The Mandarin's Fan
fell on the Chinaman seated by Miss Wharf, and he suddenly moved away.
It seemed to Rupert that the buccaneer was afraid. Chris remained to
protest, but Ainsleigh ended the matter by abruptly taking Olivia out of
the room. Miss Wharf frowned when she saw them depart and opened her
mouth, as though to call Olivia back. But on second thoughts she
contented herself with another frown and then turned to speak to
Tung-yu. "I have heard of you," she said.
"From my friend, Mr. Walker," said the polite Chinaman.
"Oh yes, and from someone else, through a third party. I heard of your
advertisement----"
"What advertisement?" asked Tung-yu.
"About this fan," and Miss Wharf waved it under Tung-yu's narrow eyes,
which did not change their expression of indifference.
"I do not understand, Madam!"
The lady looked astonished. "Why. Didn't you advertise for the fan?"
Tung-yu permitted himself to smile. "Who told you I did?" he asked.
"Mr. Ainsleigh, who left just now, told a friend of mine, who told me,"
said Miss Wharf. "I understood you wished to possess this fan."
"No," said Tung-yu indifferently, "the advertisement was placed in the
paper, by a compatriot of mine called Hwei. He asked me to see anyone
who called about it, as he was engaged. I saw Mr. Ainsleigh and told him
what he told your friend. You must apply to Hwei."
"And have my life taken," said Miss Wharf with a shudder.
This time the Chinaman was not able to suppress a start. "I do not quite
understand, Madam?" he reflected.
"Oh, yes, you do, Mr. Tung-yu. Hwei would murder me to get this fan. I
prefer to sell it to you for five thousand pounds."
The Chinaman's face became impassive again, though his eyes looked
surprised. "I assure you, this is quite wrong, Madam. My friend Hwei
wants the fan, because it belongs to a Mandarin who received it as a
gift from his dead wife. So dearly does this Mandarin prize it, that he
is willing to buy it at any price."
"Even five thousand pounds?"
"I believe so. This Mandarin is rich." He turned his narrow eyes again
on the lady. "Did the person who said that Hwei would go as far as
crime, tell you the Mandarin's name?"
"No. Who is the Mandarin?"
"I fear I cannot tell you madam. Hwei did not tell me. If you like I
will bring him to you."
Miss Wharf hesitated. Her avarice was aroused by the hope of getting rid
of a trifle for five thousand pounds but she did not wish to risk
herself alone with a blood-thirsty celestial. "If you will come also,"
she said, hesitating.
Tung-yu reflected. "Madam, I will be plain with you," he said gravely,
"as I am here, I can act on behalf of my friend Hwei--but to-morrow."
Miss Wharf tendered the fan. "Why not take it to-night and give me a
cheque," she said quickly.
"To-morrow," replied the Chinaman, rising and bowing politely, "I will
call on you, if you will permit me. Mr. Walker will show me the way. I
will then arrange to buy the fan at a price to which you will not
object. Meanwhile--" he bowed again and gravely departed.
Miss Wharf, rather annoyed and surprised by this behaviour, looked round
for Miss Pewsey, to whom she was accustomed to tell everything. The
little woman appeared at that moment pushing her way through the crowd
in a state of excitement. "Oh, Sophia!" she said, throwing herself down.
"Oh, Sophia."
"What's the matter?" asked Miss Wharf coldly.
"I might ask you," said Miss Pewsey, parrying the question, "you look so
upset, my Sophia."
"It is with pleasure then," said the old maid, dryly, "I have arranged
to sell this fan to-morrow for five thousand pounds."
"Oh," Miss Pewsey clasped her hand, "What joy; you will be able to add
to your income. But, Sophia, I really can't keep it any longer. That
Major Tidman----"
"Well. What about him?"
"Mr. Ainsleigh said he had a cold and was confined to his room. I went
up to see, as I don't trust that Major a bit. He's so wicked. I went to
his room, and peeped in. Sophia," added Miss Pewsey in a tragic manner.
"He is not there--the room is empty!"
CHAPTER IX
THE END OF THE BALL
Miss Wharf looked at her excited little friend with an indulgent smile.
"Really I don't see why you should trouble," she said with a smile. "Let
the Major do what he likes."
"He's up to some mischief," persisted the old maid, "and I'd like to
find out what it is. He is supposed to be keeping his room, because of a
cold, and I find he is not in. People with colds," added the lady,
impressively, "do not go into the night air."
"How do you know Major Tidman has?"
"Because he would be at the ball, were he in the hotel. I shall ask
Clarence to see what he is doing."
"Why?" asked Miss Wharf, puzzled.
"Because--oh, just because," replied Miss Pewsey, tossing her head in a
sharp way, like the Red Queen in Alice's Adventures. "But the fan,
dearest Sophia?--Can't I take charge of it?"
Miss Wharf grasped the fan tighter. "No, certainly not. It is worth five
thousand pounds."
"And perhaps more," said Miss Pewsey. "Remember, dearest Sophia, that is
the sum offered, but you might ask more. It is very important that this
Mandarin should get the fan back. Dr. Forge told me."
"Why is it important?"
"Theophilus didn't tell me that, but he said that this Mandarin--I quite
forget his queer name--would give even more than five thousand to get it
back."
"His emissary didn't seem very anxious to buy."
"Oh, that is craft," rejoined Miss Pewsey, tossing her head. "The
Chinese are very double, Theophilus says."
"I don't think so, Lavinia. I would have sold this fan for a few pounds
had I not known such a large sum was offered. Tung-yu is not a good
business man, or else the Mandarin must be a millionaire."
"He is--he is. I wish you would let me conduct the business, and _do_
let me take the fan?"
"No, I shall keep it."
"Sophia," said Miss Pewsey, solemnly, "that is dangerous. Rupert
Ainsleigh hates you and needs money; he might kill you to get that fan,
and sell it for five----"
"Nonsense. I cannot be murdered in a house full of people like this. I
know another Chinaman hints at murder--you told me so----"
"Olivia told me to tell you," put in the little woman, quickly.
"Well, Hwei isn't here, and I'll sell the fan to Tung-yu to-morrow."
Miss Pewsey would have said more, but at this moment Dr. Forge
approached, with a crooked elbow and a dreary smile. "Allow me to take
you into supper, Miss Wharf."
"Certainly," she rose and took the arm. "I am really hungry. Lavinia?"
"I shall look for Clarence. I must find out what has become of Major
Tidman," and the old maid hurried away while the doctor escorted Miss
Wharf to the supper-room.
Clarence was not drinking at the buffet, though his aunt went there to
find him as the most likely place. Nor was he in the ball-room, although
a new dance had begun. She could not see him in the card-room, but
finally ran him to earth on the terrace, where he was leaning against a
tree-fern with folded arms and with his wicked black eyes fixed on a
couple some distance away. Miss Pewsey followed his gaze and her eyes
also flashed, for she beheld Rupert talking with Olivia. Both their
heads were bent, and they conversed earnestly. The little woman hated
Olivia and detested Rupert, so the sight was gall and worm-wood to her.
"Why don't you ask her to dance?" she demanded, touching her nephew's
arm.
"Because there would only be a row," he rejoined sullenly. "I feel
inclined to spoil that chap's looks I can tell you."
"Do you really love the girl, so?"
"Yes I do. I'd give anything to marry her, and I shall too."
"There's not the slightest chance. Ainsleigh will not surrender her I
can tell you."
"Then why did you make me waste that fan."
"You didn't waste it on her," said Miss Pewsey coldly, "she refused to
take it like a fool, and now Sophia has it, there is no chance of
getting it back. Had I known the fan was of such value, you wouldn't
have caught me advising you to part with it. If you knew what this Hwei
said, why didn't you tell me the fan was valuable."
"I did not see Hwei until I had parted with the fan," said Clarence
crossly, "and we can do nothing now."
"You are not so bold as Major Tidman," she whispered.
"What's that?" asked the buccaneer sharply.
"He's not in his room," rejoined Miss Pewsey in a low voice, "he
pretends illness, to carry out his plan to get the fan."
"How do you know that?"
"Because Tung-yu is in the hotel. The Major will try and get the fan to
sell it to him."
"In that case he would have come to the ball and have seen Miss Wharf to
get it from her."
"No. He has some other plan. What it is I don't know. But I wish you
would look round for him, Clarence, and watch him."
"Bah! It's all stuff." Burgh turned to look at the sea and the pier and
the luminous night. "I'm getting sick of this business," he went on
discontentedly, "and but for the chance of gaining Olivia, I would bunk
out on the long trail. There's a barky out there," he continued pointing
to the right of the pier, "yonder--the one with the green light. I saw
her anchor early in the afternoon--a kind of gentleman's yacht I fancy.
She'd just do for me. I'd like to take a boat and pull out to her and
then get up steam for the South Seas. There's a clear path leads there,
down channel," and he stared at the flickering green light which winked
amongst many red ones.
"You'll never get Olivia," said Miss Pewsey, in a sharp tense voice,
"and you can go away as soon as you like. Meantime, look for Major
Tidman and tell him I want him."
Clarence lazily stretched himself, and moved off along the balcony. At
the end there was a flight of shallow steps leading down to an iron gate
which was open. Thence one could pass to the Esplanade and the beach, if
so inclined. But the guests kept to the populous end of the balcony
where the lights clustered. Near the stairs, there were hardly any
lamps, and a screen of flowers curtained it off from the rest of the
hotel. Clarence passed through this floral arch, and Miss Pewsey lost
sight of him. Her eyes turned to the couple she hated, and she
carelessly moved near them. No one noted her as the balcony was not so
full, and she sat down behind a fern where she could hear without being
seen by the two, she was spying on. Their voices were low, but hate
sharpened Miss Pewsey's ears, and she listened intently.
"My aunt is much more amiable to-night," Olivia was saying, "I suppose
the chance of making five thousand pounds has appealed to her."
"She gave me the chance of making it, provided I gave you up," said
Rupert, "and she lost her temper with me because I declined."
"Will you never be friends with her?"
"I fear not, while Miss Pewsey is in the way," said Rupert. "Olivia, it
is that woman who makes all the mischief."
"I think it is," replied the girl with a weary smile, "but she seems to
have a kind of hypnotic power over my aunt--"
"What do you mean?"
"Aunt Sophia has bad headaches and Miss Pewsey sometimes hypnotises her
to send away the pain."
"Miss Wharf is foolish to allow her to do such a thing. That little
woman is no more to be trusted than her scamp of a nephew is."
"Well it doesn't matter," said Olivia, feeling in her pocket. "I want to
talk about ourselves. See Rupert you wanted a silk tie the other day. I
have knitted you one--red and yellow."
Rupert took the tie and admired it in the lamp light. He would have
kissed Olivia's hand after a few words of warm thanks, but she prevented
him.
"Someone might see and tell Aunt Sophia," she said hurriedly, "I should
have given it to you the other day when I called at the Abbey, but I
forgot, so I decided to give it to you to-night. It's rather awkward
your having it now. Give it to me again."