Rupert was much disappointed that Forge had not been arrested. Apart from the fact that he thought the old scoundrel should suffer for his dastardly crime in killing an inoffensive woman, he wished to learn what Forge could reveal of his father's death. The explanation already given, did not satisfy him, and he suspected that the doctor knew more than he chose to admit. But under pressure, and standing in danger of his life, he might be induced to be more explicit. But, as the man, apparently warned by Clarence, had disappeared, there was no more to be said. And Forge had taken a large trunk, and all his loose cash, so there was no doubt that he intended to keep away from Marport.
Ainsleigh, much disgusted, went to seek Clarence Burgh at the Bristol Hotel, but learned, that he also, had gone away. Much perplexed the young man sought out Major Tidman, and laid the case before him. The Major was much astonished at the recital, and very angry to learn that Hwei and Tung-yu suspected him of the murder. "But I guessed they did, from the fact of that letter asking after the fan," said Tidman, pacing his room, much agitated. "I hope Ainsleigh, they don't think I have it now, or my life will not be worth a moment's purchase."
"No. You needn't worry. Burgh has fully convinced them, that Forge has the fan."
"Then they'll make for him."
"No doubt, and perhaps that is why Forge cleared out. But I don't understand why our friend Burgh should make himself scarce."
"I do," said Tidman sitting down and wiping his bald forehead, "he isn't a man with a clean past, and Forge knows about it. It's just on the cards that, to revenge himself on Burgh for having told Hwei about the fan. Forge has written to the police giving an account of Master Clarence's delinquency."
"But, on the other hand, if Burgh warned Forge that I had written to Rodgers, the doctor might forgive him."
"Not he. Forge is a bitter hater, and after all, Clarence would only be trying to right, what he had put wrong. If he'd held his tongue about the fan and the murder, there would be no need for Forge to cut. As it is, I believe the doctor will make it hot for our mutual friend."
"When did you see Burgh last?"
"At dinner last night. He said nothing about going away, and I quite believed he would stop on. He's in good quarters here and Miss Pewsey is paying the bill. But he took a small bag with him, saying he was going up town for a few days, and left by the nine evening train."
"Ah! He may come back after all."
"He may: but I doubt it. He doesn't want to face an inquiry. You see he gave the tie to Forge and said nothing about it at the inquest, so that makes him an accessory after the fact."
"But Burgh didn't know Forge's game."
"No. All the same he should have spoken out at the inquest. Well, and what is to be done now?"
"Nothing. I'm sick of the whole business. But Forge told me that this Mandarin, Lo-Keong, holds eight thousand pounds belonging to my father. I intend to write for it."
Tidman looked doubtful. "I don't think you'll get it," said he, "unless you produce the fan."
"Oh! I expect Forge has taken that away with him."
"Well then, Tung-yu and Hwei will be on his track, and I shouldn't give much for his life."
"Wait a bit. He may get the money from Tung-yu."
"If he chances on Tung-yu's day. Queer start that," added the Major musingly, "the red boy appeared when I just had my big toe cut off and saved my life. It happened, much the same with you, and Hwei lost his power, as he was getting ready to kill you. I wonder these two scoundrels obey the god so slavishly."
"Oh, they are both afraid of the god," said Rupert, rising to take his leave, "but I must get home. There's nothing more to be discussed."
"Nothing," replied the Major chuckling, "unless it is about that old cat's disappointment. I'll go up to St. Peter's church and see how she takes it."
"Of course," said Ainsleigh lingering at the door, "it's her wedding day. I expect she knows by this time, that Forge has cut.
"I hope not," said the Major cruelly. "I wouldn't lose the fun for something."
Rupert didn't agree with his callous view of the case, as Miss Pewsey was a woman after all, although a bad one; and it would be hard that she should suffer, what she would certainly regard as a public disgrace. So Rupert avoided St. Peter's Church, and went home again. Here he found Olivia with a letter.
"This arrived by the early post," she explained, "but you went out so quickly, that I could not give it to you. Just look at it Rupert, such beautiful writing."
"A foreigner's evidently," said her husband, looking at the really elegant calligraphy. "They take more care than we do of their pot-hook and hangers. Olivia." He started.
"What's the matter?"
Rupert put the envelope under her nose. "Smell it. Don't you recognise the scent."
"No," said Mrs. Ainsleigh, "it's a strange scent."
"Very, and was used to perfume the letter which Tung-yu sent to Major Tidman. This may have to do with the fan again."
Olivia looked nervous. "I wish we could hear the last of it," she said. "It has caused enough trouble already. Open the letter, dear."
Rupert did so and was more astonished than ever. "Here's an unexpected development," he remarked, passing the letter to Olivia, "Lo-Keong is in England."
Mrs. Ainsleigh read the few lines which stated that the mandarin was stopping at a fashionable hotel in Northumberland Avenue, and would do himself the honour of calling on the son of his old friend in a few days. "He's come to see after the fan personally," said Olivia returning the letter. "I am glad."
"So am I," said Rupert quickly. "I'll now learn the truth about my father, and see if I can't get that eight thousand pounds."
"Rupert, do you think Lo-Keong killed your father?"
"I can't say. Forge declared over and over again, that he died of dysentery, and that Lo-Keong seized the money for the Boxers. But I'll demand an explanation from the Mandarin."
"Will he give it?" asked Mrs. Ainsleigh doubtfully.
"He'll have to," replied Rupert grimly, "and he'll have to give the money back also. I don't care for Forge's cash, as a villain such as he is, doesn't deserve any reward. But I want my own eight thousand, and I'll have it."
"I hope so," sighed Olivia, "we could then pay off Miss Pewsey, or rather Mrs. Forge, as she no doubt is by this time."
"No. Forge has bolted."
"What, on the eve of the wedding?"
"Yes. He cleared out last night. Either he fears being arrested for the murder of your aunt, or he dreads lest Hwei should come down to kill him for the sake of the fan. At all events he has gone, and Miss Pewsey is no doubt waiting at the altar of St. Peter's Church, for a bridegroom who will never come. But we must attend to our own troubles, dear. I'll write to the Mandarin to-day and ask him to visit us when it suits him. Or else I can run up----"
"No," interrupted Olivia in a voice of alarm. "I won't have you go away again, until this fan business is settled. I'm always afraid of your falling into the hands of these Chinamen. I shall ask Mr. Lo-Keong, to stop them searching for the fan."
"He can stop Hwei," said Rupert rising, "but Tung-yu is in the employment of Hop Sing, the Mandarin's rival. Don't be afraid, my dearest, I have been protected by Providence these many days, and it is not likely that I'll come to grief. But I fear for Forge and for Burgh, who has likewise bolted. Those two will certainly get into trouble."
"It is wrong to say so," said Mrs. Ainsleigh with a sigh, "but Idodislike that man Burgh, and Dr. Forge also."
"Leave them in God's hands, dear," replied her husband gravely, "if they have sinned, they will be punished. What we have to do, is to learn if Lo-Keong will restore this money. I'll write, asking him to come down to Royabay," and Rupert went to the library forthwith.
It was an autumnal day with a promise of rain. Ragged clouds drifted across a cold blue sky, and the wind was rather high. Already many trees had shed their leaves, but the pine boughs still bore their sombre burdens. Everything looked old and miserable, and there seemed to lurk a premonition of evil in the air. At least, Olivia thought so, as she stood at the drawing-room window, looking out on to the terrace and down the avenue, which could be seen from this point of view. Rupert was in the library engaged on his letter to the Mandarin, and Olivia was half inclined to join him. She felt weary, chilly and out of spirits, and could not account for doing so.
"I'm the happiest girl in the world," she assured herself, "I have married the man I love, and he adores me. He rescued me from a miserable life, and is making me immensely happy. I should certainly be in the best of spirits, yet----"
She stopped short at this point and her eyes became fixed, while a colour flushed her somewhat pale cheeks. And no wonder. Up the avenue, battling against the force of the wind, came Miss Pewsey. She wore a bridal dress of white, a lace bonnet trimmed with orange blossoms, and carried a bouquet of flowers. To see this figure in such a dress walking under a sombre sky, between dripping trees, and with the winds blowing furiously against it, was a strange sight, and gave Olivia what the Scotch call "a grue." Then she became indignant. It was insolent, she thought, that this woman who had insulted her so often, who had made her life miserable, who had robbed her of her inheritance and who had tried to defame her character, should thus present herself. On the impulse of the moment and in spite of wind, and of the rain, which was beginning to fall, Mrs. Ainsleigh threw open the French window and stepped out on to the terrace. It was in her mind, to order Miss Pewsey away. She deserved little mercy at Olivia's hands.
The noise made by the opening of the window made Miss Pewsey raise her head, and then she came straight across the grass. As she drew near, Olivia was struck with the tragic horror of her face. She was always old in her looks, but now she seemed at least a hundred. Her lips were white, her eyes red and with dark circles under them; a myriad wrinkles ploughed her face, and her usually bright eyes were dim and blood-shot. To see this weird face under the bridal bonnet was at once grotesque and pathetic. Without a word, Miss Pewsey climbed the steps gasping at every step, and came directly towards Olivia. She passed her and entered the room. Mrs. Ainsleigh came after in a whirlwind of passion.
"What do you mean?" she demanded, "this ismyhouse."
"I am aware of the fact," said Miss Pewsey dropping into a chair and shaking out her soiled and sodden bridal dress, "but it may be mine before the end of the year. But don't let us quarrel," she went on in a piteous way, "I'm in trouble."
"What is it?" asked Olivia, who could guess.
"Theophilus has left me. Yes! Last night he went away leaving a cold letter behind him which was to be delivered to me at the altar. And it was," wept Miss Pewsey, "that old woman Mrs. Bressy brought the note. It said that Theophilus has left me for ever. And all my friends were there, and I was awaiting the happy hour, then--then"--she broke down sobbing.
Olivia was touched. Miss Pewsey had always been her enemy, yet there was something about the unhappy creature which called for sympathy.
"I am sorry for your trouble," said Mrs. Ainsleigh, in a softer voice.
"No," said Miss Pewsey drying her eyes with a very wet handkerchief, "you can't be, I never liked you, nor you me."
"That is perfectly true, and you turned my aunt against me. All the same Iamsorry, and anything I can do shall be done."
Miss Pewsey threw herself on her knees before her enemy, who was thus heaping coals of fire on her head. "Then ask your husband to leave my Theophilus alone," she whispered. "Clarence, who has also gone, wrote to me, and said that Mr. Ainsleigh accused Theophilus of the death of my dearest Sophia."
"What," cried Olivia, "does Mr. Burgh dare. Why he accuses Dr. Forge, himself. Rupert certainly wrote to the detective Mr. Rodgers, but Mr. Burgh has to substantiate his statement."
Miss Pewsey jumped up. "What," she said, much more her own evil self, "did Clarence accuse my Theophilus? It's a lie--a lie. I have kept silence too long--much too long."
"About what?"
"About the murder," screamed Miss Pewsey, "it was Clarence who killed my Sophia--yes--you may look and look Olivia--but it was Clarence himself. He took the tie from the coat-pocket. I told him, you had given it to him, and--"
"But he gave it to Dr. Forge."
"He did not. Clarence took Sophia out on to the steps--at least he appointed to meet her there, to tell her about the fan. Then he strangled her, thinking your husband would be accused. Theophilus came on Clarence when he was picking up the fan. Sophia held it in her death grip, and it was some time before he could get it loose. Theophilus came, and hearing steps, Clarence ran away down to the beach. Then he returned to the ball-room by the front of the hotel."
"But the fan?"
"Theophilus Forge has it," said Miss Pewsey, setting her face, "and I expect he has taken it with him."
"Why didn't you tell this at the inquest."
"Because I didn't. Clarence is my own sister's son. I could not see him hanged. He had to hold his tongue, although he wanted the fan back again. But I insisted that Theophilus should make the money out of it. This is Clarence's revenge. Because the fan is kept from him he threatens Theophilus; oh Olivia,doask your husband to leave the matter alone, I will give up that mortgage--"
"I can do nothing," said Olivia, "it isn't in my husband's power. He has written to Rodgers--"
"But he has not told him anything," said Miss Pewsey eagerly.
"No. He merely asked him to call."
"Then he shall seeme, and I'll tell him of Clarence's wickedness. But the fan--the fan--we'll get the money and Theophilus will come back to be loved and respected. I don't love him, but I see we can make a lot of money together. The fan," said Miss Pewsey counting on her lean fingers, "the money from Lo-Keong--the money of Sophia and--"
"Oh," cried Olivia in disgust, "go away you miserable creature, and think of the hereafter."
Miss Pewsey gave a shrill laugh. "You can't help me, and your husband can't help me, so I'll go. But when I come back here, it shall be as mistress. I hate you Olivia--I have always hated you--I--I--oh you"--she could utter no more, but gasping, shook her fist and ran out of the window and down the avenue with an activity surprising in a women of her years.
After dinner and while they were seated in the library, Olivia told Rupert of Miss Pewsey's visit and accusation. He declined to believe the tale. "If Burgh was guilty he wouldn't have brought an accusation against Forge," he said, "as the doctor, if this is true, knows the truth. And Forge, if innocent, would not have cleared--"
While Ainsleigh was thus explaining, the door was burst open and Mrs. Petley, white as chalk, rushed in. "The ghost--the ghost," said she dropping into a chair, "the monk--in the Abbey."
Anxious to learn if there was any truth in these frequent apparitions reported by Mrs. Petley, Rupert left the swooning woman to the care of his wife and departed hastily from the room. Calling old Petley, he went out of the front door across the lawn and into the cloisters. Petley, hobbled almost on his heels with a lantern. The young man stopped at the entrance to the cloisters, and listened. It was raining hard and the ground was sopping wet. But beyond the drip of the rain, and the sighing of the trees, no sound could be heard. Snatching the lantern from Petley, Rupert advanced boldly into the open, and swung the light too and fro and round about. He could see no ghost, nor any dark figure suggestive of Abbot Raoul.
"Try the black square," piped the feeble voice of Petley, behind.
With a shrug Rupert did so. He thought that the housekeeper was mistaken as usual, and that the ghost was the outcome of her too vivid imagination. Walking deliberately to the black square where Abbot Raoul had been burnt three hundred years before, he swung the light over its bare surface. In the centre he saw something sparkle, and stooped. Then he rose with a cry. It was a fan. Rupert picked it up, opened it, and looked at it in the lantern light. There were the four beads and half a bead and the green jade leaves. The very fan itself.
How came the fan there--and on the accursed square of ground where no grass would grow? Rupert was not superstitious, yet his heart gave a bound, and for the moment he felt sick. This fan was the cause of much trouble in the past, it had cost one woman her life, and it might yet claim another victim. With the fan in his hand, and the yellow light of the guttering candle in the lantern gleaming on its beauty, he stood stupidly staring, unheeding the feeble piping of Petley's voice, as he peered in at the ruined archway.
"What's the matter, Master Rupert?" questioned the old butler with a shiver, "have you seenIt?"
"No," said Rupert at length, and he hardly knew his own voice so heavy and thick it was, "there's nothing to be seen."
A cry came from the old man. "Don't stand on that accursed ground. Master Rupert," he said, almost whimpering, "and to-night, of all times."
"Why to-night," said Rupert, retreating back to the arch.
"Any night," shivered Petley putting his hand on his young master's arm and drawing him out of the cloisters, "it's not a good place for an Ainsleigh to be in at night. The Abbot--"
"John, I don't believe in the Abbot."
"But Anne saw him--or It. She's not the one to tell a lie."
"Mrs. Petley is deceived in some way." Rupert considered a moment, and thrust the fan into his pocket. In the darkness, and because he turned aside the lantern light, old Petley had not seen that anything had been picked up. "I'm going to search round," said Rupert.
The butler gave a long wail as Ainsleigh broke from his grasp. "No! no!" he cried, lifting his long hands, "not at night."
But Rupert, now quite himself, did not heed the superstitious cry. He disbelieved in ghosts more than ever. Some flesh and blood person had brought the fan, and recollecting Burgh's story, and what Olivia had reported of Miss Pewsey's talk that afternoon, he quite expected to find Dr. Forge lurking in the cloisters. He would search for him, and when face to face, he would demand an explanation. So Rupert swiftly and lightly, walked round, holding the light high and low in the hope of discovering some crouching form. And all the time Petley waited, trembling at the door.
The rain fell softly and there was a gentle wind swinging the heavy boughs of the pines, so that a murmurous sound echoed through the cloisters like the breaking of league-long waves on a pebbly beach. For at least half an hour Rupert searched: but he could see no one: he could not even find the impression of feet, sodden as was the ground. After looking everywhere within the cloister, and in the Abbey itself, he brushed past the old butler and walked down the avenue. Here also, he was at fault as he could see no one. The gates were closed: but there was a light in the small house near at hand. Ainsleigh knocked at the door, and shortly old Payne, holding a candle, above his head, appeared, expressing surprise.
"Has anyone entered the gates to-night?" asked his master.
"No sir. I closed them at five as usual. No one has come in."
There were no signs of the gates having been climbed, and the wall which ran round the estate was so high and the top was pricked with such cruel spikes, that no one could possibly have entered that way. Old Payne insisted that no one had entered: he had heard no voices, no footsteps, and seemed much perplexed by the insistence of his young master. At length Rupert desisted from making inquiries, being perfectly assured that he would learn nothing. He returned up the avenue slowly to the mansion, wondering how it came about, that Forge had entered the ground and left the fan on the very spot where Abbot Raoul had been burnt.
Mrs. Petley had recovered from her swoon and, with her husband, had retreated to the kitchen. So, Rupert learned from Olivia, and he then gave her a description of his finding of the fan. She was very amazed and curious. "Show it to me," she said.
"Not just now, dear," replied Rupert walking to the door. "I must ask Mrs. Petley first to explain what she saw."
"She declares it was Abbot Raoul."
"Pooh. Forge masquerading as the monk I expect. Though why he should come here and bring this infernal fan I cannot understand. What is the time, Olivia?"
"Nine o'clock," she replied, "we had dinner early."
"Yes. Well, I'll see Mrs. Petley. You need not say anything about the fan, and as old John didn't see me pick it up, there will be no difficulty with him."
"Why should there be any difficulty with him?" asked Mrs. Ainsleigh.
"Your aunt was killed for the sake of the fan, and the person who killed her must have been within these grounds to-night. I want to keep the matter quiet, until I see Rodgers to-morrow. Then I'll explain all, and place the fan in his hands."
"Then you think Dr. Forge has been here?"
"Yes--or Clarence Burgh. But, as they have left Marport, I don't see what they have to gain by remaining in a place fraught with so much danger to both.
"They can't both be guilty, Rupert."
"No. But Burgh declares that Forge strangled your aunt, and Miss Pewsey lays the blame on her nephew. But I don't believe either one of them. I shouldn't be at all surprised to learn that the assassin is Major Tidman after all. He wanted the fan badly, so as to get the money."
"But you were with him on the beach, between eleven and twelve."
"I was, and the evidence of Dr. Forge went to show that Miss Wharf was killed between those hours. But suppose, Olivia," Rupert sank his voice and drew nearer. "Suppose Forge knew from the condition of the body that your aunt had been killedbeforeeleven, and had procured the fan from Tidman by threatening to say so, in which case the Major could not have proved an alibi."
"It might be so," replied Mrs. Ainsleigh, "but then the body would have been found earlier."
"No. There was not a single person, so far as I know, who went down those steps. Tung-yu certainly did,--but that was after the crime was committed, and we know he did not carry the fan with him. It is a very strange case. Perhaps after all, Tidman had already killed the woman when he joined me on the beach to smoke."
"Oh Rupert, how horrid. Was he disturbed."
"He certainly seemed rather alarmed but I put that down to the circumstances. He never shook off his fear of that adventure he had in Canton, and of course the mere presence of Chinamen would make him uneasy. But he kept his own council. However, we can talk of this later. I must see Mrs. Petley," and Rupert disappeared.
The housekeeper stuck to her story. She had gone into the cloisters to gather mushrooms which grew therein, and had the lantern with her. While stooping at the archway to see what she could pick she heard, even through the moaning of the wind the swish of a long garment. The sound brought her to her feet, and--as she phrased it--with her heart in her mouth. The place was uncanny and she had seen the Abbot before. "But never so plain--oh never so plain," wailed Mrs. Petley, throwing her apron over her white hair and rocking. "I held the light over my head and dropped it with a screech, for, there, not a yard away, Master Rupert, I saw it, with a long gown and a hood over its wicked white face--"
"Did you see the face?"
"I did, just as I dropped the lantern. White and wicked and evil. I dropped on my knees and said a prayer with closed eyes and then it went. I took the lantern and ran for the house for dear life, till I burst in on you and the mistress. Oh, Master Rupert dear, what did you see?"
"Nothing! And I believe, Mrs. Petley, you beheld some rascal masquerading."
"No! No! 'Twas a ghost--oh dreary me, my days are numbered."
Mrs. Petley could not be persuaded that the thing she saw was flesh and blood, so Rupert gave up trying to convince her. He returned the lantern back to old John and told the couple to retire to bed. They were both white and nervous and not fit to be up. Then he came back to the drawing-room and found Olivia seated by the fire reading. At the door Rupert paused to think what a pretty picture she made in her rich dinner-dress--one of Miss Wharf's gifts--and with one small hand supporting her dainty head. She looked up, as though she felt the magic of his gaze, and he approached swiftly to press a kiss on the hand she held out to him. "Well?" asked Olivia.
Rupert shrugged his shoulders. "There's nothing to be learned," said he, "Mrs. Petley won't give in. She believes she has seen a ghost, and declines that her days are numbered. As she is nearly seventy, I daresay they are. But this fan"--he took it out of his pocket.
"Let me see it," said Olivia stretching out her hand.
But Rupert drew it away and spread out the leaves. "No, my dear, I don't like you to handle the horrible thing. And besides, you have seen it often enough in the hand of your aunt."
"Yes, but now there is an awful significance about it."
"There's blood--"
"Blood," cried his wife shuddering, "but she was strangled."
"I speak figuratively, my dear. This little trifle has cost one life: it may cost more. I am quite sure Lo-Keong's life hangs on this fan, or he would not be so anxious to get it back. It has a secret, and I intend to learn what the secret is."
"Oh, you mean to wave it in the smoke," said Olivia remembering what Rupert had told her of Tung-yu's speech.
"Yes I do. I want to see the invisible picture. Then, we may learn of this hiding place which contains the things, Lo-Keong's enemies wish to secure. I expect it is some treasonous correspondence."
"But, Rupert, the hiding-place will be in China. Lo-Keong would not send papers of that kind to be concealed in England."
"It would be the safest place," replied Rupert dryly, "however, I intend to try the experiment of waving this fan in the smoke."
"You don't know the kind of smoke?"
"I can guess the kind. Olivia do you remember that joss stick which Mrs. Petley found in the Abbey."
"Yes--at the time she saw the ghost."
"Precisely. The ghost left that joss-stick behind on the first occasion, and the fan on the second. Now I shouldn't wonder if the fan had got into the hands of Hwei, and thathewas the ghost."
"What makes you think that?"
"Well, Hwei confessed that he was lurking outside the Bristol hotel to get a chance of killing Miss Wharf when she was lured out by Tung-yu. That gentleman however played false. All the same Hwei was here, and perhaps he came up to the Abbey--"
"Why?" asked Olivia looking perplexed.
"Ah, that I can't tell you. But I fancy the answer is to be found in this fan, as soon as we see the picture."
"But the smoke."
"Must be made by that joss-stick. It smells like cinnamon, and is apparently a manufactured article. Hwei brought it, so that he could wave the fan in its smoke and then learn the secret. But he dropped the joss-stick and--where is it Olivia."
"I put it in a drawer over there, after you showed it to me."
Mrs. Ainsleigh went to a rose-wood cabinet and opened a drawer. She then returned with the Joss-stick in her hand, and gave it to her husband, who was kneeling on the hearth-rug. "I hope it won't explode, Rupert," said Olivia nervously.
He stared. "Why should you think that?"
"Well it might have been dropped on purpose, and looks like a cracker with that red paper round it. Perhaps there's dynamite--"
"Nonsense," said Rupert taking out a match, "however, if you are afraid, go into the next room."
"No," said Olivia seating herself, "if you are to be blown to bits, I'll be blown up with you."
They both laughed at the idea, and then Rupert lighted the match. It was distinctly nervous work however, and Olivia started back, as her husband set the joss stick fizzling. She was leaning forward in the chair with her dark head nearly touching his fair hair. The joss stick smoked slowly and a queer odour diffused itself though the room. Olivia sniffed. "Rupert," she said positively, "it's the same scent as was on that letter of Tung-yu's."
"And of Lo-Keong also," said Rupert watching the thick bluish smoke, which now began to curl up from the joss stick, "apparently the Mandarin uses the perfume as a kind of clue, or perhaps it is a special scent dedicated to this private god of his. I shall never understand Chinamen and I'm very sure I don't want too. Olivia, hold the stick while I wave the fan in the smoke."
Being now assured that the smoke was proceeding from a harmless article, Mrs. Ainsleigh took the stick and held it lightly, while her husband gravely waved the out-spread fan in the thick smoke. The joss stick fizzled and burned and gave out its queer smell, which made both slightly dizzy. Every now and then, Rupert looked at the enamelled side of the fan, where Tung-yu said that a picture would appear. There certainly did seem something scrawled on the smooth green sticks, and a blurred outline revealed itself. For quite ten minutes Ainsleigh continued waving, until the joss stick burnt down nearly to the root. Then he looked again, Olivia placed the still fizzling joss stick in the fender, and peered over his shoulder. She uttered a cry when she saw the black outline of the picture, and Rupert nearly echoed it. They were looking at a drawing of the cloisters.
Yes--there were the cloisters of Royabay Abbey taken, as by a camera, from the archway. The architecture was clear enough, and the trees also. But the picture was merely evanescent, for as the fan grew cold again the outlines vanished. However, they knew that the hiding place of the presumed papers, was within the cloisters of Royabay--but in what spot. Rupert laid down the fan and propounded the problem to his wife. "The indications would be more exact."
"Yes," replied Olivia thoughtfully, and picked up the fan, "I suppose you are right, Rupert. It must have been Hwei who came to the Abbey on the night my aunt was killed and dropped the joss stick. Perhaps he came to see if he could find the hiding place, without the aid of the fan."
"No," said Rupert, "Hwei is the servant of Lo-Keong, and probably knew of the hiding place; whereas Tung-yu, who served Hop Sing wanted the fan to learn about it. I expect had Tung-yu bought the fan, he would have come here and found the papers and then have cleared out to China to place them in his master's hands and ruin Lo-Keong."
"Are you sure there are papers hidden?" said Olivia, fingering the beads dangling from the thick yellow cord.
"I think so. It can't be gold or silver or jewels. However, what we have to do is to find what is hidden. Then when Lo-Keong comes down we can make a bargain with him. If he hands over my eight thousand, I'll give him whatever we find."
"But how are we find the spot," said Mrs. Ainsleigh dreamily. "Oh, Rupert," she added, "it's in one of the trees. Don't you remember a tree was drawn at the side of the picture with a white line down the trunk?"
"No, I didn't see that. I saw the four trees and the stump drawn in the picture."
Mrs. Ainsleigh rattled the beads through her fingers. "Four beads and half a bead," she exclaimed, "Rupert, those stand for the four trees and for the stump."
"What makes you think so?"
"The half bead--that is the stump, and see, one of the beads is of jasper, that might be the copper beech."
"By jove," Rupert jumped up, "I believe you are right."
"I am sure I am, and in the tree drawn at the side of the picture which you did not observe, there was a white line down the trunk."
"Well," said Rupert pondering, "perhaps whatever is hidden is tied to a string or a chain and is dropped down the trunk of one of the four trees--or perhaps in the stump."
"Not in the stump," said Olivia quickly, "for then the line would be visible, while in the other trees it would be concealed in the thick foliage. I fancy the line must be down the copper beech trunk, as there is but one red bead."
"There is but one tree though--one copper beech you know," said her husband. "I am inclined to think that to make things safer, the hiding place must be in one of the green trees signified by the jade beads. The question is, which tree is it?"
Olivia looked at the fan again, and as she did so started. Rupert also raised his head. They heard the sound of wheels scrunching the gravel outside, and wondered who was arriving so late. The clock pointed to half-past ten. The servants had gone to bed, so Rupert followed by his wife, who was rather nervous, went to the door. When Rupert opened it he found himself facing a tall handsome man in a fur cloak, and wearing a strange hat.
"Good evening," said the stranger in the best of English, "I speak to Mr. Ainsleigh I think, I am the Marquis Lo-Keong."
"I must apologise for this very late visit," said Lo-Keong, when he was conducted to the drawing-room by his surprised host, "but I must explain--"
"Not now. Marquis," replied Ainsleigh, giving his visitor the rank which he claimed, "you must be weary and hungry."
"No. I am perfectly well, and enjoyed a meal before I left London. If you will give my servants orders to take up my luggage, and will then hear what I have to say, you will do everything I desire."
Rupert went again to the hall to tell the two Chinese servants, which Lo Keong had brought with him, to take the trunks up to the bed-room which the Marquis would occupy. Then he went to the back and made Mr. and Mrs. Petley rise. Both were disturbed when they heard that a Chinese grandee was in the house. "I do hope he won't bring trouble with him," said Mrs. Petley to her husband. "I never could a-bear them things, since I saw that creature who brought home the old master's baggage. And, Missus, as is dead, couldn't bear him either."
"He was a cock-eyed man," said old John reflectively.
"Cock-eyed yourself," retorted the housekeeper who had a better memory, "he was one-eyed, and a nice ugly thing he looked. Ah well, as I always says, Abbot Raoul don't walk for nothing, and this Chiner gentleman coming here, means trouble."
Old John who was much the same way of thinking himself, grew annoyed by his wife's pessimism and told her to hurry up and come to the kitchen. Then he went to see after the bed-room which his master had selected for the untoward guest. Mrs. Petley came down to find her kitchen in the possession of two grave silent Chinamen who had lighted the fire and were boiling water for tea. "Well, I'm sure," said Mrs. Petley surveying both with distaste, "the idear of these furreiners taking liberties," and she sniffed at the Far East.
Meanwhile, Rupert returned to the drawing-room and found the Marquis paying attentions to his wife. Lo-Keong was a tall, fine-looking man, grave and extremely polite. He had admirable manners, and his clothes were of the finest. Olivia in her rich dinner dress, felt quite plainly dressed beside this gorgeous gentleman, who wore a jacket of rose-pink, a coat of grass green satin, pale blue silk trousers, and thick-soled white green shoes. He also had a glossy pig-tail woven with silk, and carried a small fan--at which Olivia shuddered. Seated in a deep arm-chair, he looked a potentate, quite out of place in that sober English drawing-room. The Marquis was very affable, and deferential to Mrs. Ainsleigh, who quite overcame her dislike to Celestials after a few moments converse with this splendid specimen of the aristocracy of Cathay.
"You are quite sure you won't have some refreshment?" she asked.
Lo-Keong waved his slim hand graciously. "I thank you, no," said he, "and if you will allow me to explain myself, you can then retire. I am ashamed of having called at this hour. But," he looked at Rupert first and at Olivia afterwards, "my excuse is a good one. I have seen Hwei--whom you know."
Ainsleigh shuddered. "Yes, and I don't retain any very pleasant recollections of that gentleman," said he.
Lo-Keong laughed quietly, "Hwei is a true devotée of the god Kwang-ho."
"I don't understand about that god," said Olivia.
"I have come to explain," said the Chinaman, "it is a great pity I did not come before. You would then have had no trouble about this," and he took up the famous fan which Olivia had tossed on the sofa.
"Oh," the young couple looked at one another, and if they did not say "oh," the expression of "oh"--an amazed "oh" was on their faces.
Lo-Keong seemed to have his eyes everywhere, and took up the fan as if it was the most natural thing it should be lying there. "You understand," he went on in his calm well-bred voice. "I have seen Hwei and he told me everything."
"About the murder?"
"About the murder, Mrs. Ainsleigh, and about the hunt for the assassin; also about your husband's visit to London, and full details concerning the folly of Tung-yu--my enemy's servant, who related how the picture on this," he laid a long yellow finger on the fan, "could be brought to light," his eyes wandered to the fragment of the joss stick within the fender. "I observe that you have been clever enough to see the picture."
"Yes," said Rupert, quite amazed at this penetration, "but how do you know that?"
"Very easily. Hwei told me that he came to the cloisters one night to see that all was well----"
"He knew of the hiding place then?" asked Olivia, eagerly.
"Certainly. I have always trusted Hwei, but Tung-yu did not know, and hence his desire to procure the fan. Hwei was here on the night poor Miss Wharf was killed, and dropped the joss stick. You have been clever enough to make use of it. Well, now you both know where the packet is?"
"The packet?"
"Of papers which mean my life--papers connected with the Boxers, which the Mandarin Hop Sing would give much to possess."
"We know that the packet is hidden in a tree," said Rupert, "but which tree we cannot guess."
"Ah," Lo-Keong slipped the beads through his fingers, "here is a piece of jade with a gold band round it."
"The third bead----"
"Consequently the third tree. We will look for the packet, as soon as I explain myself. The packet must be safe, as you have the fan, and I know, Mr. Ainsleigh, you are my friend, as I was the friend of your father before you."
"What," Rupert threw back his head. "I understood from Dr. Forge, that you were my enemy."
Lo-Keong frowned. "Ah! he goes as far as that," said he, then paused a moment. "I will explain."
Olivia would have interrupted, but he threw out a long arm in an imperious manner, and began his story without further preamble, playing with the fan all the time.
"My name," said the Marquis, "is Lo-Keong, and I am a native of the province of Kan-Su----"
"Where the mine is," murmured Rupert.
"Exactly, Mr. Ainsleigh. My native town is on the Hwei River, and not far from the mine your father bought----"
"Along with Dr. Forge."
"Pardon me, sir, but Dr. Forge did not buy it. He was merely a servant of your father's. The mine was owned by your father alone. I conducted the negotiations on behalf of the owner of the land."
"But Forge says----"
"I can guess." Lo-Keong waved his hand coldly. "He blackens my name to you, and lies about the mine. Always bad--always foul, always a liar--that man must be killed. I have spared him too long."
Olivia shuddered. "No Marquis," said she, "I beg that there may be no more murders."
"Not in England, but when this Forge comes again to China," here the Marquis smiled in a cruel way, but made no further remark. The young people shuddered. He smiled benignly on them, and went on with his story in a calm level voice.
"My respected parent was a merchant," said he calmly, "and he gave me a fine education, of which, as you know, we think greatly in the Middle Kingdom. I secured the Hanlin degree, which is very high, and so became greater than my friend Hop Sing, who failed. That success made Hop Sing my enemy. I returned home, and Hop Sing made trouble. It is not necessary to explain how," added the Marquis with another wave of his hand. "But the trouble resulted in my leaving my parental roof, and becoming a soldier with the Boxers who then conspired against the Empress Dowager. But before I left my native town, I acted as the middle man between a respected resident and Mr. Markham Ainsleigh who desired to lease a gold mine on the Hwei River. I left him in full possession of the rights to work the mine, and Dr. Forge assisted him."
"Not as a partner?" asked Rupert breathlessly.
"By no means, Mr. Ainsleigh. Forge was a good doctor, but he knew nothing about mining. He doctored the Coolies, and attended to minor matters. Your father looked after the mine personally. I understand he learned how to do so in California."
"Yes--He was there before I was born, but--"
"Permit me to continue, Mr. Ainsleigh. Well then, I left your father in possession of the mine, and joined the Boxers. I rose to be a leader, and afterwards returned to see my parents. At that time the rebellion--for that it was--proved unfortunate, so it was necessary that I should conceal myself. I took service with your father as a foreman of the mine, and I can safely say," said Lo-Keong with a certain show of emotion, "that your father saved my life. I consider myself indebted to him, and now I am indebted to his son."
"It is very good of you," said Rupert. "I need a friend."
"You have one in me," said the Marquis courteously. "But to proceed, as the night grows darker. I was your father's friend, Hop Sing was his enemy, and Forge sided with Hop Sing."
"But why did he do that?" asked Ainsleigh impetuously. "Forge was at college with my father--they were great friends--"
"So Mr. Markham Ainsleigh thought. But Dr. Forge was greedy and wished to have the mine to himself. Hop Sing, who had some influence at the Imperial Court, promised to help Dr. Forge to get rid of your father and secure the mine provided I was ruined."
"And Forge acted this base part."
"He did," said the Mandarin quietly. "I may tell you Mr. Ainsleigh that I was completely in your father's confidence. He made a great deal of money out of the mine, and I arranged for it to be turned into safe investments through a third person whose name need not be mentioned. A large sum was placed out at interest and all these many years the interest has been accumulating. You will receive a handsome sum I assure you, Mr. Ainsleigh."
"But," broke in Olivia perplexed. "Dr. Forge told my husband that the whole amount was eighteen thousand, of which ten thousand belonged to him and eight thousand to Rupert."
"Dr. Forge places the money obtained from the mine at a low figure," said the Chinaman smiling, "what the amount is, I shall tell you later. Meanwhile I must explain the intrigue which led to your father's murder----"
"Ah," Rupert leaped to his feet, "then hewasmurdered."
"He was--by the emissary of Hop Sing. Be calm, Mr. Ainsleigh, and be seated. Your father died quietly enough by strangulation----"
"What. Was he killed in the same way as Miss Wharf?"
Lo-Keong bowed his stately head, "Yes, and by the same person----"
"Tung-yu," cried Olivia starting to her feet in her turn.
"Exactly, Mrs. Ainsleigh. I know that Tung-yu strangled Mr. Markham Ainsleigh, and I believe that he strangled your aunt."
Rupert sat down on the sofa and drew his wife down beside him. "But Tung-yu was the man who was to buy the fan----"
"Quite so." Lo-Keong folded and unfolded the fan calmly. "You know of the god Kwang-ho."
"Yes--but I can't understand----"
"Naturally," the Marquis laughed quietly, "that is a thing beyond the comprehension of a Western barbarian--your pardon for so calling you, Kwang-ho," went on the Mandarin, "is an ancestor of mine who lived during the Ming dynasty. He was a sage, and very famous, so I took him as my private god."
Olivia looked amazed and a little shocked. "A private god. I never knew that anyone could have a private god even in China," she said.
"If you have read Roman history, Mrs. Ainsleigh, you will remember the Lares and Penates, which were something of the same kind. I was very unfortunate with the public gods of my country, so I chose Kwang-ho to be my genius--my destiny. I had an image made and offered him incense. It was, in fact what you might call ancestral worship; only I looked upon Kwang-ho as one who could control my destiny. I was right," said Lo-Keong emphatically, "for, from the moment I sacrificed to Kwang-ho, my fortunes changed."
"In what way?" asked Rupert, wondering that a clever man like this should talk so superstitiously.
"In every way. The priest of my new god Kwang-ho consulted the deity and ordered that I should leave the Boxers and attach myself to the party of the Empress Dowager, who was to be all powerful in the future. I think," added Lo-Keong smiling blandly, "that Kwang-ho was right in that. Who is so powerful as my august mistress."
"True enough," admitted Ainsleigh impatiently, "but what has this to do with the death of my father?"
"Patience, Mr. Ainsleigh. I arranged to leave the Boxers. We were fighting for the Emperor, who was then being crushed by the Empress Dowager. I had many papers showing my devotion to the Boxer cause and to His Imperial Majesty. These papers I intended to destroy: but remembering that some day the Emperor might overcome the Empress, I decided to keep the papers. They would show that I had worked for the Emperor, and thus my fortunes would be secure should His Imperial Majesty reign alone. As yet," added Lo-Keong with a shrug, "he has not reigned alone and my august mistress still rules the destinies of the middle kingdom."
"Ah. And if she got those papers?----"
"She would cut off my head," replied Lo-Keong quietly, "so now you see why I thought it best to conceal them. I wished to preserve the papers so as to keep myself in favour with the Emperor, when he became supreme, and I wished to conceal them from the Empress Dowager and her spies, while she ruled China. You understand?"
"We do," said the young couple. "So you used the means of the fan to tell where they were hidden?" asked Rupert.
The Mandarin assented. "I did. I spoke to your father about this plan of concealment. I knew the papers would not be safe in China, as the emissaries of Hop Sing would find them, and I should be ruined, so on the suggestion of your father, I decided to hide them in England."
"But why in the Abbey?"
"Mr. Markham Ainsleigh's suggestion, sir. He said that this place had been in the possession of his family for years and would likely continue to remain under the Ainsleigh--"
"Alas--alas," sighed Rupert.
"Not at all, sir," was Lo-Keong's brisk reply, "you will have enough money to keep this place I assure you. But to continue--your father, whose health was very bad, arranged to take his money back to this place, and to take also the papers I wished to hide. We arranged that they should be concealed in the third tree and then I hit upon the plan of an invisible picture on the fan with the assistance of the beads to identify the hiding-place."
"But was that necessary when you knew the hiding-place?"
"I wished my heirs to benefit by my services to the Emperor during the Boxer rising; and they were not to know of the existence of these papers till I died. So you will understand--"
"Yes! It's very interesting, so please go on."
"Well while we were arranging these things Forge went to Pekin, and got a concession to work the mine from the Empress through the influence of Hop Sing. Meanwhile, I arranged to enter the service of my Imperial Mistress, and left your father ill of dysentery."
"Of which, according to Forge, he died."
"No," said the Mandarin decisively, "he was recovering. He had the packet and the fan which he was to take to this place. Hwei was to go with him, and design the invisible picture and hide the packet. I went to see about letting your father have the money which I had invested for him. All was ready and he was winding up his affairs. Then the emissary of Hop Sing strangled your father--"
"Tung-yu," said Rupert much agitated.
"I have already said that," replied the Marquis rather tartly, "your father died, and Forge obtained the mine. But he did not hold it long. I represented that Forge had obtained the death of Mr. Markham Ainsleigh through Hop Sing. The Empress took my view. Hop Sing was disgraced and I was promoted. Forge had to leave China for the time being, but he came back several times. I sent Hwei to this place with your father's effects and with the fan. He concealed the packet and drew the picture. Your mother was alive then, Mr. Ainsleigh, and Hwei showed her the fan, though he did not tell her the secret."
"Ah," cried Rupert, "now I remember where I saw the fan."
"Yes," Lo-Keong nodded, "as a boy of five you may remember it."
"I certainly do. But Marquis, why did you not send my father's money to my mother?"
"Ah. She died, and although I knew you were the heir and in the guardianship of Forge who was your enemy I could do nothing. Hop Sing got the upper hand again and I was in my turn disgraced. Then Hop Sing learned about the papers, and about the fan being the means of finding the hiding-place. He ordered Tung-yu to find the fan. Hwei was bringing the fan back from England to me. He was assaulted when he landed in China, but he luckily had given the fan to a brother of his, so Hop Sing could not find it. Then the brother was killed and a coolie, who knew nothing of the fan, took possession of it. Afterwards, I wanted the fan. Hop Sing told me what he suspected, so I applied to the god Kwang-ho. The god declared, through his priest, that Hop Sing was to come with me to the shrine. He did so, and thus, bitter enemies as we were, we came for a time to be in peace."
"And then the arrangement was made?"
"Yes. The god said that an equal chance must be given to good and evil. Hwei was appointed to find the fan for me, and to give death to the person who had it. Tung-yu acted for Hop Sing and was to give a reward of not less than five thousand pounds so that the person who held the fan should be rich for life. Each was to hold sway for twenty-four hours. I caused this to be published in the Chinese newspaper in Pekin. The coolie heard it and being fearful lest he should be killed, he kept the fan for years and said nothing. Then Major Tidman--"
"Ah I know. He came to see how my father died."
"Quite so, Mr. Ainsleigh, and the coolie, knowing the fan was connected with the death--for he afterwards went to Kan-su mine and asked questions--gave the fan to the Major to get rid of it, and--"
"And we know the rest," said Rupert rising. "Tidman gave it to Dr. Forge, and he gave it to you--or rather you caused it to be taken from him."
"No," said the Mandarin, "that is not true. I never saw the fan till now. All these years I have never set eyes on it."
"But Dr. Forge said--"
"Whatever he said he speaks falsely," said Lo-Keong, "but it is growing late, Mr. Ainsleigh, and I see that your wife is weary. Let us retire and I shall tell you the rest of the story to-morrow. But before I go to rest," added the Mandarin decidedly, "I must assure myself that the packet is still in the trunk of the third tree."
Rupert was quite ready and lighted the lantern. The two men went to the Abbey into the pitchy darkness, and walked to the third tree near the bare spot. Lo-Keong who seemed to be able to see in the dark like a cat looked round, and laid his finger on a huge oak. "This is the tree," said he confidently.
"But I can't very well see," said Rupert, "from which side do you count?"
"From the left to right," explained the mandarin, "in these robes, Mr. Ainsleigh, I cannot climb the tree, will you please to do so. You will find the hollow trunk and the line. Pall it up: the papers will be at the end. Bring them to me if you please."
So speaking Lo-Keong took the light and Rupert although in thin evening dress began to climb the tree. Luckily it was not difficult as the branches hung low, but it was disagreeable on account of the dripping wet. Every movement shook down much moisture. However, the active young man disappeared in the foliage and then felt round. He could not see, and came down to get the lantern, which the Chinaman passed to him. Then he found that the trunk of the tree was broken off, amidst the thick branches, and that the centre was hollow. He espied a rusty thin chain, and pulled it up. At the end there was a small box, which he brought down. With an exclamation of joy Lo-Keong took it. It opened easily in his hand.
"Gone," cried the Marquis in a voice of anguish.
He spoke truly. The box was empty.