-panelled room. An arrangement of plumbago and maidenhair, and pale +blue shaded candles casting a dim light, carried out the saxe blue +effect that Mrs. Wilder had evolved with the assistance of a ladies' +paper that dealt with "effective and original table decoration." + +In spite of Mrs. Wilder's efforts, assisted as they were by Hartley, +conversation flagged for the first two courses. Heath was not exactly +awkward, but he was conscious of the fact that he and Hartley had had an +unpleasant interview, buried by the passing of a few weeks, but by no +means peaceful in its grave. There was just a suggestion of strain in +his manner, and he was evidently carrying through a duty in being there +at all, rather than out for pleasant society. + +Coryndon observed him carefully, particularly when he talked to his +hostess. If she was helping to screen him, the clergyman was too honest +not to show some sign of gratitude either in his manner or in his +deep-set eyes, and yet no such indication was evident. Coryndon +disassociated his mind from the history of the case, and saw austerity +flavoured with a near approach to disapproval. Judging by externals, the +Rev. Francis Heath held no very exalted opinion of his hostess. + +"She has done nothing for him," he said to himself. "If obligation +exists, it is the other way round," and he proceeded to watch Mrs. +Wilder's manner towards her clerical guest with heightening interest. + +Usually she was very sure of herself, more especially so in her own +house, and surrounded with the evidences of her husband's official rank. +When Mrs. Wilder talked to the poor, insignificant Padre who could be of +no real social assistance to her, she changed her manner, the manner +that she directed pointedly towards Coryndon, and became quelled and +softened. + +Mrs. Wilder, propitiatory and diffident, was, Coryndon felt, Mrs. Wilder +caught out somehow and somewhere; perhaps on the night of the 29th of +July, and as he considered it, Coryndon knew that the shoe was on a much +smaller foot than Hartley had measured for it, and that the secret +understanding between Heath and Mrs. Wilder was one-sided in its +benefits. + +Hartley had recounted the story of the fainting fit as a landmark by +which he remembered where he was himself, and, adding this fact to what +he observed, Coryndon put Mrs. Wilder on one side and mentally drew a +red-ink line under her total. He knew all he needed to know about her, +and she had no further interest for his mind. He talked to her husband +when once he had satisfied himself definitely, and as dinner wore on the +atmosphere became more genial and less strained than when it had begun. + +"By the way," said Wilder carelessly, "was it ever discovered how that +fellow Rydal got clear of the country?" + +He spoke to Hartley, but Heath, who had been talking across the table to +Coryndon, lost his place, stumbled and recovered himself with +difficulty, and then lapsed into silence. Hartley had a few things to +say about Rydal, but chief among them was the astounding fact that he +had dodged the police, who were watching the wharves and jetties, and, +so far as he knew, the man had never left Mangadone. + +"Do you suppose that he got away disguised?" + +"Impossible," said Hartley, with decision. "He was a big, fair +Englishman with blue eyes. Nothing on earth could have made him look +anything else. It was too risky to attempt that game." + +Mrs. Wilder was not interested in Rydal, and she sprayed Coryndon with +light, pointless conversation, leaving Heath to his meditations for the +moment. Hartley would have enjoyed a private talk with his hostess +because he loved her platonically, and because it was impossible he was +distrait and jerky, trying to appear cordial towards Heath. It was one +of those evenings that make everyone concerned wonder why they ever +began it, and though Coryndon was of all the invited guests the one who +found least favour in the eyes of his hostess, he was the only one who +felt glad that he had come, and was perfectly convinced that it had been +worth it. + +The Rev. Francis Heath rose early to take his leave; and there was a +distinct impression of relief when he had gone. + +"That Padre is like wet blotting-paper," said Wilder, when he came back +into the drawing-room. "No more duty invitations, Clarice, or else wait +until I am out in camp." + +"He is a bore," said Mrs. Wilder, throwing her late guest to the sharks +without remorse. "But I suppose he can't help it. He may have something +to worry him." She just indicated her point with a glance at Hartley, +who murmured incoherently and became interested in his drink. + +"Parsons are all alike," said Wilder, who fully believed that he stated +an obvious fact. "I feel as if I ought to apologize for not going to +church whenever I meet one." + +"He _is_ a bore," repeated Mrs. Wilder. "But he is finished with for the +present." + +Coryndon looked up. + +"I suppose one is inclined to mix up a man with his profession, as +people often mix up nationalities with races, forgetting that they are +absolutely apart. Heath is not my idea of a clergyman." + +"And what is your idea?" asked Mrs. Wilder, with a smile that was +slightly encouraging. + +"A man with less temperament," said Coryndon slowly. "Heath lacks a +certain commonplace courage, because he feels things too much. He is not +altogether honest with himself or his congregation, because he has the +protective instinct over-developed. If I had a secret I should feel that +it was perfectly safe with Heath." + +A slow red stain showed itself on Mrs. Wilder's cheek, and she gave a +hard, mechanical laugh. + +"Are these the deductions of one evening? No wonder you are a silent +man, Mr. Coryndon." + +If Coryndon had been a cross-examining counsel instead of a guest at a +dinner-party, he would have thanked Mrs. Wilder politely and told her +that she might "step down." As it was, he assured her that he was only +attracted by certain personalities, and that, usually speaking, he did +not analyse his impressions. + +"He is a bore," said Mrs. Wilder, making the statement for the third +time that evening, and thus disposing of Heath definitely. + +"It wasn't up to the usual mark," said Hartley, half-apologetically as +he and Coryndon walked home together. "I felt so awkward about meeting +Heath." He paused and looked at Coryndon, longing to put a question to +him, but not wishing to break their agreement as to silence. + +"Tell me about Rydal," said Coryndon in the voice of a man who shifts a +conversation adroitly. "I don't remember your having mentioned the +case." + +Hartley had not much to tell. The man had been in a position of +responsibility in the Mangadone Bank, and Joicey had given information +against him the very day he absconded. Rydal was married, and the cruel +part of the story lay in the fact that he had deserted his wife on her +deathbed, fully aware that she was dying. + +"She died the evening he left, or was supposed to have left. At all +events, the evening he disappeared." + +"And the date?" + +Coryndon's eyes were turned on Hartley's face, and he heard him laugh. + +"You'll hardly believe it, but it happened, like everything else, on the +twenty-ninth of July." + +"Can your boy look after me for a few days?" Coryndon asked quietly. "I +was not able to bring my bearer with me, and I may have to be here for a +little longer than I had expected." + +"Of course he can." + +They walked into the bungalow together, and it surprised and distressed +Hartley to see how white and weary the face of his friend showed under +the hanging lamp. + +"I ought not to have dragged you out," he said remorsefully. + +"I am very glad you did." + +There was so much sincerity in Coryndon's tone that Hartley was +satisfied, and he saw him into his room before he went off, whistling to +his dog and calling out a cheery "Good night." + + + + +XVIII + +THE REV. FRANCIS HEATH UNLOCKS HIS DOOR AND SHOWS WHAT LIES BEHIND + + +When Coryndon made up his mind to any particular course of action and +time pressed, he left nothing to chance. Under ordinary circumstances, +he was perfectly ready to wait and let things happen naturally; and so +greatly did he adhere to this belief in chance that he always hesitated +to make anything deliberately certain. Had he felt that he could allow +time to bring circumstance into his grasp, he would have preferred to do +so, but, as he sat on the side of his bed, his _chota haziri_ untouched +on a table at his elbow, he knew that every minute counted, and that he +must come out of the shadow and deliberately face and force the +position. + +If he could always have worked in the dark he would have done so, and no +one ever guessed how unwillingly he disclosed himself. He was a shadow +in the great structure of criminal investigation, and he came and went +like a shadow. When it was possible he vanished out of his completed +case before his agency was detected, and as he sat thinking, he wondered +if Hartley could not be trusted with the task that lay before him that +day, but even as the thought came into his mind he decided against it. +Opportunity must be nailed like false coin to the counter, and there +could be no question of leaving a meeting to the last moment of chance. +He had to make sure of his man; that was the first step. + +During the course of an idle morning, Coryndon wandered to the church, +and saw that at 5.30 p.m. the Rev. Francis Heath was holding service. +After the service there would be a choir practice, and Coryndon, having +made a mental note of the hour, went back to luncheon with Hartley. + +The afternoon sunlight was dreaming in the garden, and the drowsy air +was full of the scent of flowers. Coryndon had something to do, and he +was wise enough to make no settled plan as to how he would do it, +beforehand. He put away all thought of Absalom and the other lives +connected with the disappearance of the Christian boy, and let his +thoughts drift out, drawing in the light and colour of the world +outside. + +Yesterday has power over to-day; to-morrow even greater power, for +to-morrow holds a gift or a whip, and Coryndon knew this, thinking out +his little philosophy of life. To be able to handle a situation which +may require a strength that is above tact or diplomacy, he knew that all +those yesterdays must give their store of gathered strength and +knowledge. + +As there was no running water to watch, Coryndon watched the shadows and +the light playing hide-and-go-seek through the leaves, through his +half-closed eyes. They made a pattern on the ground, and the pattern was +faultless in its beauty. Nature alone can do such things. He looked at +the far-off trees of the park, green now, to turn into soft blue masses +later on when the day waned, and the intrinsic value of blue as colour +flitted over his fancy. The music that was part of his nature rippled +and sang in obligato to his thoughts, and because he loved music he +loved colour and knew the connection between sound and tint. Colour, to +its lightest, least value, was music, expressing itself in another way. + +Hartley went out with his dog; went softly because he believed his +friend slept, and Coryndon did not stir. Somewhere in the centre of +things actual, Hartley lived his cheerful, happy life, dreaming when he +was lonely of the woman who darned his socks and smiled at him. In +Coryndon's life there was no woman either visionary or real, and he +wondered why he was exempt from these natural dreams of a man. He was +very humble about himself. He knew that he was only a tracker, a brain +that carried a body, not a healthy animal body that controlled the +greater part of a brain. He was given the power to grip motives and to +read hearts, and beyond that he only lived in his fingers when he +played. He had his dreams for company when he shut the door on the other +half of his active brain, and he had his own thrills of excitement and +intense joy when he found what he was seeking, but beyond this there was +nothing, and he asked for nothing. Blue shadows, and a drifting into +peace, that was the end. He pulled himself together abruptly, for it was +five o'clock, and time for him to start. + +When Coryndon had drunk some tea, he started out on foot to St. Jude's +Church. He knew that he would get there in time to find the Rev. Francis +Heath. The choir practice did not take very long, and as he walked into +the church they were singing the last verses of a hymn. Heath sat in one +of the choir pews, a sombre figure in his black cassock, listening +attentively. + + "Happy birds that sing and fly + Round Thy altars, O Most High." + +The choir sang the "Amen," and sang it false, because they were in a +hurry to troop out of the church; the girls were whispering and +collecting gloves and books, and the boys were already clattering off +with an air of relief. Heath spoke to the organist, making some +suggestion in his grave, quiet voice, and when he turned, Coryndon was +standing in the chancel. + +"Can I speak to you for a moment?" he asked easily. + +"Come into the vestry," said Heath quietly. "We shall be undisturbed +there." + +He went down the chancel steps and opened a door at the side, waiting +for Coryndon to go in, and closing the door behind them. A table stood +in the middle of the room with a few books and papers on it, and a +square window lighted it from the western wall; there were only two +chairs in the room, and Heath put one of them near the table for his +visitor, and took the other himself. + +He did not know what he expected Coryndon to say; men very rarely came +to him like this, but he felt that it was possible that he was in +search of something true and definite. Truth was in his eyes, and his +dark, fine face was earnest as he bent forward and looked full at the +clergyman. + +"What can I do for you?" + +Heath put the question tentatively, conscious of a sudden quick tension +in the atmosphere. + +Coryndon's eyes fixed on him, like gripping hands, and he leaned a +little over the table. + +"You can tell me how and when you got Rydal out of the country." + +For a moment, it seemed to Heath that the whole room rocked, and that +blackness descended upon him in waves, blotting out the face of the man +who asked the question, destroying his identity, and leaving him only +the knowledge that the secret that he had guarded with all the strength +of his soul was known, inexplicably, to Hartley's friend. He tried to +frame a reply, but his words faltered through dry lips, and his face was +white and set. + +"Why should you say that I helped Rydal?" + +"Because," Coryndon's answer came quickly, "you told me so yourself last +night at dinner." + +He heard Coryndon speak again, very slowly, so that every word came +clear into the confusion of his throbbing brain. + +"I knew from Hartley that you were in Paradise Street on the evening of +the twenty-ninth of July, and that you saw and spoke to Absalom. I am +concerned in the case of finding that boy or his murderer, and anything +you can tell me may be of help to me in putting my facts together. I had +to come to your confidence by a direct question. Will you pardon me +when you consider my motive? I am not concerned with Rydal: my case is +with Absalom." + +He looked sympathetically at the worn, drawn face across the table, that +was white and sick with recent fear. + +"Tell me the events just as they came," he said gently. "You may be able +to cast light on the matter." + +Heath looked up, and his eyes expressed his silent acceptance of +Coryndon's honesty of purpose. + +"I will tell you, Mr. Coryndon. God knows that the case of this boy has +haunted me night and day. He was my best pupil, and when Hartley accused +me by inference, of complicity, I suffered as I believe few men have had +to suffer because I could not speak. I may not be able to assist you +very far, but all I know you shall know if you will listen to me +patiently." + +Heath relapsed into silence for some little time, and when he spoke +again it was with the manner of a man who gives all his facts +accurately. He omitted no detail and he set the story of Rydal before +Coryndon, plainly and clearly. + +Rydal had been a clerk in the Mangadone Bank, and had been in the place +for some years before he went home and returned with a wife. He was an +honest and kindly young fellow and he worked hard. There was no flaw in +his record, and Heath believed that he was under the influence of a very +genuine religious feeling. He frequently came to see Heath, who knew his +character thoroughly, and knew that he was weak in many respects. He +talked enthusiastically of the girl he was going to marry, and Heath saw +him off on the liner when Rydal got his leave and, full of glad +anticipation, went away to bring out his wife. + +When the clergyman had reached this point in his story, he got up and +paced the floor a couple of times, his monkish face sad and troubled, +and his eyes full of the tragic revelations that had yet to be made. + +Coryndon did not hurry the narrative. He was engaged in calling up the +mental presentment of the young happy man. Heath had described him as +"fresh-looking," and had said that his manner was frank and always +kindly; he was friendly to weakness, kindly to weakness, his virtues all +tagged off into inefficient lack of grip; but he was honest and he found +life good. That was how Rydal had started, that was the Rydal who had +gripped Heath's hand as he stood on the deck of the _Worcestershire_ and +thought of the girl whom he was going home to marry. + +"I still see him as I saw him then," said Heath, with a catch in his +voice. "He was so sure of all the good things of life, and he had +managed to save enough to furnish the bungalow by the river. I had gone +over it with him the day before he sailed, and his pride in it all was +very touching." + +Coryndon nodded his head, and Heath took up the story again, standing +with his hands on the back of the chair. + +"Rydal came back at the end of three months, his wife with him. She was +a pretty, silly creature, and her ideas of her social importance were +out of all keeping with Rydal's humble position in the Bank. She dressed +herself extravagantly, and began to entertain on a scale that was +ridiculous considering their poverty. Before their marriage, Rydal had +told me that it was a love match, and that she was as poor as he, as all +her own people could do for her was to make a small allowance sufficient +for her clothes." + +Coryndon sat very still. Heath had come to the point where the real +interest began: he could see this on the sad face that turned towards +the western window. + +"In the early hours of one morning towards the end of July," went on +Heath wearily, "I was awakened by Rydal coming into my room. I could see +at once that he was in desperate trouble, and he sat down near me and +hid his face in his hands and cried like a child. There was enough in +his story to account for his tears, God knows. His wife was ill, perhaps +dying; he told me that first, but that I already knew, and then he made +his confession to me. He had embezzled money from the bank and it could +only be a matter of hours before a warrant was issued for his arrest. I +must not dwell too long on these details, but they are all part of the +story, and without them you could not understand my own place in what +follows. It is sufficient to tell you that I returned at once with him, +and his wife added her appeal to mine to make her husband agree to leave +the country. If she lived, she could join him later, but if he was +arrested before she died, she could only feel double torment and +remorse. In the end we prevailed upon him to agree to go. The sin was +not his morally"--Heath's voice rose in passionate vindication of his +act--"in my eyes, and, I believe, in the eyes of God, the man was not +responsible. I grant you his criminal weakness, I grant you his fall +from honour and honesty, but then and now I know that I did right. The +one chance for his soul's welfare was the chance of escape. Prison would +have broken and destroyed him. A white man among native criminals. His +life had been a good life, and an open, honest life up to the time that +his wife's constant demand for what he could not give broke down the +barriers and made him a felon." + +He wiped his face with his handkerchief and drew a deep breath. This was +how he had argued the point with himself, and he still held to the +validity of his argument. + +"That was early on the morning of July the twenty-ninth?" asked +Coryndon. + +"Yes, that was the date. There was a small tramp in port, going to South +America. I had once been of some little assistance to the captain, and I +knew that he would do much to serve me. I went on board her at once, and +saw him, disguising none of the facts or the risk it entailed, and he +agreed willingly to assist Rydal. He was to be at a certain point below +the wharves that evening, and the _Lady Helen_ was to send a boat in to +pick him up." + +"I understand," said Coryndon, "the warrant was issued about noon the +same day?" + +"As far as I know, Joicey gave information against him just about then, +but he had already left the bungalow. I went down Paradise Street to +make my way out along the river bank at a little after six o'clock. I +passed Absalom in the street and spoke a word to the boy, but time was +pressing and I did not dare to be late. It was of the utmost importance +that there should be no hitch in any part of the plan, for the _Lady +Helen_ could not delay over an hour. I got to the appointed place by the +river just after twilight had come on--" + +"Were you seen by anyone?" + +Heath paused and thought for a moment. + +"I would like to deal entirely candidly with you, Mr. Coryndon, but, +with your permission, I must avoid any mention of names. As it happened, +I _was_ seen, but I believe that the person who saw me has no connection +with either my own place in this story or the story itself so far as it +affects Absalom. I saw Rydal go. He went in silence, an utterly +broken-hearted and ruined man, and only ten months divided that day from +the day that he stood on the deck of the _Worcestershire_ filled with +every hope the heart of a man knows. Behind him, his wife lying near +death in the little house his love had provided for her, and nothing lay +before him but utter desolation. I watched the boat take him away into +the darkness, and I saw the lights of the _Lady Helen_ quite clearly, +and then I saw her move slowly off, and I knew that Rydal was safe." + +He paused and stared into the darkness of the room, seeing the whole +picture again, and feeling the awful misery of the broken man who had +gone by the way of transgressors. The man who had once been +light-hearted and happy, who had sung in his choir, and who had read the +lessons for the Rev. Francis Heath and helped him with his boys. + +Coryndon's face showed his tense, close interest as the clergyman spoke +again. + +"I was standing there for some time, how long I do not know, when I saw +that I was not alone, and that I was being watched by a Chinaman. I knew +the boy by sight, and must have seen him before somewhere else. He was a +large, repulsive creature, and appeared to have come from one of the +houses near the river, where there are Coringyhis and low-caste natives +of India. At the time I remarked nothing, but when the boy saw that he +had attracted my attention, he started into a run, and left me without +speaking. The incident was so trifling that it hardly made me uneasy. No +one had seen me actually with Rydal--" + +"You are quite clear on that point? Not even the other person you +alluded to?" + +"I can be perfectly clear. I passed the other person going in the +opposite direction, before I joined Rydal. On the way back I saw Absalom +again, and he was with the Chinaman whom I already mentioned; they did +not notice me, and they were talking eagerly; my mind was overful of +other things, and you will understand that I did not think of them then, +but, as far as I remember, they went towards the fishermen's quarter on +the river bank. I cannot be sure of this." + +Coryndon did not stir; the gloom was deep now, and yet neither of the +men thought of calling for lights. + +"And the Chinaman?" + +Heath flung out his arms with a violent gesture. + +"He had seen and recognized Rydal, and he had the craftiness to realize +that his knowledge was of value. Next day everyone in Mangadone knew +that the hue and cry was out after the absconded clerk. He had betrayed +his trust, cheated and defrauded his employers, and left his wife to die +alone, for she died that night, and I was with her. That was the story +in Mangadone. It was known in the Bazaar, and how or when it came to the +ears of the Chinaman I cannot tell you, but out of his knowledge he came +to me, and I paid him to keep silence. He has come several times of +late, and I will give him no more money. Rydal is safe. I have heard +from him, and the law will hardly catch him now. I know my complicity, I +know my own danger, but I have never regretted it." Again the surging +flood of passion swept into Heath's voice. "What is my life or my +reputation set against the value of one living soul? Rydal is working +honestly, his penitence is no mere matter of protestation, his whole +nature has been strengthened by the awful experience he has passed +through. How it may appear to others I cannot say, and do not greatly +care. In the eyes of God I am vindicated, and stand clear of blame." + +He towered gaunt against the light from the window behind him, and +though Coryndon could not see his face, he knew that it was lighted with +a great rapture of self-denial and spiritual glory. + +"You need fear no further trouble from the boy," he said, rising to his +feet. "I can tell you that definitely. I am neither a judge nor a +bishop, Mr. Heath, but I can tell you honestly from my heart that I +think you were justified." + +He went out into the darkness that had come black over the evening +during the hour he had sat with Heath, and as he walked back to the +bungalow he thought of the man he had just left. There had been no need +for Coryndon to question him about Mrs. Wilder: her secret mission to +the river interested him no further. Heath had protected her and had +kept silence where her name was concerned, and yet she chose to belittle +him in her idle, insolent fashion. + +He thought of Heath sitting by the bed of the dying woman, and he +thought of him following the wake of the _Lady Helen_ down the dark +river with sad, sorrowful eyes, and through the thought there came a +strange thrill to his own soul, because he touched the hem of the +garment of the Everlasting Mercy, hidden away, pushed out of life, and +forgotten in garrulous hours full of idle chatter. + +Yet Mrs. Wilder had announced with her regal finality no less than three +times in the hearing of Coryndon the previous evening that the Rev. +Francis Heath was "a bore." + + + + +XIX + +IN WHICH LEH SHIN WHISPERS A STORY INTO THE EAR OF SHIRAZ, THE PUNJABI; +THE BURDEN OF WHICH IS: "HAVE I FOUND THEE, O MINE ENEMY?" + + +A man with a grievance, however silent he may be by nature, is, +generally speaking, voluble upon the subject of his wrongs, real or +imaginary; but a man with a grudge is intrinsically different. An old +grudge or an old hate are silent things, because they have deep roots +and do not require attention, and it is only in flashes of sudden +feeling, or when the means to the end is in view, that the man with a +grudge reveals details and tells his story. Shiraz paid several visits +to, and spent some time in the shop of, Leh Shin before he arrived at +what he wanted to know. + +He went also to Mhtoon Pah's shop, but came away without discovering +anything. Into the ears of Hartley, Head of the Police, the Burman raged +and screamed his passionate hate, because he believed it promoted his +object; but to the Punjabi he was smooth and complaisant, and refused to +be drawn into any admission. Leh Shin, the Chinaman, was Bazaar dust to +his dignity, and he knew naught of him, save only that the man had an +evil name earned by evil deeds, and Shiraz, who was as crafty as Mhtoon +Pah, saw that he had come to a "no thoroughfare" and turned his wits +towards Leh Shin. + +Little by little, and without any apparent motive, he worked the +Chinaman up to the point where silence is agony, and at last, as a river +in flood crashes over the mud-banks, the whole tale of his wrongs came +bursting through his closed mouth, and with the sweat pouring down his +yellow face he out it into words. + +The meanest story receives something vital in its constitution when it +is told with all the force and conviction of years of hatred behind the +simple fact of expression, and the story that Leh Shin recounted to +Shiraz was a mean story. The Chinaman had the true Eastern capacity for +remembering the least item in the long account that lay unsettled +between himself and the Burman. His memory was a safe in which the +smallest fact connected with it was kept intact and his mind traversed +an interminable road of detail. + +The two men had begun life as friends. The friendship between them dated +back to the days when Leh Shin and Mhtoon Pah were small boys running +together in the streets of Mangadone, and no antipathy that is a first +instinct has ever the depth of root given to the bitterness that can +spring from a breach in long friendship, and Leh Shin and Mhtoon Pah +hated as only old friends ever do hate. + +Leh Shin started in life with all the advantages that Mhtoon Pah lacked, +and he appreciated the slavish friendship of the Burman, which grew with +years. Mhtoon Pah became a clerk on scanty pay in the employ of a rice +firm, and Leh Shin, at his father's death, became sole owner of the +house in Paradise Street; no insignificant heritage, as it was stocked +with a store of things that increased in value with age, and in the +guise of his greatest friend Mhtoon Pah was made welcome at the shop +whenever he had time to go there. From his clerkship in the firm of rice +merchants Mhtoon Pah, at the insistence of his friend, became part +partner in the increasing destiny of the curio shop. He travelled for +Leh Shin, and brought back wares and stores in days when railways were +only just beginning to be heard of, and it was difficult and even +dangerous to bring goods across the Shan frontier. He had the control of +a credit trust, though not of actual money, and for a time the +partnership prospered. Mhtoon Pah was always conscious that he was a +subordinate depending on the good will of his principal, and even as he +ate with cunning into the heart of the fruit, the outside skin showed no +trace of his ravages. Leh Shin's belief in his friend's integrity made +him careless in the matter of looking into things for himself, and +lulled into false security, he dreamed that he prospered; his dream +being solidified by the accounts which he received from the Burman. In +the zenith of his affluence he married the daughter of a Burman into +whose house Mhtoon Pah had introduced him, and it was only after the +wedding festivities that he became aware that he had supplanted the +friend of his bosom in the affections of the smiling Burmese girl. +Mhtoon Pah was away on a journey, and on his return rejoiced in the +subtle, flattering manner that he knew so well how to practise, and if +he felt rancour, he hid it under a smile. + +Marriage took the Chinaman's attention from the shop, and Mhtoon Pah, +still a subordinate in the presence of his master, was arrogant and +filled with assurance in his dealings with others. Interested friends +warned the Chinaman, but he would not listen to them. He believed in +Mhtoon Pah and he had covered him with gifts. + +"Was he not my friend, this monster of infamy?" he wailed, rocking +himself on his bed. "O that I had seen his false heart, and torn it, +smoking, from his ribs!" + +Leh Shin was secure in his summer of prosperity, and when his son was +born he felt that there was no good thing left out of the pleasant ways +of life. In the curio shop in Paradise Street Mhtoon Pah waxed fat and +studied the table of returns, and in the garden of the house where Leh +Shin lived in his fool's paradise, the Chinaman loosed his hold upon the +reins of authority. + +The first sign of the altered and averted faces of the gods was made +known to Leh Shin when his wife dwindled and pined and died. + +"But that, O friend, was not the work of thine enemy," said Shiraz, +pulling at his beard reflectively. "Even in thine anger, seek to follow +the ways of justice." + +"How do I know it?" replied Leh Shin. "He ever held an evil wish towards +me. Her death was slow, like unto the approach of disaster. I know not +whence it came, but my heart informs me that Mhtoon Pah designed it." + +Quickly upon the death of his wife came the disappearance of his son. +The boy had been playing in the garden, and the garden had been searched +in vain for him. No trace of the child could be found, though Mangadone +was searched from end to end. + +"Searched," cried the Chinaman, "as the pocket of a coat. No corner left +that was not peered into, no house that was not ransacked." The +Chinaman's voice quivered with passion, and his whole body shook and +trembled. + +Life flowed back into its accustomed current, and nearly a year passed +before the next trouble came upon Leh Shin. Mhtoon Pah came back from a +prolonged journey that had necessitated his going to Hong-Kong, and he +came back with dismay in his face and a story of loss upon loss. He had +compromised his master's credit to a heavy extent, and not only the +gains he had made but the principal was swept away into an awful chasm +where the grasping hands of creditors grabbed the whole of Leh Shin's +patrimony, claiming it under papers signed by his hand. + +"It was then that light flowed in upon my darkness, and I saw the long +prepared evil that was the work of one man's hand." Leh Shin rose upon +his string bed and his voice was thin with rabid anger. "I caught him by +the throat and would have stabbed him with my knife, but he, being a +younger man than I, threw me off from him, and, when he made me answer, +I saw my foe of many years stand to render his account to me. '_Thou_, +to call me thief,' said he, 'who robbed me of my wife and cheated me of +my son.'" + +After that, poverty and ruin drove him slowly from his house outside +Mangadone to the shelter of the shop in Paradise Street, and from there, +at length, to the burrow in the Colonnade. The bitterness of his own +fall was great enough in itself to harden the heart of any man, but it +was doubled by the story of the years that followed. Slowly, and without +calling too evident attention to himself, Mhtoon Pah began to prosper. +He opened a booth first, where he sat and cursed Leh Shin whenever he +passed, saying loudly that he had ruined him and swindled him out of all +his little store, that by hard work and attention to business he had +collected. + +From the booth, just as Leh Shin left Paradise Street, Mhtoon Pah +progressed to a small unpretentious shop, and a year later he moved +again, as though inspired by a spirit of malice, into the very premises +where Leh Shin had first employed him as a clerk. That day Leh Shin went +to his Joss and swore vengeance, though how his vengeance could be +worked into fact was more than his opium-muddled brain could conceive. +Vengeance was his dream by night, his one concentrated thought by day, +and he came no nearer to any hope of fulfilling it. Mhtoon Pah, wealthy +and respected; Mhtoon Pah, the builder of shrines; Mhtoon Pah, who spoke +with high Sahibs and had the ear of the Head of the Police himself, and +Leh Shin clad in ragged clothes, and only able to keep his hungry soul +in his body by means of his opium traffic, how could he strike at his +foe's prosperity? His hate glared out of his eyes as he panted, stopping +to draw breath at the end of his account. + +Had Shiraz known the legend of the wise wolf who changed from man to +beast, he might have supposed that some such change was taking place in +Leh Shin. His trembling lips dribbled, his head jerked as though +supported by wires, and his eyebrows twitched violently as though he had +no control over their movements. He had forgotten Shiraz and was +thinking only of the tribulation he had suffered and of the man whose +gross form inhabited his whole mental world. Shaking like a leaf, he got +off his bed and stood on the earth floor. + +"May he be eaten by mud-sores," he said savagely. "May he die by his own +hand, and so, as is the Teaching, be shut out of peace, and return to +earth as a scorpion, to be crushed again into lesser life by a stone." + +"By the will of Allah, who alone is great, there will be an end of thy +troubles," said Shiraz non-committally as he got up. "Thou hast suffered +much. Be it requited to thee as thou wouldst have it fall in the hour +that is already written; for no man may escape his destiny, though he be +fleet of foot as the antlered stag." + +"Son of a Prophet, thy words are full of wisdom." + +"Let it comfort thine affliction," said Shiraz, with the air of a man +making a gift. + +"Yet I would hasten the end." He gave a strange, soundless laugh that +startled Shiraz, who looked at him sideways. "And mark this, O wise one, +mine enemy hath already felt the first lash of the whip fall, even the +whip that scourged my own body. He hath lost the boy whom he ever +praised in the streets, and suffered much grief thereby. May his grief +thrive and may it be added to until the weight is greater than he can +bear." He swung up his hand with a stabbing movement. "I would rip him +like a cushion of fine down. I would strike his face with my shoe as the +_Nats_ that he dreads caught his screaming soul." + +"Peace, peace," said Shiraz. "Such words are ill for him who speaks, and +ill alike for him who listens. In such a day as already the end is +scored like a comet's tail across the sky, the end shall be, and not +before that day. Cease from thy clamour lest the street hear thee, and +run to know the cause." + +He took leave of his friend and went slowly away to his own house, +having achieved his master's mission, and feeling well satisfied with +his afternoon's work. + +Motive, the hidden spring of action, was made clear, and Shiraz knew +enough of his master's methods to realize that he had come upon a very +definite piece of evidence against Leh Shin, the Chinaman. From the +point of view of Shiraz the man was quite justified in killing Absalom, +since "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth," appeared fair and +reasonable to his mind. The Burman had overreached Leh Shin, and now Leh +Shin had begun the cycle again, and had smitten at the curio dealer +through the curio dealer's boy, for whom he appeared to have a +fanatical affection. According to Shiraz, the house in Paradise Street +stood a good chance of being burned to the ground. If this "accident" +happened, Shiraz would know exactly whose hand it was that lighted the +match. It was all part of an organized scheme, and though he did not +know how Coryndon would bring the facts home, fitting each man with his +share, like a second skin to his body, he felt satisfied that he had +provided the lump of clay for the skilled potter to mould into shape. + +He took off his turban, and lay down on his carpet. The day was still +hot, and the drowsy afternoon outside his closed windows blinked and +stared through the hours, the glare intensifying the shadows under the +trees and along the Colonnade. The soda-water and lemonade sellers in +their small booths drove a roaring trade as they packed the +aquamarine-green bottles in blocks of dirty ice to keep the frizzling +drink cool; and the cawing of marauding crows and the cackle of fowl +blended with the shouting of drivers and sellers of wares, who heeded +not the staring heat of the sun. + +After the emotion of telling his tale, Leh Shin slept in his own small +box of darkness, and, in the rich curio shop in Paradise Street, Mhtoon +Pah leaned on an embroidered pillow with closed eyes. The stream of life +flowed slowly and softly through the hours when only the poor have need +to work; soft as the current of a full tide that slides between wide +banks, and soft as sleep, or fate, or the destiny which no man can hope +to escape. + + + + +XX + +CRAVEN JOICEY, THE BANKER, IS FACED BY A MAN WITH A WHIP IN HIS HAND, +AND CORYNDON FINDS A CLUE + + +It is a matter of universal belief that a woman's most alluring quality +is her mystery, and Coryndon, no lover of women, was absorbed in the +study of mystery without a woman. + +He had eliminated the woman. + +In his mind he cast Mrs. Wilder upon one side, as March throws February +to the fag end of winter, and rushes on to meet the primrose girl +bringing spring in her wake. He had dealt simultaneously with Mrs. +Wilder's little part in the drama and the part of Francis Heath, Priest +in Holy Orders. How they had both stood the test of detection he did not +trouble to analyse. "Detection" is a nasty word, with a nasty sound in +it, and no one likes it well enough to brood over all it exactly means. + +Coryndon was sufficiently an observer of men and life to feel grateful +to Heath, because he had seen something for a short moment as he studied +the clergyman that dwells afterwards in the mind, like a stream of +moonlight lying over a tranquil sea. Hidden things, in his experience, +were seldom things of beauty, and yet he had come upon one fair place +in the whole puzzling and tangled story collected round the +disappearance of the Christian boy Absalom. + +Mrs. Wilder and Heath were both accounted for and deleted from the list +of names indelibly inscribed in his mental book; but one fact that was +sufficiently weighty had been added to what was still involved in doubt: +the fact that Heath had seen the boy in company with Leh Shin's +assistant. + +Coryndon was subject to the ordinary prejudices of any man who makes +human personality a study, and he was more than half disposed to go back +to the Bazaar and hear whatever evidence Shiraz had been able to collect +during his absence. Two reasons prevented his doing this. One was that +he would have to wait until it was dark enough to leave Hartley's +bungalow without being watched, and possibly followed, and the other +that there was still one name on the list that required attention, and +he began to feel that it required immediate attention. A toss of a coin +lay between which course he should adopt first, and he sat very still to +consider the thing carefully. + +In the service of which he was a member, he had learnt that much depends +upon getting facts in their chronological order, and that if there is +the least disunion in the fusing of events, deduction may hammer its +head eternally against a stone wall. He did not know positively that Leh +Shin had decoyed the boy away by means of his assistant, but he was +inclined to believe that such was the case. The blood-stained rag looked +like a piece of impudent bravado more than likely to have emanated from +the brain of the young Chinaman. His mental fingers opened to catch Leh +Shin and lay hold on him, but they unclosed again, and Coryndon felt +about him in the darkness that separates mind from mind. He knew the +pitfall that a too evident chain of circumstances digs for the unwary, +and he fell back from his own conviction, testing each link of the +chain, still uncertain and still doubtful of what course he should +pursue. + +He had another object in view, an object that entailed a troublesome +interview, and he turned his thoughts towards its possible issue. +Information might be at hand in the safe keeping of his servant Shiraz, +but he considered that he must argue his own conclusions apart from +anything Shiraz had discovered. Narrowing his eyes and sitting forward +on the edge of his bed, he thought out the whole progress of his scheme. +Coryndon was an essentially quiet man, but as he thought he struck his +hands together and came to a sudden decision. + +If life offers a few exciting moments, the man who refuses them is no +adventurer, and Coryndon saw a chance for personal skill and definite +action. He felt the call of excitement, the call that pits will against +will and subtlety against force, and that is irresistible to the man of +action. Probably it was just that human touch that decided him. One +course was easy; a mere matter of reassuming a disguise and slipping +back into the life of the people, which was as natural to him as his own +life. A tame ending, rounded off by hearing a story from Shiraz, and +laying the whole matter in the hands of Hartley. The proof against the +assistant was almost conclusive, and if Shiraz had burrowed into the +heart of the motive, it gave sufficient evidence to deliver over the +case almost entire to the man who added the last word to the whole drama +before the curtain fell. + +Coryndon knew the full value of working from point to point, but beside +this method he placed his own instinct, and his instinct pointed along a +different road, a road that might lead nowhere, and yet it called to him +as he sat on the side of his bed, as roads with indefinite endings have +called men since the beginning of time. + +Against his own trained judgment, he wavered and yielded, and at length +took his white _topi_ from a peg on the wall and walked out slowly up +the garden. It was three in the afternoon. Just the hour when Shiraz was +lying on his mat asleep, and when Leh Shin slept, and Mhtoon Pah drowsed +against his cushion from Balsorah, each dreaming after his own fashion; +and it was an hour when white men were sure to be in their bungalows. +Hartley was lying in a chair in the veranda, and all through Mangadone +men rested from toil and relaxed their brains after the morning's work. + +Coryndon went out softly and slowly, and he walked under the hot burning +sun that stared down at Mangadone as though trying to stare it steadily +into flame. White, mosque-like houses ached in the heat, chalk-white +against the sky, and the flower-laden balconies, massed with +bougainvillaea, caught the stare and cracked wherever there was sap +enough left in the pillars and dry woodwork to respond to the fierce +heat of a break in the rains. + +It was a long, hot walk to the bungalow where Joicey lived, over the +Banking House itself, and the vast compound was arid and bare from three +days of scorching drought. Coryndon's feet sounded gritting on the red, +hard drive that led to the cool of the porch. No one called at such an +hour; it was unheard of in Mangadone, where the day from two to five was +sacred from interruption. + +A Chaprassie stopped him on the avenue, and a Bearer on the steps of the +house itself. There were subordinates awake and alive in the Bank, ready +to answer questions on any subject, but Coryndon held to his purpose. He +did not want to see any of the lesser satellites; his business was with +the Manager, and he said that he must see him, if the Manager was to be +seen, or even if he was not, as his business would not keep. + +A young man with a smooth, affable manner appeared from within, and said +he would give any message that Coryndon had to leave with his principal, +but Coryndon shook his head and politely declined to explain himself or +his business, beyond the fact that it was private and important. The +young man shook his head doubtfully. + +"It doesn't happen to be a very good hour. We never disturb Mr. Joicey +in the afternoons." + +"May I send in my card?" asked Coryndon. + +"Certainly, if you wish to do so." + +Coryndon took a pencil out of his pocket, and, scribbling on the corner +of his card, enclosed it in an envelope, and waited in the dark hall, +where electric fans flew round like huge bats, the smooth-mannered young +man keeping him courteous company. + +"Mr. Joicey rests at this time of day," he explained. "I hope you quite +understand the difficulty." + +"I quite understand," replied Coryndon, "but I think he will see me." + +There was a pause. The young man did not wish to contradict him, but he +felt that he knew the ways and hours of the Head of the Firm very much +better than a mere stranger arriving on foot just as the Bank was due to +close for the day. He wondered who Coryndon was, and what his very +pressing business could possibly be, but even in his wildest flights of +fancy, and, with the thermometer at 112 deg., flights of fancy do not carry +far, he never even dimly guessed at anything the least degree connected +with the truth. + +The Bearer came down the wide scenic stairway and said that his master +would see Mr. Coryndon at once. The young man with the smooth manner +faded off into dark shadows with an accentuation of impersonal civility, +and Coryndon walked up the echoing staircase by the front of the hall, +down a corridor, down another flight of stairs, and into the private +suite of rooms sacred to the use of the head of the banking firm, and +used only in part by the celibate Joicey. + +Joicey was standing by a table, looking at Coryndon's card and twisting +it between his fingers. He recognized his visitor when he glanced at +him, and showed some surprise. The room was in twilight, as all the +outside chicks were down, and there was a lingering faint perfume of +something sweet and cloying in the air. Joicey looked sulky and +irritated, and he motioned Coryndon to a chair without seating himself. + +"Well," he said brusquely, "what's this about Rydal?" He pointed with a +blunt finger to the card that he had thrown on to the table. + +"That," said Coryndon, also indicating the card, "is merely a means +towards an end. I have the good fortune to find you not only in your +house, but able to receive me." + +The colour mounted to Joicey's heavy face, and his temper rose with it. + +"Then you mean to tell me--" He broke off and stared at Coryndon, and +gave a rough laugh. "You're Hartley's globe-trotting acquaintance, +aren't you? Well, Hartley happens to be a friend of mine, and it is just +as well for you that he is. Tell me your business, and I will overlook +your intrusion on his account." + +Something inside Coryndon's brain tightened like a string of a violin +tuned up to concert-pitch. + +"In one respect you are wrong," he said amiably, and without the +smallest show of heat. "I am, as you say, Hartley's friend, but I must +disown any connection with globe-trotting, as you call it. I am in the +Secret Service of the Indian Government." + +"Oh, are you?" Joicey tore up the card and threw it into a basket beside +the writing-table. + +"It may interest you to know," went on Coryndon easily, "that my visit +to you is not altogether prompted by idle curiosity." He smiled +reflectively. "No, I feel sure that you will not call it that." + +"Fire ahead, then," said Joicey, whose very evident resentment was by no +means abated. "Ask your question, if it is a question." + +"I am coming to that presently. Before I do I want you to understand, +Mr. Joicey, that, like you, I am a servant of the public, and I am at +present employed in gathering together evidence that throws any light +upon the doings of three people on the night of July the twenty-ninth." + +"Then you are wasting valuable time," said Joicey defiantly. "I was away +from Mangadone on that night." + +"I am quite aware that you told Hartley so." + +Coryndon's voice was perfectly even and level, but hot anger flamed up +in the bloodshot eyes of Craven Joicey. + +"I put it to you that you made a mistake," went on Coryndon, "and that +in the interests of justice you will now be able to tell me that you +remember where you were and what you were doing on that night." + +Joicey thrust his hands deep into his pockets, his heavy shoulders bent, +and his face dogged. + +"I am prepared to swear on oath that I was not in Mangadone on the night +of July the twenty-ninth." + +"Not in Mangadone, Mr. Joicey. Mangadone proper ends at the tram lines; +the district beyond is known as Bhononie." + +Coryndon could see that his shot told. There were yellow patches around +Joicey's eyes, and a purple shadow passed across his face, leaving it +leaden. + +"Unless I can complete my case by other means, you will be called as a +witness to prove certain facts in connection with the disappearance of +the boy Absalom on the night of July the twenty-ninth." + +"Who is going to call me?" + +The question was curt, and Joicey's defiance was still strong, but there +was a certain huskiness in his voice that betrayed a very definite fear. + +"Leh Shin, the Chinaman, will call you. His neck will be inside a noose, +Mr. Joicey, and he will need your evidence to save his life." + +"Leh Shin? That man would swear anything. His word is worthless against +mine," said the Banker, raising his voice noisily. "If that is another +specimen of Secret Service bluff, it won't do. Won't do, d'you hear?" + +Coryndon tapped his fingers on the writing-table. + +"I can't agree with you in your conclusion that it 'won't do.' Taken +alone his statement may be worthless, but taken in connection with the +fact that you are in the habit of visiting his opium den by the river, +it would be difficult to persuade any judge that he was lying. I myself +have seen you going in there and coming out." + +He watched Joicey stare at him with blind rage; he watched him stagger +and reach out groping hands for a chair, and he saw the huge defiance +evaporate, leaving Joicey a trembling mass of nerves. + +"It's a lie," he said, mumbling the words as though they were dry bread. +"It's a damned, infernal lie!" + +A long silence followed upon his words, and Joicey mopped his face with +his handkerchief, breathing hard through his nose, his hands shaking as +though he was caught by an ague fit. + +"I'm in a corner," he said at last; "you've got the whip-hand of me, +Coryndon, but when I said I was not in Mangadone that night, I was +speaking the truth." + +"You were splitting a hair," suggested Coryndon. + +Joicey drew his heavy eyebrows together in an angry frown. + +"Let that question rest," he said, conquering his desire to break loose +in a passion of rage. + +"You went down Paradise Street some time after sunset. Will you tell me +exactly whom you saw on your way to the river house?" + +Craven Joicey steadied his voice and thought carefully. + +"I passed Heath, the Parson, he was coming from the direction of the +lower wharves, and was going towards Rydal's bungalow. I remember that, +because Rydal was in, my mind at the time; I had heard that his wife was +ill, probably dying, and just after I saw Absalom." + +He paused for a moment and moistened his lips. + +"Was he with anyone when you saw him?" + +"No, he was alone, and he was carrying a parcel. Anyhow, that is all I +can tell you about him that night." + +Joicey looked up as though he considered that he had said enough. + +"And from there you went to the opium den," said Coryndon relentlessly. + +The perspiration dripped from Joicey's hair, and he took up the threads +of the story once more. + +"I went there," he said, biting the words savagely. "I was sick at the +time. I'd had a go of malaria and was as weak as a kitten. The place was +empty, and only Leh Shin was in the house, and whether he gave me a +stronger dose, or whether I was too seedy to stand my usual quantity, I +can't tell you, but I overslept my time." + +He passed his hand over his face with a sideways look that was horrible +in its shamefacedness. Coryndon avoided looking at him in return, and +waited patiently until he went on. + +"Leh Shin remained with me. He never leaves the house whilst I am +inside," continued Joicey. "I was there the night of the twenty-ninth +and the day of the thirtieth. Luckily it was a Sunday and there was no +fear of questions cropping up, and I only got out at nightfall when it +was dark enough for me to go back without risk. Since then," he said, +rising to his feet and striking the writing-table with a clenched fist, +"I have been driven close to madness. Hartley was put on to the track of +Leh Shin by the lying old Burman, Mhtoon Pah, and Leh Shin's shop was +watched and he himself threatened. God! What I've gone through." + +"Thank you," said Coryndon, pushing back his chair. "You have been of +the very greatest assistance to me." + +Joicey sat down again, a mere torment-racked mass, deprived of the help +of his pretence, defenceless and helpless because his sin had found him +out in the person of a slim, dark-faced man, who looked at him with +burning pity in his eyes. + +The world jests at the abstract presentment of vice. From pulpits it +appears clothed in attractive words and is spoken of as alluring; and, +supported by the laughter of the idle and the stern belief of the +righteous in its charms, man sees something gallant and forbidden in +following its secret paths. The abstract view has the charm and +attraction of an impressionist picture, but once the curtain is down, +and the witness stands out with a terrible pointing finger, the laughter +of the world dies into silence, and the testimony of the preacher that +vice is provided with unearthly beauty becomes a false statement, and +man is conscious only of the degradation of his own soul. + +Coryndon left the room noiselessly and returned up the steps, along the +corridor and down the stone flight that led into the subsiding heat of +the late afternoon. The young man with the smooth, affable manner +wheeled a bicycle out of a far corner, and smiled pleasantly at +Coryndon. + +"You saw the Manager, and got what you wanted?" + +"I saw him, and got even more than I wanted," said Coryndon, with +conviction. + +Things like this puzzled the dream side of his nature and left him +exhausted. The gathering passion of rage in Joicey's eyes had not +touched him, but the memory of the big, bull-dog, defiant man huddled on +the low chair, his arm over his face, was a memory that spoke of other +things than what he had come there to discover; the terrible things that +are behind life and that have power over it. He had to collect himself +with definite force, as a child's attention is recalled to a +lesson-book. + +"He has cleared Leh Shin," he said to himself, and at first exactly all +that the words meant was not clear to his mind. Joicey had cleared the +Chinaman of complicity, and had knocked the whole structure of carefully +selected evidence away with a few words. + +Coryndon was back in Hartley's bungalow with this to consider; and it +left him in a strange place, miles from any conclusion. He had sighted +the end of his labours, seen the reward of his long secret watchfulness, +and now they had withdrawn again beyond his grasp. Heath had seen +Absalom with the Chinaman's assistant. Joicey, whose evidence marked a +later hour than that of Heath, had seen him alone, and the solitary +figure of the small boy hurrying into the dark was the last record that +indicated the way he had gone. + +Nothing connected itself with the picture as Coryndon sat brooding over +it, and then gradually his mind cleared and the confusion of the +destruction of his carefully worked-out plan departed from his brain +like a wind-blown cloud. There was a link, and his sensitive fine +fingers caught it suddenly, the very shock of contact sending the blood +into his cheeks. + +The picture was clear now. Absalom, a little white-clad figure, slim, +eager and dutiful, hurried into the shadows of night, but Coryndon was +at his heels this time. The clue was so tiny, so infinitesimal, that it +took the eye of a man trained to the last inch in the habit of seeing +everything to notice it, but it did not escape Coryndon. + +He joined Hartley at tea in the sitting-room, with its semi-official air +of being used for serious work, and Hartley fulfilled his avocation by +bringing Coryndon back from strange places into the heart of sane +humdrum existence. Surely if some men are pillars, and others rockets, +and more poets, professors and preachers, some are hand-rails, and only +the man who has just been standing on a dizzy height looking sheer into +the bottomless pit where nothing is safe and where life crumbles and +fear is too close to the consciousness, knows the value and even the +beauty of a hand-rail, and knows that there is no need to mock at its +limitations. For a few minutes Coryndon leant upon the moral support of +Hartley's cheery personality, and then he told him that he was going +back to the Bazaar that night, as circumstances led him to believe that +he might find what he wanted there and there only. + +"That means that you have cleared Heath?" + +Hartley's voice was relieved. + +"Heath is entirely exonerated." + +Coryndon wandered to the piano, and he played the twilight into the +garden, the bats out of the eaves, and he played the shadow of Joicey's +shame off his own soul until he was refreshed and renewed, and it was +time for him to return to his disguise and slip out of the house. + + + + +XXI + +DEMONSTRATES THE PERSUASIVE POWER OF A KNIFE EDGE, AND TELLS A STORY OF +A GOLD LACQUER BOWL + + +The obese boy sat in Leh Shin's shop, fiddling sometimes with his ears +and sometimes with the soles of his bare feet. He found life just a +little dull, and had he been able to express himself as "bored," he +would doubtless have done so. Peeling small dry scales of skin off +wear-hardened heels is not the most exciting occupation life affords, +and the assistant wished more than once that his master would return +from either the gambling den or the Joss House and liberate him for the +night. + +It was his night at the river house, and small opportunities for +pilfering from the drugged sleepers made these occasions both amusing +and profitable. On the whole he enjoyed the nights in the den, and they +added considerably to his bank in a box secreted behind the Joss who +flamed and pranced on the wall. Meanwhile, nothing was doing in the +shop, and company there was none, unless the cockroaches and the lizards +could be reckoned in that category. + +His master had been shaky and short of temper when he awoke from his +afternoon sleep, and had struck his assistant over the head more than +once in the course of an argument. Unseen things ticked and rustled in +dark corners, and the boy yawned loudly and stretched his arms, making +himself more hideous as his contracted mouth opened to its full oval in +his large round face. Still nothing happened and no one came, and he +returned to the closer examination of a blister that interested him. He +probed it with a needle, and it indicated its connection with his foot +by stinging as though he had burnt himself with a match. + +He was seated on a table bending over his horrible employment, half +pastime, half primitive operation, the light of the lamp full upon him, +when a sound of padding feet shook the floor and he looked up, his eyes +full of the effort of listening attentively, and saw a face peering in +at the door. For a moment he was startled, and then he swung his legs, +which hung short of the floor, over the side of the table and laughed +out loud. + +"So thou art back, Mountain of Wisdom?" he said jeeringly. "Come within +and tell me of thy journey." + +The Burman crept in stealthily, looking around him. + +"Aye, I am back. Having done the business." + +Curiosity leapt into the eyes of the Chinaman, and he dropped his +attitude of contempt. + +"What business?" he asked greedily. "Before thy departure thou wast +mute, stricken as a dumb man, neither wouldst thou speak in response to +any question." + +The Burman curled himself up on the floor and smiled complaisantly. + +"None the less, the business is done, O Bowl of Ghee, and I have +returned." + +The assistant ignored the personal description, and adopted a manner +calculated to ingratiate himself into the friendly confidence of the mad +Burman. He wriggled off the table and crouched on the floor a few inches +off Coryndon's face, and the contact being too close for human +endurance, Coryndon threw himself back into the corner and retired +behind a mask of cunning obstinacy. + +"Thy business, thy business," repeated the boy. "Was it in the nature of +the evil works of the bad man, thy friend?" He leered his encouragement, +and fumbling at his belt took out a small coin. "Here, I will give thee +two annas if thou tell the whole story to my liking." + +The Burman shook his head, but he appeared to be considering the offer +slowly in his obtuse and stagnant brain. + +"Give the money into mine own hand, that the reward be sure," he said, +as though he toyed with the idea. + +"Not so," replied the boy. "First the boiled rice and the salt, and +afterwards the payment. Thus is the way in honest dealings." + +The Burman shut his mouth tightly and exhibited signs of a return to his +former condition of dumbness that worked upon the assistant like gall. + +"Then, if nothing less will content thee, take thy money," he said in +frothy anger. "Take it and speak low, for it may be that eavesdroppers +are without in the street." + +He dropped the coin into the outstretched palm, but the Burman did not +begin his story. He got up and searched behind boxes and shook the rows +of hanging garments. He was so secret and silent that the boy became +exasperated and closed the narrow door into the street with a bang, +pulling across a heavy chain. + +"Let that content thee," he said irritably, chafing under the delay, and +sitting down, a frowsy, horrible object, in the dim corner, he prepared +to enjoy a further description out of the wild fantastic terrors of the +madman's brain. + +Surprise does not hover; its coming events are shadowless, and its +spring is the spring of a tiger out of the dark, and surprise came upon +Leh Shin's assistant as it has come upon men and nations since the world +first spun in space. + +He looked upon the Burman as a harmless lunatic, and he only +half-believed that he had ever been guilty of the act that had ended in +a term of imprisonment in the Andaman Islands, but in one moment he +realized that it might all be true and that he himself was possibly +singled out as the next victim. + +In one silent moment he found himself pinned in his corner, the Burman +squatting in front of him, a long knife which he had never seen before +pointing at his throat with horrible, determined persistency. + +He opened his mouth and thought to cry out for help, but the Burman +leaned forward and warned him that if he did so, his last minute had +inevitably come. + +"I am thy friend, thy good and honourable friend," he said pleasantly as +he made play with the Afghan dagger. "I do but make mirth for both +myself and thee, and I have no thought to harm thee." + +The flesh of the gross body crept and crawled under the Burman's look. +Fate had put the heart of a chicken in the huge frame of Leh Shin's +assistant, and it beat now like pelting hail on a frozen road. He was +close to a raw, naked fear, and it made him shameless as he gibbered and +cowered before it. + +"I have no money," he said, bleating out the words. "All that I have is +already paid to thee for thy tale." + +He whined and cringed and writhed in his close corner. + +"I have heard a strange tale," Coryndon said, bending a little closer to +him. "Old now as stale fish that has lain in the dust of the street. It +has been whispered in my ear that thou knowest how Absalom came to his +end." + +"I slew him in the house of a seaman," said the boy, in a quavering +voice. "Now take the point of thy knife from my throat, for it doth +greatly inconvenience pleasant speech between thee and me." + +Coryndon's watchful eye detected the lie before it announced itself in +words, or so it seemed to the boy, who resigned himself to the mere +paltry limitations of fact, and confessed that he and Absalom had been +friends and that he had never killed anything except a chicken, and once +a dog that was too young to bite his hand. + +The details of the story came out at long intervals, with breaks of +sweating terror between each one. Pieced together, it was simple enough. +In spite of the existing feud between their masters, Leh Shin's +assistant and Absalom had struck up a kind of friendship that was not +unlike the friendship of any two boys in any quarter of the globe. They +used special knocks upon the door, and when they passed as strangers in +the streets they made masonic signs to one another, and they also +gambled with European cards in off hours. + +The desire for money, so strong in the Chinaman, grew gradually in the +mind of the Christian boy, whose descent to Avernus was marked first by +the sale of his Sunday school prize-books, which he disposed of at the +Baptist Mission shop, receiving several rupees in return. Having once +possessed himself of what was wealth to him, and having lost most of it +in the gentlemanly vice of gambling, he began to need more, but being +slow-witted he could think of no way better than robbing Mhtoon Pah, +which suggestion the Chinaman's assistant looked upon as both dangerous +and weak, regarded in the light of a workable plan. + +It was inside his bullet-head that the idea of a plot that could not be +discovered came into its first nebulous being. Absalom found out that +Mhtoon Pah was looking for a gold lacquer bowl, and through the agency +of Leh Shin the bowl was eventually marked down as the property of a +seaman who was lodging temporarily near the opium den by the river, one +of Leh Shin's clients. The assistant had the good fortune to overhear +the preliminaries of the sale, and he immediately saw his opportunity, +as genius alone sees and recognizes chances. It was he who first told +Absalom that the bowl was located, and it was he who realized that +chance was beckoning on the adventurer. + +It was arranged that Absalom should inform Mhtoon Pah that the coveted +treasure was to be had for a price, and it was also the part of Mr. +Heath's best scholar, to obtain the money from Mhtoon Pah that was to be +paid over to the seaman for the bowl. By this time Absalom's gambling +debts had become a serious question with him, and even a lifelong +mortgage upon his weekly pay could hardly cover his liabilities. Besides +which, he had to live. That painful necessity which dogs the career of +greater men than Absalom. + +He appeared to have an almost childish trust in the craft and guile of +his Chinese friend, and set the whole matter before him. Mhtoon Pah was +ready to pay two hundred rupees for the lacquer bowl, as he was already +offered five hundred by Mrs. Wilder, and was content with the profit. +Two hundred rupees was a sum that was essentially worth some risk. To +hand it over to a drunken seaman was against all moral precept. The +sailor's ways were scandalous, his gain would go into evil hands. +Treated in this manner, even a Sunday-school graduate could lull an +uneasy conscience, and as far as Coryndon could judge, Absalom was not +troubled by any warnings from that silent mentor. Out of the brain of +Leh Shin's assistant the great scheme had leapt full-grown, and it only +required a little careful preparation to put it into action. + +The assistant knew the sailor, a Lascar with a craving for drink, and he +became friendly with him "out of hours," and learned his ways and the +times when he was likely to be in the house where he lodged. The sailor, +having come to know that value was attached to his bowl, guarded it with +avaricious care when in a condition to do so; and Leh Shin, who trusted +his assistant, through whom the news of the deal had first come to his +ear, offered the man fifty rupees for what he had merely stolen from a +shop in Pekin. It took the assistant a full week to arrange events so +that he and Absalom could work together for the moral good of the +sailor, and protect him from the snares of lucre, represented by a third +of the money Leh Shin expected to receive. + +He dwelt with some pride upon the fact, and his vanity in this +particular almost conquered his fear of the Afghan blade that still +nestled close to his bull neck. He had drunk in friendship with the +sailor, dropping a drug into his cup, and waiting till his eyes grew dim +and he fell forward in a heavy sleep. But even in the moment of +achievement his wits were worth more than the wits of Absalom, for he +ran out of the house and established an alibi while the Christian boy +filched the bowl from beneath the bed of the intoxicated sailor. At a +given hour he waited for Absalom just where Heath had stood after he +had parted from Rydal, and so chance played twice into his hands in one +night. Absalom, who appeared to have imbibed some rudimentary principles +of honour among thieves, passed the boy his share, which was a hundred +and twenty rupees, including his debts of honour, and having done so, +sped away into the night, the bowl under his arm. + +"And that is all the story," said the boy, beating his hands on the +floor, and returning from the momentary forgetfulness of the narrative +to the immediate fear of the knife. "Further than that, I know nothing. +The hour is late and if I am not at the river house I shall feel the +wrath of my master." + +"It is a poor tale, a paltry tale," said the Burman, in tones of +disgust. "One that hardly requites me for my patience in hearing it +out." + +He slipped his knife back into his belt and got up from his heels with a +leisurely movement. The boy, still on all fours, watched him closely, +and the Burman, his eye attracted by a bright tin kettle hanging among +the other goods dependent from the ceiling, stood looking at it, and as +he looked the boy dodged out with a rush, overturning a bale of goods, +and tearing at the door like a mad dog, disappeared into the street. + +Coryndon watched him go, and went back to his corner to wait until Leh +Shin should return from either the gambling den or the Joss House. He +had something to say to Leh Shin, something that could not wait to be +said, and he composed himself to the necessary patience that is part of +all close, careful search, and while he waited, he turned over the +evidence that had arisen from the little clue that Joicey had given him. +Absalom had a parcel under his arm, and that parcel was the gold lacquer +bowl that had passed from Mhtoon Pah's curio shop to Mrs. Wilder's +writing-table. + +Coryndon fiddled with his fingers in the dust of the floor, and took a +blood-stained rag out of his pocket and spread it over his knee. Here +was another tangible piece of evidence brought by Mhtoon Pah to Hartley. +So the record of circumstance closed in. Coryndon thought again. A +lacquer bowl and a stained rag of silk, that was all. If he handed over +the case to Hartley and Mhtoon Pah was really guilty, other evidence +would in all probability be found, and the whole mystery made clear. + +He leaned against the wall and watched the throbbing lamp-wick, fighting +his passion for completed work and his conviction that only he could see +it through to its ultimate conclusion. He knew that he was dealing with +wits quite as crafty as his own, and argued the point from the other +side. Mhtoon Pah had given the rag himself to Hartley, and had sworn +that the bowl was left on the steps of his shop. If no further proof was +forthcoming, these two facts unsupported were almost worthless. Unless a +complete denial of his story could be set against it, Hartley stood to +be checkmated. + +Coryndon had nearly decided against Leh Shin. He drew his knees up under +his chin and came to a definite conclusion. He could not give up the +case as it stood; he was absolved from any hint of professional +jealousy, and he could count himself free to follow the evidence until +it led him irrevocably to the spot where the whole detail was clear and +definite. + +All the faces of the men who had figured in the drama floated across his +mind, and he thought of the strange key that turned in the lock of one +small trivial destiny, opening other doors as if by magic. Absalom's +life or death had no outward connection with the Head of the Mangadone +Banking Firm, it had nothing in all its days to bring it into touch with +Rydal and Rydal's tragedy--Rydal whom Coryndon had never seen. It lay +apart, severed by race and every possible accident of birth or chance, +from the successful wife of a successful Civil Servant, or an earnest, +hard-working clergyman, and yet the great net of Destiny had been spread +on that night of the 29th of July, and every one of them had fallen into +its meshes. + +All the immense problem of the plan that so decides the current of men's +lives came over him, and he saw the limitless value of the insignificant +in life. Absalom was only a little floating piece of jetsam on the great +waters that divided all these lives, yet he was the factor that had +taken the place of the keystone in the arch; the pivot around which the +force that guided and ruled the whole apparent chaos had moved. Coryndon +wandered a long way in his thoughts from the shop where he sat on the +dusty floor, waiting for the return of Leh Shin. He was so still that +the cockroaches and black-beetles crept out again and formed into +marauding expeditions where the shadows of the hanging clothes fell +dark. + +He turned himself from the pressure of his thought and closed his eyes, +resting his brain in a quiet pool of untroubled silence. He knew the +need and the art of absolute relaxation from the strain of thought, and +though he did not sleep, he looked as though he slept, until he heard +the sound of approaching feet and a hand pushed against the door. + + + + +XXII + +IN WHICH CORYNDON HOLDS THE LAST THREAD AND DRAWS IT TIGHT + + +When Leh Shin opened the shop door and pushed in his grey, gaunt face, +he looked around as though wondering in a half-dreamy, half-detached +abstraction where some object he had expected to see had gone. At length +his eyes wandered to the Burman, who sat on the ground eyeing him with a +curiously intent and concentrated regard. + +"Thine assistant hath gone to the river house," he said, answering the +unspoken question. "He left me in charge of thy shop and thy goods." + +Leh Shin nodded silently and closed the door. When he turned, the Burman +beckoned to him with a studied suggestion of mystery. + +"What is thy message?" asked Leh Shin. He believed the Burman to be +afflicted with a madness, and his odd and persistent movement of his arm +hardly conveyed anything to the drowsy, drugged brain of the Chinaman. + +The Burman made no reply, but beckoned again, pointing to the floor +beside him in dumb show, and Leh Shin advanced slowly and took up his +place on a grass mat a little distance off. Silently, and very softly, +the Burman crept near to him, and putting his mouth close to his ear, +talked in a rapid, hissing whisper. His words were low, but their effect +upon Leh Shin was startling, for he recoiled as though touched by a hot +needle. His hands clutched his clothes, and his whole frame stiffened. +Even when he drew away, he listened with avidity as the Burman continued +to pour forth his story. + +He had a friend in the household of Hartley Sahib, so he told Leh Shin, +a friend who had sensitive ears and had heard much; had heard in fact +the whole story of the stained rag, and of Mhtoon Pah's wild appeal for +justice against the Chinaman. + +"Well for thee, Leh Shin, that I have a friend in the house of that +_Thakin_ who rules the Police. But for him I should not have been +informed of the plot against thy life, for, 'on this evidence,' saith +he, 'assuredly they will hang the Chinaman, and Mhtoon Pah is witness +against him.'" + +"Mhtoon Pah, Mhtoon Pah!" said Leh Shin, and he needed to add no curses +to the name, spoken as he said it. + +When Coryndon had fully explained that his friend, who was in the +service of Hartley, had not only given him a circumstantial account of +how the rag was to be used as final and conclusive evidence of Leh +Shin's guilt, but that he had also stolen the rag out of Hartley Sahib's +locked box, to be safely returned to him later, Leh Shin almost tore it +from between Coryndon's fingers. + +"Nay, I cannot deliver it unto thee. My word is pledged. Look closely at +it, if thou wilt, but it may not leave my hand or I break my oath." + +He held it under the circle of lamplight, and the Chinaman leaned over +his shoulder to look at it. For a long time he examined it carefully, +feeling its texture and touching it with light fingers. + +Coryndon watched him with some interest. The Chinaman was applying some +definite test to the silk, known to himself. At last he turned his eyes +on the Burman, staring with a gaunt, fierce look that saw many things, +and when he spoke his words grated and rattled and his voice was almost +beyond his control. + +"See now, O servant of Justice, I am learned in the matter of silks, and +without doubt this comes surely from but one place." + +Again he fell to touching the silk, and his crooked fingers shook as he +explained that the fragment was one he could identify. It was not the +product of the silk looms of Burma, or Shantung; it could not be +procured even in Japan. It was a rare and special product fashioned by +certain lake-dwellers in the Shan states, and so small was their output +that it went to no market. + +"In one shop only in Mangadone," he said; "nay, in one shop only in the +whole world may such silk be found. Thus, in his craft, hath mine enemy +overreached himself." + +"Thou art certain of this?" + +"As I am that the sun will rise." + +Coryndon looked again at the silk, and sat silently thinking. + +"The piece is cut off roughly," he said, after a moment of reflection. +"Yet, could it be fitted into the space left in the roll, then thou art +cleared, and hast just cause against Mhtoon Pah." + +"If thy madness comprehends so much, let it carry thee further still, O +stricken and afflicted," said Leh Shin, imploring him with voice and +gesture. "Night after night have I stood outside his shop, but who may +enter through a locked door? A breath, a shadow, or a flame, but not a +man." He lay on the ground and dug his nails into the floor. "I know the +shop from within and without, and I know that the lock opens with +difficulty but to one key, the key that hangs on a chain around the neck +of Mhtoon Pah." + +Silence fell again as Leh Shin wrestled with the problem that confronted +him. + +"What saidst thou?" said the Burman, suddenly coming to life. "A key?" + +He gave a low, chuckling laugh and rocked about in his corner. + +"Knowest thou of the story of Shiraz, the Punjabi?" + +"I have no mind for tales," said Leh Shin, striking at him with a futile +blow of rage. + +"Nay, restrain thy wrath, since thou hast spoken of a key. With a key +that was made by sorcery, he was enabled to open the treasure-box of the +Lady Sahib, and often hath he told me that all doors may be opened by +it, large or small. It is not hard for me to take it from under his +pillow while he sleeps." + +The Chinaman's jaw dropped, and he cast up his hands in mute +astonishment. If this was madness, sanity appeared only a doubtful +blessing set beside it. He drew his own wits together, and leaning near +the Burman laid before him the rough outline of a plan. + +Mhtoon Pah's ways were known to him. Usually he went to the Pagoda after +the shop was closed, and he returned from there late; it was impossible +to be accurate as to the exact hour of his return. To risk detection was +to shatter all chance of success, and it was necessary to make sure +before attempting to break into the shop and identify the silk rag with +the original roll, if that might be done. + +There was only one course open to the Burman and Leh Shin, and that was +to wait until there was a _Pwe_ at the Pagoda, which Mhtoon Pah would +certainly attend, as his new shrine drew many curious gazers to the +Temple. It would also draw the inhabitants of Paradise Street out of the +quarter, and leave the place practically deserted. For many reasons it +was necessary to wait such an opportunity, though Leh Shin raved at the +delay. It seemed to him that the whole plan was of his suggesting, and +he did not realize that every vague question put by the Burman led him +step by step to the complicated scheme. + +"To-morrow I will send forth my assistant to bring me word of the next +_Pwe_, so that the night may be marked in my mind, and that I shall gain +pleasure in considering the nearing downfall of my enemy." + +Coryndon slipped off to his house. He was tired mentally and physically, +but before he slept, he took a bundle of keys from his dispatch-box and +tied them to the waist of his _loongyi_. + +In the morning there was a fresh surprise for Leh Shin. His assistant +refused to leave the river house, and no persuasion would lure him out +to look after his master's shop. He was afraid of something or someone, +and he wept and entreated to be left where he was. Leh Shin beat him and +tried to drive him out, to no purpose, and in the end he prevailed over +his master, whose mind was occupied with other and more weighty affairs. + +Like a black shadow, Leh Shin crept about the streets, and he questioned +one and another as to the festivities to be held at the Pagoda. +Everywhere he heard of Mhtoon Pah's shrine, and of the great holiness of +the curio dealer. Mhtoon Pah was giving a feast at the Pagoda with +presents for the priests, and the night chosen was the night of the full +moon. + +"Art thou bidden?" asked one who remembered the day of Leh Shin's +prosperity. + +"It is in my thoughts, friend, to make my peace," said Leh Shin, with an +immovable face. "On the night when the moon is full, I am minded to do +so." + +His words were carried back to Mhtoon Pah, who pondered over them, +wondering what the Chinaman meant, finding something sinister in the +sound that added to his rage against his enemy. + +The day of the feast was dark and overcast, and the inhabitants of +Paradise Street looked at the sky with great misgiving, but the curio +dealer refused to be alarmed. + +"The night will be fine, for I have greatly propitiated the _Nats_," he +said with conviction, and he lolled and smoked in his chair at an +earlier hour than was usual with him. + +Even as he had said, the evening began to clear, and by sunset the heavy +clouds were all dispersed. A red sunset unfolded itself in a scroll of +fire across the sky, and Mangadone looked as though it was illuminated +by the flames of a conflagration. A strange evening, some said then, and +many said after. Even the pointing man lost his jaundice-yellow and +seemed to blush as he pointed up the steps. He had nothing to blush for. +His master was at the summit of his power. The _Hypongyis_ lauded him +openly in the streets, and he was giving a feast at the Temple at which +the poorest would not be forgotten. + +Yet Mhtoon Pah was not altogether easy. His eyes rolled strangely from +time to time, and it was remarked by several that he walked to the end +of Paradise Street and looked down the Colonnade of the Chinese quarter, +standing there in thought. Old stories of the feud between him and Leh +Shin were recalled in whispers and passed about. + +The red of the sunset died out into rose-pink, and the effect of colour +in the very air faded and dwindled. People were already dressed out in +gala clothing, and streaming towards the Pagoda. The giver of the feast +did not start with them. He sat in his chair, and then withdrew into his +shop. A light travelled from thence to the upper story, and then with +slow hesitation, Mhtoon Pah came out by the front of the house and +locked the clamped padlock. He stood still for a few minutes, and then +he gasped and shook his fist at the empty air, and he, too, took his way +across the bridge and was lost in the shadows. + +Still the stream from Wharf Street and the confluent streets flowed on +up Paradise Street, and gradually only the maimed and the aged, or the +impossibly youthful, were left behind, to hear of the wonders afterwards +at secondhand, a secondhand likely to add rather than detract from what +actually took place. Even the Colonnade was empty and silent. Shiraz had +gone with the crowd to see what might be seen, and Leh Shin's assistant, +furtive and watchful, and in great terror of the Burman's knife, was +also in the throng that climbed the Pagoda steps. + +The moon that was to have shone on Mhtoon Pah's feast rose in a yellow +ring, and clouds came up, hazy, gaudy clouds that dimmed its light and +made the shadows in the silent streets dense and heavy. Usually there +was a police guard at the corner where Paradise Street met the +Colonnade, but that night Hartley considered the police would be more +necessary in the neighbourhood of the Pagoda. Mhtoon Pah did not think +of this. His conscience was easy, he had propitiated the _Nats_. + +The Pagoda was one blaze of light, and a thousand candles flamed before +every shrine; even the oldest and most neglected had its ring of light. +Small coloured lamps dotted the outlines of some of the booths, and the +whole spectacle presented a moving mass of brilliant colour. Sahibs had +come there. Hartley Sahib had agreed to appear for half an hour, and he +too looked at the crowd with curious, travelling eyes. Coryndon might be +among them, and probably was, he thought, but in any case there was +little chance of his recognizing him if he were. + +Mhtoon Pah had not spared magnificent display, and the crowd told each +other that it was indeed a night to remember in Mangadone. Whispering +winds came out and rang the Temple bells, but even when the breeze +strengthened, the rain-clouds held off. It became a matter for +compliment and congratulation, and Mhtoon Pah accepted his friends' +flattery without pride. He was a good man, a benefactor, a +shrine-builder who followed "the Way" with zeal and fervour, and +besides, he had propitiated _Nats_; _Nats_ who blew up storms, caused +earthquakes and were evilly disposed towards men. + +Mhtoon Pah would have been at the point where a man's life touches +sublimity, but for one thing. The words of Leh Shin echoed in his ears +over all the applause and adulation. + +"It is in my thought, friend, to make my peace. On the night of the full +moon I am minded to do so." + +The moon riding clear of clouds, shone out over the concourse of men and +women. Anywhere among them all might be Leh Shin, the needy Chinaman, +and gripping his large hands into fists, Mhtoon Pah watched for him and +expected him, but watch as he might, he did not come, neither was there +any sign of him among all the crowd of faces that passed and repassed +before the new shrine. + + + + +XXIII + +DEMONSTRATES THE TRUTH OF THE AXIOM THAT "THE UNEXPECTED ALWAYS HAPPENS" + + +At the time when Mhtoon Pah was standing in the centre of a gazing group +before the new shrine, and trying to forget that nothing except the news +of Leh Shin's hanging would give him real satisfaction, the Chinaman, +accompanied by the Burman, slipped up the channel of gloom under the +Colonnade and made his way into Paradise Street. + +The Burman walked with an easy unconscious step, but Leh Shin crept +close to the wall and started when he passed a sleeping form in a +doorway. Night fears and that trembling anxiety that comes when +fulfilment is close at hand were upon him. He knew that the point in +view was to effect an entrance into the curio shop, the threshold of +which he had not crossed since his last black hour of misfortune had +struck and he had gone out a beggar. + +Everything in his life lay on the other side of the shop door; all his +happy, prosperous, careless days, all the good years. Every one of them +was stored there just as surely as Mhtoon Pah's ivories and carved +screens and silks were stored safe against the encroachment of damp and +must. His old self might even be somewhere in the silent house, and it +takes a special quality of courage for a man to return and walk through +a doorway into the long past. For the first time for years he remembered +how he had brought his little son into the shop, and how the child had +laughed and crowed at the sight of amber and crystal chains. + +Even Mhtoon Pah grew dim in his mind, and he dallied with the forgotten +memories as he stood shaking in an archway watching the Burman cross the +street. Insensibly the Burman's mania had waned in the last few hours, +and he had grown silent and preoccupied, a fact that escaped Leh Shin's +notice. His owl eyes blinked with the strain of staring through the +wavering light, and his memories strove with him as though in physical +combat. Mhtoon Pah was no longer in the house, and instead of his shadow +another influence seemed to brood there, something that called to Leh +Shin, but not with the wild cry of hate. Before the days of still +greater affluence Leh Shin had lived there with his little Burmese wife. + +The Burman was on his knees, having some difficulty with the lock. He +could see him fighting it, and at last he saw the jerk of his hand that +told that the key had turned, and that the way was clear. Leh Shin dived +out of the recess and ran, a flitting shadow, across the road. The door +was open, but the Burman for all his madness was not satisfied. There +was a way out through the back by which they could emerge, and if the +front door hung loose, careless eyes might easily be attracted to the +fact. The pointing man was not there for nothing. Almost everyone +looked up the steps. Even in his fury of impatience, Leh Shin saw the +reason for caution, and agreed to open a window, and admit the Burman +after he had locked the door again. + +The moments were full of the tense agony of suspense, and he peered +cautiously out from under the silk blind. A late passer-by went slowly +up the street, and Leh Shin's heart beat a loud obbligato to the sound +of his wooden pattens. By craning his neck as the man passed, he could +just distinguish the Burman crouching behind the wooden man, who blandly +indicated the heavy padlock. The wooden man lied woodenly to the effect +that all was well within the curio shop, and a few minutes later the +Burman swung himself over the balustrade and climbed with cat-like +agility on to the window-ledge. + +The darkness of the room was heavy with scent, and Leh Shin stumbled +over unknown things. Coryndon struck a match and held it in the hollow +of one palm as he opened the aperture in the dark lantern he carried, +and lighted it. When he had done so he looked up, and taking no notice +of the masses of beautiful things, he went quickly to the silk cupboard, +opening it with another key on the ring. + +"Leh Shin," he said, speaking in a commanding whisper, "turn thyself +into an ear, and listen for me while I search." + +Leh Shin nodded silently, half-stupidly it seemed, and went on tip-toes +to the door that opened into the passage. All the power of the past was +over him, and though he heard the Burman's curt command he hardly seemed +to understand what he meant. For a little time he stood at the door, +hearing the rustling whisper of yards of silk torn down and glanced over +and discarded, and then he wandered almost without knowing it up the +staircase and through the rooms, until the sight of Mhtoon Pah's bed and +some of Mhtoon Pah's clothing recalled his mind to the reason of his +being there. + +He hurried down, his bare feet making no sound on the stairs, and looked +into the shop again. The Burman was seated on the floor, a width of silk +over his knees; all the displaced rolls had been put back. He had worked +swiftly and with the greatest care that no trace of his visit should be +known later. + +Leh Shin slid out again. The passage was dark as pitch, but he knew +every turn and twist of its windings, and he knew that it led down to +the cellars below the house. He was awake and alert now as Coryndon +himself, and as he strained his ears he caught a sound. He listened +again with horrible eagerness, looked back into the shop and saw the +stooping head going over every yard of a roll of fine silk faithfully; +and then he gripped the knife under his belt and, feeling along the wall +with his free hand, followed along the corridor. Once only he glanced +round and then the darkness of the corridor swallowed him from sight. + +Coryndon, busy with the silk made by the lake-dwellers spread over his +knees, knew nothing of Leh Shin's disappearance. The fever of chase was +in his blood, and he threw the flimsy yards through his hands. Nothing, +nothing, and again nothing, and again--he felt his heart swell with +sudden, stifled excitement. Under his hand was a three-cornered rent, a +damaged piece where a patch rather larger than his palm had been roughly +cut out. His usually steady hand shook as he put the stained rag over it +and fitted it into the place. + +"Leh Shin," he called, as he rose, but he called softly. + +No sound answered his whisper, and he stiffened his body and listened. +He had been wrong. There was a sound, but it did not come from inside +the shop: it was the slow footstep of a heavy man pausing to find a key. + +Coryndon listened no longer. He closed the door of the silk cupboard, +bundled up the yards of silk in his arms and extinguishing the lamp +darted behind a screen. It was a heavy carved teak screen, inset with +silk panels embroidered with a long spray of hanging wistaria on a dark +yellow ground. As he hid himself, he cursed his own stupidity. In the +excitement of his desire to enter the curio shop, he had forgotten to +hamper the lock with pebbles. + +After what seemed an age, the door opened slowly and Mhtoon Pah came in. +Something, he knew not what, had dragged him away from the Pagoda, and +dragged him back to his shop. His eyes looked mad and unnatural in the +light of the lantern he held in his hand, and he shut the door and stood +like a dog who scents danger, and stared round the room. He walked to +the silk cupboard and looked in through the glass panes, but did not +open it or discover that it was unlocked. He paced round the room, +stopping before the screen, his eyes still reflecting his trouble of +mind. + +From behind the screen, Coryndon watched every stir he made; he saw the +look on his face and noted Mhtoon Pah's smallest movement. There was no +evidence of thieves, and yet suspicion made itself plain in every line +of the curio dealer's body. At last, with a gasping sigh, he sat before +the small figure of an alabaster Gaudama and stared at it with unwinking +eyes. + +"I shed no blood," he said, in a low rattling voice. "I shed no blood. +My hands are clean." + +Over and over he repeated the words, like an incantation, his voice +rising and falling, until Coryndon could have emerged from his hiding +and taken him by the throat. + +The thought of coming out upon Mhtoon Pah crossed his mind, but his +instinct held him back. He wondered desperately where Leh Shin had gone, +and if he would come in upon the Burman making his strange prayer. Still +Mhtoon Pah repeated the words and swayed to and fro before the image of +the Buddha, and the very moments seemed to pause and listen with +Coryndon. The shop was close and the air oppressive. Little trickles of +sweat ran down his neck and made channels in the stain on his skin, and +still Coryndon waited in tense suspense. + +For nearly ten minutes Mhtoon Pah continued to rock and mutter on the +floor, and then he got up, and, taking his lantern, went out by the door +into the passage. Coryndon waited for the sound of a scuffle and a +fall, but none came, and he was in the dark, surrounded by silence once +more. + +Without waiting to consider, he followed across the room and saw the +swinging light go down the passage and disappear suddenly. It seemed to +Coryndon that Mhtoon Pah had disappeared, as though he had gone through +the wall at the end of the passage, and he followed slowly. Silence +locked him in again, the dark, motionless silence of enclosed space. + +He did not dare to call out again to Leh Shin, and for all that he could +tell, the Chinaman might have been an arm's-reach away from him in the +darkness, also waiting for some sudden thing to happen. The dark passage +was an ante-chamber to some event: Coryndon's tingling nerves told him +that; and he steadied himself, holding in his imagination in a close, +resolute grip. + +He had no way of judging the time that passed, but he guessed that it +seemed longer to him than it possibly could have been; when from +somewhere far below him, he heard a cry and the noise of several voices, +all raised into indistinct clamour. + +"More than one man," he thought, as his heart beat quickly. "_More than +two_," he added, in wonder as he strained in the effort of listening. + +The noise died out, and one low wail, continuous and plaintive, filled +the blank of dark silence. Coryndon felt for his matches, and knelt on +the floor, feeling before him with his hands. The crying had ceased, and +he touched the edge of a step. A long, steep flight began just under his +hand. + +He leaned back and held the match-box in his hand, knowing that he +could not venture the descent in the dark, and as he took out a match a +new sound caught his ear. A man was running in the dark. He heard him +stumble over the lower steps as he panted fiercely and he broke into a +cry as he ran, a strange, mad, sobbing cry, and he still gasped and gave +out his wordless wail as he tore past Coryndon and on along the passage +and into the shop. + +Coryndon heard the door bang behind him, he heard the sound of some +heavy thing being dragged before it. The footsteps and the voice were +not those of Leh Shin, and Coryndon knew that Mhtoon Pah had fled like a +man pursued by devils, and had barricaded himself in. + +For a moment Coryndon paused, and then lighted a match. Close under his +feet was the perilous edge of a staircase leading sheer down into a +well-like depth of blackness. A thin scream came up to him, and without +waiting to consider, he ran down quickly. At the bottom he found Mhtoon +Pah's overturned lantern, and relighting it, he followed the +intermittent call of fear that echoed through the damp, cavernous place +he found himself in. + +A closed door stood at the end of a narrow passage, and from the further +side of the door a stifled sound of terror came persistently. Leh Shin +sat in a huddled heap against the door, and Coryndon stooped over him, +throwing the light from the lantern he carried upon him. + +"I looked into his eyes," said the Chinaman, in a weak voice, "and once +more he overcame me. His knife rent my arm, and I fell as though dead." + +Coryndon supported him to his feet. His mind was working quickly. + +"Canst thou stand by thyself?" he asked impatiently. + +The Chinaman gave a nod of assent, and Coryndon hammered on the door, +throwing all his weight against it, until it cracked and fell inwards +under the nervous force of his slight frame. + +What Coryndon expected to see, he did not know. He was following his +natural instinct when he threw aside the chase and capture of Mhtoon Pah +and burst into the cellar-room. It was small and close, and smelt of the +foul, fruity atmosphere of mildew. The ceiling was low, and crouching in +one corner was a small boy, clad only in a loin-cloth, who stared at +them and screamed with fear. + +"The Chinamen, the Chinamen!" he shrieked. "Mhtoon Pah, the Chinamen." + +"Absalom," the name came to Coryndon's lips, as he stood staring at him. +"My God, it must be Absalom." + +He had spoken in English before he had time to think, and he turned to +see if his self-betrayal had struck upon the confused brain of Leh Shin, +but Leh Shin knew nothing and saw nothing but the face of the boy his +enemy loved. He had placed the lamp on the floor and was feeling for his +dagger, his eyes fascinated and his lips working soundlessly. + +Coryndon caught him by the shoulder and snatched his knife from his +hand. + +"Fool," he said. "Wouldst thou ruin all at the end? Listen closely and +attend to me. Now is the moment to cry for the police. Thine enemy is in +a close net; show me swiftly the way by which I may go out of this +house, and sit thou here and stir not, neither cry out nor speak until +thou hearest the police. By the way I go out will I leave the door open, +and some will enter there, and others at the front of the house." + +He turned to look at the boy, who pointed at the Chinaman and continued +to shriek for Mhtoon Pah. It was no moment for hesitation, though +Coryndon's thoughts went to the shop and the front door. By that door +Mhtoon Pah might already have escaped, but even allowing for this, there +was time to catch him again. He followed the way pointed out by the +shaking hand of Leh Shin. + +"If thou fail in aught that I have told thee, or if the boy escape or +suffer under thy hand, then is thine end also come," he said, as he +stood for a moment in the aperture that led into a waste place at the +back of the house; and then Coryndon ran through the night. + +The rain had come on, teeming, relentless rain that fell in pitiless +sheets out of a black sky. The roads ran with liquid mud and the stones +cut Coryndon's bare feet, but he ran on, his lungs aching and his throat +dry. It is not easy to think with the blood hammering in the pulses and +the breath coming short through gasping lungs, but Coryndon kept his +mind fixed upon one idea with steady determination. His object was to +get into the house unnoticed, and to awake Hartley without betraying +himself to the servants. + +Hartley's bungalow was closed for the night, and the _Durwan_ slept +rolled in a blanket in a corner of the veranda. Coryndon held his +sobbing breath and crept along the shadows, watching the man closely +until the danger zone was passed, and then he ran on around the sharp +angle of the house and dived into Hartley's room. In the centre stood +the bed, draped in the ghostly outlines of white mosquito-curtains, and +Coryndon walked lightly over the matted floor and shook the bed gently. +Hartley stirred but did not wake, and Coryndon called his name and +continued to call it in a low whisper. The Head of the Police stirred +again and then sat up suddenly and answered Coryndon in the same low +undertone. + +"Get into your clothes quickly, while I tell you what has happened," +said Coryndon, sitting low in the shadow of the bed, and while Hartley +dressed he told him the details shortly and clearly. + +The bungalow was still in darkness, and, with a candle in his hand to +light him, Hartley went into his office and rang up the Paradise Street +Police Station. When he came back Coryndon was standing looking through +a corner of a raised chick. + +"The _Durwan_ is awake," he said, without turning his head. "Call him +round to the front, otherwise he may see me." + +"Come on, come on, man," said Hartley impatiently, "there is no time to +lose." + +Coryndon turned and smiled at him. + +"This is where I go out of the case," he said. "I shall be back in time +for breakfast to-morrow," and without waiting to argue the point he +dived out into the waning darkness of the night, leaving Hartley looking +helplessly after him. + + + + +XXIV + +IN WHICH A WOODEN IMAGE POINTS FOR THE LAST TIME + + +Before the Burman left Leh Shin in charge of Absalom, he had pinned the +Chinaman by the arms and spoken to him in strange, strong words that +scorched clear across the chaos in his mind and made him understand a +hidden thing. The fact that this man was not a mad convict, but a member +of the great secret society who tracked the guilty, almost stunned the +Chinaman, who knew and understood the immense power of secret societies. + +Mhtoon Pah might be driving wildly along a road leading out of +Mangadone, and though one old Chinaman and a mad Burman could not stop +him, the long arm of police law would grab and capture his gross body. +Leh Shin sat quite still, content to rest and consider this. Telegrams +flashed messages under the great bidding of authority, men sprang armed +from stations in every village, the close grip of fate was not more +close than the grasp of the awakened machinery of justice, and in the +centre of its power Mhtoon Pah was helpless as a fly in the web of a +spider. + +"He travels fast, and fear is sitting on his shoulder, for he travels +to his death," he repeated over and over, swaying backwards and +forwards. + +He had an opium pellet hidden somewhere in his clothes, and he found it +and turned it over his tongue; weariness and sleep conquered the pain, +and Leh Shin sat with his head bent forward in heavy stupor. From this +condition he awoke to lights and noises and the sound of a file working +on iron. + +The police had come and Hartley was bending over the boy, talking to him +kindly and reassuring him as far as he could. Upstairs, the heavy thud +of blows on the outer door of the shop echoed through the house with +steady, persistent sound. + +Dawn had come in real earnest, and the street, but lately returned from +the excitements of the feast at the Pagoda, was thrilled by a new and +much more satisfying sensation. Three blue-coated, leather-belted +policemen were on the top of the steps that led to the door of the curio +shop, forcing it in. The heavy bolts held, and though the padlocked +chain hung idle, the door resisted all their efforts. + +Hartley was down in the cellars, and his way through to the shop was +blocked . . . blocked by the inner door which was also closed from +inside, and somewhere within was Mhtoon Pah. He was very silent in his +shop. No amount of hammering called forth any response, and even when +the door gave way and the bolt fell clattering to the ground, he did not +spring out. + +People had sometimes wondered at the curious destiny of the wooden man. +He had been there so long and had done his duty so faithfully. In rain +or shine alike, he had always been in the street, eternally bowing the +passers up the steps. Americans had tried to buy him, and had wished to +take him home to point at other free and enlightened citizens, but +Mhtoon Pah refused all offers of money. The wooden man was faithful to +him, and he in his turn was, in some way, faithful to the wooden man. He +had been there when Mhtoon Pah was a clerk and had indicated his rise, +he had seen him take over possession of the shop, and he had been +witness to many trivial things, and now he stood, the crowd behind him, +and pointed silently again. It seemed right for him to point, but it was +grotesque that he still smiled and bent forward. + +The closed gates of the dawn opened and let in the sun, and the pale +yellow light ventured across the threshold where the policemen hung +back, and even the crowd in the street were silent. The light fell on a +thousand small things that reflected its rays; it fell on a heavy carved +box drawn across the further entrance, on the swinging glass doors of +the open silk cupboard, on bowls of silver and bowls of brass, and it +fell full on the thing that of all others drew the horrified eyes of the +watchers. + +Mhtoon Pah, the wealthy curio dealer, the shrine builder, the friend of +the powerful, hung from a beam across the centre of the low ceiling, and +Mhtoon Pah was dead, strangled in a fine, silk scarf. Fine, strong silk +made only by certain lake-dwellers in a wild place just across the Shan +frontier. + +Perhaps the destiny which Shiraz believed a man may not escape, be he as +fleet as a flying stag, had caught up with him, and it was not without +reason that the image had pointed at something not there years ago, not +there when youth was there, and hope and love, and when Leh Shin had +lived and been happy there, but to come, certainly and surely to come. + + * * * * * + +Hartley and Coryndon sat long over their breakfast. Coryndon's face was +strained and tired, and heavy lines of fatigue were marked under his +dark eyes. + +"The boy was not in a condition to give any lucid explanation when I +brought him back," said Hartley, "so I left him until we could both hear +his story together." He called to his Bearer and gave instructions for +the boy to be brought in. + +Coryndon nodded silently; his eyes lit up with interest and all his +listlessness vanished as he watched the door. + +Following Hartley's Bearer, a small, thin boy came into the room, +dressed in a white suit, with a tight white pugaree folded round his +head. He shrank nervously at every sound, and when he salaamed to +Hartley and Coryndon his face worked as though he was going to burst +into tears. + +"You have nothing to be afraid of," said Hartley kindly. "Just tell the +whole truth, and explain how it was that you came to be shut up in the +curio shop." + +The boy's eyes grew less terrified, and he began to speak in a low, +mumbling voice. He began in the middle of the account, and Hartley +gently but firmly pushed him back to the beginning. + +"Start with the story of the lacquer bowl," he said, talking very slowly +and clearly. "We want to hear what happened about that first." + +The mention of the subject of lacquer threw Absalom once more into a +state of panic, but as his story progressed he became more sure of +himself, and looked up, forgetting his fear in the excitement of having +a really remarkable story to tell, that was listened to by Sahibs with +intent interest. + +In tearful, stumbling words he admitted that he and Leh Shin's assistant +had been friends, and that those evil communications that corrupt not +only good manners but good morals had worked with disastrous results +upon him. With his brown knuckles to his protruding eyes, he admitted, +further, that he had stolen the gold lacquer bowl from the drugged and +drunken seaman, and that Leh Shin's assistant had plundered him of more +than half his rightful share of the profit. What remained over, he +protested, he intended to give to the "Missen," testifying to the fact +that his conscience was causing him uneasiness and that his natural +superstition made him adopt means, not unknown to other financiers, of +squaring things by a donation to a charitable object. + +He went on to explain that Mhtoon Pah had required him to come back late +by an unfrequented alley, from where his master himself had admitted him +into the basement of the shop. There was nothing altogether unusual +about this, it appeared, as Mhtoon Pah was very strange in his ways at +times. He cooked his own food for fear of poison, and was constantly +suspecting some indefinite enemy of designs upon his life. What was +unusual was the fact that he had been taken at once into the small cell, +and that, once there, Mhtoon Pah had behaved like a madman. + +Absalom could recall no coherent account of what the curio dealer had +told him. He had spoken to him of murder, and told him that the Chinamen +in the Quarter, headed by Leh Shin, were looking for him to kill him, +and that, for his safety, he must remain hidden away. Mhtoon Pah told +him that he would protect him, and that he would produce evidence to +have Leh Shin hanged, and that once he was dead he would then emerge +again, but not until then. He told him how Chinamen killed their +victims, and his fears and terrors communicated themselves to the boy, +who delivered himself up to bondage without resistance. + +For weeks Absalom dragged out a miserable existence, loose when Mhtoon +Pah was in the shop, but chained to the wall whenever he went out, and +only for an hour after midnight was the boy ever allowed to emerge into +the dark, waste garden at the back of the house. The rest of the time +was spent in the cell, and Absalom broke into incoherent wailing as he +called Hartley and Coryndon to witness that it had been a hard life. + +As the end of his story approached, Absalom grew more dramatic and +quoted the parting words of Mhtoon Pah before he went out to attend the +_Pwe_ at the Pagoda. + +"I leave thee in fear," said he, "for thou art the apple of my eye, O +Absalom, and when I am gone some calamity may befall. From whence it +comes I know not, but as men look at the heaped clouds behind the hills +and say, 'Lo, it will soon fall in rain,' so does my heart look out and +observe darkness, and I am ill-satisfied to quit this house." + +His words rang in the mind of the boy, shut into the stifling darkness +below the ground, and he remembered that he cried out for help, not once +but over and over again, and that his cries were eventually answered by +the voice of Leh Shin, who had called him a child of vipers and +threatened to enter and break him against the wall as he would a +plantain. After that Absalom had refrained from crying out, and had +waited silently expecting the door to open and admit Leh Shin and his +last moment simultaneously. Upon the silence came the sounds of +scuffling and hoarse cries, and it seemed to Absalom that Leh Shin had +called out that he had already cut the heart from his ribs, and was +about to force it down Mhtoon Pah's throat, and then nothing was very +clear until voices and lights roused him from stupor to fresh terror and +alarm. + +He knew that the door had been unlocked and that a light travelled in, +held by a strange Burman, and that his terror of Leh Shin had made him +see things strangely, as though from a long way off; until, at the last, +the police had come and knocked the chain off his leg, and someone had +told him that his master was dead and had been found hanging in the +shop. + +Absalom's face quivered and he began to whimper. + +"And now my master is dead, and never in Mangadone shall I find such +another who will care for me and give me the pleasant life in Paradise +Street." + +Hartley handed the boy some money. + +"Take him away," he said to the Bearer. "You have told your story very +well, Absalom." + +He looked across at Coryndon when the room was empty, but Coryndon was +fiddling with some crumbs at the edge of the table. + +"Madness is the real explanation, I suppose," he said tentatively. +"Madness and obsession." + +"Obsession," echoed Coryndon. "That word explains almost every +inexplicable act in life." He took up a knife and held it level on his +palm. "There you have the normal condition, but once one end swings up +you get Genius and all the Arts, or madness and crime and the obsession +of one idea: one definite, over-mastering idea that drives every force +harnessed to its car." + +He got up and stretched his arms, and walked out through the veranda +into his room, where Shiraz was folding his clothes and laying them in +an open portmanteau. The old servant stood up and made a low salaam to +his master. + +"When the sun is down the wise traveller hurries to the Serai," Coryndon +said to him. "I leave to-night for Madras, Shiraz, and you with me." + +"The end of all things is just, Huzoor," replied the old man, a strange +light of reflection in his dim pebble-like eyes. "Is it not written that +none may rise so high, or plunge so deep, that he does not follow the +hidden path to the hidden end? For like a wind that goes and returns +never, or the shadow of a cloud passing over the desert, is the destiny +of a man." + + + + +GLOSSARY + + +_Almirah_ A press +_Babu_ A clerk +_Butti_ Lamp +_Charpoy_ Bed +_Chota haziri_ (Little breakfast) Early morning tea +_Dhobie_ Washerman +_Durwan_ Watchman +_Ghee_ Butter +_Gharry_ Cab +_Gaudama_ Buddha +_Htee_ Topmost pinnacle +_Hypongyi_ Priests +_Inshallah, Huzoor_ God give you fortune, Prince +_Joss_ A god +_Khitmutghar_ Footman +_Loongyi_ Petticoat +_Napi_ Rotten fish +_Nats_ Tree spirits +_Pani walla_ Water carrier +_Pwe_ Feast +_Serai_ Rest house +_Sirkar_ Government +_Syce_ Groom +_Tamasha_ A show +_Thakin_ Master +_Topi_ Hat + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Pointing Man, by Marjorie Douie + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POINTING MAN *** + +***** This file should be named 14049.txt or 14049.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/0/4/14049/ + +Produced by Steven desJardins and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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