The Mandarin's Fan
now held the fatal mortgage, to extend the time. But Olivia would not
allow her husband to ask a favour of the bitter little woman as she was
sure,--and rightly so,--that it would not be granted. The mortgage held
by Miss Pewsey was for three thousand pounds, and the two set their wits
to work, to see if they could pay this off by Christmas. Then, they
would have a good few months left to arrange other matters. If possible,
Olivia wished to keep Royabay, though the outlook was not cheering.
Another month slipped by, but few changes took place in Marport. As it
was now rather wintry, so many people did not come down to the sea-side.
Rupert and Olivia lived rather a lonely life at the Abbey, but being
very much in love, this did not disturb them: in fact it was rather a
pleasure. Sometimes Chris Walker and his aunt called. Lady Jabe had got
over her disappointment, now that Olivia was poor, and constantly abused
Miss Pewsey for taking the money. She was making the unfortunate Chris
pay attentions to Lotty Dean, whose father was a grocer and had ample
wealth. Things were going on nicely in this quarter, and Lady Jabe was
pleased.
Clarence Burgh had left Marport and was now amusing himself in London.
Sometimes he came down to see his aunt, who was getting ready for her
bridal and still lived in Ivy Lodge. There, Forge intended to remove
when married, as the house was rent free, and already he had given
notice to Tidman as the Major told Rupert one evening. "And I'm glad
he's going," said the Major, as he sat with his usual bottle of port
before the fire, after dinner, "I couldn't stand seeing, that Pewsey cat
in my house as Mrs. Doctor Forge."
"I wonder why he marries her?" said Rupert who was smoking on the other
side of the fire place.
"Because he is frightened of her, sir. That woman for some reason makes
everyone frightened of her--except me," added the Major swelling, "why
even that young Burgh hardly comes to see her, though he's down here
now--waiting for the wedding I suppose. It comes off next week and a
nice fright that Pewsey cat will look as a bride."
Rupert laughed. Olivia had left the room and retired to bed. The Major,
who had been fidgeting all the evening, looked round when alone with his
host. "I want to talk to you," he said.
"What about? Haven't you been talking all the evening."
"Not on the subject nearest to my heart," said Tidman sipping his port.
"I waited till Mrs. Ainsleigh went away, as I don't want to revive
unpleasant memories."
"Oh," said Rupert with a shudder, "surely you are not going to talk of
the murder."
"No--certainly not: but I am of the thing that caused it."
Rupert sat up quickly. "The fan. Why that's in China. Tung-yu took it,
after he--"
"Tung-yu did _not_ take it," said the Major producing a letter. "I
thought he did, if you remember, for you and I saw him on the beach on
that night."
"Yes. He was talking to a boatman."
"Arranging for his flight," said Tidman grimly, "and then he went back,
as I thought, and murdered that woman. But he didn't," the Major paused
to give full dramatic effect. "He thinks I did it."
"Oh, rubbish," said Rupert. "If you can prove an alibi on my behalf, I
can prove one on yours. We walked and talked on the beach, till nearly
twelve. Then you went back to your bed, and I returned to the ball-room.
Immediately afterwards the body was found. What makes Tung-yu accuse
you, and why do you get a letter from China?"
"It's not from China, but from London."
"Is Tung-yu there?" asked Ainsleigh, quickly.
"Yes. In some place in Rotherhithe. He writes from there, in this
letter. Read it," and he passed it to his host.
Rupert glanced over the few lines which were very neatly written on
yellow paper. The letter was to the effect that if Major Tidman would
bring the fan to a certain place in Rotherhithe, he would receive the
money. "Humph," said Ainsleigh, handing it back, "so it seems that
Tung-yu has not got the fan."
"Yes, confound him, and he thinks _I_ have it, in which case he must
believe that I murdered Miss Wharf."
Rupert nodded. "It looks like it," said he, "what will you do?"
"I don't know. I do not want another Canton adventure. I thought," here
the Major hesitated, "I thought you might go."
Ainsleigh did not burst out into a voluble refusal, as Tidman expected,
but stared at the fire. Seeing this, Tidman urged his point. "I think if
you went, you might get at the truth of the matter," he said. "If
Tung-yu didn't murder Miss Wharf, who did? Will you go?"
Rupert still gazed at the fire. He was thinking of the eight thousand
pounds due to him, held by Lo-Keong and which, if gained, would pay off
Miss Pewsey. "Yes," said he at length, "I'll go."
It was a risk, as he knew, but the money was worth the risk.
CHAPTER XV
THE ROTHERHITHE DEN
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 alongside 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