As a rule, Rupert told his wife everything, thinking there could be no happiness, unless a married couple were frank with one another. Also, he frequently went to Olivia for advice, believing in the keen feminine instinct, which usually sees what is hidden from the denser masculine understanding. But on this occasion, he refrained from revealing the object of his visit to London, as he knew she would be feverishly anxious, all the time he was absent. It was just possible that Hwei might be at Rotherhithe instead of Tung-yu, and then Rupert might meet with a death similar to that of Miss Wharf. Certainly he had not the fan, and never did possess it; but how was he to convince a distrustful Asiatic of that.
Therefore, Rupert went to town one afternoon by the nine o'clock evening train from Marport, and Olivia thought, he was merely going to see his lawyer on business connected with Miss Pewsey's mortgage. Her husband was to return the next day in time for luncheon, and, as he had often run up to town before, Olivia had no misgivings. Had she been aware of the danger he was going into, she assuredly would not have let him go. Mrs. Ainsleigh had led an unhappy life, and now that things were brighter, she certainly did not wish to see her days clouded, by the loss of the husband whom she loved so dearly.
As what money there was, went to keep up Royabay, its master was too poor to travel first class. But he was lucky enough to find a third class smoking carriage empty, and sat down very content. Owing to the nature of his errand, he wished to be alone, to think out his mode of procedure. Tung-yu would not be an easy person to deal with, still less would Hwei, should he happen to be on the spot, and Ainsleigh had little knowledge of the Chinese character. From what Forge said, he judged it to be dangerous.
There were few people travelling by the train, and Rupert quite believed that he would have the compartment to himself. But just as the train was moving off, a man dashed into the carriage and dropped breathlessly on the seat. "I guess that was a narrow squeak," he gasped.
"Mr. Burgh," said Rupert, by no means pleased.
"Well, I am surprised," said the buccaneer, "if it ain't Ainsleigh."
"Mr. Ainsleigh," was Rupert's reply, for he disliked the man too much to tolerate this familiarity.
"Oh, shucks," retorted Burgh wiping his forehead, "'tisn't any use putting on frills with me, sir. I guess I'm as good a man as you, any day."
"Let us admit you are better," said Rupert coldly, "and cease conversation."
But this Mr. Burgh was not inclined to do. "I reckon this old tram won't stop at any station for half an hour," said he pulling out a long black cigar, "so I don't see why we should sit like dummies for thirty minutes. Come along, let's yarn. You think I'm a wrong un'. Well, I guess I'm no holy Bill if that's what you mean. But I surmise that I'm friendly enough with you, Ainsleigh."
"Our last interview was not of a friendly character."
"You bet. You laid me out proper, and gave it to me pretty free. I respect a man who knocks me down. I thought you'd curl up when faced, Ainsleigh, but I see you're a fighter. That being so, why I climb down. Not that I'm a coward--oh, no--not by a long chalk: but I know how to size up things."
"And how do you size them up in this case?"
"Well," said Clarence lighting up, "I guess you've got the bulge on me. I was sweet on your wife, but you aimed a bulls-eye, and I got left. That being so, I conclude to leave other man's goods alone."
"Meaning Mrs. Ainsleigh," said Rupert dryly, "thank you."
"Oh, no thanks. I've got enough sins already without putting a gilded roof on my iniquities. See here," Clarence leaned forward and looked agreeable, though his wicked black eyes snapped fire, "why shouldn't you and I be friends?"
Rupert did not reply at once. He did not like Burgh, who was an aggressive bully of the Far West. All the same, something might be learned from Burgh, relative to the murder, and to the Chinaman. He knew Hwei and knew something of the fan, so Rupert resolved to be on reasonably friendly terms with the buccaneer in the hope of learning something likely to be of use. If Mr. Burgh had a lantern, there was no reason why Ainsleigh should not use the light to illuminate his somewhat dark path. Therefore, when Rupert did speak, it was to express a wish to be friendly. Yet, strange to say, as soon as he showed a disposition to come forward, Clarence, the wary, showed an equal disposition to retire. "Ho," said the buccaneer, "I guess you want my help, or you wouldn't be so friendly all at once."
"I am friendly by your own desire," said Ainsleigh dryly, "if you like, we need not talk, but can part as enemies."
"No," said Burgh throwing himself indolently back on the cushions, "fact is, I need you and you need me."
"How do I need you?" asked Rupert sharply.
"Well," drawled Clarence, eying the clear-cut face of his late enemy, "it's just this way. Aunt Lavinia's an old cat. She was all square with me, so long as she thought I'd hitch up long-side Miss Rayner----"
"Mrs. Ainsleigh if you please, and leave out her name."
"Right oh. I'll use it only once. Aunty thought I'd annex the cash, and Mrs. Ainsleigh, and that she would live on the pair of us. But as things are Aunty has the cash and you've got the lady, so I am left--yes sir. I guess I've been bested by Aunty, Well sir, I calculate I'm not a millionaire, and I want cash to start out on the long trail. Aunty won't part, shabby old puss that she is; but I reckon if you'll help me, I'll rake in the dollars slick."
"Why should I help you?"
"To get square about that murder."
Rupert drew back, "Do you know?----"
"Oh I know nothing for certain, or I shouldn't take you into partnership, but I believe I can spot the person."
"Surely you don't think Miss Pewsey----"
"Oh no. She wouldn't harm anyone, unless she was on the right side. She's a cat, but is clever enough to keep herself from being lynched. 'Sides, she was comfortable enough with old Wharf, and wouldn't have sent her to camp out in the New Jerusalem, by strangling. But Aunty's going to hitch up long-side old Forge----"
"And he?" asked Rupert secretly excited, but looking calm enough.
"Go slow. I don't know anything for certain, but I guess Forge had a finger in the pie. He wanted the fan you know."
"Nonsense! He had the fan for two years and made no use of it."
"I reckon not. He didn't know its secret--and the secret's worth money I judge."
"Do you know the secret?"
"No. If I'd known I shouldn't have passed the article along to old Wharf. But I'm hunting for the secret, and when I find it out, I'll shake old Forge's life out for that fan."
"But Tung-yu has the fan?"
"Ho!" snorted the buccaneer, "and Tung-yu's gone to China with Hwei and the fan. Shucks! They gassed that at the inquest, but the poppy-cock don't go down along o' me. No Sir. I guess old Forge has the article. Now you sail in with me, and find out."
"How can I?"
"Well," said the buccaneer reflectively, "your father was a friend of the doctor's and he's chums with you. Just you get him to be confidential like, and then----"
"Forge is the last man to be confidential with anyone," said Rupert coldly, "and if this be your scheme I can't help you. There is not a shred of evidence to prove that Forge killed Miss Wharf."
"No. That's a frozen fact; but I guess I'm going to straighten out Forge to pay out Aunty. Then both will have to part with cash for my going on the long trail. I'm in the dark now, but later----"
An end was put to Mr. Burgh's chatter by the stoppage of the train at a station, and by the entrance of a joyful party of father, mother and three children. These last returning from a happy day in the country made themselves agreeable by crying. Clarence closed his mouth, and only bent forward to say one last word to Rupert, "I reckon we'll talk of this to-morrow when I get back to Marport," said he, "I'm putting up at the Bristol, and aunty's footing the bill."
Ainsleigh nodded and buried himself in his own thoughts. He did not see how Clarence could bring the crime home to Dr. Forge, but the buccaneer evidently had his suspicions. Rupert resolved to keep in with Burgh on the chance that something might come of the matter. He saw well enough that Clarence, in desperate want of money, would do all in his power to prove Forge guilty and would then blackmail him and Miss Pewsey, or, as she would then be, Mrs. Forge. This last design which Rupert suspected Burgh entertained, he resolved should not be put into practice: but if Forge was guilty, he would be arrested and tried. Therefore when Clarence parted with Ainsleigh at the Liverpool street station, the latter was moderately friendly.
"'Night," said the buccaneer wringing Ainsleigh's hand. "See you to-morrow at Marport. Keep it dark," and he winked and disappeared.
Ainsleigh moved towards the barrier to give up his ticket. As he did so he was roughly jostled, but could not see the person who thus banged against him. He left the station however, with the feeling that he was being followed, and kept looking back to see if, amongst the crowd, there was any special person at his heels. But he could see no one with his eyes on him. Yet the feeling continued even when he got into the underground train, which was to take him to Rotherhithe.
The young man had put on a shabby suit of blue serge for the adventure and,--as the night was rainy,--wore a heavy overcoat, the same in fact, which he had left in the cloak-room of the Bristol hotel on that memorable occasion. The compartment was filled with a rather rough set of workmen going home, and some were the worse for liquor. However Rupert sitting quietly in his own corner was not disturbed and arrived in Rotherhithe without trouble. He was thankful for this, as he did not wish to have a row when engaged on a secret errand.
It was dark and stormy when he stepped out into the street, but as the address given in the letter written to Major Tidman, was that of a narrow street close at hand--Rupert had looked it up in the Directory,--he did not take a cab. On his way along the streaming pavement he again had the sensation of being followed, and felt for the revolver, with which he had very wisely provided himself. But nothing happened, and he arrived at the mouth of the narrow street which was called Penters Alley. There were few people about, as the ragged loafers were within, not caring to face the pelting rain in their light attire. Rupert stepped cautiously down the side street, and saw in the distance a Chinese lantern, which he knew, marked the house he was to enter. This token had been set forth in the letter.
Just as the young man was half way down, a dark figure, which had crept up behind him, darted forward and aimed a blow at him. Rupert dodged and tried to close: but at that moment another figure dashed between the two men and delivered a right-hander. There was a stifled cry of rage and the clash of a knife on the wet pavement. Then the first assailant cleared off, and Rupert found himself facing his rescuer. "Just in time," said Clarence Burgh.
"What, you here," said Rupert surprised. "I left you at the station.
"I guess that's so, but I followed you--"
"And by what right--"
"That's square enough," replied Burgh, "you'd agreed to work along with me on this racket."
"Not altogether. I had not made up my mind."
"Well I guess you'll make it up now Mr. Ainsleigh. It was a good job I came after you as I did, or this would have been into your ribs," and he held up a long knife which he had picked up.
"I am much obliged," said Ainsleigh, "but--"
"Well if you're obliged, let me go along with you and see you through this game. I don't know what it is, but I'm on for larks."
Ainsleigh reflected, and on the impulse of the moment trusted the man. Clarence had undoubtedly saved his life, and it would be just as well to take him. Also Clarence could do no harm, as Tung-yu and Hwei would see to that. "Very good," said Ainsleigh, "come along. I'm going to where that Chinese lantern is."
Clarence gave a long whistle and smote his leg, "Gad," said he between his teeth, "you're on the Chinese racket again."
"Oh, behalf of Major Tidman," and Rupert rapidly gave details.
Burgh whistled again, "Ho," he laughed, "so they think Tidman's the strangler. Well I guess not. Forge for my money. Let's heave ahead Ainsleigh, and see what the Chinkeys have to say."
The two moved on and stopped under the lantern. A sharp knock at a closed door brought forth a Chinese boy, who was dressed--queerly enough--all in red. Rupert recalled Tidman's adventure at Canton, and did not like the look of things. But Clarence pushed past him and addressed the boy.
"We've come to see Tung-yu," said he, "give this brat the letter, Ainsleigh."
The boy took the letter and instead of looking at it by the light of the lantern, smelt it carefully. Then Ainsleigh remembered that it was strongly perfumed with some queer scent. Clarence cackled.
"Rummy coves these Chinese beasts," said he politely.
Evidently the boy was satisfied, for he threw open the door, and the two adventurers entered. They passed along a narrow corridor to a second door. On this being opened, they turned down a long passage to the right and were conducted by the red boy into a small room decorated in Chinese fashion, somewhat after the style of that in Dr. Forge's house. At the end there was a shrine with a hideous god set up therein, and before this, smoked some joss sticks giving out a strange perfume. A tasselled lantern hung from the ceiling. The chairs and table, elegant in design were of carved black wood, and the walls were hung with gaily pictured paper. The room was neat and clean, but pervaded by that strange atmosphere of the East which brings back curious memories to those who have travelled into those parts. After conducting them into this room, the red boy vanished and the men found themselves alone.
"Well I reckon we've got to make ourselves comfortable," said the buccaneer sitting, "rum shanty--just like an opium den I know of, down 'Frisco way. Ho! I wonder how Tung-yu's escaped the police?"
"I wonder rather who it was that tried to knife me," said Rupert sitting.
Clarence looked queer. "We'll talk of that when we get through with this business. Here's some fairy."
Even while he spoke a tall lean Chinaman entered noiselessly. He had a rather fierce face and one eye. Burgh started up.
"Hwei," said he amazed. "I thought you had lighted out for 'Frisco."
The one-eyed Chinaman did not smile, nor did he greet Burgh in any way, friendly or otherwise. He simply looked at the two, with an impassive gaze and then glanced at a clock, the hands of which pointed to thirty minutes past eleven. What a clock should be doing in this Eastern room, the visitors could not make out. It seemed to be out of place. Yet there it was, and there was Hwei staring at it. He still preserved silence and brought his one eye from the clock to Rupert with a malevolent glare.
"Major Tidman has not come," said Hwei in English, as good as that spoken by Tung-yu, but in a grating voice.
"No," said Rupert who was addressed. "He received your note,--or rather Tung-yu's letter,--and asked me to come here on his behalf."
"And I guess Hwei," drawled Clarence, "that I have come to see the business through."
"That will not take long," said the Chinaman cheerfully, yet with an unpleasant stare, "where is the fan of the Mandarin?"
"I have not got it," replied Ainsleigh shortly.
"Major Tidman did not send it perhaps."
"No. For the simple reason that it is not in his possession."
"That," said Hwei grimly, "is a lie,"
"It's the truth," chipped in Burgh suddenly, "old man Tidman didn't choke that woman!"
"You mean Miss Wharf."
Burgh nodded. "That's so," said he in a curt way, but with a watchful eye on the one-eyed Chinaman.
Hwei gnawed his long finger nails, and then slipped his hands inside his long hanging sleeves. In his dull blue clothes with the clumsy slippers, he looked taller than ever, and quite as unpleasant as at first sight. His pig-tail was coiled round his shaven head. He looked sharply at the two men with his one eye, and appeared to be thinking, "It's my day," said he at length.
Ainsleigh and Burgh jumped up. "Do you intend to murder us?" asked Rupert.
"If you have the fan," rejoined Hwei coldly, "it is the order of the god Kwang-ho," and he bowed reverentially to the ugly image.
"What right's that second hand joss to give orders in a free country, Hwei?" asked Clarence, "and don't you think, we'll give in without laying you out."
Hwei made a clicking noise with his tongue and then smote a small brass gong which hung near the door. The thunder had scarcely died away before the door opened and there appeared four or five villainous looking Chinamen with long knives. Rupert stepped back and stood against the wall, with his revolver levelled. But Clarence simply produced the knife, he had picked up on the pavement. "I guess," he said reflectively, "you tried to knife Ainsleigh outside. The knife here's the same as those things yonder," and he nodded towards the door. "Well, sail in. We're ready for the play."
Hwei started at this speech, and chattered something in Chinese. At once the door closed and the three were again alone. "I never ordered anyone to be knifed outside," he said, with his one eye on Clarence, "that would be foolish. First the fan, then the death."
"I was certainly attacked outside," said Rupert lowering his revolver.
"Who attacked you, sir?"
"I can't say. But perhaps Burgh--"
"That's my business," said the cheerful Clarence who had taken his seat, and did not seem to be at all afraid of the dangerous position in which he found himself, "what we have to do, is to yarn about this fan. I saw you in 'Frisco, Hwei. I reckoned the fan was there."
"We thought so, Mr. Burgh, but it came to the ears of Lo-Keong that it was in England. So then I came here."
"Ah, I saw you in China also," said Clarence.
"You did, and learned much about the fan--too much," growled Hwei.
Rupert who was growing weary of all this hinted mystery sat down again, and threw the revolver on the table. "I wish you would make a clean breast of this," he said calmly. "I don't care about the fan, but I do want to know who killed Miss Wharf."
"Major Tidman did."
"No. He was with me on the beach. I went out to smoke and we strolled up and down till nearly twelve. He was with me shortly after eleven, so he could not have killed the woman."
Hwei pointed a long finger at the young man. "I saw Major Tidman speaking to a boatman on the beach--the boat came from the Stormy Petrel--"
"Your boat," said Burgh quickly.
"No. The boat of Tung-yu. It was my day, but Tung-yu hoped to get the fan after twelve at night and then would have had the right to take it away in the boat. Major Tidman killed Miss Wharf and gave the knowledge of his crime to Tung-yu. He would not part with the fan till the money was paid. Tung-yu went away in the boat so that the police might not get him. He was wise," added Hwei with a queer smile, "as he is accused of the murder."
"Which you committed."
"No I did not. Had I found Miss Wharf outside I should have killed her. It was my hour, but she escaped me."
"Then you were in Marport on that night?" asked Rupert.
Hwei nodded. "Not at the hotel. Tung-yu went to the ball, and was to bring Miss Wharf out down the steps, so that I could kill her. I came to the steps about twelve, and while waiting on the beach I saw you sir, talking to the Major. But Tung-yu betrayed me." Hwei's face looked fiercer then ever. "He did not bring her to me in my hour, and so betrayed the trust of the god Kwang-ho. He wanted her to live, so that he might buy the fan next day."
"But so long as he got the fan--"
Hwei flung out a long arm. "No," said he austerely, "if Tung-yu gets the fan it goes with its secret into the hands of Mandarin Hop Sing, who is the enemy of my master."
"And who is your master?" asked Clarence.
"Lo-Keong. Listen." Hwei took a seat and talked, with his one eye on the visitors. "The fan is my master's, and holds a secret which means much to him. It was lost. We invoked the god Kwang-ho. By the mouth of his priest the gods said that two men should search for it. I was to search for Lo-Keong, and Tung-yu for Hop Sing the enemy of my master. Hop Sing's emissary was to buy the fan at a large price, I was to kill the person who held it. Thus, said the god, justice would be done. The person who held the fan would be rewarded for virtue or slain for evil. One day is mine and the next day is Tung-yu's. At the ball I had my hour, and had I found Miss Wharf I would have slain her for the fan. But Tung-yu betrayed me, as he wished to buy the fan next day. But the god Kwang-ho interfered, and the woman who held the fan wrongfully, met with her doom. Great is the justice of the god Kwang-ho," and he bowed again to the ugly image which was half veiled by the curling smoke.
Rupert stared at the man who talked such good English, yet who used it, to utter such extraordinary things. He was not acquainted with the Chinese character, and could not understand the affair. But on reflection he concluded that the alternate killing and rewarding was adopted as giving a chance of treating the person, who secured the fan in the way he or she deserved. "I see what you mean," said he, "if the person got the fan wrongfully, it would come into your possession in your way, if rightfully, it would go to Tung-yu, therefore the holder of the fan would be rewarded according to his or her deeds."
Hwei bowed. "Great is the wisdom of the god Kwang-ho," said he.
"Then I guess you're wrong and the god also," said Clarence, "old Miss Wharf got the fan squarely enough from me."
"She had it wrongfully," said Hwei obstinately "else she would not have been slain."
"Who slew her?" asked Rupert seeing the uselessness of argument.
"Major Tidman."
"No. I tell you he was on the beach. Tung-yu killed her."
Hwei shook his head, "Tung-yu dare not," said he, "the god would slay him if he disobeyed."
"The god didn't slay him when he played low down on you in keeping Miss Wharf back from your knife," said Clarence.
"Tung-yu has done penance. He has made amends. He wrote to Major Tidman telling him to come here on my night, so that he might meet with his doom."
"But he hasn't come."
"He is afraid."
"No," said Rupert decisively, "the Major has not the fan. Who has, I know no more than I do who killed Miss Wharf."
Hwei wavered, and his keen face grew troubled. The persistence of Rupert was having its effect. "Are you sure?"
"Quite sure," said Ainsleigh promptly.
"Will you swear this before the god Kwang-ho."
"Certainly--but remember I am a Christian."
Hwei went to the shrine and brought forth a joss stick. "The god Kwang-ho is all powerful," said he solemnly, "if you lie, he will not spare you. Burn this joss before him and swear."
"No," said Rupert drawing back. "I am a Christian."
Hwei's eye flashed with fury. "You are lying," said he, "you will never leave this place alive."
"Oh I guess so," said Clarence easily, "neither I nor Ainsleigh has the fan, and you can't kill either of us unless the god grows angry. You've got to climb down before him."
"That is true," said Hwei dropping the joss-stick, and sat in his chair with a puzzled face. He then pointed to the clock, the long hand of which was drawing to twelve. "When that strikes, my hour is over," he said, "but I may kill you before then."
"You've got ten minutes to do it in," said Burgh cheerfully, "and Ainsleigh and I intend to fight for it. You'll be hanged too."
"No," said Hwei. "I'll be on my way to China with the fan. I have a boat waiting near, to take me to a special steamer. I intended to kill Major Tidman, take the fan and go. Then all the police in the country would not have caught me."
"And your nice little plan has been defeated by the Major not coming up," said Rupert calmly, "just as well he didn't. And I have not got the fan."
"Who has--who has," said Hwei biting his nails, and evidently quite at a loss. "I made sure--" he looked at Clarence.
"Oh it wasn't me," said that gentleman promptly, "but I may know who killed the old woman and has the fan."
Hwei flung himself forward. "Tell--tell--tell," he grasped, and he laid his long fingers on Burgh's throat. The young man threw him over with a great effort and slipped back to the wall, where he stood beside Rupert. The two had out their revolvers. "You wait," said Clarence in a breathless voice, for the struggle though brief had been violent, "tell me the secret of the fan, and I'll give you the name of the person who has it."
"What," cried Hwei furiously, "betray my master, you foreign devil. I will kill you first."
"You've just got five minutes to do it in," cried Burgh jeeringly.
The Chinaman put his fingers to his lips and blew a shrill whistle. In a moment the room was filled with Chinamen, chattering and screaming like so many infuriated parrots. Hwei threw himself on the young men. "Die--Die--" he said thickly.
"Fire--fire," cried Clarence, kicking Hwei back.
For the next few minutes Rupert had no very clear idea of what was happening. He fired into the mass of Chinamen pushing forward, and heard a cry as a man dropped. The others fell over him, and in the struggle upset the shrine. The ugly joss rolled on to the floor and caught fire. There were shrill screams from the Chinese, who began to jab with their knives. Clarence was rolling on the floor in close grips with Hwei, and the draperies of the joss flared away in a brilliant manner. It seemed as though the two rash men would be either burnt or stabbed, and the end was coming rapidly.
All at once the silvery chime of the clock sounded and then came the rapid striking of the hour. The door opened and the boy in red, appeared. He said something in a screaming voice, and then, almost as by magic, the room emptied. The rolling mass of Chinamen had extinguished the flaming joss, and Hwei, suddenly disengaging himself from the buccaneer, darted through the door. The boy followed with the rest of the assailants, and when Rupert and Burgh got their breath they found themselves facing the still smoking joss, with Tung-yu blandly smiling at them.
"Ho," said Clarence rising and shaking himself. "I guess the row's over. Hurt Ainsleigh?"
"Got a flesh wound," said Rupert, winding his handkerchief round his left arm, "and you?"
"I'm as right as a pie. So here's Tung-yu. Your hour I guess."
The Chinaman bowed, and picking up the god restored him to his shrine, which was considerably damaged. "It is lucky the red boy cried that Hwei's hour was over," he said coolly, "or you would both have been killed."
"You wouldn't have got the fan though," said Rupert throwing himself down on his seat, "but you don't intend to kill us I suppose."
"No. The god Kwang-ho is merciful now. I make you rich."
"Humph," said Burgh crossly, "I wish I had that fan with me."
"You have, or Mr. Ainsleigh here, has it," said Tung-yu, "I will give you five thousand for the fan."
"I haven't got it."
"Think--ten thousand."
"Great Scot!" cried Clarence avariciously, "wish I could trade."
"Fifteen thousand," said Tung-yu his eyes glittering, "come gentlemen it's better to be rich than dead. For the next twenty-four hours I can give you money. Then comes Hewi's hour and he will kill you."
"Not much," said Burgh, "I'm going to cut."
"You shall be kept here, till you give up the fan."
Rupert shrugged his shoulders. "You won't believe," he said, "why not search us. Then you can see we have not the fan. Do you believe that Major Tidman has it?"
"Yes. He gave it to you. He killed--"
"He did not. Can you swear that he did?"
"No. But I thought--"
"Oh shucks," said Clarence shoving himself forward, "see here Mr. Tung-yu. I'm sick of this business. We haven't got that durned fan. But I can tell you who has."
"Tell then and I give you a thousand pounds."
"Not good enough," said Burgh coolly, "see here, you let us go free and tell us the fan's secret, and I'll tell you."
"Yes, and get the fan, and learn the secret," cried Tung-yu excited, "but you cannot make use of the secret."
"Don't want to. And as to the fan, you can get it from the person I tell you of. Then you can fork out fifteen thousand."
The Chinaman deliberated. "We have been wrong about Major Tidman, I think," said he politely. "It seems someone else has it. I suppose----"
"I didn't kill the old girl myself if that's what you mean."
"Quite so," said Tung-yu, after another pause. "Well, as you can't make any use of the secret I'll tell you of it. Then you can go free, after you have told me who killed Miss Wharf."
"Eight oh," said Clarence, and Rupert listened breathlessly.
"The fan," said Tung-yu, "is jade on one side, and enamel on the other. The enamelled side is painted with a picture invisibly. To bring out the picture, this fan has to be waved in certain smoke--"
"What sort of smoke?"
"I won't tell you that," said Tung-yu politely, "I have told enough."
"Well, then," said Rupert, "when the picture is visible what happens?"
"It will show a hiding place which contains certain things we want to get, in order to ruin Lo-Keong with the Empress."
"Oh, I see, a plan of a secret hiding-place."
"Now you know," said Tung-yu to Clarence, "tell me----"
"Not till I know of the smoke."
"I refuse. But I give you fifteen thousand to get that fan. One thousand now if you tell me who killed the woman and who has it."
"Good," said Clarence, "I'll trade. Dr. Forge strangled Miss Wharf."
"Ah," said Tung-yu leaping up, "he has the fan. Thanks Kwang-ho," and he bowed to the half-destroyed image.
When Rupert returned to Marport next day, Burgh accompanied him. The young squire of Royabay wished to give information to the police regarding the guilt of Forge. But Clarence persuaded him against doing so. "You'll only get me into a row," said he, in his candid way. "You see I told a lie."
"You tell so many lies," said Rupert sharply, "I don't know but what I ought to give you in charge."
"I guess not, seeing I saved your life last night."
"No. You're right there Burgh. But have you really anything to do with this murder?"
"No, 'cept as how I told old Tung-yu last night."
"Just repeat what you said. I was so faint with the loss of blood that I didn't gather half you said."
Burgh nodded. "You were pretty sick. I'd to help you back to civilization, same as if you were drunk. If I hadn't, you'd have been robbed and killed down that Bowery gangway."
Ainsleigh could not, but acknowledge that Clarence had acted very well. He had saved him from the man who attacked him in the street, and also, it was owing to him that the two had escaped from the gang of Hwei. Finally Burgh had taken Rupert back to the Guelph Hotel in Jermyn Street, when he was rather shaky from the wound. It was much better this morning, but Ainsleigh looked pale, and not at all himself. Still he did not grudge the trifling wound--it was merely a scratch although it had bled freely,--as the knowledge he had acquired, was well worth the trouble. They had left the den in Penters Alley, some time after midnight, and had returned safely to the West, where Rupert had acted as host to Burgh. That was Clarence all over. Whenever he did anyone a service, he always took it out of him in some way, and but, for the dangerous position in which he found himself would have quartered his carcase on Rupert for an indefinite period.
"But there ain't no denying that I'm in a fix," said Burgh, as the train drew near Marport. "That is, if you split Ainsleigh."
"No, I won't split on you. But if Forge is guilty he must be arrested," said Rupert decisively.
"But I don't know if he strangled the old girl after all."
"You said he did, last night."
"Well I wanted to know the secret of that fan."
Rupert shrugged his shoulders. "You know that the fan when waved in a certain smoke--of which by the way you learned nothing--reveals a hiding place which contains certain things Tung-yu wants--"
"To ruin Lo-Keong," said Burgh quickly. "So I guess if I can pick up that fan from old Forge, I'll yank in the dollars."
"Aren't you satisfied with what you have."
"This thousand. Oh that's all right. I cashed the cheque before I joined you at the station--got it in gold so I can clear out when it suits me. It's always as well to be ready to git."
"I suppose," said Ainsleigh dryly, "in your varied career, you have had frequent occasions to 'git' as you call it."
"You bet. But git's slang American and good Turkish lingo, so you've no need to sneer old man. 'Say, about Forge. What's to be done?"
"I'll communicate with Rodgers and tell him what you say. If the doctor is guilty he must suffer."
"My eye," said Clarence reflectively, "won't aunty be mad. Well I guess this will square us: she won't play low down on me again."
"Burgh, you're a blackguard."
"I am, that's a fact," said the buccaneer in no wise disturbed. "But don't you say that in public or the fur'll fly."
"Pooh. You know I'm equal to you. But this story--"
"The one I told Tung-yu last night," grinned Burgh, "I'll reel it out now, and you can sort it out as you choose. I believe Forge to be the scragger of the old girl, because he had that tie of yours."
"How did he get the tie?"
"I gave it to him," confessed Clarence candidly.
"Yes--I remember you said so last night. But I forget how you explained the getting of it."
"Huh," drawled Burgh folding his arms. "You might call it stealing old pard. Y'see Miss Pewsey--my old aunty that is--saw Olivia--"
"Mrs. Ainsleigh, hang you."
"Right oh," continued Burgh imperturbably. "Well, aunty saw Mrs. Ainsleigh pass the tie to you, and when you went to the cloak-room she told me. I was real mad not knowing how things were, as I wanted that tie for myself. I'd no notion of your getting things made by the young lady I was sweet on.
"I wish you would leave out my wife's name," said Rupert angrily, and wincing with pain, for his wound hurt him not a little.
"I'll try: don't get your hair off. Well I cut along to the card room--no t'wasn't the card room--the cloak-room, and saw you standing by your coat, just hanging it up again."
"And you saw me put the tie in the pocket."
"I guess not: but I fancied you might have done so. Then I waited outside while you yarned with the Chinese cove and Tidman. After that I cut in and you know the rest."
"Up to the time I knocked you down. Well?"
"Smashing blow," said Burgh coolly, "you can use your hands pretty well I reckon--but a six shooter's more in my line. Well, when you cut, I lay down and saw stars for a time. Then I thought I'd pay you out by annexing the tie."
"You didn't know it was there?"
"Thought it might be," rejoined Burgh coolly, "anyhow there was no harm in trying. I found the tie, and went out with it, thinking you be pretty sick when you found it gone. I went into the card-room where old Forge was cheating I guess, and had a yarn along o'him. He just roared when I showed him the tie, for he hates you like pie."
"What's that?" asked Rupert sharply, "you are mistaken."
"I guess not. That old man would have been glad to see you scragged, Mr. Ainsleigh. He asked me to let him have the tie--"
"What for?"
Burgh shrugged his shoulders. "He didn't say. But I let him have it anyhow. I wasn't in a position to refuse. Y'see Ainsleigh I'm not a holy Bill and--"
"And Forge knows a few of your escapades likely to land you in--"
"Y'needn't say the word," interrupted Burgh in his turn, "t'isn't a pretty one. But I guess Forge could make things hot for me if he liked, so that was why I lay low when I saw the tie round the old girl's throat. I guessed then. Forge had scragged her and boned the fan. I asked him about it, and he lied like billeo. Said he'd lost the tie, and never touched the old 'un. Then he said if I made any fuss, he'd tell the police about--"
"About what?" asked Ainsleigh, seeing the man hesitate.
"Huh," replied Burgh, uncomfortably, "I guess that's my business. I told you I wasn't a saint."
"I suspect you're a thorough paced gaol-bird."
"No, I ain't been in quod. Where I gavorted round, in the Naked Lands, they don't shove a man in chokey for every trifle."
"Such as murder. Eh?"
"I haven't murdered anyone yet," confessed Clarence, easily, "but one never knows. But I told about Forge last night, as I wanted to get this thousand. Now I'll try for the fan, and see if I can't get the fifteen thousand to come my way. If Forge cuts up rough, I'll light out with what I have"--he slapped his pockets--"for Callao," and he began to sing the old song:--
"On no occasion, is extradition,Allowed in Callao."
"On no occasion, is extradition,
Allowed in Callao."
"And I know a daisy of a girl out there," said the scamp, winking.
Ainsleigh was too disgusted to speak. He felt that as he was as big a ruffian as Burgh, to tolerate this conversation, and he was relieved when the train steamed into Marport station. As soon as it stopped he jumped out, and nodding to his companion, he was about to take his leave, when Clarence stopped him. "Say. You won't round on Forge till I get this fan business settled."
"I intend to write to Rodgers to-day," said Ainsleigh, tartly, "bad as your aunt is, she shan't marry that scoundrel if I can help it."
"But I only know Forge got the scarf as I told you. He mightn't have scragged her y'know. He says he didn't."
"And relied on what he knows of you to keep things quiet. No, Mr. Burgh, I intend to have the man arrested," and Rupert turned away, while Clarence, apparently not at all disturbed, went away whistling his Callao ditty.
Rupert drove to Royabay and was welcomed with joy by his wife. She was much alarmed when she saw his condition, and was very angry when he told of his danger. She made him lie down, and bathed the wound, of which Rupert made light. "It's nothing, dear," he said.
"It might be dangerous. There might have been poison on that knife, Rupert. You know what the Chinese are."
"No, Olivia, I certainly don't. All this business of the fan and the god Kwang-ho is most ridiculous."
"Tell me all about it," said Olivia, when she had placed a tray, with tea and toast, before him.
"I shall do so at once, as I want your advice," and Rupert related all that had occurred from the time of his meeting with Clarence Burgh in the train on the previous night. Olivia listened in silence. "Well," asked Rupert, drinking his tea, "what do you think?"
"I think Mr. Burgh is a scoundrel."
"Anyone can see that!"
"And worthy of his aunt."
"Perhaps. She's a bad one that Miss Pewsey, but she may not know what a rascal she has for a relative. And at all events, I can't let her marry Forge. Do you believe he is guilty?"
"He might be," said Olivia cautiously, "but I would much rather believe that Burgh gave the tie to his aunt and that she strangled aunt Sophia."
Rupert laughed. "What a vindictive person you are dearest," said he. "Miss Pewsey is bad but not so bad as that."
"I'd credit her with anything," said Olivia, who was truly feminine in her detestation of Miss Pewsey. "She has insulted me for years, and put aunt Sophia against me, and caused me to lose the money."
"Well--well," said Rupert soothingly, "let us think the best of her--she has her good points.
"Where are they--what are they? She is a--no," Olivia checked herself and looked penitent, "I really must not give way to such unworthy feelings. I'll try and think the best of her, and I agree with you darling, that she must not marry Dr. Forge."
"Do you think I should write to Rodgers?"
"Certainly. The marriage must be stopped. Write to-day."
But Rupert did not write that day, for the simple reason that the wound on his arm grew very painful, and he became delirious. The doctor who was called in, said that there was poison in the blood and then Olivia was alarmed lest Rupert should lose his arm, and perhaps his life. However, the doctor was young and clever and by careful treatment he drew out the poison and in a few days, the young man's arm had resumed its normal condition, and his brain again became clear. Then he wrote a letter to Rodgers asking him to come down to Royabay on a matter connected with the murder of his wife's aunt. After the letter had been posted, Rupert went out for a walk with his wife, and strolled round the grounds. As the two crossed the lawn admiring the beauty of the day which was bright and clear and slightly frosty, Mrs. Petley appeared, coming up the avenue. She made straight for the young couple.
"Please Master Rupert, that gent's called again."
"What, Mr. Burgh?" said Olivia, and then in answer to her husband's enquiring look she explained. "He has called for the last three days, dear, since you were ill. I never told you, as I thought it might worry you."
"And he just called to ask how you were. Master Rupert," said the old housekeeper, "and never come nearer than the lodge, as old Payne can testify. I told him you were out walking and he asked if he could come in and see you."
"Certainly," said Rupert--then, when Mrs. Petley hurried away, he turned to Olivia. "Burgh simply wants to find out if I have communicated with Rodgers. He's frightened for his own skin."
Shortly Mrs. Petley returned with the information that Mr. Burgh was nowhere to be seen. This did not trouble Rupert who thought that the buccaneer (always of an impatient disposition) might have grown tired of waiting. With Olivia, he strolled round the grounds for thirty minutes and at length entered the ruins of the Abbey. Here the first thing they saw, was Mr. Clarence Burgh seated on a stone under the copper beech. He jumped up and came forward, with his usual grace and invariable impudence.
"Glad to see you out again, Ainsleigh," said he taking off his hat, "and you look well, Mrs. Ainsleigh--just like a picture."
"Thank you," replied Olivia, concealing her dislike with difficulty, "you wish to see my husband I presume."
"Just for two shakes," said Clarence easily, "say old man, what about Forge. Are y' going to' round on him?"
Rupert nodded, "I have written to Rodgers to-day. But I'll give him this chance of escape--warn him if you like."
"Not me," said Burgh coldly, "every man for his own durned skin--begging your pardon Mrs. Ainsleigh. I saw him while you were trying for Kingdom Come, and told him that he'd the fan."
"What did he say?"
"Gave me the lie. Swore he'd been in the card-room between eleven and twelve, and never saw the old girl. Said he'd had enough of the fan, as it had nearly caused his death. Then he said he'd split on me if I gave him away."
"But you told him, you did confess to the Chinaman."
"Oh that's all right. Forge don't care a red cent for their telling the police. They won't engineer the biznai into the courts. So long as they get the fan, they don't mind. Forge knows they won't make the matter public, but now he's in mortal fear, lest they should kill him."
"Thinking he's got the fan."
"You bet--on my evidence. Well," said Burgh calmly and with a twinkle in his evil eyes. "I reckon old man Forge is in an almighty fix. He's in danger of being knifed by Hwei--thanks to me, and of being hanged for killing the old girl--thanks to you."
Olivia's face expressed her disgust. "If you have heard all you wish to hear, we'll go away," she said to her husband.
"Right oh," said Burgh. "Don't mind me. Pretty place y'have here," he added looking round the beautiful cloisters, "that's the place where they lynched the old monk I reckon. I've heard that silly rhyme of yours, Ainsleigh. I guess you've fulfilled one part."
"How so?" asked Rupert stiffly.
"About the marriage y'know. A poor Ainsleigh has wedded a poor wife. So that's all right. Now I--"
"I must be going," interrupted Ainsleigh annoyed by the man's glib talk, "have you anything else to say?"
"Only this. Forge is going to hitch long-side Aunt Lavinia to-morrow, and if you run him in, she'll get left."
"All the better for her," said Ainsleigh calmly, "he's a bad lot."
"That's so. Much worse than you think. He was the man who tried to stab you in Penter's Alley."
"No."
"He was though. I saw his face under the lamp, as he let fly. Then he cut and--you know the rest. But I'm off. My eye," Clarence chuckled, "what a shine there'll be to-morrow, when Aunty gets left."
Burgh strolled away whistling, and Olivia expressed her disgust at his free and easy manners. Rupert, reflecting on what Clarence had told him of Forge's assault, resolved to be a fair and open enemy. He decided to call on Forge and tell him that he had written to Rodgers. Also, he desired to ask why he attempted the second crime. Olivia approved, so Rupert went early next day to Tidman's Avenue. The door was opened by Mrs. Bressy who was wiping her mouth as though she had just been at the bottle, which was probably the case. In reply to Rupert's enquiry for her master, she told him that Dr. Forge had gone. "He went to Londing, sir--larst night," said Mrs. Bressy.
"Did he leave any address?"
"No, Mr. Ainsleigh, he did not."
The inference was easy. Forge had bolted.