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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19916-8.txt b/19916-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e98c035 --- /dev/null +++ b/19916-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4878 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Civilization, by Ellen Newbold La Motte + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Civilization + Tales of the Orient + + +Author: Ellen Newbold La Motte + + + +Release Date: November 24, 2006 [eBook #19916] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CIVILIZATION*** + + +E-text prepared by David Garcia and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net/) from page images +generously made available by the Kentuckiana Digital Library +(http://kdl.kyvl.org/) + + + +Note: Images of the original pages are available through the + Kentuckiana Digital Library. See + http://kdl.kyvl.org/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=kyetexts;cc=kyetexts;xc=1&idno=B92-224-31182876&view=toc + + + +-----------------------------------------------------------+ + | Transcriber's Note: | + | | + | Inconsistent hyphenation and dialect in the original | + | book have been preserved. | + | | + | Obvious typographical errors have been corrected in this | + | text. For a complete list, please see the end of this | + | document. | + | | + +-----------------------------------------------------------+ + + + + + +CIVILIZATION + +Tales of the Orient + +by + +ELLEN N. LA MOTTE + +Author of "The Backwash of War," Etc + + + + + + + +New York +George H. Doran Company +Copyright, 1919, +by George H. Doran Company +Printed in the United States of America + + + + + The stories "Under A Wineglass," "Homesick" and "The Yellow + Streak" are published by courtesy of the _Century Magazine_. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + +I +THE YELLOW STREAK 11 + +II +ON THE HEIGHTS 33 + +III +HOMESICK 65 + +IV +CIVILIZATION 93 + +V +MISUNDERSTANDING 121 + +VI +PRISONERS 141 + +VII +CANTERBURY CHIMES 177 + +VIII +UNDER A WINEGLASS 217 + +IX +CHOLERA 235 + +X +COSMIC JUSTICE 247 + + + + +THE YELLOW STREAK + + + + +I + +THE YELLOW STREAK + + +He came out to Shanghai a generation ago, in those days when Shanghai +was not as respectable as it is now--whatever that says to you. It +was, of course, a great change from Home, and its crude pleasures and +crude companions gave him somewhat of a shock. For he was of decent +stock, with a certain sense of the fitness of things, and the +beach-combers, adventurers, rough traders and general riff-raff of the +China Coast, gathered in Shanghai, did not offer him the society he +desired. He was often obliged to associate with them, however, more or +less, in a business way, for his humble position as minor clerk in a +big corporation entailed certain responsibilities out of hours, and +this responsibility he could not shirk, for fear of losing his +position. Thus, by these acts of civility, more or less enforced, he +was often led into a loose sort of intimacy, into companionship with +people who were distasteful to his rather fastidious nature. But what +can you expect on the China Coast? He was rather an upright sort of +young man, delicate and abstemious, and the East being new to him, +shocked him. He took pleasure in walking along the Bund, marvelling at +the great river full of the ships of the world, marvelling at the +crowds from the four corners of the world who disembarked from these +ships and scattered along the broad and sunny thoroughfare, seeking +amusements of a primitive sort. But in these amusements he took no +part. For himself, a gentleman, they did not attract. Not for long. +The sing-song girls and the "American girls" were coarse, vulgar +creatures and he did not like them. It was no better in the back +streets--bars and saloons, gaming houses and opium divans, all the +coarse paraphernalia of pleasure, as the China Coast understood the +word, left him unmoved. These things had little influence upon him, +and the men who liked them overmuch, who chaffed him because of his +squeamishness and distaste of them, were not such friends as he needed +in his life. However, there were few alternatives. There was almost +nothing else for it. Companionship of this kind, or the absolute +loneliness of a hotel bedroom were the alternatives which confronted +him. He had very little money,--just a modest salary--therefore the +excitement of trading, of big, shady deals, said nothing to him. He +went to the races, a shy onlooker. He could not afford to risk his +little salary in betting. Above all things, he was cautious. +Consequently life did not offer him much outside of office hours, and +in office hours it offered him nothing at all. You will see from this +that he was a very limited person, incapable of expansion. Now as a +rule, life in the Far East does not have this effect upon young men. +It is generally stimulating and exciting, even to the most +unimaginative, while the novelty of it, the utter freedom and lack of +restraint and absence of conventional public opinion is such that +usually, within a very short time, one becomes unfitted to return to a +more formal society. In the old days of a generation ago, life on the +China Coast was probably much more exciting and inciting than it is +to-day, although to-day, in all conscience, the checks are off. But +our young man was rather fine, rather extraordinarily fastidious, and +moreover, he had a very healthy young appetite for the normal. The +offscourings of the world and of society rolled into Shanghai with the +inflow of each yellow tide of the Yangtzse, and somehow, he resented +that deposit. He resented it, because from that deposit he must pick +out his friends. Therefore instead of accepting the situation, instead +of drinking himself into acquiescence, or drugging himself into +acquiescence, he found himself quite resolved to remain firmly and +consciously outside of it. In consequence of which decision he +remained homesick and lonely, and his presence in the community was +soon forgotten or overlooked. Shy and priggish, he continued to lead +his lonely life. In his solitary walks along the Bund, there was no +one to take his arm and snigger suggestions into his ear, and lead him +into an open doorway where the suggestions could be carried out. He +had come out to the East for a long term of years, and the prospect of +these interminable years made his position worse. Not that it shook +his decision to remain aloof and detached from the call of the +East--his decision was not shaken in the slightest, which seemed +almost a pity. + +Like all foreigners, of course, he had his own opinions of the +Chinese. They were an inferior, yellow race, and therefore despicable. +But having also a firm, unshakable opinion of his own race, especially +of those individuals of his race in which a yellow streak +predominated, he held the Chinese in no way inferior to these +yellow-streaked individuals. Which argues broadmindedness and +fairmindedness. Of the two, perhaps, he thought the Chinese +preferable--under certain circumstances. Yet he knew them to be +irritating in business dealings, corrupt, dishonest--on the whole he +felt profound scorn for them. But as they had been made to suit the +purposes of the ruling races of the world--such, for example, as +himself, untainted by a yellow streak--he had to that extent, at +least, succumbed to the current opinions of Shanghai. He resolved to +make use of them--of one, at least, in particular. + +He wanted a home. Wanted it desperately. He wanted to indulge his +quiet, domestic tastes, to live in peace a normal, peaceful life, far +apart from the glittering trivialities of the back streets of the +town. He wanted a home of his own, a refuge to turn to at the end of +each long, monotonous day. You see, he was not an adventurer, a +gambler, a wastrel, and he wanted a quiet home with a companion to +greet him, to take care of him, to serve him in many ways. There was +no girl in England whom he wanted to come out to marry him. Had there +been such a girl, he would probably not have allowed her to come. He +was a decent young man, and the climate was such, here on the China +Coast, that few women could stand it without more of the comforts and +luxury than his small salary could have paid for. So finally, at the +end of a year or two, he got himself the home he wanted, in +partnership with a little Chinese girl who answered every purpose. He +was not in love with her, in any exalted sense, but she supplied +certain needs, and at the end of his long days, he had the refuge that +he craved. She kept him from going to the bad. + +His few friends--friends, however, being hardly the word to apply to +his few casual acquaintances,--were greatly surprised at this. Such an +establishment seemed to them the last sort of thing a man of this +type would have gone in for. He had seemed such a decent sort, too. +Really, a few professed to be quite shocked--they said you never knew +how the East would affect a person, especially a decent person. For +themselves, they preferred looser bonds, with less responsibility. +They said this to each other between drinks, and there was then, as +now, much drinking in Shanghai. A few even said this to each other +quite seriously, as they lay in pairs on opium divans, smoking opium, +with little Chinese girls filling their pipes--girls who would +afterwards be as complaisant as was required. One man who had lost his +last cent at the gambling wheels, professed great astonishment at this +departure from the usual track, a departure quite unnecessary since +there were so many ways of amusing oneself out here in the East. Of +course such unions were common enough, heaven knows--there was nothing +unusual about it. But then such fastidious people did not as a rule go +in for them. It was not the ménage, it was the fact that this +particular young man had set up such, that caused the comment. The +comment, however, was short-lived. There was too much else to think +about. + +Rogers liked his new life very much. Never for a moment did he think +of marrying the girl. That, of course, never dawned on him. Recollect, +he was in all things decent and correct, and such a step would have +been suicidal. Until the time came for him to go Home, she was merely +being made use of--and to be useful to the ruling races is the main +object in life for the Chinese. They exist for the profit and benefit +of the superior races, and this is the correct, standard opinion of +their value, and there are few on the China Coast, from Hongkong +upwards, who will disagree with it. + +In time, a son was born to Rogers, and for a while it filled him with +dismay. It was a contingency he had not foreseen, a responsibility he +had not contemplated, had not even thought he could afford. But in +time he grew used to the boy, and, in a vague way, fond of him. He +disturbed him very little, and counted very little in his life, after +all. Later, as the years rolled by, he began to feel some +responsibility towards the child. He despised half-breeds, +naturally--every one does. They are worse than natives, having +inherited the weakness of both ancestries. He was sincerely glad to be +rid of the whole business, when, at the end of about fifteen years, he +was called home to England. It had all served his purpose, this +establishment of his, and thanks to it, he was still clean and +straight, undemoralised by the insidious, undermining influences of +the East. When he returned to his native land, he could find himself a +home upon orthodox lines and live happily ever afterwards. Before he +left Shanghai, he sent his little Chinese girl, a woman long ago, of +course, back to her native province in the interior, well supplied +with money and with the household furniture. For the boy he had +arranged everything. He was to be educated in some good, commercial +way, fitted to take care of himself in the future. Through his lawyer, +he set aside a certain sum for this purpose, to be expended annually +until the lad was old enough to earn his own living. In all ways +Rogers was thoughtful and decent, far-sighted and provident. No one +could accuse him of selfishness. He did not desert his woman, turn her +adrift unprovided for, as many another would have done. No, thank +heavens, he thought to himself as he leaned over the rail of the ship, +fast making its way down the yellow tide, he had still preserved his +sense of honour. So many men go to pieces out in the East, but he, +somehow, had managed to keep himself clear and clean. + +Rogers drops out of the tale at this point, and as the ship slips out +of sight down the lower reaches of the Yangtzse, so does he disappear +from this story. It is to the boy that we must now turn our attention, +the half-caste boy who had received such a heritage of decency and +honour from one side of his house. In passing, let it be also said +that his mother, too, was a very decent little woman, in a humble, +Chinese way, and that his inheritance from this despised Chinese side +was not discreditable. His mother had gone obediently back to the +provinces, as had been arranged, the house passed into other hands, +and the half-caste boy was sent off to school somewhere, to finish his +education. Being young, he consoled himself after a time for the loss +of his home, its sudden and complete collapse. The memory of that +home, however, left deep traces upon him. + +In the first place, he was inordinately proud of his white blood. He did +not know that it had cost his guardian considerable searching to find a +school where white blood was not objected to--when running in Chinese +veins. His schoolmates, of European blood, were less tolerant than the +school authorities. He therefore soon found his white blood to be a +curse. There is no need to go into this in detail. For every one who +knows the East, knows the contempt that is shown a half-breed, a +Eurasian. Neither fish, flesh nor fowl--an object of general distrust +and disgust. Oh, useful enough in business circles, since they can +usually speak both languages, which is, of course, an advantage. But +socially, impossible. In time, he passed into a banking house, where +certain of his qualities were appreciated, but outside of banking hours +he was confronted with a worse problem than that which had beset his +father. He felt himself too good for the Chinese. His mother's people +did not appeal to him, he did not like their manners and customs. Above +all things he wanted to be English, like his father, whom in his +imagination he had magnified into a sort of god. But his father's people +would have none of him. Even the clerks in the bank only spoke to him on +necessary business, during business hours, and cut him dead on the +street. As for the roysterers and beach-combers gathered in the bars of +the hotels, they made him feel, low as they were, that they were not yet +sunk low enough to enjoy such companionship as his. It was very +depressing and made him feel very sad. He did not at first feel any +resentment or bitterness towards his absent father, disappeared forever +from his horizon. But it gave him a profound sense of depression. True, +there were many other half-breeds for him to associate with--the China +Coast is full of such--but they, like himself, were ambitious for the +society of the white man. What he craved was the society of the white +man, to which, from one side of his house, he was so justly entitled. He +was not a very noticeable half-breed either, for his features were +regular, and he was not darker than is compatible with a good sunburn. +But just the same, it was unmistakable, this touch of the tar brush, to +the discriminating European eye. He seemed inordinately slow witted--it +took him a long time to realise his situation. He argued it out with +himself constantly, and could arrive at no logical explanation. If his +mother, pure Chinese, was good enough for his father, why was not he, +only half-Chinese, good enough for his father's people? Especially in +view of the fact that his father's history was by no means uncommon. +His father and his kind had left behind them a trail of +half-breeds--thousands of them. If his mother had been good enough for +his father---- His thoughts went round and round in a puzzled, enquiring +circle, and still the problem remained unsolved. For he was very young, +and not as yet experienced. + +He was well educated. Why had his father seen to that? And he was well +provided for, and was now making money on his own account. He bought +very good clothes with his money, and went in the bar of one of the +big hotels, beautifully dressed, and took a drink at the bar and +looked round to see who would drink with him. He could never catch a +responsive eye, so was forced to drink alone. He hated drinking, +anyway. In many ways he was like his father. The petty clerks who +were at the office failed to see him at the race course. He hated the +races, anyway. In many respects he was like his father. But he was far +more lonely than his father had ever been. Thus he went about very +lonely, too proud to associate with the straight Chinese, his mother's +people, and humbled and snubbed by the people of his father's race. + +He was twenty years old when the Great War upset Europe. Shanghai was +a mass of excitement. The newspapers were ablaze. Men were needed for +the army. One of the clerks in the office resigned his post and went +home to enlist. In the first rush of enthusiasm, many other young +Englishmen in many other offices resigned their positions and +enlisted, although not a large number of them did so. For it was +inconceivable that the war could last more than a few weeks--when the +first P. and O. boat reached London, it would doubtless all be over. +During the excitement of those early days, some of the office force so +far forgot themselves as to speak to him on the subject. They asked +his opinion, what he thought of it. They did not ask the shroff, the +Chinese accountant, what he thought of it. But they asked him. His +heart warmed! They were speaking to him at last as an equal, as one +who could understand, who knew things English, by reason of his +English blood. + +So the Autumn came, and still the papers continued full of appeals for +men. No more of the office force enlisted, and their manner towards +him, of cold indifference, was resumed again after the one outburst of +friendliness occasioned by the first excitement. Still the papers +contained their appeals for men. But the men in the other offices +round town did not seem to enlist either. He marvelled a little. +Doubtless, however, England was so great and so invincible that she +did not need them. But why then these appeals? Soon he learned that +these young men could not be spared from their offices in the Far +East. They were indispensable to the trade of the mighty Empire. +Still, he remained puzzled. One day, in a fit of boldness, he ventured +to ask the young man at the next stool why he did not go. According to +the papers, England was clamouring loudly for her sons. + +"Enlist!" exclaimed the young Englishman angrily, colouring red. "Why +don't you enlist yourself? You say you're an Englishman, I believe!" + +The half-breed did not see the sneer. A great flood of light filled +his soul. He was English! One half of him was English! England was +calling for her own--and he was one of her own! He would answer the +call. A high, hot wave of exultation passed over him. His spirit was +uplifted, exalted. The glorious opportunity had come to prove +himself--to answer the call of the blood! Why had he never thought of +it before! + +For days afterwards he went about in a dream of excitement, his soul +dwelling on lofty heights. He asked to be released from his position, +and his request was granted. The manager shook hands with him and +wished him luck. His brother clerks nodded to him, on the day of his +departure, and wished him a good voyage. They did not shake hands with +him, and were not enthusiastic, as he hoped they would be. His spirits +were a little dashed by their indifference. However, they had always +slighted him, so it was nothing unusual. It would be different after +he had proved himself--it would be all right after he had proved +himself, had proved to himself and to them, that English blood ran in +his veins, and that he was answering the call of the blood. + +His adventures in the war do not concern us. They concern us no more +than the gap in the office, caused by his departure, concerned his +employer or his brother clerks. Within a few weeks, his place was +taken by another young Englishman, just out, and the office routine +went on as usual, and no one gave a thought to the young recruit who +had gone to the war. Just one comment was made. "Rather cheeky of him, +you know, fancying himself an Englishman." Then the matter dropped. +Gambling and polo and golf and cocktails claimed the attention of +those who remained, and life in Shanghai continued normal as usual. + +In due course of time, his proving completed, he returned to his +native land. As the ship dropped anchor in the lower harbour, his +heart beat fast with a curious emotion. An unexpected emotion, Chinese +in its reactions. The sight of the yellow, muddy Yangtzse moved him +strangely. It was his river. It belonged, somehow, to him. He stood, +a lonely figure, on the deck, clad in ill-fitting, civilian clothes, +not nearly so jaunty as those he used to wear before he went away. His +clothes fell away from him strangely, for illness had wasted him, and +his collar stood out stiffly from his scrawny neck. One leg was gone, +shot away above the knee, and he hobbled painfully down the gangplank +and on to the tender, using his crutches very awkwardly. + +The great, brown, muddy Yangtzse! His own river! The ships of the +world lay anchored in the harbour, the ships of all the world! The +tender made its way upward against the rushing tide, and great, clumsy +junks floated downstream. As they neared the dock, crowds of bobbing +sampans, with square, painted eyes--so that they might see where they +were going--came out and surrounded them. A miserable emotion overcame +him. They were his junks--he understood them. They were his sampans, +with their square, painted eyes--eyes that the foreigners pointed to +and laughed at! He understood them all--they were all his! + +Presently he found himself upon the crowded Bund, surrounded by a +crowd of men and women, laughing, joyous foreigners, who had come to +meet their own from overseas. No one was there to meet him, but it was +not surprising. He had sent word to no one, because he had no one to +send word to. He was undecided where to go, and he hobbled along a +little, to get out of the crowd, and to plan a little what he should +do. As he stood there undecided, waiting a little, hanging upon his +crutches, two young men came along, sleek, well-fed, laughing. He +recognised them at once--two of his old colleagues in the office. They +glanced in his direction, looked down on his pinned-up trouser leg, +caught his eye, and then, without sign of recognition, passed on. + +He was still a half-breed. + + + + +ON THE HEIGHTS + + + + +II + +ON THE HEIGHTS + + +Rivers made his way to China many years ago. He was an adventurer, a +ne'er-do-weel, and China in those days was just about good enough for +him. Since he was English, it might have seemed more natural for him +to have gone to India, or the Straits Settlements, or one of the other +colonies of the mighty Empire, but for some reason, China drew him. He +was more likely to meet his own sort in China, where no questions +would be asked. And he did meet his own sort--people just like +himself, other adventurers and ne'er-do-weels, and their companionship +was no great benefit to him. So he drifted about all over China, +around the coast towns and back into the interior, to and fro, +searching for opportunities to make his fortune. But being the kind of +man he was, fortune seemed always to elude him. In course of time he +became rather well known on the China Coast--known as a beach-comber. +And even when he went into the remote, interior province of Szechuan, +where he lived a precarious, hand-to-mouth existence for several +years, he was also known as a beach-comber. Which shows that being two +thousand miles inland does not alter the characteristics associated +with that name. + +Personally, he was not a bad sort. Men liked him, that is, men of his +own type. Some of them succeeded better than he did, and afterwards +referred to him as "poor old Rivers," although he was not really old +at that time. Neither was he really old either, when he died, several +years later. He was rather interesting too, in a way, since he had +experienced many adventures in the course of his wanderings in remote +parts of the country, which adventures were rather tellable. He even +knew a lot about China, too, which is more than most people do who +have lived in China many years. Had he been of that sort, he might +have written rather valuable books, containing his shrewd observations +and intimate, underhand knowledge of political and economic +conditions. But he was emphatically not of that sort, so continued to +lead his disreputable, roving life for a period of ten years. At the +end of which time he met a plaintive little Englishwoman, just out +from Home, and she, knowing nothing whatever of Rivers, but being +taken with his glib tongue and rather handsome person, married him. + +As the wife of a confirmed beach-comber she had rather a hard time of +it. But for all that she was so plaintive and so supine, there was a +certain quality of force within her, and she insisted upon some +provision for the future. They were living in the interior at that +time, not too far in, and Rivers had come down to Shanghai to +negotiate some transactions for a certain firm. He could do things +like that well enough when he wanted to, as he had a certain ability, +and a knowledge of two or three Chinese dialects, and these things he +could put to account when he felt like it. Aided by his wife, +stimulated by her quiet, subtle insistence, he put through the +business entrusted to him, and the business promised success. Which +meant that the interior town in which they found themselves would soon +be opened to foreign trade. And as a new trade centre, however small, +Europeans would come to the town from time to time and require a +night's lodging. Here was where Mrs. Rivers saw her chance and took +it. In her simple, wholly supine way, she realised that there were +nothing but Chinese inns in the place, and therefore it would be a +good opportunity to open a hotel for foreigners. Numbers of foreigners +would soon be arriving, thanks to Rivers' efforts, and as he was now +out of employment (having gone on a prolonged spree to celebrate his +success and been discharged in consequence), there still remained an +opportunity for helping foreigners in another way. Personally, he +would have preferred to open a gambling house, but the risks were too +great. At that time the town was not yet fully civilized or +Europeanised, and he realised that he would encounter considerable +opposition to this scheme from the Chinese--and he was without +sufficient influence or protection to oppose them. His wife, +therefore, insisted upon the hotel, and he saw her point. She did not +make it in behalf of her own welfare, or the welfare of possible +future children. She merely made it as an opportunity that a man of +his parts ought not to miss. He had made a few hundred dollars out of +his deal, and fortunately, had not spent all of it on his grand +carouse. There was enough left for the new enterprise. + +So they took a temple. Buddhism being in a decadent state in China, +and the temples being in a still further state of decay, it was an +easy matter to arrange things with the priests. The temple selected +was a large, rambling affair, with many compounds and many rooms, +situated in the heart of the city, and near the newly opened offices +of the newly established firm, the nucleus of this coming trade centre +of China. A hundred dollars Mex. rented it for a year, and Mrs. Rivers +spent many days sweeping and cleaning it, while Rivers himself helped +occasionally, and hired several coolies to assist in the work as well. +The monks' houses were washed and whitewashed; clean, new mats spread +on the floors, cheap European cots installed, with wash basins, jugs +and chairs, and other accessories such as are not found in native +inns. The main part of the temple still remained open for worship, +with the dusty gods on the altars and the dingy hangings in place as +usual. The faithful, such as there were, still had access to it, and +the priests lived in one of the compounds, but all the other compounds +were given over to Rivers for his new enterprise. Thus the prejudices +of the townspeople were not excited, the old priests cleared a hundred +dollars Mex., while the new tenants were at liberty to pursue their +venture to its most profitable limits. Mrs. Rivers managed the +housekeeping, assisted by a capable Chinese cook, and Rivers had a +sign painted, in English, bearing the words "Temple Hotel." +Fortunately it was summertime, so there were no expenses for +artificial heat, an item which would have taxed their small capital +beyond its limits. + +Two weeks after the Temple Hotel swung out its sign, the first guest +arrived, the manager of the new company. He came to town reluctantly, +dreading the discomforts of a Chinese inn, and bringing with him his +food and bedding roll, intending to sleep in his cart in the +courtyard. Consequently he was greatly pleased and greatly surprised +to find a European hotel, and he stayed there ten days in perfect +comfort. Mrs. Rivers treated him royally--lost money on him, in fact, +but it was a good investment. At parting, the manager told Rivers +that his wife was a marvel, as indeed she was. Then he went down to +Shanghai and spread the news among his friends, and from that time on, +the success of the Temple Hotel was assured. True, Rivers still +continued to be a good fellow, that is, he continued to drink pretty +hard, but his guests overlooked it and his wife was used to it, and +the establishment continued to flourish. In a year or two the railroad +came along, and a period of great prosperity set in all round. + +Like most foreigners, Rivers had a profound contempt for the Chinese. +They were inferior beings, made for servants and underlings, and to +serve the dominant race. He was at no pains to conceal this dislike, +and backed it up by blows and curses as occasion required. In this he +was not alone, however, nor in any way peculiar. Others of his race +feel the same contempt for the Chinese and manifest it by similar +demonstrations. Lying drunk under a walnut tree of the main courtyard, +Rivers had only to raise his eyes to his blue-coated, pig-tailed +coolies, to be immensely aware of his superiority. Kwong, his +number-one boy, used to survey him thus stretched upon the ground, +while Rivers, helpless, would explain to Kwong what deep and profound +contempt he felt for all those who had not his advantages--the great, +God-given advantage of a white skin. The lower down one is on the +social and moral plane, the more necessary to emphasize the +distinction between the races. Kwong used to listen, imperturbable, +thinking his own thoughts. When his master beat him, he submitted. His +impassive face expressed no emotion, neither assent nor dissent. + +Except for incidents like these, of some frequency, things went on +very well with Rivers for three or four years, and then something +happened. He had barely time to bundle his wife and children aboard an +English ship lying in harbour and send them down river to Shanghai, +before the revolution broke out. He himself stayed behind to see it +through, living in the comparative security of his Consulate, for the +outbreak was not directed against foreigners and he was safe enough +outside the city, in the newly acquired concession. On this particular +day, when things had reached their climax and the rebels were sacking +and burning the town, Rivers leaned over the ramparts of the city +wall and watched them. The whole Tartar City was in flames, including +the Temple Hotel. He watched it burn with satisfaction. When things +quieted down, he would put in his claim for an indemnity. The Chinese +government, whichever or whatever it happened to be, should be made to +pay handsomely for his loss. Really, at this stage of his fortunes +nothing could have been more opportune. The Temple Hotel had reached +the limit of its capacity, and he had been obliged to turn away +guests. Moreover the priests, shrewd old sinners, had begun to clamour +for increased rental. They had detected signs of prosperity--as +indeed, who could not detect it--and for some time past they had been +urging that a hundred dollars Mex. a year was inadequate compensation. +Well, this revolution, whatever it was all about, would put a stop to +all that. Rivers would claim, and would undoubtedly receive, an ample +indemnity, with which money he would build himself a fine modern +hostelry, such as befitted this flourishing new trade centre, and as +befitted himself, shrewd and clever man of affairs. Altogether, this +revolution was a most timely and fortunate occurrence. He surveyed the +scene beneath him, but a good way off, be it said. Shrieks and yells, +firing and destruction, and the whole Tartar City in names and fast +crumbling into ashes. + +The revolution settled itself in due time. The rebels either got what +they wanted, or didn't get what they wanted, or changed their minds +about wanting it after all, as sometimes happens with Chinese +uprisings. Whichever way it was, law and order were finally restored +and life resumed itself again on normal lines, although the Tartar +City, lying within the Chinese City, was a total wreck. What happened +in consequence to the despoiled and dispersed Manchu element is no +concern of ours. + +Rivers put in his claim for an indemnity and got it. It was awarded +promptly, that is, with the delay of only a few months, and he at once +set out to build himself a fine hotel, in accordance with his highest +ambitions. The construction was entrusted to a native contractor, and +while the work progressed apace, he and his wife went down river to +Shanghai, and the children were sent north somewhere to a mission +school. During this enforced residence in Shanghai, in which city he +had been known some years ago as a pronounced beach-comber and +ne'er-do-weel, he was obliged to live practically without funds. +However, he was able to borrow on the strength of his indemnity, but +to do him justice, he limited his borrowings to the lowest terms, not +wishing to encroach upon his capital. In all this economy of living, +his wife assisted him greatly, for although supine and flexible there +was that quality of force about her which we have mentioned before. + +As befitted a person who had lost his all in a Chinese uprising and +had been rewarded with a large sum of money in return, Rivers was +particularly bitter against the Chinese. His old contempt and hatred +flared up to large proportions, and he expressed his feelings openly +and freely, especially at those times when alcohol clouded his +judgment. Moreover, he was living in Shanghai now, where it was easy +to express his feelings in the classic way approved by foreigners, and +sanctioned by the customs and usages of the International Settlement. +He delighted to walk along the Bund, among crowds of burdened coolies +bending and panting under great sacks of rice, and to see them shrink +and swerve as he approached, fearing a blow of his stick. When he rode +in rickshaws, he habitually cheated the coolie of his proper fare, +secure in the knowledge that the Chinese had no redress, could appeal +to no one, and must accept a few coppers or none at all, at his +pleasure. If the coolie objected, Rivers still had the rights of it. A +crowd might collect, vociferating in their vile jargon, but it +mattered nothing. A word from Rivers to a passing European, to a +policeman, to any one whose word carries in the Settlement, was +sufficient. He had but to explain that one of these impertinent yellow +pigs had tried to extort three times the legal fare, and his case was +won. No coolie could successfully contradict the word of a foreigner, +no police court, should matters go as far as that, would take a +Chinaman's word against that of a white man. He was quite secure in +his bullying, in his dishonesty, in his brutality, and there is no +place on earth where the white man is more secure in his +whitemanishness than in this Settlement, administered by the ruling +races of the world. Rivers thoroughly enjoyed these street fracases, +in which he was the natural and logical victor. He enjoyed telling +about them afterward, for they served to illustrate his conception of +the Chinese character and of the Chinese race in general. It was but +natural for him to feel this way, seeing what losses he had suffered +through the revolution. As he told of his losses, it was not apparent +to an outsider that the hotel had not been utterly and entirely his +property, instead of an old Buddhist temple rented from the priests +for one hundred dollars Mex. a year. + +Besides Rivers, others in the town in the interior had suffered +hardships. Among them was his number-one boy, Kwong, who had served +him faithfully for several years. Kwong had been rather hard hit by +the uprising. His wretched little hovel had been burned to the ground, +his wife had fallen victim to a bullet, while his two younger children +disappeared during the excitement and were never heard of again. +Killed, presumably. After the victorious rebels had had their way, all +that remained to Kwong was his son Liu, aged eighteen, and these two +decided to come down to Shanghai and earn their living amidst more +civilized surroundings. One of the strongest arguments in favour of +the International Settlement is that it affords safety and protection +to the Chinese. They flock to it in great numbers, preferring the just +and beneficent administration of the white man to the uncertainties of +native rule. So Kwong and his son made their way down the Yangtzse, +floating down river on a stately junk with ragged matting sails. It +was the tide, and a bamboo pole for pushing, rather than any +assistance derived from the ragged sails, which eventually landed them +in the safe harbour of Whangpoo Creek, and stranded them on the mud +flats below Garden Bridge. + +Being illiterate people, father and son, unskilled labour was all that +presented itself, so they became rickshaw coolies, as so many country +people do. During a year, some two hundred thousand men, young and old +and mostly from up-country, take up the work of rickshaw runners. It +is not profitable employment, and the work is hard, and many of them +drop out--the come-and-go of rickshaw runners is enormous, a great, +unstable, floating population. Kwong and Liu hired a rickshaw between +them, for a dollar and ten cents a day, and their united exertions +barely covered the day's hire. Sometimes they had a few coppers over +and above the daily expenses, sometimes they fell below that sum and +had to make up the deficit on the morrow. On the occasions when they +were in debt to the proprietor, they were forced to forego the small +outlay required for food, and neither could afford a meagre bowl of +millet. Pulling a rickshaw on an empty stomach is not conducive to +health. Kwong, being an older man, found the strain very difficult, +and Liu, being but a fledgling and weak and undeveloped at that, also +found it difficult. They were always tired, nearly always hungry, and +part of the time ill. And what neither could understand was the +passengers' objection to paying the legal fare. Now and then, of +course, they had a windfall in the shape of a tourist or a drunken +sailor from a cruiser, but these exceptions were few and far between. +Necessarily so, considering the number of rickshaws, and that the tram +cars were strong competitors as well. + +They were also surprised at the attitude of the Europeans. The first +time that Liu was struck over the head by a beautiful Malacca cane, he +was aghast with astonishment--and pain. Fortunately he knew enough not +to hit hack. Not understanding English, he did not know that he was +being directed to turn up the Peking Road, and accordingly had run +swiftly past the Peking Road until brought to his senses, so to speak, +by a silver knob above the ear, which made him dizzy with pain. As +time passed, however, he grew accustomed to this attitude of the +ruling race, and accepted the blows without remonstrance, knowing that +remonstrance was vain. His fellow coolies soon taught him that. He and +his kind were but dogs in the sight of the foreigners, and must accept +a dog's treatment in consequence. Once a lady leaned far forward in +the rickshaw and gave him a vicious kick. Up till then, he had not +realised that the women of the white race also had this same feeling +towards him. But what can one expect? If a man lowers himself to the +plane of an animal and gets between shafts, he must expect an animal's +treatment. In certain communities, however, there are societies to +protect animals. + +Matters went along like this for some months, and Kwong and Liu barely +kept themselves going. However, they managed to keep out of debt for +the rickshaw hire, which was in itself an achievement. Rivers also +continued to live in Shanghai at this time, making up-river trips now +and then to inspect the progress of his new hotel, which was +favourable. As he landed at the Bund one day, returning from one of +these excursions, he chanced to step into the rickshaw pulled by his +old servitor, Kwong. Kwong made him a respectful salute, but Rivers, +preoccupied, failed to recognise his former servant in the old and +filthy coolie who stood between the shafts of an old and shabby +rickshaw. He always made it a point to select old rickshaws, pulled by +broken down men. They looked habitually underpaid, and were probably +used to it, and were therefore less likely to raise objections at the +end of the trip than one of the swift young runners who stood about +the European hotels. Remember, in extenuation, that Rivers was living +on credit at this time, on borrowed money, and he did not like to be +more extravagant than he had to. + +The day was a piping hot one, and the distance Rivers travelled was +something under three miles, out on the edge of French Town. When he +alighted, he found but three copper cents in his pocket, all that was +left him after a considerable carouse on the river boat coming down. +He tendered this sum to the panting and sweating Kwong, who stood +exhausted but respectful, hoping in a friendly way that his old master +would recognise him. To do Rivers justice, he did not recognise his +former servant, nor did he have more than three copper cents in his +possession, although that fact was known to him when he stepped into +the rickshaw and directed the coolie to French Town, extreme limits. +Kwong indignantly rejected the copper cents, and Rivers flung them +into the dust and turned away. Kwong ran after him, expostulating, +catching him by the coat sleeve. Rivers turned savagely. The wide road +was deserted, and in a flash he brought his heavy blackwood stick +across Kwong's face with a terrific blow. The coolie fell sprawling in +the dust at his old master's feet, and Rivers, furious, kicked him +savagely in the stomach, again and again, until the man lay still and +ceased writhing. Blood gushed from his mouth, making a puddle in the +dust, a puddle which turned black and thick about the edges. + +In an instant Rivers was sobered. He glanced swiftly up and down the +road, and to his dismay, saw a crowd of blue coated figures running in +his direction. He had barely time to stoop down and pick up the +tell-tale coppers before he was surrounded by a noisy and excited +group of Chinese, gesticulating furiously and rending the hot, blue +air with their outlandish cries. A policeman came in sight, and a +passing motor filled with foreigners stopped to see the trouble. He +had overdone things, surely. There was nothing for it but the police +station. + +Now such accidents are not infrequent in Shanghai, the white man's +city built in China, administered by the white men to their own +advantage, and to the advantage of the Chinese who seek protection +under the white man's just and beneficent rule. However, human life is +very cheap in China, cheaper than most places in the Orient, although +that is not saying much. It would, therefore, have been very easy for +Rivers to have extricated himself from this scrape had he possessed +any money. Two hundred and fifty dollars, Mex. is the usual price for +a coolie's life when an affair of this kind happens. There is a well +established precedent to this effect. Unfortunately for Rivers, he did +not possess two hundred and fifty dollars, for as has been said, he +was at this time living on borrowed money. Nothing for it then but a +trial, and certain unpleasant publicity. Happily, there were no +witnesses to the occurrence, and Rivers' plea of self-defence would +naturally he accepted. It was an unpleasant business, however, but +there was no other way out of it, seeing that he was bankrupt. + +The trial took place with due dignity. Evidence, produced after an +autopsy, proved that at the time of the accident Kwong was in a very +poor state of health. Every one knows that the work of a rickshaw +coolie is hard, the physical strain exceedingly severe. Four years, at +the outside, is the average life of a rickshaw runner, after which he +must change his occupation to something more suited to a physical +wreck. Much testimony was produced to show that Kwong had long ago +reached that point. He was courting death, defying death, every day. +It was his own fault. He had great varicose veins in his legs, which +were large and swollen. His heart, constantly overtaxed by running +with heavy weights, was enlarged and ready to burst any moment. His +spleen also was greatly dilated and ready to burst--in fact, it was +not at all clear whether after such a long run--three miles in such +heat--he would not have dropped dead anyway. Such cases were of daily +occurrence, too numerous to mention. The slight blow he had +received--a mere push as defendant had stated under oath--was probably +nothing more than a mere unfortunate coincidence. + +Such being the evidence, and the courts being administered by +Europeans, and there being no doubt whatever of the quality of justice +administered by Europeans in their own behalf, it is not surprising +that Rivers was acquitted. The verdict returned was, Accidental death +due to rupture of the spleen, caused by over-exertion. Rivers was a +good deal shaken, however, when he stepped out of the courtroom, into +the hot, bright sunshine, and received the congratulations of his +friends. He had heard so many disgusting medical details of the havoc +caused by rickshaw pulling, that he resolved to be very careful in +future about hitting these impudent, good-for-nothing swine. + +Amongst the crowd in the courtroom, but practically unnoticed, sat +Liu, son of the late Kwong. The proceedings being in English, he was +unable to follow them, but he knew enough to realise that the slayer +of his father was being tried. Presumably his life was at stake, as +was befitting under the circumstances. Therefore his surprise was +great when the outcome of the case was explained to him by a Chinese +friend who understood English, and his astonishment, if such it may be +called, was still more intense upon seeing Rivers walk out of the +courtroom receiving congratulatory handshakes as he passed. To the +ignorant mind of the young Chinese, Rivers was being felicitated for +having committed murder. He was unable to draw any fine distinctions, +or to understand that these congratulations were not intended for +Rivers personally, but because his acquittal strengthened established +precedents. Precedents that rendered unassailable the status of the +ruling race. Liu was therefore filled with an overmastering and bitter +hatred of Rivers, and had he realised what the acquittal stood for, +would probably have been filled with an equally intense hatred for the +dominant race in general. Not understanding that, however, he +concentrated his feelings upon Rivers, and resolved to bring him to +account in accord with simpler, less civilized standards. + +Within two months, the Temple Hotel was finished and ready for use. +Much foreign furniture had been sent up from Shanghai, and Rivers and +his wife also removed themselves to the up-river town and set about +their business. Rivers was glad to leave Shanghai; he had had enough +of it, since his unlucky episode, and was glad to bury himself in the +comparative obscurity of the interior. Life resumed itself smoothly +once again, and he prospered exceedingly. + +His attitude towards the natives, however, was more domineering than +ever, now that he had recovered from the unpleasant two weeks that +preceded his trial. These two weeks had been more uncomfortable than +he liked to think about, but safely away from the scene of the +disturbance, he became more abusive, more brutal than ever in his +attitude towards the Chinese. His servants horribly feared him, yet +did his bidding with alacrity. The reputation of a man who could kill +when he chose, with impunity, stood him in good stead. Liu, the son of +Kwong, followed him up-river and obtained a place in his household as +pidgeon-cook, assistant to number-one cook. Rivers failed to recognize +his new servant, and at such times as he encountered him, was +delighted with the servile attitude of the youth, and called him "Son +of a Turtle" which is the worst insult in the Chinese language. + +Liu bided his time, for time is of no moment in the Orient. His hatred +grew from day to day, but he continued to wait. He wished to see +Rivers thoroughly successful, at the height of his career, before +calling him to account. Since he would have to pay for his revenge +with his life--not being a European--he determined that a white man at +the top of his pride would be a more fitting victim than one who had +not yet climbed the ladder. Such was his simple reasoning. Under his +long blue coat there hung a long, thin knife, whetted to razor +sharpness on both edges. + +Summer came again, and the blazing heat of mid-China, lay over the +land. Mrs. Rivers went north to join her children, and the number of +guests in the hotel diminished to two or three. Business and tourists +came to a standstill during these scorching weeks, and Rivers finally +went down to Shanghai for a few days' jollification. He left his +affairs in the hands of the shroff, the Chinese accountant, who could +be trusted to manage them for a short time. + +He returned unexpectedly one night about eleven o'clock, quite drunk. +The few guests had retired and the hotel was closed. At the gate, the +watchman lay asleep beside his lantern, and when Rivers let himself in +with his key, he found Liu in the lounge, also asleep. He cursed Liu, +but submitted to the steady, supporting arm which the boy place around +his waist, and was led to bed without difficulty. Liu assisted his +master to undress, folding up the crumpled, white linen clothes with +silver buttons, and laying them neatly across a chair. He was an +excellent servant. Then he retired from the room, listening outside +the door till he heard sounds of heavy, stertorous breathing. At that +moment, the contempt of the Chinese for the dominant race was even +greater than Rivers' contempt for the inferior one. + +When the proprietor's breathing had assumed reassuring proportions, +Liu opened the door cautiously, and stepped lightly into the room. He +then locked it with equal caution, slipped quietly across to the +verandah, and passed out through the long, wide-open windows. The +verandah was a dozen feet from the ground, and the dark passage below, +leading to the gate, was deserted. At the other end sat the watchman +with his lantern, presumably asleep. Liu had not heard his drum tap +for an hour. A shaft of moonlight penetrated the room, and a light +wind blowing in from outside gently stirred the mosquito curtains over +the bed. Liu tiptoed to the bed, and with infinite care drew the +netting aside and stood surveying his victim. Rivers lay quite still +with arms outstretched, fat and bloated, breathing with hoarse, +blowing sounds, quite repulsive. The moonlight was sufficient to +enable Liu to see the dark outline upon the bed, and to gauge where +he would strike. He hovered over his victim, exultant, prolonging from +minute to minute this strange, new feeling of power and dominance. +That was what it meant to be a white man--to feel this feeling +always--always--all one's life, not merely for a few brief, +exhilarating moments! And with that feeling of power and dominance was +the ability to inflict pain, horrible, frightful pain. That also was +part of the white man's heritage, this ability to inflict pain and +suffering at will. And after that, death. Liu also had the power to +inflict death. Leaning over the bed, with the long, keen knife in his +steady clutch, he was for those glorious moments the equal of the +white man! He prolonged his sensations breathlessly--this sense of +superb power, this superb ability to inflict humiliation, pain and +death. + +A mosquito lit on Rivers' blotched cheek, and he raised a heavy arm to +brush it away. Then he relaxed again with a snore. Liu paused, +waiting. The glorious exaltation was mounting higher. It occurred to +him to sharpen these sensations, to heighten them. After all, he was +about to kill a drunken man in a drunken sleep. He wanted something +better. He wanted to feel his power over a conscious man, a man +conscious and aware of what was to befall him. Even as his father had +been conscious and aware of what was befalling him, even as thousands +of his countrymen were awake and aware, knowing what was being done to +them--by the dominant race. He wished Rivers awake and aware. It +involved greater risk, but it was worth it. Therefore, with the point +of his sharp, keen knife, he gently prodded the throat of the sleeper, +lying supine before him under the moon rays. Gently, very gently, he +prodded the exposed throat, placed the point of his knife very gently +upon his heaving, corded larynx, which pulsed inward and outward under +the heaving, stertorous breaths. Gently he stimulated the corded, +puffing throat, gently, with the point of his sharp knife. + +The result was as he wished. First Rivers stirred, moved a restless +arm, flopped an impotent, heavy arm that fell back upon the pillow, an +arm that failed to reach its objective, to quell the tickling, cold +point prodded into his throat. Then as he slowly grew conscious, the +movements of the arm became more coordinated. Into his drunken mind +came the fixed sensation of a disturbance at his throat. He became +conscious, opened a heavy eye, and fixed it upon Liu, without at the +same time feeling the pressing point at his throat. Liu saw his +returning consciousness, and leaning over him, pressed upon his +throat, ever so lightly, the point of his long knife. Thus for a +moment or two they regarded each other, Liu having the advantage. But +so it had always been. Having the advantage was one of the attributes +of the dominant race. Thus for those few brief seconds, Liu +experienced the whole glory of it. And as little by little Rivers +emerged from the drunken to the conscious, to the abjectly, cravenly +conscious, so Liu mounted to the heights. + +Then he saw that Rivers was about to cry out. To let forth a roaring +bellow, a howling bellow. Enough. He had tasted the whole of it. He +had felt, for prolonged and glorious moments, the feelings of the +superior race. Therefore he drove home, silently, his sharp, keen +knife, and stifled the mad bellow that was about to be let forth. +After which, he crept very cautiously to the balcony, and peered +anxiously up and down the dark alleyway beneath. He lowered himself +with infinite caution over the railing. He had become once more the +cringing Oriental. + + + + +HOMESICK + + + + +III + +HOMESICK + + +A Chinese gentleman, with his arms tucked up inside the brocaded +sleeves of his satin coat, stood one day with one foot in China and +the other upon European soil. From time to time he bore with alternate +weight upon the right foot, on Chinese soil, and then upon the left +foot, upon European soil, and his mental attitude shifted from right +to left accordingly. The foot upon Chinese soil reflected upward to +his brain the restriction of Chinese laws, the breaking of which were +accompanied by heavy penalties. The foot upon European soil reassured +him as to his ability to indulge himself, with no penalties +whatsoever. Therefore, after balancing himself for a few moments first +upon this foot, then upon that, he gave way to his inclinations and +resolved to indulge them. In certain matters, Europeans were more +liberal than Chinese. + +From this you will see that he had been standing with one foot in +China, where opium traffic was prohibited, where heavy fines were +attached to opium smoking and to opium buying, where heavy jail +sentences were imposed upon those who smoked or bought opium, while +the other foot, planted upon the ground of the Foreign Concession, +assured him of his absolute freedom to buy opium in any quantity he +chose, and to smoke himself to a standstill in an opium den licensed +under European auspices. In his saner moments, when not under the +influence of the drug, he resented the European occupation of certain +parts of Chinese territory, but when his craving for opium +occurred--which it did with great frequency--he was delighted to +realise that there were certain parts of China not under the authority +of the drastic laws of China, which laws prohibited with such drastic +and heavy penalties the indulgences he craved. Therefore he swayed +himself backwards and forwards for a space, first upon this foot, then +upon that, and finally withdrew both feet into the Foreign Concession, +and directed his steps to a shop where opium was sold under European +influence. The shop was capacious but dark. He stated his requirements +and they were measured out to him--a large keg was withdrawn from its +place on a shelf, and a gentle Chinese, clad, like himself, in satin +brocade, dug into the contents of the keg with a ladle and withdrew +from it a black, molasses-like substance, which ran slowly and gummily +from the ladle into the small silver box which the customer had +produced. The box finally filled, with some of the gummy, black +contents running over the edges, our gentleman withdrew himself, +having accomplished his purpose. Tucked into the security of his belt, +it was impossible to detect the contraband as he again stepped over +the boundary line which separated Chinese from European soil. + +Half an hour after our Chinese gentleman had stepped across the +boundary line into the native city, with a large supply of opium +concealed in his belt, part of which he would retail to certain +friends who had not time enough to run across into the European +concession to buy it for themselves, a young Englishman stood, by +curious coincidence, upon the same spot recently occupied by the +Chinese. He also stood with one foot upon Chinese soil, with the +other upon the soil of the Foreign Concession, and regretted, with +considerable vehemence, that at this dividing line his efforts must +cease. He had been pursuing, for perhaps a mile, the proprietor of a +certain gambling den, whom he wished to apprehend. But at the boundary +line, which the Chinese had reached before him, his prey had escaped. +He was off somewhere, safe in the devious lanes and burrows of the +native city. Therefore he stood baffled, and finally made his way back +into the Settlement, along the quais, and finally reached his rooms. +He pondered somewhat over the situation. That which was permitted on +Chinese territory, was prohibited in the foreign holdings--and the +reverse. It just depended whether you were on this side the line or +that, as to whether or not you were a lawbreaker. Morality appeared +arbitrary, determined by geographical lines--a matter of dollars and +cents. Lawson walked slowly along the Bund, turning the matter over in +his rather limited mind. Take the opium business, he considered. The +Chinese considered it harmful, and wished to abolish it. Very good. +Yet the Foreign Concessions made money out of it and insisted upon +selling it. + +Take another example, he reflected--gambling, his job. Or rather, his +job was the suppression of gambling--in the foreign holdings. The +Chinese considered it harmless, a matter of individual inclination. +Very good. But the foreigners considered it a vice, and he, Lawson, +was appointed to run to earth Chinese fan-tan houses, in the +Concession, and suppress them. Yet his own people, the foreigners, +gambled freely and uproariously in their own establishments--at the +races, and at certain houses which they maintained for their pleasure. +True, these houses were not in the Concession--for some reason the +foreigners had set their face against gambling in the Concession--yet +they maintained their establishments, their showy and luxurious +establishments, outside the Concession and upon Chinese soil. They +must pay a handsome squeeze for the privilege. Yet it was difficult to +reconcile. What was right and wrong, anyway? What was moral or +immoral, anyway? Lawson, of very limited intelligence, walked along, +sorely puzzled. Sauce for the goose, sauce for the gander--well, two +very different kinds of sauces, composed of very different +ingredients, as far as he could see. Lawson, being a young man of +limited intelligence, was greatly puzzled. He had been greatly +bothered over this for a long time. It began to look to him--very +vaguely--as if morality was not an abstract but a concrete affair. + +Just then he passed an opium shop, and considered again. That surely +was a nasty game, yet his Government encouraged it--and made money +from it. But the Chinese, on their side of the boundary line, were +doing their best to suppress it. It was very difficult for them to +make headway, however, since opium shops flourished and were +encouraged by the foreign concessions, over which the Chinese had no +control. Topsy turvy, anyway. No wonder a person like Lawson was +unable to understand it. It all resolved itself into a question of +money, after all. For after all, money was the main object of life, +whether on the part of an individual or of a government. And since all +governments were composed of individuals, and reflected the ideas of +individuals, there you were! + +By this time, young Lawson had become quite bored with life in the Far +East. The romance was gone and it offered so little variety. One day +was so like another, and every day, winter and summer, it was the same +thing or the same sorts of things, and there was an intense sameness +about it all. By day he did his work--that goes without saying--one +has to work in the Far East, that is what one comes out to do. +Otherwise, why come? Unless one is a tourist or a missionary, or a +buyer of Chinese antiques, or has had an overwhelming desire to write +a book upon international politics, a desire springing from the depths +of gross ignorance. But after all, why not such a book? It reaches, if +it reaches at all, a public still less informed, and misinformation is +as valuable as no information at all, when we desire to interfere with +the destiny of the Chinese. In his leisure moments, Lawson had tried +his hand at such a book--until he suddenly realised that he had been +in the Orient too long to make it a success. He knew just a trifle too +much about affairs, and found himself setting forth facts which would +lead to his undoing, as a minor official in the International +Settlement--if he gave them publicity. He could not afford to lose his +position. And he was by no means sure that the deep, unerring sense of +justice, the innate instinct of the masses, would rally to his +support. He had his own opinion of the ruling classes, but he trusted +the masses still less. + +It was a biting cold night, with a high wind from the north howling +down the long streets and whipping the waters of the harbour into a +fury. Junks strained at their anchors, tossed and heaved, and now and +then one broke loose from its moorings and wandered about adrift, +spreading infinite terror amongst the owners of other junks, who +feared for their safety. A cruiser or two lay in the roads, and the +French mail, and two or three Japanese cargo-boats, and half a dozen +tramp ships from the China Coast, but none of these were unduly +buffeted by the gale, which only created havoc among the junks and +sampans. Lawson's lodgings overlooked the harbour, and he laid down +his pen and moved from the table to the dark window, trying in vain to +see what was going on without. Below, the long line of the quais was +outlined by long rows of electric lights, swaying and tossing from +their poles, and illuminating the shining, wet asphalt of the Bund. He +was very, very tired of it all. So many years he had been out, and the +same monotonous round must be gone through with, over and over again, +day after day--until he made money enough to return home. And as a +salaried clerk, a court runner, whose duty it was to enforce the laws +against gambling in the Settlement, that day seemed very far distant +indeed. Whenever he heard of a fan-tan place--and he heard of them +every day--he must investigate, see that it was closed and the +keepers, if he was lucky enough to catch them, duly punished. And the +players as well. Now to eradicate gambling from amongst the Chinese is +a difficult task, futile and ridiculous, a good waste of time and +money. He wondered why his Government should attempt it. Foolish thing +for his Government to do--yet what would become of Lawson if the +undertaking were abolished? Taste tea, probably--apprentice himself to +some tea merchant, and learn all the nasty rôle of tea spitting. From +which you will see that Lawson was squeamish about some things, and +did not envy those of his friends who had become tea tasters, and who +moved all day up and down a long table, filled with rows of stupid +little cups, with an attendant China boy forever shoving a cuspidor +from one advanced position to another. And if not a tea taster, then +some commercial house would absorb his energies, which would be worse +still--close at his elbow a spectacled Chinese clicking all day upon a +dirty little abacus,--checking him up, keeping tabs on him. + +No, the work he had was better. But he was so tired of it. He leaned +himself against the dripping, cold pane, and regarded the lights +below, shining on the wet asphalt of the quais. He was thirty years +old and ten years in the East had about done for him. The East does, +for many people. Yes, he reflected bitterly, it had about done for +him. It undermines people, in some mysterious manner, and in Lawson's +case there had been so little to undermine. He had little imagination, +and could never imagine the larger possibilities of life, and what he +had missed, therefore the undermining of his character was of small +account. He was only conscious of an intense boredom, and to-night +the boredom was accentuated, because of the weather. He was too inert +to splash about in such a driving rain in quest of a friend more weary +than himself. + +If he could just get out of it all! By which, understand, he had not +the adventurous spirit of the beach-comber, the adventurer who combs +pleasure and profits from the ports of the China Coast. He wasn't that +sort. He had no desire to take a sampan and row out to the nearest +cargo-boat and ship away to the Southern Seas, and sink himself in +romance north or south of the Line. No, the mystery of the East, the +romance of foreign lands made no appeal to him. And the everlasting +monotony of his daily work, of his daily association with his few +wearied friends, clerks and suchlike, all minor and unimportant cogs +of the big machine overseas, offered him nothing. Very decidedly he +was homesick. But his tired mind came upon a blank wall--he had no +home to be homesick for. Nothing compelling, nothing to return to--all +broken up long ago, such as it was, long before he had come out to the +Orient. Yet he was longing for the sight of his native land again. +Yes, that was it--just the familiar sight of it. It offered him +nothing in the way of tie or kin, yet he was longing to see it again, +just his own native land. He was exiled in China--and he was exiled at +Home, when you got down to it--but to-night his home land drew him +with overwhelming insistence. + +What can you do, I'd like to know, when you are like this? Along the +outskirts of the Settlement stood big houses, cheerful with lights, +with home life, with all that the successful ones had brought out from +Home, to establish Home in the Orient. But Lawson had nothing to do +with these, with all the pompous, successful ones, who ignored him +completely and were unaware of his existence. They were all superior +to him, with the superiority that new-found money brings, and they +looked down upon him as a cheap court runner, told off to round up the +fan-tan playing Chinese. You see, Lawson was common--he had sprung +from nothing and was nothing. But these others, these successful ones, +they too had sprung from nothing, but out here in the Orient they had +become important. Through the possession of certain qualities which +Lawson did not possess, they had become large and prominent in the +community. They referred to themselves, among each other, as "younger +sons." Which left one to infer that they were of distinguished +lineage. But Lawson knew better, and knew it with great bitterness. +Like himself, they were indeed "younger sons"--of greengrocers. +Therefore, for that reason perhaps, they went home seldom, for at home +they were nobodies. Whereas out here--oh, out here, by reason of +certain qualities which Lawson did not possess, they were important +and pompous, and lived in big houses, with lights and guests and +servants and motors. Therefore Lawson resented them, because they +thought he was common. And he was common, he admitted bitterly, but so +were they. Only they were successful, by reason of certain qualities +which he did not possess. They ignored him, and left him alone in the +community, and it is never very good to be too much alone, especially +in the Far East. True, they provided him with his job--with his +wretchedly paid little Government job, which they maintained for no +altruistic or moral reasons. To suppress gambling amongst the +Chinese? Perhaps. Incidentally, on the surface, it looked well. Looked +well, he considered, coming from those who never helped the Chinese in +anything else. Who exploited them, in all possible ways, and +undermined them--undermined the Chinese who were pretty well done for +anyway, by nature, being Chinese. No, he reflected savagely--he had +heard the story--one night some big personage living in one of the big +houses, to which he was never invited--had given a big dinner, with +much wine and fine food and many guests and all the rest of it--and +what happened? No servants, or rather many servants without liveries +or clothing of any kind, everything having been pawned the evening +before over the fan-tan tables. Therefore he, Lawson, was employed by +Government to suppress these gambling houses, to keep the servants +from stealing and pawning their liveries, making embarrassment in the +big, foreign-style houses, making amusement and consternation and +scandal. He had happened along shortly after this affair, and so +obtained the appointment. + +Lawson leaned his forehead against the cold glass, down which the rain +poured in sheets. The lights of the French mail glimmered +intermittently through the darkness--to-morrow she would weigh anchor +and be off for Marseilles, for Home. Not that he had a home, as we +have said, but he longed for the familiar look of things, for the +crowds all speaking his own tongue, for the places he knew, the well +known street signs, and the big hoardings. And he couldn't go back. He +had not money enough to go back. Every penny of his little salary went +for living expenses and living comes high in China. To say nothing of +the passage money and the money for afterwards---- A gentle cough +behind him made him turn round in a hurry. His China-boy stood +expectantly in the doorway. + +"What is it?" demanded Lawson sharply. Ah Chang drew in his breath, +not wishing to breathe upon his superior. The indrawn, hissing noise +irritated Lawson immensely. He had been out ten years, and in that +time had never learned that Ah Chang and the others were showing him +respect, deep proofs of Oriental respect, when they sucked in their +breath with that hissing noise, to avoid breathing upon a superior. To +Lawson it was just another horrid trait, another horrid native +characteristic. + +"Man come see Master," observed Ah Chang, addressing space +impersonally. "Heap plenty important business. You see?" + +Anything for a change this dreary evening. "Very well," said Lawson, +"I see." + +In a moment or two, a tall Chinese shuffled into the room, bowing +repeatedly with hands on knees. After which he passed his long slim +hands up into the sleeves of his satin coat, and waited quietly till +the boy withdrew. He gave a swift look about the room, a glance so +hurried that it seemed impossible he could have satisfied himself that +they were alone, and then began to speak. Lawson recognised him at +once as the keeper of a house he had raided the week before, a big, +crowded place, where the police had captured a score of players and +much money. It was an important haul, a notorious den, that they had +been after for a long time. Only it changed its location so often, +moved from place to place each night, or so it seemed, that Lawson had +spent months trying to find it. It is not easy finding such places in +the crowded, native streets of the Concession, and he had stumbled +upon it by a piece of sheer luck. And the proprietor had been heavily +fined and heavily warned, yet here he stood to-night, silent, +respectful, hands up his sleeves, waiting. For once in his life, +Lawson's imagination worked. He foresaw something portentous looming +in the background of that impenetrable mind, revealed in the steady, +unblinking stare of those slanting Chinese eyes, fixed steadily and +fearlessly and patiently upon his. + +"Sit down," he commanded, with a sweep of his hand towards an upright +chair. + + * * * * * + +After his visitor had departed, Lawson stood lost in thought. He was +not angry, yet he should have been, he realised. Assuredly he should +have been angry, assuredly he should have kicked his visitor +downstairs. But as it was, he remained in deep thought, pondering over +a suggestion that had been made to him. The suggestion, stripped of +certain Oriental qualities of flowery phraseology and translated from +pidgin-English into business English, was the merest, most vague hint +of an exchange of favours. So slight was the hint, but so +overwhelming the possibilities suggested, that, as we have said, +Lawson had not kicked his visitor downstairs, but remained standing +lost in thought for several moments after his departure. As he had +stood earlier in the day, with one foot in the Foreign Concession, and +the other on Chinese soil, considering the different standards that +obtained in each, so he stood now, figuratively, on the boundary line +of an ethical problem and swayed mentally first towards one side and +then the other. The irony of it, the humour of it, appealed to him. It +seemed so insanely just--just what you might expect. He had been +asked--that was too definite a word--to forego his activities for a +few brief weeks. And during those few brief weeks he could repay +himself, week by week, on Friday nights---- + +He had been merely asked--too strong a word--the suggestion had been +merely hinted at--he balanced himself back and forth over the problem. +If his efforts during the next few weeks should prove fruitless, +possible enough, considering the wily race he was dealing with----And +in exchange, well, once a week on Friday night, he could slip outside +the boundaries of the Concession to a large, foreign gambling house +kept by and for his own people. By his own people, the Europeans, who +employed him to eradicate gambling from amongst the Chinese. Do you +wonder that he shifted himself back and forth, morally, first from +this point of view, then to that? His own people who objected to +gaming, when it involved the loss of their servants' liveries. But +they had no such scruples when it came to their own pleasure. +Therefore, for their own pleasure, careless of the inconsistency, they +had established a very fine place of their own just outside the +boundaries of the foreign Concession. Lawson had heard of the place +before--the most famous, the most notorious on the China Coast. Kept +by the son of a parson, so he had been told, a University graduate. +Once, ten years ago, he had gone there and lost a month's pay in an +evening. But now it was to be different. He could go there now, every +Friday night, and reap the reward of his inability to discover Chinese +dens within the Concession. + +For nearly an hour he remained undecided, then determined to test the +offer made him--but offer was too strong a word. And his salary was +so meagre, so abominably small. And the people in the big houses would +have none of him, they never invited him, he was left so alone, to +himself. He was intensely homesick. Therefore, still on the boundary +line, he went to the telephone and called up a certain number. In a +confident manner he asked for a limousine. After which he got into his +overcoat, muffled himself up well around the ears and nose, for the +air outside was cold with a biting north wind, and the rain still +drove slantwise in torrents. In a few moments Ah Chang announced that +the calliage had come. + +Round the earner from his lodgings on a side street and in darkness, +stood a big car with the motor puffing violently. It was a big, +handsome car, very long, and on the front seat sat two men in livery, +one of whom jumped down briskly to open the door. Lawson entered and +sank down into the soft cushions, for it was very luxurious. Then the +car moved on briskly, without any directions from himself, and he +leaned back upon the cushions and took pleasure in the luxury of it, +and of the two men in livery upon the front seat, and enjoyed the +pouring rain which dashed upon the glass, yet left him so dry and +comfortable within. "They will only think it's inconsistent--that's +all," he said to himself, "if they ever find out--which is unlikely." + +Beyond the confines of the Settlement the motor rapidly made its way, +slipping noiselessly over the smooth, wet asphalt, and then out along +the bumpy roads beyond the city limits. All was dark now, the street +lamps having been left behind with the ending of the good roads, and +the car jolted along slowly, over deep ruts. A stretch of open country +intervened between the Settlement and a native village of clustering +mud huts. Lawson, having no imagination, was not impressed with his +position. People did all sorts of things in China, just as +elsewhere--only here, in China, it was so much easier to get away with +it. His coming to-night might be considered inconsistent, he repeated +over and over to himself, but nothing more. Every one did it, he +reassured himself. + +The car stopped finally, before a pair of high, very solid black +gates, and the footman jumped off the box to open the door. He was +conscious of a small grill with a yellow face peeping out, backed by +flickering lantern light, of a rainy, windswept compound, with a shaft +of light from an open door flooding the courtyard. Then he was inside +a warm, bright anteroom, with an obsequious China-boy relieving him of +overcoat and muffler, and he became aware of many big, fur-lined +overcoats, hanging on pegs on the wall. Beyond, in the adjoining room, +were two long tables, the players seated with their backs to him, +absorbed. Only a few people were present, for the night was early. +There was no one there he knew--even had there been, he would not have +cared. He drew out a chair and seated himself confidently, while a +China-boy pushed a box of cigars towards him, a very good brand. And +behind came another boy with a tray of whisky and soda, while a third +boy carried sandwiches. It was all very well done, he thought +absently. The proprietor, being a parson's son and a University +graduate, did it very well. There was no disorder, it was all +beautifully done. He wondered what amount of squeeze the Chinese +received, for allowing such a fine place to remain undisturbed on +Chinese soil. A very big squeeze, certainly. They would surely be very +grasping, considering the warfare waged against them, upon their own +establishments, by the Europeans. It was all very interesting. Lawson +considered the matter critically, from various angles, knowing what he +knew. He sorted his chips carefully. It must pay the parson's son +well, he concluded, to be able to run such a fine place, in such +style, with so much to eat and drink and all, and with all those +motors to carry out the guests. All this in addition to the +squeeze--it must really be an enormous squeeze. And the people for +whose amusement this was established, were the people who were +employing him---- + +For a brief, fleeting second his eye rested upon the calm, +unquestioning face of the Chinese at the wheel, brother of the +proprietor of the fan-tan place he had raided a week ago. The placid +eye of the Oriental fixed his for the fraction of a second, even as he +called out the winning numbers. There was no recognition either way, +yet Lawson felt himself flushing. The wheel spun again and slowly +stopped, and he found himself gathering in thirty-five chips, raking +them in with eager fingers over the green cloth. It was all right +then, after all! + + * * * * * + +Lawson was going home. Speaking about this, some said, Well enough--he +has become quite incompetent of late. Getting stale, probably. Unable +to discover the obvious, losing his keenness. Ten years in the Far +East about does for one. But with Lawson, the situation was different. +He had become so tired of boundary lines, of perpetual swaying back +and forth from one side to the other, without conviction. Geographical +and moral concessions, wrong here, right there, had blurred his sense +of the abstract. All he was conscious of was an overwhelming desire to +leave it all and go home. And now he was going home. He was very glad. +It hurt to be so glad. He was going away from China, forever. He was +going back to his own land, where he was born, where he belonged, even +though there was no one to welcome his return. There was no roof to +receive him save an attic roof, rented for a few shillings a week. For +though he had plenty of money now, he still thought in small sums. He +was glad to be going home--the joy was painful. His chief praised him +a little at parting, and said he had done good work and hoped his +successor would do as well. Regretted his departure at this moment, +since that old fellow who kept such a notorious den was breaking loose +again, more villainous, more elusive than ever. Lawson heard this with +astonishment, with infinite regret. Wished he could have stayed to see +it ended. + +He was going home. It hurt to be so glad. In all these years he had +been so utterly lonely, so utterly miserable. His few companions came +down to the landing stage on the Bund to see him off, to wish him +luck. They were rather wistful, for they also knew loneliness. They +had tried to forget about this longing for home in the many ways of +forgetfulness that the East offered, nevertheless they were wistful. +Lawson understood, he felt great pity for them. He advised them to get +away before they were done for, for the East does for many people in +the long run. The launch, waiting to take him down river where the +steamer lay anchored, grated against the steps of the landing stage, +as if eager to be off. + +"I wish," said one of his friends, "that we had your luck--that we +too were going home." + +Lawson's heart ached for them. He had experience but no imagination. +"Yes," he said simply, "it is very good to be going Home." + + + + +CIVILIZATION + + + + +IV + +CIVILIZATION + + +I + +Maubert leaned against the counter in his wine-shop, reading a paper +that had just come to him--an official looking paper, which he held +unsteadily, unwillingly, and which trembled a little between his big, +thick fingers. Behind the counter sat Madame Maubert, knitting. Before +her, ranged neatly on the zinc covered shelf, was a row of inverted +wine glasses, three of them still dripping, having been washed after +the last customers by a hasty dip into a bucket of cold water. + +"Mobilised," said Maubert slowly. "I am mobilised--at last." Madame +Maubert looked up from her knitting. For a year now they had both been +expecting this, for the war had been going on for over a year, and +Maubert, while over age and below par in physical condition, was still +a man and as such likely to be called into the reserves. The two +exchanged glances. + +"When?" asked Madame Maubert, resuming her clicking. + +"At once, imbecile," replied her husband stolidly. "Naturally," he +continued, "when one is at last sent for, there can be no delay. I +must report at once." + +"Oh, la la," said Madame Maubert, noncommittally. + +Maubert glanced round his shop, his little wine-shop, his lucrative +little business that he had made successful. Very well. His wife must +run it alone now, as best she could. As best she could, that was +evident. She could do many things well. She must do it now while he +went forth into service of some kind--into a munition factory +probably, or perhaps near the front, as orderly to an officer, or as +sentinel, perhaps, along some road in the First Zone of the Armies. He +would not be placed on active service--he was too old for that. +Nevertheless it meant a horrid jarring out of his usual routine of +life, consequently he was angry and resentful, and there was no fine +glow of pride or patriotism or such-like feeling in his breast. Bah! +All that sort of thing had vanished from men long and long ago, after +the first few bitter weeks of war and of realisation of the meaning of +war. War was now an affair--a sordid, ugly affair, and Maubert knew it +as well as any man. Living in his backwater of a village, keeper of +the principal wine-shop of the village, his zinc counter rang every +night under emphatic fists, emphasising emphatic remarks about the +war, and the remarks were true but devoid of romance. They differed +considerably from the tone of the daily press. + +From the kitchen beyond came the clattering of dishes, and some +talking in immature, childish voices, and the insistent, piping tones +of a quite young child. They were all in there, all four of them, the +eldest twelve, the youngest four, and Maubert and his wife leaned +across the zinc counter and looked at each other. + +"It is your fault," he said slowly, with conviction. His eyes, deep +set, ugly, sunken, glared angrily into hers. "It is your fault that I +am mobilised." + +She sat still, rather bewildered, gazing at him steadily. "You wished +it!" he began again, "You coward! You trembling coward!" + +Still Madame Maubert made no sign, waiting further explanations. She +laid down her knitting and took her elbows in her hands, and by +gripping her elbows firmly, stopped the trembling he spoke of. + +"You don't understand, eh?" he went on sneeringly. "Always thinking of +yourself, of your pretty figure, how to keep yourself always here at +the bar, pretty and attractive, ready to gossip with all comers. +Nothing must interrupt that. You'd done your share, all that was +necessary. And I--poor fool--I let you! I didn't insist--I gave +in----" + +"You wish to say----?" began Madame Maubert at last, breaking her +silence. + +"Yes! To say just that!" burst out Maubert. "Just that--you coward! +When you might have--when you might have--made _this_ out of the +question for me." He shook his order for mobilisation. Again there was +a noise from the kitchen, again the sound of many young voices, and +one voice that ended in a cry, an irritated, angry, querulous howl. + +"I see," said Madame Maubert slowly, "five instead of four--five +would have made it safe for you--eh? I didn't think of that--at the +time." + +"Of your own self at the time--as always!" ground out Maubert, very +angry. He was a very big man, of the bully type, with a red neck that +swelled under his anger, or on the occasions when he had taken too +much red wine--which meant that it swelled very often and made him a +great brute, and his wife disliked him, and tried to put the zinc +counter between them or anything else that gave shelter. + +"You selfish coward!" he cried out again, and slammed his fist down, +and then raised it again and shook it at her, "You could have saved me +from this--this--being mobilised----! Five instead of four! Five +instead of four! Then I would have been exempt, no matter what +happened! You contemptible----" + +He struck at his wife, but missed her. The doorway darkened and two +soldiers entered, limping. + +"My husband is mobilised," exclaimed Madame Maubert quickly. "His +country needs him--he is rather elevated in consequence! Doubtless he +will be of the auxiliaries, where there is less danger. Discomfort, +perhaps, but less danger. Nevertheless he is regretful," she concluded +scornfully. The simple soldiers, home on leave, laughed uproariously. +They placed a few sous upon the counter and asked for wine, and drank +to Maubert solicitously. Then they all drank together, to one +another's good fortune, and to La Patrie. + + +II + +Maubert was at the Front. Near it, that is, but in the First Zone of +the Armies and shut off from communication with the rear. He was shut +off from communication with his wife and family, isolated in a little +hut standing by the roadside, his sentry box. A little box of straw +standing upright on the roadside, and with just enough room for him +inside, also standing upright. No more. Whenever he heard the whir of +a motor coming down the road, he opened his front door and stood +squarely in the middle of the roadway, waving a red flag by day or a +lantern by night, and expecting, both night and day, to be run down +and killed by the onrushing motor. He flagged the ambulances and got +cursed for it. He flagged the General's car and got cursed for it. +Impossible pieces of paper were shoved out to him to read, filled with +unintelligible hieroglyphics, which he could not read, which he made a +vain pretence of reading and then concluded were all right. After +which the car or the ambulance dashed on again, and he communed with +himself within his hut, wondering whether the car was carrying a +uniformed spy, or whether the ambulance was carrying a spy hidden +under its brown wings, beneath the seat somewhere. It was all so +perplexing and precarious, this business of sentry duty. The papers +issued by the D.E.S. were so illegible. Sometimes they were blue, +sometimes pink, and the remarks written on them were such that no one +could understand or know what they were about. People had the right to +circulate by this road or that--and when they were trying to circulate +by a route not specified in the blue or pink paper, they always +explained glibly that it was because they had missed the way, and made +the wrong turning. It was all so perplexing. Whenever he stopped their +cars, the General was always so furiously impatient, and the +ambulance drivers were always so furiously impatient, and one asked +you if you did not respect the Army of France, and the other if you +did not respect the wounded of France, if you had no pity for them, +and must delay them--altogether it was very perplexing. Maubert always +had the impression that if he failed in his duties, if he let through +a general who wore stripes and medals galore, yet who was a spy +general, that he would be courtmartialed and shot. Or if he let +through an ambulance full of wounded--apparently--yet with a spy +concealed in the body--that he would be courtmartialed and shot. +Always he had in his mind this fear of being courtmartialed and shot, +and it made him very nervous, and he did not like to tell people that +he could barely read and write. Very barely able to read and write, +and totally unable to read the hieroglyphics written on the pink and +blue papers issued down the road by Headquarters, at the D.E.S. He +felt that some one ought to know these facts about himself, these +extenuating circumstances, in case of trouble. Yet he hesitated to +give himself away. Bad as it was, there were worse jobs than sentry +duty. + +A little way down the road there was an _estaminet_, where he slept +when he could, where he spent his leisure hours, where he bought as +much wine as he could pay for. But his sentry box always confronted +him, which leaked when it rained, and the wind blew through it, and on +certain days, when there was much travel by the road, he hardly spent +a moment inside it but was always standing in the mud and wind of the +highway, waving his flag, and stopping impatient, snorting motors. And +always pretending that he could read the pink and blue papers, angrily +thrust out for his inspection. Too great a responsibility for one who +could barely read and write. + +Came the time, eventually, for his leave. Five days permission. One +day to get to Paris. One day from Paris to his province. One day in +his province at home with his wife. One day back to Paris, one day to +get back to his sentry box in the First Zone of the Armies. Not much +time, all considered. He bought a bottle of wine at the _estaminet_, +and got aboard the train for Paris. Somewhere along the route came a +long stop, and he bought another bottle of wine--forty centimes. +Another stop, and another bottle of wine. He thought much of his wife +during these long hours of the journey--thoughts augmented and made +glowing by three bottles of wine. She wasn't so bad, after all. + +The Gare Montparnasse was reached, and he got off, dizzily, to change +trains. He knew, vaguely, that to get to his province in the interior, +he must first somehow get to the Gare du Nord. There was a Métro +entrance somewhere about the Gare Montparnasse and he tried to find +it. The Métro would take him to the Gare du Nord. No good. Such crowds +of people all about, and they called him Mon Vieux, and pulled him +this way and that, laughing with him, offering him cigarettes and +happy comments, received by a brain in which three bottles of wine +were already fermenting. Thus it happened that he missed the Métro +entrance, and instead of finding a métro to take him to the Gare du +Nord, he missed the entrance, turned quite wrong, and walked up the +middle of the rue de la Gaiétč. And because of the three bottles of +wine within him--entirely within his head--he walked light-heartedly +up the rue de la Gaiétč, with his helmet tossed backwards on his +shaggy head, his heavy kit swinging in disordered fashion from his +shoulders, his mouth open, shouting meaningless things to the +passers-by, and his steps very short, jerky and unsteady. Thus it +happened, that many people, seeing him in this condition, shuddered, +and asked what France had come to, when she must place her faith in +such men as that. Other people, however, laughed at him, and made way +for him, or closed in on him and squeezed his arm, and whispered +things into his ears. Back and forth he ricochetted along the narrow +street, singing and swinging, mouth open, with strange, happy cries +coming from it. Some laughed and said what a pity, and others laughed +and said how perfectly natural and what could you expect. + +Presently down the street came a big, double decked tramcar, and +Maubert stood in front of the tramcar, refusing to give way. It should +have presented a blue paper to him--or a pink paper--anyway, there he +stood in front of it, asking for its permission to circulate, and as +it had no permission, it stopped within an inch of running over him, +while the conductor leaned forward shouting curses. Then it was that +a firm but gentle hand inserted itself within Maubert's arm, while a +firm but gentle voice asked Maubert to be a good boy and come with +her. Maubert was very dazed, and also perplexed that he had not +received a paper from the big, double-decked tramcar, which obviously +had no right to circulate without such permission, sanctioned by +himself. He was gently drawn off the tracks, by that unknown arm, +while the big tramcar proceeded on its way without permission. It was +all wrong, yet Maubert felt himself drawn to one side of the roadway, +felt himself still propelled along by that gentle but firm arm, and +looked to see who was leading him. He was quite satisfied by what he +saw. The three bottles of wine made him very uncritical, but they also +inflamed certain other faculties. To these other faculties his +befogged mind gave quick response. To Hell with the tramcar, papers or +no papers, pink or blue. Also, although not quite so emphatically, he +relinquished all thoughts of arriving at the Gare du Nord, and of +finding a train to take him home to his province, where his wife +lived. The reasons that made him desire his wife, were quite +satisfied with the gentle pressure on his arm. Thus it happened that +big Maubert, shaggy and dirty and drunk, reeling down the rue de la +Gaiétč, very suddenly gave up all idea of finding his way to his +province in the interior. + +Never mind about those three days in Paris. Maubert was quite sober +when he got on the train again at Montparnasse. He did not regret his +larger vacation. He had had a very good permission, take it all in +all. + + +III + +At about the time that Maubert found himself mobilised and summoned +into the reserves, a further mobilisation of subjects of the French +Empire was taking place in certain little known, outlying dominions of +the "Empire." I should have said Republic or even Democracy. The +result, however, is all the same. In certain outlying portions of the +mighty Empire or Republic or Democracy, as you will, further +mobilisation of French subjects was taking place, although in these +outlying dominions the forces were not mobilised but volunteered. +That is to say, the headsman or chief of a certain village, lying +somewhere between the Equator and ten degrees North latitude, was +requested by those in authority to furnish so many volunteers. The +word being thus passed round, volunteers presented themselves, +voluntarily. Among them was Ouk. Ouk knew, having been so informed by +the headsman of his village, that failure to respond to this +opportunity meant a voluntary sojourn in the jungle. Ouk hated the +jungle. All his life he had lived in terror of it, of the evil forces +of the jungle, strangling and venomous, therefore he did not wish to +take refuge amongst them, for he knew them well. Of the two +alternatives, the risks of civilization seemed preferable. +Civilization was an unknown quantity, whereas the jungle was familiar +to himself and his ancestors, and the fear transmitted by his +ancestors was firmly emplanted in his mind. Therefore he had no +special desire to sojourn amongst the mighty forces of the forest, +which he knew to be overwhelming. At that time, he did not know that +the forces of civilization were equally sinister, equally +overwhelming. All his belated brain knew, was that if he failed to +answer the call of those in authority, he must take refuge in the +forests. Which was sure death. It was sure death to wander +defenceless, unarmed, in the twilight gloom of noon day, enveloped by +dense overgrowth, avoiding venomous serpents and vile stinging insects +by day, and crouching by night from man-eating tigers. It presented +therefore, no pleasant alternative--no free wandering amidst +beautiful, tropical trees and vines heavy with luscious fruits--there +would be no drinking from running streams in pleasant, sunlit +clearings. Ouk knew the jungle, and as the alternative was +civilization, he chose civilization which he did not yet know. +Therefore he freely offered himself one evening, coming from his +native village attired in a gay sarong, a peaked hat, and nothing +more. He entered a camp, where he found himself in company with other +volunteers, pressed into the service of civilization by the same +pressure that had so appealed to himself. There were several hundred +of them in this camp, all learning the ways of Europe, and learning +with difficulty and pain. The most painful thing, perhaps, were the +coarse leather shoes they were obliged to wear. Ouk's feet had been +accustomed to being bare--clad, on extreme occasions, with pliant +straw sandals. He garbed them now, according to instructions, in hard, +coarse leather shoes, furnished by those in authority, which they told +him would do much to protect his sensitive feet against the cold of a +French winter. Ouk had no ideas as to the rigours of a French winter, +but the heavy shoes were exceedingly painful. In exchange for his gay +sarong, they gave him a thick, ill fitting suit of khaki flannel, in +which he smothered, but this, they likewise explained to him, would do +much to protect him from the inclemency of French weather. Thus wound +up and bound up, and suffering mightily in the garb of European +civilization, Ouk gave himself up to learn how to protect it. The +alternative to this decision, being as we have said, an alternative +that he could not bring himself to face. + +Three months of training being accomplished, Ouk and his companions +were by that time fitted to go forth for the protection of great +ideals. They were the humble defenders of these ideals, and from time +to time the newspapers spoke in glowing terms, of their sentimental, +clamorous wish to defend them. Even in these remote, unknown regions, +somewhere between the Equator and ten degrees North latitude, +volunteers were pressing forward to uphold the high traditions of +their masters. Ouk and his companions knew nothing of these sonorous, +ringing phrases in the papers. They knew only of the alternative, the +jungle. Time came and the day came when they were all ushered forth +from their training camp, packed into a big junk, and released into +the stormy tossings of the harbour, there to await the arrival of the +French Mail, that was to convey them to Europe. The sun beat down hot +upon them, in their unaccustomed shoes and khaki, the harbour waves +tossed violently, and the French Mail was late. Eventually it arrived, +however, and they all scrambled aboard, passing along a narrow +gangplank from which four of them slipped and were drowned in the sea. +But four out of five hundred was a small matter, quite insignificant. + +When the French Mail arrived at Saigon, Ouk was able to replenish his +supply of betel nut and sirra leaves, buying them from coolies in +bobbing sampans, which sampans had been allowed to tie themselves to +the other side of the steamer. At Singapore also he bought himself +more betel nut and sirra leaves, but after leaving Singapore he was +unable to replenish his stock, and consequently suffered. Every one +with him, in that great company of volunteers, also suffered. It was +an unexpected deprivation. The ship ploughed along, however, the +officers taking small notice of Ouk and his kind--indeed, they only +referred to Ouk by number, for no one of those in authority could +possibly remember the outlandish names of these heathen. Nor did their +names greatly matter. + +Time passed, the long voyage was over, and Ouk landed at Marseilles. +In course of time he found himself placed in a small town in one of +the provinces, the very town from which Maubert had been released to +go to the Front. Thus it happened that there were as many men in that +town as had been taken away from it, only the colour and the race of +the men had changed. The nationality of all of them, however, was the +same--they were all subjects of the mighty French Empire or Democracy, +and in France race prejudice is practically nil. Therefore Ouk, who +worked in a munition factory, found himself regarded with curiosity +and with interest, though not with prejudice. Thus it happened that +Madame Maubert found herself gazing at Ouk one evening, from behind +the safe security of her zinc covered bar. Curiosity and interest were +in her soul, but no particular sense of racial superiority. Ouk and +some companions, speaking together in heathen jargon, were seated +comfortably at one of the little yellow tables of the café, learning +to drink wine in place of the betel nut of which they had been +deprived. All through the day they worked in one of the big factories, +but in the evenings they were free, and able to mix with civilization +and become acquainted with it. And they became acquainted with it in +the bar of Madame Maubert, who served them with yellow wine, and who +watched, from her safe place behind the zinc covered counter, the +effect of yellow wine upon yellow bodies which presumably contained +yellow souls--if any. + +All this made its impression upon Ouk. All this enforced labour and +civilization and unaccustomed wine. So it happened that one evening +Ouk remained alone in the bar after his companions had gone, and he +came close up to the zinc covered counter behind which was seated +Madame Maubert, and he regarded her steadily. She too, regarded him +steadily, and beheld in his slim, upright figure something which +attracted her. And Ouk beheld in Madame Maubert something which +attracted him. Seated upon her high stool on the other side of the +counter, she towered above him, but he felt no awe of her, no sense of +her superiority. True, she looked somewhat older than the girls in his +village, but on the other hand, she had a pink and white skin, and Ouk +had not yet come in contact with a pink and white skin. Nor had Madame +Maubert ever seen, close to, the shining, beautiful skin of a young +Oriental. After all, were they not both subjects of the same great +nation, were they not both living and sacrificing themselves for the +preservation of the same ideals? Madame Maubert had given up her man. +Ouk had given up--heaven knows what--the jungle! Anyway, such being +the effect of yellow wine upon Ouk, and such being the effect of Ouk +on Madame Maubert, they both leaned their elbows upon opposite sides +of the zinc counter that evening and looked at each other. For a whole +year Madame Maubert's husband had been away from her, and for nearly a +whole year Ouk had been away from the women of his kind, and suddenly +they realised, gazing at each other from opposite sides of the zinc +covered bar, that Civilization claimed them. Each had a duty to +perform towards its furtherance and enhancement. + + +IV + +Let us now go back to Maubert, standing for long months within his +straw covered hut, or standing in the roadway in front of it, +demanding passports. Every day, for many months past, he remembered +his misspent permission and cursed the way he had passed it. Passed it +in so futile a manner. Things might have been so different. His +companions often chaffed him about it, chaffed him rudely. For he had +never seen fit to tell them that he had not gone down to his home in +the provinces, as they thought he had, but had been ensnared by some +woman in Paris who had pulled him away from a passing tram on the rue +de la Gaiétč. One day the _vaguemestre_ brought him a letter. He was +very dizzy when he read it. Everything swam round. Rage and relief +combated together in his limited brain. Rage and relief--rage and +relief! He could take his letter to the authorities and demand his +release--or---- + +For now he had five children, had Maubert. No one would question it. +In his hand lay the letter of his wife. Five children. The fifth just +born. That meant release from the service of his country. She said she +was sorry. That she had done it for him. He would understand. But +Maubert did not understand. He remembered his misspent permission, and +the thought of it nauseated him. She, too. The thought of it nauseated +him. Certainly he did not understand. + +On the other hand, the authorities had on their books the date of his +permission. He looked again at the letter of his wife. The dates +coincided admirably. He had but to go to his superior officer and show +him the letter of his wife, announcing the birth of their fifth child. +Then he would be free. Free from the service of his country, the +hated service, the examining of passports presented by a rushing +General, by a rushing ambulance, by some rushing motor that was +perhaps carrying a spy. + +He so hated it all. But now, more than anything else, he hated his +wife. He would accept his release and go home and kill her. He +wouldn't be free any more if he did that, however. He argued it out +with himself. So he couldn't kill her. He must accept it. If he +accepted his release from the service of his country, he must accept +it on her terms. He spent a long day in the rain and the wind, +thinking it out. But he thought it out at last. He would accept her +terms, obtain his release, go home and see--and then decide. + +He told his Colonel about it, and his Colonel chaffed him, and looked +over some papers, and finally set in motion the mechanism by which he +was finally set free from the service of his country. It took some +weeks before this was accomplished, but it was finally done. And when +he arrived in Paris, coming down from his post in the First Zone of +the Armies, he was painfully sober. No more wine that day for him. No +more wine, bought at the _estaminet_ before he left, or bought during +the long journey down to Paris. No more zig-zagging up the rue de la +Gaiétč. He found the Métro entrance at the exit of the Gare +Montparnasse, took the train, and arrived, shortly afterwards, at the +Gare du Nord, very sober. Very sober and angry. + +And when he reached his home in the provinces, he was still sober and +still angry. Nor did he know what he should do. He did not know +whether he should kill his wife or not. If he did, he must go back to +the Front. And he hated the Front. He hated his duties, sentry duty, +in the First Zone of the Armies. He could not report to his Colonel +again, and say, "Give me back my sentry box--let me serve my +country--that fifth child is not mine!" He was in a tight place, +surely. But at his home, his mood changed, his wife was very gentle. +She said she had been wrong. + +"Ouk is dead," she said. "All those poor little men who come from the +Tropics die very soon in our cold, damp weather. They cannot stand it. +The khaki flannels we give them do not warm them. There is not much +wool in them. The cold penetrates into their bones. They catch cold +and die, all of them, sooner or later. It is an extravagance, +importing them." + +Therefore he was mollified. "For your sake," said his wife. Maubert +looked down at the fifth child lying in its cradle. The child that +brought him release from the service of his country--release from +sentry duty, from looking at hastily shoved out, unintelligible +passports. + +"For your sake," repeated his wife, slipping her arm through his arm. +"Very well," said Maubert stiffly. All the same, he thought to +himself, the child certainly looks like a Chinese. + + + + +MISUNDERSTANDING + + + + +V + +MISUNDERSTANDING + + +I + +They say out here, that one can never understand the native mind and +its workings. So primitive are they, these quiet, gentle, +brown-skinned men and women, crouching over their compound fires in +the evening, lazily driving the lumbering buffaloes in the rice +fields, living their facile life, here on the edge of the jungle. So +primitive are they, these gentle, simple forest people. + +In the towns--oh, but they are not made for the towns, they are so +strangely out of place in the towns which the foreigner has contrived +for himself on the borders of their brown, sluggish rivers, towns +which he has created by pushing backward for a little the jungle, +while he builds his pink and yellow bungalows beneath the palm trees, +and spaces them between the banana trees, along straight tracks which +he calls roads. Wide, red roads, which the natives have made under +his direction, and deep, cool bungalows, which the natives have made +under his direction. Altogether, they are his towns, the foreigners' +towns, and he has constructed them so that they may remind him of his +home, ten thousand miles across the world. + +It is not necessary to try to fancy the natives in these foreign +towns. They mean nothing to him, and are far distant from his +tendencies and desires. His own villages are different--thatched huts, +erected on bamboo piles, roofed with palm leaves. They cluster close +together along the winding brown rivers, on the edge of the jungle. +Mounted very high on their stilts of bamboo, crowding each other very +close together, compound touching compound for the sake of +companionship and safety. Safety from the wild beasts of the forests, +those that cry by night, and howl and prowl and kill; safety from the +serpents, whose sting is death, shelter, protection, from all the +dark, lurking dangers of the jungle--the evil, mighty forests, at +whose edge, between it and the winding yellow rivers, they build +themselves their homes. Yes, but life is very easy here, just the +same. A little stirring of the rich earth in the clearings, and food +springs forth. A little paddling up the stream or down, in a pirogue +or a sampan, a net strung across the sluggish waters, and there is +food again. A little wading in shallow, sunlit pools, a swift strike +with a trident, and a fish is caught. And fruit hangs heavy from the +trees. Life is very easy in these countries. And with the coming of +the sudden sunset of the Tropics, the evening fires are lighted in the +compounds and there is gathering together, with song and laughter, +rest and ease. So as life is very facile in the jungle, love of money +is unknown. Why money--what can it mean? Why toil for something which +one has no use for, cannot spend? Just enough, perhaps, to bargain +with the white man for some simple need--to buy a water buffalo, +maybe, for ploughing in the rice fields. No more than that--it's not +needed. And the very little coins, the very, very little coins, two +dozen of them making up the white man's penny, just enough of these +left over to stick upon the lips of Buddha, at the corners, with a +little gum. Thus a prayer to Buddha, and the offering of a little +coin, stuck with resin to the god's lips, as an offering. That is +all. Life is very simple, living in one's skin. + +I have said all this so that you might understand. Only, remember, no +one understands, quite, the workings of the savage mind. And these of +whom I write are gentle savages, and their way of life is simple, +primitive and crude. Only, upon contact with the white man, some of +this has been obliged to wear off a little. They have had to become +adaptive, to assume a little polish, as it were. But at heart, after +these many years of contact, they are still simple. They are mindless, +gentle, squatting bare backed in the shade, chewing, spitting, betel +nut. Chewing as the ox chews, thinking as the ox thinks. Gentle brown +men and women, touching the edge of the most refined civilization of +the western world. + +The tale jerks here--why shouldn't it? The Lieutenant told me this bit +of it himself--he lives in the foreigners' town, and keeps order +there. There was a revolt last year. But that is too dignified a word, +it assumes too much, it assumes something that there never was. For +revolt signifies organisation, and there wasn't any. It signifies a +general understanding, and there wasn't any. It signifies great +numbers involved, and there were no great numbers. How could there +have been any of these things, said the Lieutenant, among a scattered +people, scattered through the jungle, on the edges of the warm, mighty +forests, at the headwaters of the great winding rivers which penetrate +inland for a thousand miles. No, it was in no sense a revolt, which is +too strong a word. They had no organisation, they could not +communicate with each other, had they wished. Distances were great, +and they could not read or write. They had never been molested--never +schooled. It was better so. Education is no good to a squatter in the +shade. No, it was rather an uprising of a handful of them in the town +of the white man, the town of red earth streets, with pink and yellow +bungalows, cool and sheltered under spreading palms. The town where +many foreigners lived, who walked about listlessly in their white +linen clothes, ghastly pale, with dark rings beneath their eyes, who +stifled in the heat and thought of Home, ten thousand miles away. It +all happened suddenly, no one knows how or why. But one morning, just +after the sun rose in his red, burning splendour, there crept into the +town a few hundred men. They came in by this red street, with the +statue of the Bishop at the top--the bronze statue of the Bishop who +had lived and worked and died here years ago. They came by the red +street leading past the bazaar, the model market, fashioned, with +improvements, like the one at home. They came by the red street +leading past the Botanical Garden, the gardens where at the close of +scorching days the women of the white man, ghastly white, used to +drive before sunset, to breathe a little after the stifling day. They +came along the quais, where the white man's ships found harbour. +Altogether, creeping in on many roads, coming in their fours and +fives, they made about three hundred. And they were in revolt, if you +please, against the representatives of the most refined civilization +of the western world! Just three hundred, no more. Not a ripple of it, +apparently, spread backwards to the jungle, to the millions inland, in +the forests. + +What happened? Oh, it was all over in an hour! The Lieutenant heard +them coming--his orderly ran in with the word--and he was out in an +instant with eight men. Eight soldiers armed with rifles. It was quite +amusing. And opposed to them, that mob, in their peaked hats, in their +loin cloths or their sarongs, bare to waist as usual. Poor fools! +Fancy--not a gun among them! They thought they were invisible! The +geomancer had told them that, and they believed him. Carried at their +head a flag, some outlandish, homemade thing, with unknown characters +upon it. Well, it was all over in a moment--those eight men armed with +guns saw to that. Short work--thirty wounded, fourteen killed. The +rest scattered, but before the day was out they had them--had them in +two hours, for a fact. All disarmed, and the Lieutenant had their +weapons. Come to see them at his bungalow, if we'd time? Interesting +lot of trophies, most unique collection. Quite unequalled. Homemade +spears, forged and hammered, stuck on bamboo poles. Homemade swords, +good blades, too, for all their crudeness. Must have taken months to +make them, fashioned slyly, on the quiet. Killing weapons, meant to +kill. Swords like the Crusaders, only cased in bamboo scabbards. +Funny lot--come to see them if we'd time. Nothing like it, a unique +collection. And the flag--red cotton flag, all blood stained, with +some device in corner, just barbaric. Poor fools! Flag pathetic? +Pathetic? Heavens, no! + +Well, they stamped it out very thoroughly, at four o'clock that +afternoon. It finished at the race course, for there is always a race +course where the white man rules. Word went round, as it always goes +round in times like this, and just before sunset the whole native +population was out to see the white man's method. No one hindered them +or feared them, for apparently they had no hand in this uprising, and +moreover, were unarmed. They were full of curiosity to see what they +should see. Silently they trooped out in hundreds through the shady, +palm bordered, red streets of the town, padding barefoot past the +sheltered bungalows, past the bronze statue of the Bishop, out to the +edge of the town. All the Tropics was there, moving silently, flowing +gently, in their hundreds, to the race course. Dark skins, yellow +skins, eyes straight, eyes slanting, black hair cut short, or worn in +pigtails, or in top knots, or in chignons; bare bodies, bare legs, or +legs clothed in brilliant sarongs or in flapping pyjamas--all the +costumes of all the countries bordering the Seven Seas streamed +outward from the town, very silent. And as the sun blazed low to his +setting; all the Tropics waited to see what the white man would do. + +They did it very cleverly, the white men. For they called upon the +native troops to do it for them, to see if they were loyal. There were +thirty-four prisoners all told, and they walked along with hands bound +behind them, looking very stupid. Even as they walked along, at that +moment the wife of the Lieutenant was showing their crude spears to +friends--she gave tea to her friends in the pink bungalow, and +exhibited the captured weapons, but the Lieutenant was not there--he +was at the race course, supervising. + +They led them forward in groups of six, and they were faced by six +native soldiers armed with rifles. And just behind the six native +soldiers stood six soldiers of the white troops, also with rifles. And +when the word was given to fire, if the native troops had not fired +upon their brothers, the white troops would have fired upon both. It +was cleverly managed, and very well arranged. But there was no hitch. +Six times the native troops fired upon batches of naked, kneeling men, +and six times the white soldiers stood behind them with raised rifles, +in case of hesitation. Only the crack of the rifles broke the +stillness. The dense crowd of natives gathered close, standing by in +silence. Giving no sign, they watched the retribution of the white +man. The sun beat down upon them, in their wide hats, their +semi-nakedness, attired in their sombre or brilliant cotton skirts. +When it was over, they dispersed as quietly as they had gathered. The +silent crowds walked back from the race course, the pleasure ground of +the dominant race, and drifted along the red streets of the town, back +again to the holes and burrows from which they had come. + + +II + +A year later, nearly. The Lieutenant who had quelled the uprising, +with a handful of men armed with rifles of the latest device, as +against three hundred natives armed with spears, had been decorated +and was very proud. He also continued to exhibit his unique collection +of arms to all comers, when the mail boats came in. Nor did he see +their pathos. And in the jungles of the interior, where most of them +lived, the natives never knew of the existence of the little red flag, +and would not have understood if they had been told. Why? The white +men were kind and considerate. Easy and indulgent masters who in no +wise interfered with life as lived in the jungle. But with the native +troops who had fired upon their brothers it was different. + +Thus it happened that the small coastwise steamer, going her usual +cruise among the islands and along the coast of one of the Seven Seas, +carried unusual freight. Being a very little boat, with a light cargo, +she was sometimes severely buffeted by the northeast monsoon, which +was blowing at that time of the year. On these days, when the monsoon +was strongest, the few passengers she carried were not comfortable. On +other days, when she found calm weather among the islands, it was very +pleasant. She dropped anchor from time to time in little bays +bordered with cocoanut tree, and from the bays emerged sampans with +vivid painted eyes on their prows, seeking out the steamer and the +bales of rice she carried, or the mails. The mails, consisting of half +a dozen letters for each port, were tied up in big canvas sacks, +sealed with big government seals, and the white men who lived on these +remote, desert islands, would come themselves to fetch them. They +paddled themselves to the steamer in pirogues or in sampans, white +faced, anćmic, apathetic, devoid of vitality. The great, overwhelming +heat of the Tropics, the isolation of life, in unknown islands in the +southern seas, makes one like that. Yet they were "making money" on +their island plantations of rubber or cocoanut, or expecting to make +it. It takes seven years of isolation in the tropic seas, after one +has started a plantation--and even then, many things may happen---- + +So the little steamer stopped here and there, at little, unknown bays, +at places not mentioned in the guide books, and from the beautiful, +desolate islands came out sampans and junks, with the lonely figure of +a white man sitting despondent among the naked rowers, eager to get +his letters from home. It was his only eagerness, but very dull and +listless at that. At night, the islands loomed large and mysterious in +the darkness, while now and then a single ray of light from some light +house, gleaming from some lost, mysterious island of the southern +seas, beamed with a curious constancy. There were dangerous rocks, +sunken reefs. And always the soft wind blew, the soft, enervating wind +of the Tropics. + +On the fore part of the little steamer, that wound its way with +infinite care, slowly, among the sunken rocks, the shoals and +sandbars, sat a company of fifty men. Natives, such as you might see +back there in the jungle, or harnessed to the needs of civilization, +bearing the white man in rickshaws along the red streets of the little +town. These, however, were native troops--the rickshaw runner used in +another way. They were handcuffed together, sitting in pairs on the +main deck. In the soft, moist wind, they eat rice together, with their +free hands, out of the same bowl. Very dirty little prisoners, clad in +khaki, disarmed, chained together in pairs. A canvas was stretched +over that part of the deck, which sheltered them from the glaring sun, +and prevented the odour of them from rising to the bridge, a little +way above, where stood the Captain in yellow crępe pyjamas. For they +were dirty, handcuffed together like that, unexercised, unwashed. They +would be put ashore in three days, however, to work on the roads, +government roads. Notoriously good roads, the colony has too. Their +offense? Grave enough. With the European world at war, this colony, +like those of all the other nations, had called upon its native +troops. The native troops had been loyal, had responded, had +volunteered to go when told they must. Proof of that? Forty thousand +of them at the moment helping in this devastating war. It was a good +record--it spoke well---- + +Only this handful had refused. Refused absolutely, flagrantly defiant. +Just this little group, out of all the thousands. So they were being +sent off somewhere, handcuffed, to make roads. Prisoners for three +years to make roads, useless roads that led nowhere. Good roads, +excellent, for traffic that never was. Some said they were the +soldiers who had been forced to kill their brothers a while +back--after that paltry revolution. One didn't know. They are stupid, +these natives. Chewing betel nut all day, their mouths a red, bloody +gash across their faces. + +The ship stopped finally in some bay. Then a big, unwieldy junk put +out from shore, and tacked back and forth, for two hours, against a +strong head wind, coming to rest finally against the steamer's side. +Two big iron rods were put out, with a padlock at each end, and places +for twenty-five feet to be locked in. Then came European guards, with +rifles, and revolvers in big leather cases hanging at their sides. The +prisoners were very docile, but it was well to take precautions. When +all was ready, the prisoners filed out slowly and with difficulty, +because of their chains, and descended the gangway ladder to the +uncouth junk, with its painted, staring eyes. After that, the junk +slowly detached itself from the ship, unrolled its ragged matting +sails, and made towards the mainland with the docile cargo. + +The third passenger leaned over the rail. A sweet breeze blew in from +the island, a scented breeze, laden with the heavy scents of the +Tropics. For three years, he said, they would labour at the futile +roads, the roads that led nowhere. Really, commented the third +passenger, it was impossible to understand the Oriental mind. They had +chosen this--this isolation, this cutting off from home and friends, +rather then go to Europe to serve the race that had treated them so +well. Afraid? Oh, no--too ignorant to be afraid. Brave enough when it +came to that--just obstinate. Just refused to serve, to do as they +were told. Refused to serve, to fight for the race that had treated +them so well, by and large, take it all in all. That had built them +towns and harbours, brought in ships and trade--had done everything, +according to best western standards. It was incomprehensible--truly it +was difficult to fathom the Oriental mind! The revolt a year ago? Oh, +nothing! + +The big junk with the staring eyes carried them off, the supine, +listless prisoners, handcuffed together, foot-locked to an iron bar. +They must build roads for three years. Somewhere at the back of those +slow minds was a memory of the race course, of the brothers they had +slain. Perhaps. Who knows. But the Occidental mind does not understand +the Oriental mind, and it was good to be rid of them, dirty little +creatures, who smelled so bad under the awning of the main deck. + +The anchor chain wound in, grating link on link. The soft, sweet wind +blew outward from the cocoanut trees, from the scented earth of the +island. The third passenger watched the junk disappear in the shadows +of the warm night, then he went below to get another drink. + + + + +PRISONERS + + + + +VI + +PRISONERS + + +Mercier was writing his report for the day. He sat at a rattan table, +covered with a disorderly array of papers, ledgers and note books of +various sorts, and from time to time made calculations on the back of +an old envelope. He finally finished his work, and pushing back his +chair, lighted a cigarette. Unconsciously, he measured time by +cigarettes. One cigarette, and he would begin work. One cigarette and +he would start on the first paragraph. One cigarette, to rest after +the first paragraph before beginning the second, and so on. It was +early in the morning, but not early for a morning in the Tropics. +Already the sun was creeping over the edge of the deep, palm-shaded +verandah, making its way slowly across the wooden floor, till it would +reach him, at his table, in a very short time. And as it slowly crept +along, a brilliant line of light, so the heat increased, the moist, +stagnant heat, from which there was no escape. Outside some one was +pulling the punkah rope, and the great leaves of linen, attached to +heavy teak poles, swayed back and forth over his head, stirring +slightly the dense, humid atmosphere. + +Mercier was a young man, not over thirty. He had come out to the East +three years ago, to a minor official post in the Penal Settlement, +glad of a soft position, of easy work, of an opportunity to see life +in the Tropics. At a port on the mainland, he transshipped from the +liner to a little steamer, which two days later dropped anchor in the +blue bay of his future home. At that time, he was conscious of being +intensely pleased at the picture spread before him. Long ago, in +boyhood, he had cherished romantic dreams of the Tropics, of islands +in southern seas, of unknown, mysterious life set in gorgeous, remote +setting. It had all appealed to his fancy, and then suddenly, after +many long years, sordid, difficult years, the opportunity had come for +the realisation of his dreams. He had obtained a post as minor +official in one of the colonies of his country--overseas in the Far +East--and he gladly gave up his dull, routine life at home, and came +out to the adventures that awaited him. The island, as he saw it for +the first time, was beautiful. Steep hills, rocky and mountainous, +rose precipitately out of the blue waters, and the rising sun glinted +upon the topmost peaks of the hills and threw their deep shadows down +upon the bay, and upon the group of yellow stucco bungalows that +clustered together upon the edge of the water, upon the narrow strip +of land lying between the sea and the sheer sides of the backing +mountains. The bay was a crescent, almost closed, and a coral reef ran +in an encircling sweep from the headland beyond, and the translucent, +sparkling waters of the harbour seemed beautiful beyond belief. His +heart beat wildly when for the first time he beheld his new home--it +exceeded in beauty anything that he had ever dreamed of. What mattered +it whether or no it was a Penal Settlement for one of the great, +outlying colonies of his mother country, two days' sail from the +nearest port on the mainland, the port itself ten thousand miles from +home. It was beautiful to look upon--glorious to look upon, and it was +glorious to think that the next few years of his life would be spent +amidst such surroundings. The captain of the coasting steamer told him +it would be lonely--he laughed at the idea. How could one be lonely +amidst such beauty as that! His thirsty soul craved beauty, and here +it was before him, marvellous, complete, the island a gem sparkling in +the sunlight, veiled in the shadow of an early morning. Lying +somewhere, all this beauty, one degree north or south of the Equator! + +No, assuredly, he would not be lonely! Were there not many families on +the island, the officials and their families, a good ten or fifteen of +them? Besides, there was his work. He knew nothing of his work, of his +duties. But in connection with the prisoners, of course--and there +were fifteen hundred prisoners, they told him, concentrated on those +few square miles of island, off somewhere in the Southern Seas, a few +miles north or south of the Equator. He was anxious to see the +prisoners, the unruly ones of the colony. Strange types they would +appear to his conventional, sophisticated eyes. He saw them in +imagination--yellow skins, brown skins, black skins, picturesque, +daring, desperate perhaps. The anchor splashed overboard into the +shallow water, and the small steamer drifted on the end of the chain, +waiting for a boat to come out from shore. With the cessation of the +steamer's movement, he felt the heat radiate round him, in an +overpowering wave, making him feel rather sick and giddy. Yet it was +only six o'clock in the morning. Before the boat arrived from shore, +the sun had passed over the highest peak of the mountains and was +glaring down with full power upon the cluster of hidden bungalows, the +edges and ends of which bungalows protruded a little from the shelter +of vines and palm trees. White clad men came down to the beach, and a +woman or two appeared on the verandahs, and then disappeared back into +the verandahs, while the men came down to the water's edge alone. The +rowboat was pulled ashore by strong rowers, dark skinned, brawny men, +and as the boat neared the beach, other dark skinned brawny men took a +carrying chair and splashed out to meet the boat, inviting him by +gestures to step into the chair and be carried ashore. He forgot the +heat in the novelty of this new sensation--being carried ashore in a +chair, with the clear, transparent water beneath him, and wavy sands, +shell studded, over which the bearers walked slowly, with precision. +And then came his first hours on shore. How calmly they had welcomed +him, those white faced, pale men, with the deep circles beneath their +eyes. They looked at him with envy, it seems, as a being newly come +from contact with civilization, and they looked upon him with pity, as +a being who had deliberately chosen to shut himself off from +civilization, for a period of many years. He was taking the place of +one who was going home--and the man was in a desperate hurry to get +away. He looked ill, withal he was so fat, for he was very fat and +flabby, extraordinarily white, with circles beneath his puffy eyes +blacker and more marked than those on the other faces. The departing +official shook hands hurriedly with Mercier, and kissed his old +companions good-bye hurriedly upon both cheeks, and then hastened into +the chair, to get to the rowboat, to get to the steamer as soon as +possible. The other officials on the beach commented volubly on his +good fortune--ah, but he had the chance! What chance! What luck! What +fortune! They themselves had no luck, they must remain here how long, +ah, who knew how long! They all stood there upon the beach watching +the departing one until he reached the steamer, drifting idly at the +length of her anchor chain. + +Then they remembered Mercier again, and surrounded him, not eagerly, +listlessly, and asked him to the office of the Administrator, to have +a cup of champagne. A cup of champagne, at a little after six in the +morning. As they walked slowly up the beach, Mercier spoke of the +beauty of the place, the extraordinary beauty of the island. They +seemed not to heed him. They smiled, and reminded him that he was a +newcomer, and that such was the feeling of all newcomers and that it +would soon pass. And in a body, ten of them, they conducted Mercier to +the bureau of the Administrator, a tired, middle aged men, who shook +hands without cordiality, and ordered a boy to bring a tray with a +bottle and glasses and mouldy biscuits, and they all sat together and +drank without merriment. It was dark in the Administrator's office, +for the surrounding verandah was very wide and deep, and tall bamboos +grew close against the edges of the railing, and a little way behind +the bamboos grew banana trees and travellers' palms, all reaching high +into the air and making a thick defence against the sunlight. The +stone floor had been freshly sprinkled with water, and the ceiling was +high, made of dark teak wood, and it was very dark inside, and damp +and rather cool. There was a punkah hanging from the ceiling, but it +stood at rest. Its movement had come to make the Administrator +nervous. He was very nervous and restless, turning his head from side +to side in quick, sharp jerks, first over one shoulder and then the +other, and now and then suddenly bending down to glance under the +table. Later on, some one explained to Mercier that the Administrator +had a profound fear of insects, the fierce, crawling, stinging things +that lived outside under the bamboos, and that crept in sometimes +across the stone paved floor, and bit. Only last week, one of the +paroled convicts, working in the settlement, had been bitten by some +venomous evil thing, and had died a few hours later. Such accidents +were common--one must always be on guard. Most people became used to +being on guard, but with the Administrator, the thing had become a +nightmare. He had been out too long--his nerves were tortured. It was +the heat, of course--the stifling, enervating heat. Few could stand it +for very long, and the authorities back home must have forgotten to +relieve the old man--he was such a good executive, perhaps they had +forgotten on purpose. The sub-officials were changed from time to +time, but the old man seemed to have been forgotten. He could not +stand it much longer--that was obvious. + +Mercier went thoughtfully to the bungalow assigned to him, installed +his few meagre possessions, and entered without zest upon his work. +Somehow, the keenness had been taken out of him by that hour's +conversation in the darkened bureau of the Chief. The weeks passed +slowly, but Mercier never regained his enthusiasm. The physical +atmosphere took all initiative away. His comrades were listless +beings, always tired, dragging slowly to their daily rounds, and +finishing their work early in the morning before the heat became +intolerable. Then for hours they rested--retired to their bungalows or +that of a comrade, and rested, to escape the intense heat which never +varied, winter or summer, although it was a farce to speak of the +seasons as winter or summer, except in memory of home. Mercier soon +fell in with their ways. He drank a great deal, beginning very early +in the morning, and measured time by cigarettes, postponing his +duties, such that claimed him, till he had just finished another +cigarette. They were cheap and bad, but there was a solace in them, +and they whiled away the time. The only joviality about the place came +in the evenings, after many cigarettes, which made him nervous, and +after very many little glasses of brandy, which unfitted him for work +but which were necessary to stimulate him for what work he had to do. + +Near the group of bungalows belonging to the officials and to the +prison guards, stood the prison building itself, a large, rambling, +one storeyed structure, with many windows fitted with iron bars. Here +the newcomers were kept, about eight hundred of them, and nearby, in +an adjacent compound, were quarters for about seven hundred prisoners +out on parole, by reason of good conduct. The confined prisoners did +not work, being merely confined, but those out on parole, on good +conduct, and whose terms would soon come to an end, were trusted to +work about the island in various capacities. They made the roads--such +few as there were. The island was so small that many roads were not +required, and since there was no traffic, but little labour was +required to keep the roads in repair. They also worked in the rice +fields, but, again, there were not many rice fields. It was easier to +bring rice from the mainland. There was a herd of water buffaloes, +used for ploughing during the season, and the buffaloes needed some +attention, but not much. So the paroled convicts were employed in +other ways about the island, in cooking for the prisoners, in cleaning +the various buildings, and as servants in the households of the +officials. Only the most trusted, however, were given such posts as +that. Yet it was necessary to trust many of them, and each official +had a large retinue of servants, for there was little settlement work +to be done, and something must be done with the men on parole, since +the prison itself was too small to hold fifteen hundred men under lock +and key at the same time. Moreover, these trusted ones were rather +necessary. In the Tropics, work is always done in a small, +half-hearted way, by reason of the heat which so soon exhausts the +vitality, consequently many people are required to perform the +smallest task. + +Mercier, therefore, was obliged to accept the life as he found it, and +he found it different from the romantic conception which he had formed +at home. And he became very listless and demoralised, and the lack of +interests of all sorts bored him intolerably. He was not one to find +solace in an intellectual life. The bi-monthly call of the supply ship +with its stocks of provisions, the unloading of which he must oversee, +was the sole outside interest he had to look forward to. Old +newspapers and magazines came with the supply ship, and these were +eagerly read, and soon abandoned, and nothing was left but cigarettes +and brandy to sustain him between whiles. + +On a certain morning, when he had been at the settlement for over a +year, he finished his daily report and strolled over to lay it upon +the desk in the office of the Administrator. The supply ship was due +in that day, and he wandered down to the beach to look for her. There +she was, just dropping anchor. His heart beat a little faster, and he +hastened his steps. It was cattle day. Bullocks from the mainland, +several hundred miles away, which came once a month for food. He took +his boat and rowed, out to the ship, and then directed the work of +removing the bullocks. + +It was nasty work. The coolies did it badly. The hatch was opened, and +by means of a block and pulley, each bullock was dragged upward by a +rope attached to its horns. Kicking and struggling, they were swung +upwards over the side of the ship and lowered into the lighter below. +Sometimes they were swung out too far and landed straddle on the side +of the lighter, straddling the rail, kicking and roaring. And +sometimes, when the loosely moored lighter drifted away a little from +the ship's side, an animal would be lowered between the ship's side +and the lighter, and squeezed between the two--so crushed that when it +was finally hauled up and lowered safely into the boat, it collapsed +in a heap, with blood flowing from its mouth. The coolies did it all +very badly--they had no system, and as Mercier could not speak to them +in their language, he could not direct them properly. Besides, he was +no organiser himself, and probably could not have directed them +properly had he been able to speak to them. All he could do, +therefore, was to look on, and let them do it in their own way. +Sometimes as an animal was being raised, its horns would break, and it +would be lowered with a bleeding head, while the coolies stood by and +grinned, and considered it a joke. Mercier was still sensitive on some +points, and while long ago he had ceased to find any beauty in the +island, he was nevertheless disgusted with needless suffering, with +stupid, ugly acts. + +There were only twenty cattle to be unloaded on this day, but it took +two hours to transfer them to the lighter, and at the end of that time +the tide had fallen so that they must wait for another six or eight +hours, in the broiling sun, until the water was high enough for the +lighter to approach the landing stage, where another block and pulley +was rigged. Which meant that later in the day--possibly in the hottest +part--Mercier would be obliged to come down again to oversee the work, +and to see that it was finished. For the cattle must be ashore by +evening--meat was needed for the settlement, and some must be killed +for food that night. Mercier was thoroughly disgusted with his work, +with his whole wasted life. Ah, it was a dog's life! Yet how eagerly +he had tried to obtain this post--how eagerly he had begged for the +chance, pleaded for it, besought the few influential people he knew to +obtain it for him. + +On the way back to his bungalow, he passed along the palm grown road, +on each side of which were the red and white bungalows, residences of +the dozen officials of the island. They were screened by hedges of +high growing bushes, bearing brilliant, exotic flowers which gave out +a heavy, sweet perfume, and the perfume hung in clouds, invisible yet +tangible, pervading the soft, warm air. How he had dreamed of such +perfumes--long ago. Yet how sickening in reality. And how dull they +were, the interiors of these sheltered bungalows, how dull and stupid +the monotonous life that went on inside them--dejected, weary, useless +little rounds of household activity, that went along languorously each +day, and led nowhere. It all led nowhere. Within each house was the +wearied, stupid wife of some petty official, and sometimes there were +stupid, pallid children as well, tended by convicts on parole. Nowhere +could he turn to find intellectual refreshment. The community offered +nothing--there was no society--just the dull daily greetings, the +dull, commonplace comments on island doings or not doings, for all lay +under the spell of isolation, under the pall of the great, oppressive, +overwhelming heat. How deadly it all was, the monotonous life, the +isolation, the lack of interests and occupation. As he passed along, a +frowzy woman in a Mother Hubbard greeted him from a verandah and asked +him to enter. Years ago she had come out fresh and blooming, and now +she was prematurely aged, fat and stupid--more stupid, perhaps, than +the rest. Yet somehow, because there was nothing else to do, Mercier +pushed open the flimsy bamboo gate, walked up the gravelled path, and +flung himself dejectedly upon a chaise longue which was at hand. And +the woman talked to him, asked him how many cattle had come over that +morning, whether they were yet unloaded, when they would be finally +landed and led to the slaughter pens a little way inland. It was all +so gross, so banal, yet it was all there was of incident in the day, +and most clays were still more barren, with not even these paltry +events to discuss. And he felt that he was sinking to the level of +these people, he who had dreamed of high romance, of the mystery of +the Far Eastern Tropics! And this was what it meant--what it had come +to! A fat woman in a Mother Hubbard asking him how many bullocks had +come in that day, and when they would be ready to kill and eat! + +She clapped together her small, fat hands, and a servant entered, and +she ordered grenadine and soda and liqueurs, and pushed towards him a +box of cheap cigarettes. Where was her charm? Why had he married her, +her husband--who was at the moment in the Administrator's bureau, +compiling useless statistics concerning the petty revenues of the +prison colony? But he was just like her, in his way. All the men were +run to seed, and all their women too. And these were the only women on +the island, these worn, pale, bloated wives who led an idle life in +the blazing heat. Seven such women, all told. He relapsed into +silence, and she likewise fell silent, there being nothing more to +get nor give. They were all gone, intellectually. They had no ideas, +nothing to exchange. So he smoked on, lazily, in silence, feeling the +slight stir in his blood caused by the Quinquina. He filled his glass +again, and looked forward to the next wave of relaxation. Overhead, +the punkah swung slowly, stirring the scented air. These were the +scents he had dreamed of, the rich, heavy perfumes of the Tropics. +Only it was all so dull! + +The door opened and a little girl entered the verandah, a child of +perhaps fourteen. A doomed child. He looked at her languidly, and +continued to look at her, thinking vague thoughts. She was beautiful. +Her cotton frock, belted in by some strange arrangement of seashells +woven into a girdle, pressed tightly over her young form, revealing +clearly the outline of a childish figure soon ready to bloom into full +maturity under these hot rays of vertical sunshine. She would develop +soon, even as the native women developed into maturity very early. His +tired glance rested upon her face. That, too, bore promise of great +beauty. The features were fine and regular, singularly well formed, +and the eyes those of a gentle cow, unspeculative, unintelligent. She +was very white, with the deathlike whiteness of the Tropics, and under +the childish eyes were deep, black rings, coming early. He noticed her +hands--slender, long, with beautiful fingernails--such hands in Paris! +And again his roving glance fell lower, and rested upon her bare legs, +well formed, well developed, the legs of a young woman. He stirred +lightly in his chair. The feet matched the hands--slender, long feet, +with long, slender toes. She was wearing native sandals, clumsy wooden +sandals, with knobs between the first two toes. Only the knobs were of +silver, instead of the usual buttons of bone, or wood. Some one had +brought them to her from the mainland, evidently. Well, here she was, +a doomed creature, uneducated, growing older, growing into womanhood, +with no outlook ahead. Her only companions her dull, stupid mother, +and the worn-out wives of the officials--all years older than herself. +Or perhaps she depended for companionship upon the children--there +were a dozen such, about the place, between the ages of two and six. +And she stood between these two groups, just blooming into womanhood, +with her beautiful young body, and her atrophied young brain. Her eyes +fell shyly under his penetrating, speculative glances, and a wave of +colour rose into her white cheeks. She felt, then, hey? Felt what? + +Mercier leaned forward, with something curious pulsing in his breast. +The sort of feeling that he had long since forgotten, for there was +nothing for such feelings to feed upon, here in his prison. Yet the +sensation, vague as it was, seemed to have been recognised, shared for +an instant by the young creature beside him. It was rather uncanny. He +had heard that idiots or half-witted people were like that. She rose +uneasily, placing upon her long, sprawling curls an old sun hat, very +dirty, the brim misshapen by frequent wettings of pipe-clay. A servant +appeared from behind the far corner of the verandah, an old man, dark +skinned, emaciated, clad in a faded red sarong. He was her personal +servant, told off to attend her. Something must be done for the men on +parole, some occupation given them to test their fitness before +returning them again to society. As she passed from the verandah, +followed by the old black man in his red sarong, Mercier felt a +strange thrill. Where were they going, those two? + +He turned to the inattentive, vacuous mother. "Your daughter," he +began, "is fast growing up. Soon she will be marrying." + +The woman shrugged her shoulders. + +"With whom?" she answered. "Who will take her? What dowry can we give +her? We cannot even send her to Singapore to be educated. Who will +take her--ignorant, uneducated--without a _dot_? Besides," she +continued eagerly, warmed into a burst of confidence, "you have +heard--you have seen--the trouble lies here," and she tapped her +forehead significantly. + +And with a sigh she concluded, "We are all prisoners here, every one +of us--like the rest." + +Mercier rose from the chaise longue, still thinking deeply, still +stirred by the vague emotion that had called forth an answer from the +immature, half-witted child. He had a report to make to the Bureau, +and he must be getting on. Later, when the tide turned, and the +lighter could come against the jetty, he must attend to the cattle. + +He did not linger in the office of the Administrator, but sent in his +report by a waiting boy, and then strolled inland by the road that led +past the prison, into the interior of the island. On his way he passed +the graveyard. It was a melancholy graveyard, containing a few +slanting shafts erected to the memory of guards and of one or two +officers who had been killed from time to time by prisoners who had +run amok. Such uprisings occurred now and then, but seldom. He entered +the cemetery, and looked about languidly, reading the names on the +stones. Killed, killed, killed. Then he came upon a few who had died +naturally. Or was it natural to have died, at the age of thirty, out +here on the edge of the world? Yet it was most natural, after all. He +himself was nearly ready for the grave, ready because of pure boredom, +through pure inertia, quite ready to succumb to the devitalising +effect of this life. This hideous life on a desert island. This +hideous mockery of life, lived while he was still so young and so +vital, and which was reducing him, not slowly but with great pacing +strides, to an inertia to which he must soon succumb. Why didn't the +prisoners revolt now, he wondered? He would gladly accept such a way +out--gladly offer himself to their knives, or their clubs, or whatever +it was they had. Anything that would put an end to him, and land him +under a stone in this forsaken spot. Surely he was no more alive than +the dead under those stones. No more dead than the dead. + +He passed out of the gate, swinging on a loose hinge, and in deep +meditation walked along the palm bordered road back of the settlement. +Soon the last bungalow was left behind, even though he walked slowly. +Then succeeded the paddy fields, poorly tilled and badly irrigated. +There were enough men on the island to have done it properly--only +what was the use? Who cared--whether they raised their own rice or +brought it from the mainland twice a month? It was not a matter to +bother about. Water buffaloes, grazing by the roadside, raised their +heavy heads and stared at him with unspeakable insolence. They were +for ploughing the rice fields, but who had the heart to oversee the +work? Better leave the men squatting in content by the roadside, +under the straggly banana trees, than urge them to work. It meant more +effort on the part of the officials and effort was so useless. All so +futile and so hopeless. He nodded in recognition of the salutes given +him by groups of paroled prisoners, chewing betel nut under the trees. +Let them be. + +A bend in the road brought him to a halt. Just beyond, lying at full +length upon the parched grass, was the little girl he had seen that +morning. She lay on her back, with bare legs extended, asleep. Nearby, +squatting on his heels and lost in a meditative pipe, sat the Kling, +her body servant. The man rose to his feet respectfully as Mercier +passed, watching his mistress and watching Mercier with a sombre eye. +Mercier passed on slowly, with a long glance at the child. She was not +a child, really. Her cotton dress clung round her closely, and he +gazed fascinated, at the young figure, realising that it was mature. +Mature enough. A thought suddenly rose to his mind, submerging +everything else. He walked on hurriedly, and at a turn of the road, +looked back. The Kling was sitting down again impassively, refilling +his pipe. + +From that time on, Mercier's days were days of torment, and the nights +as well. He struggled violently against this new feeling, this hideous +obsession, and plunged into his work violently, to escape it. But his +work, meagre and insufficient at best, was merely finished the sooner +because of his energy, which left him with more time on his hands. +That was all. Time in which to think and to struggle. No, certainly, +he did not wish to marry. That thought was put aside immediately. +Marry a stupid little child like that, with a brain as fat as her +body! But not as beautiful as her body. Besides, she was too young to +marry, even in the Tropics, where all things mate young. But there she +was, forever coming across his path at every turn. In his long walks +back into the interior, behind the settlement, he came upon her daily, +with her attendant Kling. The Kling always squatting on his heels, +smoking, or else rolling himself a bit of areca nut into a +sirrah-leaf, and dabbing on a bit of pink lime from his worn, silver +box. Mercier tried to talk to the child, to disillusion himself by +conversations which showed the paucity of ideas, her retarded +mentality. But he always ended by looking at the beautiful, slim +hands, at the beautiful, slim feet, at the cotton gown slightly +pressed outward by the maturing form within. + +He was angry with himself, furious at the obsession that possessed +him. Once he entered the gravelled path of the child's home, and +seriously discussed with her mother the danger of letting her roam at +large over the island, accompanied only by the old Kling. He explained +vigorously that it was not safe. There were hundreds of paroled +prisoners at large, engaged in the ricefields, on the plantations, +mending the roads--there was not a native woman on the place. He +explained and expostulated volubly, surprised at his own eloquence. +The mother took it calmly. The Kling, she replied, was trustworthy. He +was an old man, very trustworthy and very strong. No harm could come +to her daughter under his protection. And the long rambles abroad were +good for the child. Was she not accustomed to convicts, as servants? +She had a houseful of them, and many years' experience. What did he +know of them, a comparative newcomer? For example, she had three +pirates, Malays from the coast of Siam. They were quiet enough now. +And one Cambodian, a murderer, true enough, but gentle enough now. +Three house-boys and a cook. As for the old Kling, he was a marvel--he +had been a thief in his day, but now--well now, he was body-servant +for her daughter and a more faithful soul it would be hard to find. +For seven years she had lived upon the island, surrounded by these +men. She knew them well enough. True, there was the graveyard back of +the prison compound, eloquent, mute testimony of certain lapses from +trustworthiness, but she was not afraid. She had no imagination, and +Mercier, failing to make her sense danger, gave it up. It had been a +great effort. He had been pleading for protection against himself. + +Mercier awoke one morning very early. It was early, but still dark, +for never, in these baleful Tropics, did the dawn precede the sunrise, +and there was no slow, gradual greying and rosying creeping of +daylight, preceding the dawn. It was early and dark, with a damp +coolness in the air, and he reached down from his cot for his +slippers, and first clapped them together before placing them upon his +slim feet. Then he arose, stepped out upon his verandah, and thought +awhile. Darkness everywhere, and the noise of the surf beating within +the enclosed crescent of the harbour. Over all, a great heat, tinged +with a damp coolness, a coolness which was sinister. And standing upon +his verandah, came rushing over him the agony of his wasted life. His +prisoner life upon this lonely island in the Southern Seas. Exchanged, +this wasted life, for his romantic dreams, and a salary of a few +hundred francs a year. That day he would write and ask for his +release--send in his resignation--although it would be weeks or months +before he could be relieved. As he stood there in agony, the dawn +broke before him suddenly, as Tropic dawns do break, all of a sudden, +with a rush. Before him rose the high peaks of the binding mountains, +high, impassable, black peaks, towering like a wall of rock. It was +the wall of the world, and he could not scale it. Before him stretched +the curve of the southern sea, in a crescent, but for all its +fluidity, as impassable as the backing wall of rock. Between the two +he was hemmed in, on a narrow strip of land, enclosed between the +mountain wall and the curving reach of sea. He and all his futile +interests lay within that narrow strip of land, between the mountain +wall and the sea--and the strip was very narrow and small. + +He went forth from his bungalow, pulling upon his feet clumsy native +sandals of wood, with a button between the toes. For underfoot lay the +things he dreaded, the heat things, the things bred by this warm +climate enclosed between the high wall of the mountains and the +infitting curve of the sea. He tramped awkwardly along in his loose +fitting sandals, fast at the toe, clapping up and down at the heel. +The one street of the town through which he passed was bordered by the +houses of the officials, all sleeping. They were accustomed to +sleeping. Only he, Mercier, could not sleep. He was not yet accustomed +to being a prisoner. Perhaps--in time---- + +He clapped along gently, though to him it seemed very noisily, past +the bungalows of the officials, past the big prison, also sleeping. +Past the Administration buildings, past the weed-grown, unused tennis +courts, out upon the red road leading to the mountains. Turn upon turn +of the red road he passed, and then stopped, halted by a sight. A +sight which for weeks past he had worn in his heart, but which he had +never hoped to see fulfilled. She was there, that child! That child so +young, so voluptuous in her development, so immature in her mentality, +and beside her, a little way away, sat the Kling prisoner who guarded +her. The Kling squatted upon his heels, chewing areca nut, and +spitting long distances before him. The child also squatted upon the +grass by the roadside, very listless. The Kling did not move as +Mercier approached, clapping in his sandals. But the child moved and +cast upon him a luminous, frightened gaze, and then regarded him +fixedly. Therefore Mercier sat down by the child, and noted her. Noted +her with a hungry feeling, taking in every beautiful detail. Her +exquisite little hands, and her exquisite little feet, shod in wooden +sandals, with a button between the toes, such sandals as he was +wearing. He talked to her a little, and she answered in half-shy, +frightened tones, but underneath he detected a note of passion--such +as he felt for her. She was fourteen years old, you see, and fully +developed, partly because she was half-witted, and partly because of +these hot temperatures under the Equator. + +Thus it befell that every morning Mercier arose early, clad his feet +in noisy, clapping sandals, and went out for a walk along the red road +underlying the mountain. And every morning, almost by accident, he met +the half-witted child with her faithful Kling attendant. And the +Kling, squatting down upon his heels, chewed areca nut, and spat +widely and indifferently, while Mercier sat down beside the little +girl and wondered how long he could stand it--before his control gave +way. For she was a little animal, you see, and yearned for him in a +sort of fourteen-year-old style, fostered by the intense heat of the +Tropics. But Mercier, not yet very long from home, held back--because +of certain inhibitions. Sometimes he thought he would ask for her in +marriage--which was ridiculous, and showed that life in the Far East, +especially in a prison colony, affects the brain. At other times, he +thought how very awkward it would be, in such a little, circumscribed +community as that, if he did not ask her in marriage. Suppose she +babbled--as she might well do. There is no accounting for the +feeble-minded. But as the days grew on, madder and wilder he became, +earlier and earlier he arose to meet her, to go forth to find her on +the red road beneath the mountains. There she was always waiting for +him, while the Kling, her attendant, squatted chewing betel nut a +little farther on. + + * * * * * + +In time, he had enough. He had had quite enough. She was a stupid +fool, half-witted. He grew quite satiated. Also she grew alarmed. Very +much alarmed. But always, in the distance, with his back discreetly +turned, sat her Kling guardian, the paroled prisoner, chewing betel +nut. So his way out was easy. One day, about eleven o'clock in the +morning, clad in very immaculate white clothes, he came to call upon +the child's parents, with a painful duty to perform. He must report +what he had seen. When out taking his constitutional, he had seen +certain things in an isolated spot of the red road, leading up to the +mountains. These paroled prisoners could not be trusted--he had +intimated as much weeks ago. Therefore he made his report, his painful +report, as compelled by duty. In his pocket was his release--the +acceptance of his resignation. His recall from his post. When the boat +came in next time--that day, in fact--he would go. But he could not +go, with a clear conscience, till he had reported on what he had seen. +The Kling--the old, stupid, trusted Kling--stupid to trust a child +like that with a servant like that---- + +So the Kling was hanged next morning, and Mercier sailed away that +afternoon, when the little steamer came in. The little colony on the +island of prisoners went on with its life as usual. Ah, bah! There was +no harm done! She was so very immature! Mercier need not have exacted +the life of the Kling servant, after all. He was supersensitive and +over-scrupulous. Life in a prison colony in the Far East certainly +affects one's judgment. + + + + +CANTERBURY CHIMES + + + + +VII + +CANTERBURY CHIMES + + +I + +The Colonial Bishop lay spread out on his long, rattan chair, idly +contemplating the view of the harbour, as seen from his deep, cool +verandah. As he lay there, pleasant thoughts crossed his mind, swam +across his consciousness in a continuous stream, although, properly +speaking, he was not thinking at all. The thoughts condensed in +patches, were mere agglomerations of feelings and impressions, and +they strung themselves across his mind as beads are strung along a +string. His mental fingers, however, slipped the beads along, and he +derived an impression of each bead as it passed before his half closed +eyes. The first that appeared was a sense of physical well-being. He +liked the climate. This climate of the Far Eastern Tropics, which so +few people could stand, much less enjoy. But he liked it; he liked its +enclosing sense of warmth and dampness and heavy scented atmosphere. +Never before had he brought such an appetite to his meals, or so +enjoyed his exercise, or revelled in perspiration after a hard bicycle +ride, and so enjoyed the cool wash and splash in the Java jar +afterwards. The climate suited him admirably. It made one very fit, +physically, and was altogether delightful. From this you will see that +the Bishop was a young man, not over forty-five. + +Then the servants. Good boys he had, well trained, obedient, +anticipative, amusing, picturesque in their Oriental dress. Rather +trying because of their laziness, but not too exasperating to be a +real irritant. So many people found native servants a downright source +of annoyance--even worse than the climate--but for himself, he had +never found them so. They gave him no trouble at all, and he had been +out ten years, so ought to know. + +The native life was charming too, so rich in colour, in all its gay +costumes. Surely the first Futurists must have been the Orientals. No +modern of the most ultra-modern school had ever revelled in such +gorgeous colour combinations, in such daring contrasts and lurid +extremes, as did these dark hued people, in their primitive +simplicity. He liked them all, decent and docile. He liked their +earrings--only that day he had counted a row of nine in the ear of +some wandering juggler. Nose rings too--how pretty they were, nose +rings. Rubies too, and most of them real, doubtless. How well they +looked in the nostril of a thin, aquiline brown nose. It all went with +the country. Barbaric, perhaps, contrasted with other standards, but +beautiful--in its way. He would not change it for the world. + +And the perfumes! A faint scent of gardenias was at that moment being +wafted in from his well-kept, rich gardens, where somehow his boys +managed to make flowers grow in the brown, devitalised earth. For the +soil was devitalised, surely. It got no rest, year in, year out. For +centuries it had nourished, in one long, eternal season, the great +rich mass of tropical vegetation. European flowers would not grow in +the red earth, or the black earth, whichever it was--he had been +accustomed to think of red or black earth as being rich, but out here +in the Tropics, it was unable to produce, for more than a brief +season, the flowers and shrubs that were native to his home land. But +gardenias and frangipanni---- + +The next bead that slipped along was the memory of an Arab street at +dusk--the merchants sitting at their shop fronts, the gloom of the +little, narrow shops, the glow of rich stuffs and rich colours that +lay in neat piles on the shelves, and the scent of incense burning in +little earthenware braziers at the door of each shop--how sweet was +the warm air, laden with this deeply sweet smell of burning, glowing +incense---- + +A step sounded on the verandah, and the Bishop concluded his revery +abruptly. It was not the nearly noiseless step of a bare foot, such as +his servants. It was the step of someone in European shoes, yet +without the firm, decided tramp of a European. Yet the tread of a +European shoe, muffled to the slithering, soft effect of a native +foot. A naked foot, booted. This was the Bishop's hour of rest, and +his servants had instructions to admit no one. Well, no one in a +general sense, yet there were always two or three recognised +exceptions. But it was not one of these exceptions, coming in +noiselessly like that. The Bishop sprang up, standing straddle of his +long chair, and looking fixedly in the direction of the approaching +sound. He hated interruptions, and was indignant to think that any one +should have slipped in, past the eyes of his watchful servants. Just +then a figure appeared at the far end of the verandah, a white clad +figure rapidly advancing. A dark skinned, slim figure, clad in white +linen European clothes, even down to a pair of new, ill fitting, white +canvas shoes with rubber soles. That accounted for the sound +resembling bare feet. Really, they could never wear shoes properly, +these natives, however much they might try. + +Still standing straddle across his chair, the Bishop called out +angrily to the intruder. Since he was not a European, and obviously +not a native Prince--native princes never slithered in like that, all +the pomp of the East heralded their coming--the Bishop could afford to +let his annoyance manifest itself in his voice. Therefore he called +out sharply, asking the stranger's business. + +A slim youth stepped forward, bare headed, hollow chested, very dark +in the gathering twilight, and his hands clasped together as if in +supplication, stood out blackly against the whiteness of his tunic. +The Bishop noticed that they were trembling. Well they might, for he +had taken a great liberty, by this presumptuous, unannounced visit. It +had a sort of sneaking character about it. Coming to steal, perhaps, +and being surprised in the act, had determined to brazen it out under +the pretext of a visit. The young man, however, walked boldly up to +the Bishop's chair, and the Bishop, rather taken aback, sat himself +down again and extended his legs on the rest, in their usual +comfortable position. + +"I've come to see you, Sir," began the stranger, using very good +English though with a marked native accent, "on a question of great +importance. On a matter of principle--of high principle. I've never +seen you before, but you are known to me by reputation." + +The Bishop snorted at this piece of impudence, but the youth went on +unabashed. + +"A very noble reputation, if I may presume to say so. But you know +that, of course. What you are, what you stand for. Therefore I have +dared to come to you for help. It is not a matter of advice--that +does not enter in at all. But I want your great help--on our side. To +right a great, an immense, an immensely growing wrong." + +The youth hesitated and stopped, wringing his dark, thin hands +together in evident agitation. The Bishop surveyed him coldly, with +curiosity, without sympathy, enjoying his embarrassment. So that was +it--some grievance, real or fancied. Fancied, most likely. He felt a +distinct sense of resentment that his hour of repose should have been +broken in upon so rudely by this native--bringing him wrongs to +redress in this uncalled for manner. There were plenty of people in +the Bishop's service expressly appointed for the purpose of looking +into complaints and attending to them. To bring them up to +headquarters, to the Bishop himself, was an act of downright +impertinence. Very much as if a native should bring his petty quarrels +up to the Governor-General. These thoughts passed through the Bishop's +mind as he regarded the intruder with a fixed and most unfriendly eye. +A few moments of hesitating silence followed, while the Bishop watched +the darting movements of a lizard on the wall, and waited for the +stranger to continue. + +"I want your help," went on the youth in a low voice. "You are so +powerful--you can do so much. Not as a man, but because of your +office. Perhaps as a man, too, for they say you are a good and just +man. But the combination of a strong man in a high office----" + +Still no help from the Bishop. That he did not clap his hands together +and call for his servants to have this intruder thrown out, marked +him, in his estimation, as the kind of man that the youth had +suggested. A just and liberal man. Very well, he was ready to listen. +Now that he was caught, so to speak, and obliged to listen against his +will. + +"It's about the opium traffic," explained the young man, breathing +hard with excitement, and wringing his thin hands together in +distress. + +"Oh, that's it, is it?" exclaimed the Bishop, breaking silence. "I +thought it must be some such thing. I mean, something that is no +concern of mine--nor yours either," he concluded sharply. + +"It is both my concern and your concern," replied the young man +solemnly, "both yours and mine. Your race, your country, is sinning +against my race and my country----" + +"Your country!" interrupted the Bishop disdainfully. + +"Yes, my country!" exclaimed the young man proudly. "Mine still, for +all that you have conquered it, and civilized it and degraded it!" + +The Bishop sprang up from his chair angrily, and then sank back again, +determined to listen. He would let this fellow say all he had to say, +and then have him arrested afterwards. He would let him condemn +himself out of his own mouth. How well they spoke English too, these +educated natives. + +"What is this Colony, Sir," continued the young man gaining control of +himself, "but a market for the opium your Government sells? For you +know, Sir, as well as I, that the sale of opium is a monopoly of your +Government. And we are helpless, defenceless, powerless to protect +ourselves. And do you know what your Government makes out of this +trade, Sir--the revenue it collects from selling opium to my people? +Three quarters of the revenue of this Colony are derived from opium. +Your Government runs this colony on our degradation. You build your +roads, your forts, your schools, your public buildings, on this vice +that you have forced upon us. Before you came, with your civilization, +we were decent. Very decent, on the whole. Now look at us--what do you +see? How many shops in this town are licensed by your Government for +the sale of opium--and the license money pocketed as revenue? How many +opium divans, where we may smoke, are licensed by your Government, and +the license money pocketed as part of the revenue?" + +"You needn't smoke unless you wish to," remarked the Bishop drily. "We +don't force you to do it. We don't put the pipe between your teeth and +insist upon your drugging yourselves. How many shops do you say there +are--how many smoking places? Several hundred? We don't force you into +them, I take it. You go of your own choice, don't you? We Europeans +don't do it. It's as free for us as it is for you. We have the same +opportunities to kill ourselves--I suppose that's how you look at +it--as you do. Yet somehow we abstain. If you can't resist----" + +The Bishop shrugged his shoulders. Yet he rather despised himself for +the argument. It sounded cheap and unworthy, somehow. The youth, +however, did not seem to resent it, and went on sadly. + +"It's true," he said, "we need not, I suppose. Yet you know," he +continued humbly, "we are a very simple people. We are very primitive, +very--lowly. We didn't understand at first, and now it's too late. +We've most of us got the habit, and the rest are getting it. We're +weak and ignorant. We want you to protect us from ourselves. Just as +you protect your own people--at home. You don't import it into your +own country--you don't want to corrupt your own people. But what about +the races you colonise and subject--who can't protect themselves? It's +not fair!" he concluded passionately, "and besides, this year you have +sold us two millions more than last year----" + +"Where did you get your figures?" broke in the Bishop with rising +indignation. This cowering, trembling boy seemed to have all the +arguments on his side. + +"From your own reports, Sir. Government reports. Compiled by your own +officials." + +"And how did _you_ obtain a Government report?" asked the Bishop +angrily. "Spying, eh?" + +The young man ignored the insult, and went on patiently. "Some are +distributed free, others may be bought at the book shops. There is one +lying on your table this moment, Sir." + +"Well enough for me," remarked the Bishop, "but how did you come by +it?" The sharp eyes had recognised the fat, blue volume buried under a +miscellaneous litter of books and pamphlets on a wicker table. A lean +finger pointed towards it, and the accusing voice went on. + +"There is more than opium in that Report, Sir. Look at the schools. +How little schooling do you give us, how little money do you spend for +them. We are almost illiterate--yet you have ruled us for many years. +How little do you spend on schools, so that you may keep us submissive +and ignorant? You know how freely you provide us with opium, so that +we may be docile and easy to manage--easy to manage and exploit." + +The Bishop sprang up from his chair, making a grasp for the white coat +of his tormentor, but the fellow nimbly avoided him, and darted to the +other side of the table. It was almost completely dark by this time, +and the Bishop could not pursue his guest in the gloom, nor could he +reach the bell. + +"Are you a Seditionist, Sir? How dare you criticise the Government?" +The answer was immediate and unexpected. + +"Yes, I criticise the Government--just as I have been criticising it +to you. But more in sorrow than in anger. Although in time the anger +may come. Therefore that is why I have come to you--for help, before +our anger comes. You are a strong man, a just, a liberal man--so I'm +told. You hold a high position in the Church maintained by your +Government, just as the opium traffic is maintained by your +Government. Both are Government monopolies." + +In the distance the cathedral chimes rang over the still air--the old, +sweet Canterbury chimes, pealing the full round, for it was the hour. +Then the hour struck, and both men counted it, mechanically. + +"Your salary, Sir--as well as the salaries of the other priests of +your established church, out here in this Colony--comes from the +established opium trade. Your Canterbury chimes ring out, every +fifteen minutes, over the opium dens of the Crown!" + +At this supreme insult the Bishop leaped at his tormentor, striking a +blow into space. The youth bounded over the low rail of the verandah +and disappeared amongst the shrubbery in the darkness. + +To say that the Bishop was shaken by this interview is to put it +mildly. For he was a good man in his way, and moreover, in a certain +restricted sense, a religious one. But he was lazy and not inclined to +meddle in affairs that did not concern him. And colonial politics and +the management of colonial affairs were certainly not his concern. +Nevertheless, the horrible grouping together of facts, as the young +Seditionist had grouped them for him, their adroit placing together, +with the hideous, unavoidable connection between them, upset him +tremendously. He sat on in the darkness trying to think, trying to +see his way clear, trying to excuse or to justify. He had never +thought of these things before, yet he well knew of their existence. +All sorts of injustices abounded in civilized states--it was perhaps +worse in the colonies. Yet even in the colonies, little by little they +were being weeded out, or adjusted. Yet this particular evil, somehow, +seemed to flourish untouched. Not an effort was made to uproot it. The +only effort made, apparently, was to increase and encourage it. And +with the acquiescence of men like himself. All for what--for money? +For Crown revenues! Pretty poor business, come to think of it. Surely, +if the Colony could not exist by honest and legitimate trade, it might +better not exist at all. To thrive upon the vices of a subject people, +to derive nearly the whole revenue from those vices, really, somehow, +it seemed incompatible with--with--that nasty fling about the Church! + +He rang for his boy, and a lamp was brought in and placed upon the +table beside him, and the Bishop reached over for the unheeded Report, +which had been lying on the table so long. The columns of figures +seemed rather formidable--he hated statistics, but he applied himself +to the Report conscientiously. Yes, there it was in all its simplicity +of crude, bald statements, just as the young man had said. Glaring, +horrible facts, disgraceful facts. For an hour he sat absorbed in +them, noting the yearly increase in consumption as indicated by the +yearly increase in revenue. Three quarters of the revenue from +opium--one quarter from other things. He wondered vaguely about his +salary; that painful allusion to it troubled him. It was just possible +that it came from the one quarter derived from legitimate trade. +Certainly, it was quite possible. But on the other hand, there was an +unquiet suspicion that perhaps it didn't. + +The Bishop moved into the dining room, carrying the fat Blue Book +under his arm, and read it carefully during his solitary meal. Those +carefully compiled tables, somehow, did not do credit to what he had +heretofore been pleased to consider the greatest colonising nation in +the world. Were all colonies like that--run on these principles? Yet +the Government, apparently, had felt no hesitation in setting forth +these facts explicitly. Presumably the Government felt justified. Yet +it certainly was not--the word honourable rose to his mind, but he +suppressed it at once--however, nothing else suggested itself. Years +ago, so many years ago that he had lost count, the Bishop had worked +for a time in the East End. He had had clubs and classes, and worked +with the young men. He used to know a good deal about certain things, +and to feel strongly---- But since then he had become prosperous, and +a high dignitary in the Church. Something stirred uneasily in the back +of his mind, as he dawdled over his dinner and turned the pages of the +Blue Book---- + +Then he went back to the verandah again, and subsided into his long +chair. He sat in darkness, for he disliked the night-flying insects of +the Tropics, and had a nervous horror of them. Lamps made them +worse--brought them in thicker shoals. He gazed out at the twinkling +lights of the vessels at anchor in the harbour. There were many ships +in the roadway to-night, a sight which would ordinarily have pleased +him, but his thoughts were in sharp contrast now to his comfortable, +contented thoughts of a few hours ago. + + +II + +The Bishop spent rather a wakeful night, that is, until about two in +the morning, at which hour he settled his problem and fell asleep. It +finally resolved itself in his mind as a matter for him to let alone. +He could not better it, and had not the smallest intention of making a +martyr of himself, of resigning his office, or of incurring any of the +other disagreeable experiences which beset the path of the moral +crusader. No, he could do nothing, for at two o'clock, as we have +said, he had arrived at the conclusion that the evil--if such it could +be called, since there was considerable doubt on the subject--had +reached a magnitude which no single individual could deal with. +Whereupon he wisely dismissed the matter from his mind. Not having +gone to sleep till late he was considerably annoyed when his China-boy +arrived at six with his early tea. This sense of irritation still +clung to him when an hour later he sat down on the verandah facing the +harbour and began his breakfast. Even after ten years in the Tropics, +the Bishop still continued to enjoy bacon and eggs with unabated +relish, and these did something, this morning, to mitigate his ill +humour. A fresh papaya, with a dozen seeds left in as flavouring, also +helped. Finally the boy came in and laid letters by his plate. Home +letters, bearing the familiar postmarks, so dear to dwellers in +outlying parts of the world. A small Malay kriss, with a handle of +ivory and silver and a blade of five waves served as letter opener. +The Bishop slit each envelope carefully, and laid the pile back on the +table, to be read slowly, with full enjoyment. One by one he went +through them, smiling a little, or frowning, as it happened. The mail +from Home was early this week--evidently it had come in last evening, +although he had not seen the steamer in the roads. All the better--all +the more of a surprise. + +He stopped suddenly, anxiously, and an open letter in his hand +trembled violently. He finished it hurriedly, went through it a second +time, and again once more before he could acknowledge its meaning. + + "MY DEAR BROTHER" [it began, with a formality about the opening + that boded trouble], "I write to you in great distress, but + sure that you will respond to the great demand I am about to + make upon you, upon all the kindness which you have shown us + for these many years. Herbert, your namesake, is in deep + trouble--disgrace, I might better say. Never mind the details. + They are sufficiently serious, sufficiently humiliating. We + have managed to cover it up, to conceal what we can, but for + the present at least, or until this blows over, it is + impossible for him to remain at home. It has all come about so + suddenly, so unexpectedly, that there has been no time to write + to you to obtain your consent. But he must leave home at once, + and there is no one to whom we can send him except yourself. In + his present position, feeling the deep dishonour that he has + brought upon himself, upon all of us in fact, we do not dare to + send him forth into the world alone. Therefore, without delay, + we are sending him to you, feeling sure of your response. Under + your guidance and care, with the inestimable benefits that he + will derive through the association with such a man as + yourself, we hope that he will recover his normal balance. Take + him in, do what you can for him for all our sakes. He has + always been devoted to you, although it was a lad's + devotion--you have not seen him for several years, and he is + now twenty. Put him to work, do whatever you think best for + him; we give him entirely into your hands. We turn to you in + this hour of our distress, knowing that you will not fail us. + + "Such is the urgency, that he is going out to you on the boat + that carries this letter. Failing that, he will leave in any + event on the boat of the following week. We regret that there + has not been sufficient time to prepare you. He will be no + expense, being well provided with funds, although in future I + shall make out his remittances in your name. In haste, in + grief, and with all love, + + "Your affectionate brother, + + "ALLAN." + +The Bishop sat thunderstruck in his chair, aghast at his predicament. +Here was a pretty situation! A scapegrace nephew, who had done heavens +knew what dishonourable thing--the Bishop thought of a dozen things +all at once, all equally disgraceful and equally probable,--was about +to be quartered upon him, in his peaceful, ordered, carefree life, for +an indefinite period! Really, it was intolerable. What did he, the +Bishop, know of young men and their difficulties? Who was he to guide +the footsteps of an erring one? What practical experience had he in +such matters--it was one thing to expound certain niceties of +theological doctrine, which, after all, had little bearing on daily +life--and quite another to become guardian and preceptor to a young +scamp. For he was a scamp, obviously. And of all places in the world, +to send a weak, undisciplined person out to the Colony--this rather +notorious Colony where even those of the highest principles had some +difficulty in holding to the path. It was obvious that the place for +this young man was in his home--in the home of his father and mother, +who while they had doubtless spoiled him, must nevertheless retain a +certain influence. He needed all the kindness and loving care that a +home could give. The Bishop sought refuge in platitudes, for of such +consisted his daily thoughts, running through his brain in certain +well defined, well worn brain paths. Then a wave of indignation passed +over him concerning his brother--the selfishness of turning his son +out, at this time of all times! Of shirking responsibility towards +him, of turning that responsibility over to another! To another whom +he had not even consulted! All his life his brother had had what he +wanted--riches, a beautiful home, an easy life. Yet at the first +breath of trouble he evaded his responsibilities and dumped them upon +another! + +The Bishop worked himself up into a fine fury, seeing his future plans +upset, his easy-going life diverted from its normal, flowing course by +the advent of this scapegrace nephew. His eyes rested once more upon +the letter: "He is going out to you on the boat that carries this +letter." If so, then he must have already landed and would appear at +any moment. For the mailboat must have come in last night, and the +passengers had either been put ashore last evening, or had been put +ashore at sunrise, supposing the boat remained discharging cargo all +night. It was now eight o'clock. The youth should have been here. +Apparently, then, he had failed to catch this boat, and was coming the +following week. But the Bishop was troubled; he must go into town and +make sure. Since he was to be burdened with the rascal for a week (but +only for a week, he would send him packing home by the next boat, he +promised himself) his sense of duty prompted him to act at once. He +raised his fine, thin hands and clapped them together smartly. + +"Rickshaw! Quickly!" he ordered the China-boy who appeared in answer +to his summons. A few minutes later he descended the broad steps of +the verandah and entered his neat, black rickshaw, with highly +polished brasses, drawn by two boys in immaculate white livery. The +Bishop kept no carriage--that would have seemed ostentatious--but his +smart, black rickshaw was to be seen all over town, stopping before +houses of high and low degree, but mostly high. + +He reached the quais after a sharp run, passing the godowns filled +with rubber, which gave forth its peculiar, permeating odour upon the +heavy, stagnant air of the harbourside. No, the mailboat had gone on, +had weighed anchor early in the morning, at sunrise, they told him, +and had continued on her way up the coast. No such passenger as he +described had been landed--no one by that name. The Bishop, leaning +upon the worn counter in the dingy shipping office, scrutinised the +passenger list carefully. There was a name there, certainly, that +suggested his nephew's, but with two or three wrong letters. Not +enough for a positive identification, but perhaps done purposely, as a +disguise. Could the youth have deliberately done this? It was +possible. When pressed for a description, the Bishop was most hazy. He +could only say that he was searching for a young man, about twenty. +The agent told him that twenty young men, about twenty, had come +ashore. The Bishop was not quite satisfied, was vaguely uneasy, but +there was nothing to be done. However, when the day passed and no +nephew appeared, he drew a long breath of relief. He was safe for +another week. Had a week before him in which to formulate his plans. +And he would formulate them too, he promised himself, and would put +the responsibility of this irresponsible young creature back upon the +shoulders where it belonged. It was a great temptation not to return +to the shipping office again and engage a berth on the next homeward +bound liner, but on second thought, he determined not to do so. Above +all things he prided himself on being just and liberal. He would give +his nephew a week's trial in the Colony, after which the letter +returning him to his father would bear the air of resigned but +seasoned judgment, rather than the unreasoning impulse of a moment's +irritation. A week's guardianship, and--well, so it should be. Nothing +longer, no greater incursion into his smooth, harmonious existence. + +The week of anticipation passed slowly. After the first shock was +over, after the first sense of imposition had passed away, and he +found himself with a week for consideration, he became more decided +than ever on his course of action. Mentally, he began many letters to +his brother, usually beginning, "I regret exceedingly," from which +beginning he launched out into well balanced, well phrased excuses, of +admirable logic, by means of which he proved the imperative necessity +of finding other anchorage for this stray and apparently very frail +bark. Of necessity these letters were vague, since he did not know +what particular form of frailty he had to contend with. Of one thing, +however, he was sure--the Colony offered opportunities for the +indulgence of every form known to man, with none of those nice +restrictions which are thrown round such opportunities in more +civilized parts of the globe. He would explain all this at length, as +soon as he knew upon which points to concentrate his argument. But, +take it by and large, there were no safeguards of any sort, and only +the strongest and most upright could walk uprightly amidst such +perils. + +The coming of the next liner was awaited with much anxiety. The Bishop +had gone so far as to confide to a few friends that a young nephew +would arrive with her, for a week's stay--on his way elsewhere. He +remembered the boy, his namesake. Rather a handsome little chap as he +recalled him--perhaps under more auspicious circumstances it might +have been a pleasure to have had a visit from him. But this suddenly +becoming endowed with him for weeks or months--it might be years, +perhaps--quite another matter. + +When the mailboat arrived one afternoon, the Bishop's rickshaw stood +at the jetty, while the Bishop himself, in his immaculate gaiters, +with his sash blowing in the soft wind, stood at the end of the jetty +anxiously regarding the tender making its way inshore. She was crowded +with a miscellaneous throng of passengers, among whom were many young +men, all strange, new, expectant young men coming out for the first +time, but among them he saw no face that resembled the one he was +searching for. Which might possibly be, he reflected, since the face, +as he recalled it at the time of their last meeting many years ago, +was very childish and immature. The tender made fast to the steps, and +amidst much luggage, much scrambling of coolies and general disorder, +the passengers came off. The Bishop standing on the steps scrutinised +each one carefully. Not there. Nor was there a second trip to the +liner, since the tender had fetched ashore all who were to disembark +at that port. The Bishop turned away with mingled feelings, part +relief, part indignation. Another week of suspense to be gone through +with, and after that, another week before he could release himself of +his burden. It was all exceedingly trying and unreasonable--the +feeling of irritation against his brother mounted higher--it was +outrageous, keeping him upset this way. + +Then a thought suddenly came into his mind. That name on the passenger +list a week ago, the name slightly different yet curiously +alike--could it have been altered slightly on purpose? Ashamed to face +him, ashamed to come to him? Bundled off in disgrace from home, +willy-nilly, and now here,--hiding? + +A wave of sick apprehension came over the Bishop. Agonising fear. He +must see Walker at once. Walker, his old friend, who would know what +to do, what to advise. If only he were in town. + +Walker was in town as it happened, and the Bishop found him at his +hotel, and poured out to him all his wretched anxieties, the whole +miserable business, not sparing himself in describing his attitude of +unwelcome and unwillingness to receive the boy, and concluding with +his sick fears concerning his safety. Walker listened gravely and +attentively, and was troubled. It was very possible indeed--more than +possible. A search must be begun at once. Fortunately, in that small +community, it was not easy for a foreigner to disappear, and a +stranger could not go inland, into the interior, undetected. +Therefore, if he was here at all, he would soon be found--somewhere. +He would set in motion the machinery immediately. First the hotels; +that was easy. Then the other places. It would doubtless be necessary +to call in the police. + +The Bishop begged for secrecy--no publicity. Walker promised. That, +too, would be easy. Leave it to him. The Bishop might rest easy on +that score--no publicity. Walker would do everything himself, as far +as possible. Only, he might have to send for the Bishop, if it became +necessary, to identify---- + +Two nights later, the Bishop was reclining on the long chair on his +verandah, while overhead the heavy punkah fans swayed to and fro, +stirring the moist, warm air. Out in the harbour the lights gleamed +fitfully, the lanterns on the bobbing sampans contrasting with the +steadier beams of the big ships anchored in the roadway. The ships of +the Orient, congregated from the Seven Seas, full of the mystery and +romance of the East. He had left it to Walker--as he had been told. In +the darkness, with one hand clasped behind his head and the other +holding a glowing cigar, he contemplated the scene, his favourite hour +of the day. Each moment another and another light flitted across the +heavy blackness, showing red or green, while the lights on the moving +sampans darted back and forth in the darkness, restless and alert. He +had left it to Walker. He had stopped thinking of his impending nephew +for a few moments, and his mind had relaxed, as the mind relaxes when +an evil has been postponed from time to time, and normal feeling +reasserts itself after the reprieve. There was a quiet footfall on the +verandah, and the Bishop was aroused from his meditations. His Chinese +servant approached deferentially. "Man want see Master," he explained +laconically, with the imperturbability of the East. + +"What like man?" enquired the Bishop, in pidgin English. "China man," +came the response. "Must see Master. All belong velly important." + +A quick foreboding possessed the Bishop, even in this hour of his +tranquillity. + +"Show him here," he replied, after a second's consideration. A tall +figure appeared before him, bowing. A lean, very dirty Chinese, who +bowed repeatedly. In spite of the Oriental repression of feeling, it +was plain that he was troubled. He extended a lean, claw-like hand, +with a long and very dirty nail on the little finger, and offered a +soiled letter to the Bishop. + +"Velly important. All belong much tlouble," he explained, and tucked +his hands well inside his long blue sleeves, and stood by impassively, +while the Bishop received the letter, crumpled and soiled, as if +carried for a long time in a pocket. He turned it over and found it +addressed to himself. There was no stamp. The handwriting was +Walker's. The Bishop started erect in his long chair, and then sprang +up, straddling it as usual. + +"Where get this?" he asked excitedly. The impassive Chinese bowed once +more. + +"Say come quick. Letter velly important. Letter belong you. No police. +My savee you want letter now." He backed away, still bowing. With a +sweep of his arm he indicated the dark night outside. + +"You come quick," he repeated, "or call police." By the light of a +lamp which his obsequious but curious Chinese servant carried in, the +Bishop tore open Walker's letter, read it, then crushed it hurriedly +into his pocket. + +"Come quick," reiterated the unknown Chinese, "I got lickshaw." The +Bishop strode forward across the verandah, snatching at his hat as he +went, and then hastened across the lawn with hurried steps, followed +by the Chinese pacing rapidly behind him. Two rickshaws were waiting +under the street lamp, two shabby rickshaws. Yet somehow, the Bishop +did not care for his own private conveyance at this moment, did not +wish the sharp, inquisitive eyes of his runners to follow him just +then. He mounted hastily, and the coolies started off with a will, the +Chinese leading the way. Even in that moment of anxiety, the Bishop +was aware that the Chinese was leading the way, was conscious that the +place of honour was not his--for the first time in his life, his +vehicle followed, second place, a rickshaw that carried a Chinese. + +The distance seemed interminable. Fortunately, at that hour few of his +acquaintances were abroad, but in the anxiety which possessed him, he +scarcely realised it. He was conscious of passing through crowded +streets, the quarter of the Mohammedans, where incense pots were +alight, scenting the warm air. Then the vile-smelling bazaar, crowded +with buyers, bargaining and shouting under the swaying torches. Then +they passed the European section of the town, where the streets were +wide, clean and deserted. They must be going back of the quais now, +for the air was heavy with the acrid scent of rubber. Then they turned +into a narrow, wildly tumultuous street full of Chinese, scattered all +over the road and sidewalk, shouting, calling, beating drums, yelling +wares for sale, the babel of the Chinese quarter, only such as the +Bishop had never seen it. The rickshaws turned many times, up narrow +lanes and alleys, across wider thoroughfares, and finally halted +before a dingy house of many storeys, a foreign-style house, converted +to native uses. They stopped before a red painted door, a double door, +in two halves, like a saloon door. Over the entrance hung a sign, +black and white, in large, sprawling Chinese characters. +Subconsciously, he was aware that he had passed such signs, in such +characters, many times before. A curious and large crowd gathered +before the house parted at their approach, and the filthy Chinese led +the way, followed by the Bishop in his immaculate garb. As they passed +in and the swing doors closed behind them, a throng of yellow faces +peered down and looked under the door, which was hung high. And all +the while, the low, insistent shuffling noises of the crowd outside +penetrated into the dark, dimly lit room in which the Bishop and his +companion found themselves. + +Around three sides of this room, which was narrow, ran a wide bench +covered with dirty matting. Lying at intervals in pairs all along the +bench, were two coolies in a little pen, with a lamp between them, +separated by a narrow ridge from the pen adjoining, which held two +more ragged smokers. The Bishop beheld rows of them, haggard, pallid +rows. A horn lantern was suspended from the ceiling, and the air was +unstirred by punkah, the heavy, foul air reeking with the sickening, +pungent fumes of opium. As he passed, the smokers raised themselves on +their elbows and gazed at him with glazed, dull eyes. The sight of a +Bishop in a low class opium den was unusual, and the dimmed brains of +the smokers dimly recognised the distraction. Then, as he moved on, +they sank down again upon their wooden pillows, and with slow, +infinite pains, set themselves to roll their bits of opium, to cook it +over the dim lamps that dotted the murky atmosphere with glints of +light, and to resume their occupations. + +At the back of the room, the proprietor paused before a part of the +bench where the pen was occupied by one smoker only, a foreigner. The +foreigner lay stretched out in an awkward attitude, knees drawn up, +his head sliding off the wooden block, most uncomfortable. A candle +was thrust into the Bishop's unsteady hand. + +"Looksee," whispered a voice. The Bishop looked. "All lite?" +questioned the anxious voice of the proprietor, "Die lil' while ago. +No can smoke like China boys. No can do." + +The Bishop continued to look at the beautiful, disdainful head of the +young foreigner, sliding limply off its wooden pillow. + +"All lite?" continued the whining voice insistently. "My got money. +Have got watch. No steal." A skinny hand with filthy fingernails crept +forth and thrust itself into the pockets of the limp waistcoat, +crumpled so pitifully upon the thin, young figure, and presently a +gold watch was drawn forth. The watch was slowly waved before the +Bishop's eyes, and the case snapped open, so that he could read the +name engraved within. After which the Bishop continued to gaze fixedly +upon the dead youth, lying disgraced upon a bench in one of the lowest +opium dives in the Colony. + +"Smoke here week," went on the insistent voice of the proprietor, "all +time smoke. No go out. No eat. Smoke all same China-boy. No same +China-boy. No can do." + +There was a slight movement at the back of the room, and an object was +passed from hand to hand and finally held for inspection under the +Bishop's nose. In a grimy frame, protected by a square of fly-brown +glass, was a square, official-looking bit of paper. Of value +evidently, since much care had been taken to preserve it. + +"License," went on the explanatory voice. "Gov'ment license. All samee +Gov'ment license. Pay heap money. No can help if man die. Plenty +China-boy die too. This velly lespectable place." + +The Bishop recalled himself as from a dream. During the few moments he +had spent looking down upon the huddled figure, he seemed to have +grown older, to have shrunken down, to have lost something of his +fine, arrogant hearing and conscious superiority. + +"All lite?" whined the voice insistently. "All lite?" "Yes," said the +Bishop shortly, "it's all right." He strode rapidly through the foul +room, through the heavy, tainted, pungent air. Outside, the dense +crowd pressed closely about the swinging doors scattered widely as he +approached. Two policemen were coming down the street, attracted by +the excitement of the crowd. The Bishop got into a rickshaw and drove +homewards. A heavy weight seemed to have been lifted from his mind. +Through the oppressive, hot night air the Canterbury chimes pealed +their mellow notes. + +"Thank God," said the Bishop fervently, "it was not _my_ nephew." + + + + +UNDER A WINEGLASS + + + + +VIII + +UNDER A WINEGLASS + + +A little coasting steamer dropped anchor at dawn at the mouth of +Chanta-Boun creek, and through the long, hot hours she lay there, +gently stirring with the sluggish tide, waiting for the passage-junk +to come down from Chanta-Boun town, twelve miles further up the river. +It was stifling hot on the steamer, and from side to side, whichever +side one walked to, came no breeze at all. Only the warm, enveloping, +moist heat closed down, stifling. Very quiet it was, with no noises or +voices from the after deck, where under the awning lay the languid +deck passengers, sleeping on their bedding rolls. Very quiet it was +ashore, so still and quiet that one could hear the bubbling, sucking +noises of the large land-crabs, pattering over the black, oozy mud, or +the sound of a lean pig scratching himself against the piles of a +native hut, the clustered huts, mounted on stilts, of the village at +the mouth of the creek. + +The Captain came down from the narrow bridge into the narrow saloon. +He was clad in yellow pajamas, his bare feet in native sandals, and +held a well pipeclayed topee in one hand. Impatient he was at the +delay of the passage-junk coming down from up-river, with her possible +trifling cargo, and possible trifling deck-passengers, of which the +little steamer already carried enough. + +"This long wait--it is very annoying," he commented, sitting upon the +worn leather cushions of the saloon bench. "And I had wished for time +enough to stop to see the lonely man. I have made good time on this +trip--all things considered. With time to spare, to make that call, +out of our way. And now the good hours go by, while we wait here, +uselessly." + +"The lonely man?" asked the passenger, who was not a deck-passenger. +He was the only saloon passenger, and because of that, he slept first +in one, then in the other of the two small cabins, alternating +according to which side the wind blew from. + +"You would not mind, perhaps," continued the Captain, "if, after +all--in spite of this long delay--we still found time for the lonely +man? An unscheduled call, much out of our way--oh, a day's sail from +here, and we, as you know, go slowly----" + +"Three days from now--four days from now--it matters little to me when +we reach Bangkok," said the passenger largely, "but tell me of this +man." + +Upon the sideboard, under an inverted wineglass, sat a small gilt +Buddha, placed there by the China-boys. The Captain fixed his eyes +upon the Buddha. + +"Like that. Immovable and covered in close, sitting still in a small +space. Covered in. Some one turned a wineglass over on him, long ago, +and now he sits, still and immovable like that. It makes my heart +ache." + +"Tell me. While we are waiting." + +"Three years ago," began the Captain dreamily, still looking at the +tiny gilt Buddha in its inverted wineglass, "he came aboard. Bound for +nowhere in particular--to Bangkok, perhaps, since we were going that +way. Or to any other port he fancied along the coast, since we were +stopping all along the coast. He wanted to lose himself, he said. And, +as you have seen, we stop at many remote, lonely villages, such as +this one. And we have seen many lonely men, foreigners, isolated in +villages such as this one, unknown, removed, forgotten. But none of +them suited him. He had been looking for the proper spot for many +years. Wandering up and down the coast, in cargo-boats, in little +coasting vessels, in sailing vessels, sometimes in native junks, +stopping here and there, looking for a place where he could go off and +live by himself. He wanted to be quite, absolutely, to himself. He +said he should know the place immediately, if he saw it--recognise it +at once. He said he could find himself if he could get quite +absolutely away. Find himself, that is, recover himself--something, a +part of him which he had lost. Just temporarily lost. He was very +wistful and very eager, and said I must not think him a fool, or +demented. He said he only wanted to be by himself, in the right spot, +to accomplish his purpose. He would accomplish his purpose and then +return. + +"Can you see him, the lonely man, obsessed, going up and down the +China Coast, shipping at distant ports, one after another, on +fruitless quests, looking for a place to disembark. The proper place +to disembark, the place which he should recognise, should know for his +own place, which would answer the longing in him which had sent him +searching round the world, over the Seven Seas of the world. The spot +in which he could find himself again and regain what he had lost. + +"There are many islands hereabouts," went on the Captain. "Hundreds. +Desert. He thought one would suit him. So I put him down on one, going +out of my way to find it for him. He leaned over the rail of the +bridge, and said to me 'We are getting nearer.' Then he said that he +saw it. So I stopped the ship and put him down. He was very grateful. +He said he liked to be in the Gulf of Siam. That the name had a +picturesque sound, the Pirate Islands. He would live all by himself on +one of the Pirate Islands, in the Gulf of Siam. Isolated and remote, +but over one way was the coast of Indo-China, and over the other way +was the coast of Malay. Neighbourly, but not too near. He should +always feel that he could get away when he was ready, what with so +much traffic through the Gulf, and the native boats now and then. He +was mistaken about the traffic, but I did not tell him so. I knew +where he was and could watch him. I placed a cross on the chart, on +his island, so that I might know where I had left him. And I promised +myself to call upon him, from time to time--to see when he should be +ready to face the world again." + +The Captain spread a chart upon the table. + +"Six degrees north latitude," he remarked, "Ten thousand miles +from----" + +"Greenwich," supplied the passenger, anxious to show that he knew. + +"From Her," corrected the Captain. + +"He told me about her a little. I added the rest, from what he +omitted. It all happened quite a long time ago, which was the bother +of it. And because it had taken place so long ago, and had endured for +so long a time, it made it more difficult for him to recover himself +again. Do you think people ever recover themselves again? When the +precious thing in them, the spirit of them has been overlaid and +overlaid, covered deep with artificial layers----? + +"The marvel was that he wanted to regain it--wanted to break through. +Most don't. The other thing is so easy. Money--of course. She had it, +and he loved her. He had none, and she loved him. She had had money +always, had lived with it, lived on it, it got into her very bones. +And he had not two shillings to rub together, but he possessed the +gift--genius. But they met somewhere, and fell in love with each +other, and that ended him. She took him, you see, and gave him all she +had. It was marvellous to do it, for she loved him so. Took him from +his four shilling attic into luxury. Out of his shabby, poor, worn +clothes into the best there were. From a penny 'bus into superb +motors. With all the rest of it to match. And he accepted it all +because he loved her, and it was the easiest way. Besides, just before +she had come into his life, he had written--well, whatever it +was--however, they all praised him, the critics and reviewers, and +called him the coming man, and he was very happy about it, and she +seemed to come into his life right at the top of his happiness over +his work. And sapped it. Didn't mean to, but did. Cut his genius down +at the root. Said his beginning fame was quite enough--quite enough +for her, for her friends, for the society into which she took him. +They all praised him without understanding how great he was, or +considering his future. They took him at her valuation, which was +great enough. But she thought he had achieved the summit. Did not +know, you see, that there was anything more. + +"He was so sure of himself, too, during those first few years. Young +and confident, conscious of his power. Drifting would not matter for a +while. He could afford to drift. His genius would ripen, he told +himself, and time was on his side. So he drifted, very happy and +content, ripening. And being overlaid all the time, deeper and +thicker, with this intangible, transparent, strong wall, hemming him +in, shutting in the gold, just like that little joss there under the +wineglass. + +"She lavished on him everything, without measure. But she had no +knowledge of him, really. Just another toy he was, the best of all, in +her luxurious equipment. So he travelled the world with her, and dined +at the Embassies of the world, East and West, in all the capitals of +Europe and of Asia. Getting restive finally, however, as the years +wore on. Feeling the wineglass, as it were, although he could not see +it. Looking through its clear transparency, but feeling pressed, +somehow, conscious of the closeness. But he continued to sit still, +not much wishing to move, to stretch himself. + +"Then sounds from the other side began to filter in, echoing largely +in his restricted space, making within it reverberations that carried +vague uneasiness, producing restlessness. He shifted himself within +his space, and grew conscious of limitations. From without came the +voices, insistent, asking what he was doing now? Meaning, what thing +was he writing now, for a long time had passed since he had written +that which called forth the praise of men. There came to him, within +his wineglass, these demands from the outside. Therefore he grew very +uneasy, and tried to rise, and just then it was that he began to feel +how close the crystal walls surrounded him. He even wanted to break +them, but a pang at heart told him that was ingratitude. For he loved +her, you see. Never forget that. + +"Now you see how it all came about. He was conscious of himself, of +his power. And while for the first years he had drifted, he was always +conscious of his power. Knew that he had but to rise, to assume +gigantic stature. And then, just because he was very stiff, and the +pain of stiffness and stretching made him uncouth, he grew angry. He +resented his captivity, chafed at his being limited like that, did not +understand how it had come about. It had come about through love. +Through sheer, sheltering love. The equivalent of his for her. She had +placed a crystal cup above him, to keep him safe. And he had sat safe +beneath it all these years, fearing to stir, because she liked him so. + +"It came to a choice at last. His life of happiness with her--or his +work. Poor fool, to have made the choice at that late day. So he broke +his wineglass, and his heart and her heart too, and came away. And +then he found that he could not work, after all. Years of sitting +still had done it. + +"At first he tried to recover himself by going over again the paths +of his youth. A garret in London, a studio off Montparnasse, shabby, +hungry--all no use. He was done for. Futile. Done himself in for no +purpose, for he had lost her too. For you see he planned, when he left +her, to come back shortly, crowned anew. To come back in triumph, for +she was all his life. Nothing else mattered. He just wanted to lay +something at her feet, in exchange for all she had given him. Said he +would. So they parted, heart-broken, crushed, neither one +understanding. But he promised to come back, with his laurels. + +"That parting was long ago. He could not regain himself. After his +failure along the paths of his youth, his garrets and studios, he +tried to recover his genius by visiting again all the parts of the +world he had visited with her. Only this time, humbly. Standing on the +outside of palaces and Embassies, recollecting the times when he had +been a guest within. Rubbing shoulders with the crowd outside, shabby, +poor, a derelict. Seeking always to recover that lost thing. + +"And getting so impatient to rejoin her. Longing for her always. +Coming to see that she meant more to him than all the world beside. +Eating his heart out, craving her. Longing to return, to reseat +himself under his bell. Only now he was no longer gilded. He must gild +himself anew, bright, just as she had found him. Then he could go +back. + +"But it could not be done. He could not work. Somewhere in the world, +he told me, was a spot where he could work. Where there were no +memories. Somewhere in the Seven Seas lay the place. He should know it +when he saw it. After so many years' exclusion, he was certain he +should feel the atmosphere of the place where he could work. And there +he would stay till he finished, till he produced the big thing that +was in him. Thus, regilded, he would return to her again. One more +effort, once more to feel his power, once more to hear the stimulating +rush of praise,--then he would give it up again, quite content to sit +beneath his wine-glass till the end. But this first. + +"So I put him down where I have told you, on a lonely island. Somewhat +north of the Equator, ten thousand miles away from Her. Wistfully, he +said it was quite the right spot. He could feel it. So we helped him, +the China-boys and I, to build a little hut, up on stilts, thatched +with palm leaves. Very desolate it is. On all sides the burnished +ocean, hot and breathless. And the warm, moist heat, close around, +still and stifling. Like a blanket, dense, enveloping. But he said it +was the spot. I don't know. He has been there now three years. He said +he could do it there--if ever. From time to time I stop there, if the +passengers are willing for a day or two's delay. He looks very old +now, and very thin, but he always says it's all right. Soon, very soon +now, the manuscript will be ready. Next time I stop, perhaps. Once I +came upon him sobbing. Landing early in the morning, slipped ashore +and found him sobbing. Head in arms and shoulders shaking. It was +early in the morning and I think he'd sobbed all night. Somehow, I +think it was not for the gift he'd lost--but for Her. + +"But he says over and over again that it is the right spot--the very +right place in the world for such as he. Told me that I must not mind, +seeing him so lonely, so apparently depressed. That it was nothing. +Just the Tropics, and being so far away, and perhaps thinking a +little too much of things that did not concern his work. But the work +would surely come on. Moods came on him from time to time, which he +recognised were quite the right moods in which to work, in which to +produce great things. His genius was surely ripe now--he must just +concentrate. Some day, very shortly, there would be a great rush, he +should feel himself charged again with the old, fine fire. He would +produce the great work of his life. He felt it coming on--it would be +finished next time I called. + +"This is the next time. Shall we go?" asked the Captain. + +Accordingly, within a day or two, the small coastwise steamer dropped +her anchor in a shallow bay, off a desert island marked with a cross +on the Captain's chart, and unmarked upon all other charts of the same +waters. All around lay the tranquil spaces of a desolate ocean, and on +the island the thatched roof of a solitary hut showed among the palms. +The Captain went ashore by himself, and presently, after a little +lapse of time, he returned. + +"It is finished," he announced briefly, "the great work is finished. I +think it must have been completed several weeks ago. He must have +died several weeks ago. Possibly soon after my last call." + +He held out a sheet of paper on which was written one word, +"Beloved." + + + + +CHOLERA + + + + +IX + +CHOLERA + + +There is cholera in the land, and there is fear of cholera in the +land. Both are bad, though they are different. Those who get cholera +have no fear of it. They are simple people and uneducated, fishermen +and farmers, and little tradesmen, and workers of many kinds. Those +who have fear of cholera have more intelligence, and know what it +means. They have education, and their lives are bigger lives--more +imposing, as it were, and they would safeguard them. Those who are +afraid are the foreigners and the officials, yes, even the Emperor +himself. Is he afraid, the Emperor? One can but guess. He has spent +many weeks of this hot summer, when cholera was ravaging his country, +in his summer palace at Nikko. There he was safe. And cholera spread +itself throughout the land, in the seaports, in the capital, across +the rice-fields to the inland villages, taking its toll here and +there, of little petty lives. But dangerous to the Emperor, these +lives, afflicted or cut short, whichever happens. So he is staying +safe at Nikko, in seclusion, waiting for the cool of Autumn to come +and purge his land. + +Once he was to come back to Tokyo, to his capital. For September waned +and he was due there, the Son of Heaven, due in his capital. Many of +his subjects came to the station at Nikko on the day appointed for his +departure, stepping with short steps in their high clogs, tinkling on +the roadside in their clogs, scratching in their sandals. They came in +crowds to the station, at the hour when he was due to enter the royal +train. But when the time came for his departure, he did not go. He +would tarry awhile longer at Nikko. So the crowds were disappointed +and did not understand. Rumour had it that cholera had developed in +the royal household itself--the Purveyor to the Palace, so it was +stated, had contracted the disease. A fish dealer, bringing fish to +the palace, had brought cholera with him. So the Emperor tarries at +Nikko, and the highroad, behind the Imperial Palace in Tokyo is +closed to the public, lest any poor coolie, strolling by, should +become ill and bring this dread thing near to the precincts of the Son +of Heaven. + +The foreigners are very careful as to what they eat. They avoid the +fruits, the ripe, rich Autumn figs, and the purple grapes, and the +hard, round, woody pears, and the sweet butter and many other things. +Oh, these days the rich foreigners are very careful of themselves, and +meal times are not as pleasant as they used to be. They discuss their +food, and wonder about it. And because there is cholera, rife in the +ports, and among the fishermen and sailors, the authorities have +closed the fish market of Tokyo. The great Nihom-Bashi market, down by +the bridge, the vile, evil smelling fish market, lying along the +sluggish canal, is closed. The canal is full of straw thatched boats. +It all smells very nasty in that quarter, it smells like cholera. No +wonder there is cholera, with that smell. No wonder the great market +is closed. So the baskets of bamboo are empty, turned upside down, for +there is no fish in them. The people, bare-legged, nearly naked, stand +idly about the empty fish market, and talk together of this fear +which is abroad, which has ruined their trade. What is this fear? They +cannot understand. They do not know it. Only the Emperor cannot eat +fish now, for some reason, and their business is ruined because of his +caprice. + +It is very hot. All summer has this great heat continued, and it makes +one nervous. Day after day it lasts, unbroken, always the same, +unavoidable. There is no escape from the stifling dampness of it--one +cannot breathe. Over all the land it is like this, this heavy, sultry +heat. It is no cooler when it rains, no dryer when the hot sun shines. +It is enveloping, engulfing. In the big hotel, the leather shoes of +the foreigners become mouldy overnight, and the sweat runs in streams +from the brown bodies of the rickshaw boys. The rickshaw boys of the +big hotel wear clothes, long legged, tight cotton trousers, and +flapping white coats. This is to save the feelings of the foreigners +and the missionaries, who believe that clothing should always be worn, +even in hot weather. So as the rickshaw boy runs along, one can see +his white coat grow damp between the shoulder blades, then wet all +across the back, till it is all wet and sticks to him tight. Yet it is +more modest to wear clothes, when doing the work of a horse. One does +not object to a man doing the work of a horse, provided he dress like +a man. But the coolies toiling at the log carts, and the little +tradesmen in their shops, wear few clothes, because they are +independent of the foreigners. Therefore they seem to suffer less with +the heat, or to suffer less obviously. Ah, but the heat is intense, +overwhelming! Day after day, one cannot breathe. And in it, cholera +goes on. + +They say a typhoon is coming. Word has come from Formosa that a +typhoon is rushing up from the southern seas, from Hong Kong, the +Equator, wherever it is they come from. It will reach us to-night. +That will be better. The heat will go then, blown from the land by the +gigantic blast of the typhoon, zig-zagging up the coast from Formosa. +Well, it is late September--this unnatural heat,--why will it not +leave? Why must it linger till torn like a blanket from the sweating +earth, by this hurricane from the Southern seas? + +Only it did not come--the typhoon. They said it would, but it failed. +Has it gone shooting off into the Pacific, futile? So the damp, +stifling heat lingers, and the toll of cholera rolls slowly upward day +by day. + +It is a long way from Nikko to Tokyo by motor. A hundred miles, when +one can cross the bridge, but the bridge is washed away now, so a +detour of many more miles is necessary, to ferry the motor across the +Tonegawa on a flat bottomed, frail boat. The motor sinks nearly to the +hubs in the blazing, glaring sands of the dry river bed, and many +naked coolies are needed to push and pull it through the hot sands, +and work it into the boat. In the glaring sun of noon, the broad river +lies motionless, like a sheet of glowing steel. Children bathe in the +river, and the sweating coolies dip their brown bodies in it, and the +sun beats down pitiless. A junk gets loose from its moorings, and +drifts down stream, stern first, on the slow current. Who cares? No +one. It will beach itself presently, on a mud flat, and can be +recovered towards evening. The great heat lies over all the land, and +cholera is in the slowly flowing water, and the fishermen and the +coolies and the children live and work and play by the river bank, and +they have no fear of it, because they are ignorant. + +From Nikko to the capital, the road runs through village after +village, endlessly, mile after mile. On each side of the village +street are straw thatched houses, and along the roads coolies bend +under great loads, carried on poles across their shoulders. Black +bulls drag giant loads on two wheeled carts, their masters straining +beside them. The bulls' mouths are open, their tongues hang out, and +saliva drools out in streams. It leaves a wet, irregular wake, in the +dust of the roadside, behind the carts. By and by, the men will stop +for food and drink. They cannot choose what it shall be. They cannot +afford to choose. But the food of the Emperor is carefully selected. +Physicians examine those who handle it, who bring it to the Palace, to +see that they are in good health. They examine the food, disinfect it, +see to its cooking. News of this is in the papers each day, not to +show that the Emperor is afraid, but to set an example to his +subjects. + +In the houses along the roadside, little tradesmen are at work, all +naked in the heat. Or else they are bathing. For all along the high +road from Nikko to the capital, following its every bend and turning, +runs a ditch or channel filled with water. Sometimes the water is +clean and rushing, sometimes foul and stagnant and evil smelling. And +all the way along the high road people are bathing in this ditch or +channel, in the foul or running water, as it happens. They stand +naked, knee deep, men and children, while the women wash and bathe +also, but more modestly. Also, besides their bodies, they wash much +else in this long ditch,--clothes, pots, what-not. Very dirty seems +this channel, sewer, bath tub, as you please. And cholera is abroad in +the land. + +At the entrance to the temples sits the image of Binzuru. Long ago, +when history was new and the gods were young, Binzuru, one of the +sixteen great disciples, broke his vow of chastity by remarking on the +beauty of a woman. So he was put outside the temples. His image no +longer rests upon the altars, with those of the calm, serene ones. +He's disgraced, expelled, no longer fit to sit upon the altars, with +the cold, serene ones, in their colossal calm. He's so human now, +outside the temples. Sitting on a chair for human beings to touch him, +now he's off the altar, he's in contact with humanity. The devout ones +rub his wooden image--there is no bronze or gold in poor Binzuru's +makeup. So the people rub his wooden image, rub his ears, his head, +his forehead, rub his arms, his legs, his shoulders. How they suffer, +human beings! How their bodies ache and suffer, judged by poor +Binzuru's body! For if you rub Binzuru on the part which hurts you in +your body, and then rub your body with a hand fresh from Binzuru, you +will be cured. Your pain will go. That's true. Binzuru is polished +smooth and shining, quite deformed with rubbing--his poor head's a +nubbin! And in gratitude for what he's done for people, he sits now on +a pile of cushions, one for each new cure. Bibs and caps adorn him +too, votive offerings from the faithful whom he's cured. + +But he is no good for cholera, poor Binzuru. You can't reach him quick +enough to rub his stomach, then your own. Cholera's too quick for +that. You can't reach him soon enough. He can't help in this. + +Down the road a stretcher comes, swinging from a bamboo pole, carried +on the shoulders of two men. Over it a mat is thrown, and through the +little open triangle at one end, you see a pair of brown legs lying. +Only legs, no more. Drawn up stiffly, toes clinched. + +Here in the hospital they lie in rows, very quiet. Not an outcry, not +a murmur. Everything is swimming in carbolic. The nurses wear masks +across their mouths and noses. They come and go in clogs, barefooted, +and splash through the carbolic on the floors. This is cholera. These +people, lying so quietly upon their hard pillows, have cholera. It is +not spectacular. All are poor folk, fishermen, sailors, farmers, +shopkeepers, all the ignorant, the stupid, who were not afraid. One is +dying. Nose pinched, gasping, bathed in sweat. The hot air can't warm +him. He is dying, cold. + +So there is cholera in the land, and fear of cholera. Those who were +not afraid have cholera. With them it is a matter of a few days only, +one way or the other. But those who have fear of cholera have +something which lasts much longer, weeks and weeks. Till the heat +breaks. Till the typhoon comes. + + + + +COSMIC JUSTICE + + + + +X + +COSMIC JUSTICE + + +Young Withers bought out his uncle's firm of Withers, Ltd., importers. +He had been associated with his uncle for some years, as a minor +partner, and how he could manage to take over the prosperous Withers, +Ltd. without capital, is one of the mysteries of finance that do not +concern us. Suffice it that he did, everything included, the big +godowns on the quais, shipping rights, the goodwill, stock and +fixtures, and the old compradore, Li Yuan Chang. Most particular was +old Mr. Withers that Li Yuan Chang should be included. "You will never +find a better compradore," he had explained over and over, "in fact, +the business will go to pieces without him." Presumably old Mr. +Withers knew what he was talking about, for Li had been his +interpreter, his accountant, his man of affairs for years. So of +course young Withers made no objection, and considered that he was +very fortunate in having Li stay with him, after the turnover. For old +Li was rich enough to retire by this time, no doubt, as compradores +always find means to put away something year by year over and above +their salaries. But he was scrupulously honest--old Mr. Withers had +full and complete trust in him, and explained to his nephew that he +could leave Tientsin from time to time, for as long a time as he +liked, in fact, and could be sure meanwhile that old Li would look out +for his interests. + +"Just be careful of him," he explained. "He's really invaluable. But +be a little careful of him--considerate, I mean--he's not very +strong----" + +"Chandoo?" asked young Withers suspiciously, by which he meant, was Li +addicted to smoking that cheapest form of opium, the refuse and +scrapings, which was the only grade that all but the richest could +afford. + +"Oh never," replied old Mr. Withers, "never. In all the years I've had +him. Never touches a pipe. Temperate and austere in all things, to a +degree. But he is getting old now and needs humouring--likes to feel +his importance, does not care to be overlooked in the way young men +may be inclined to overlook him,--his work, I mean. Besides, he's not +very strong, rather delicate in fact, so you must be easy with him. +But you'll never get a better compradore, and he's good for many years +yet--or until you learn the ropes." + +After which old Mr. Withers concerned himself very earnestly in the +preparations for his departure, for he was leaving China for a better +land,--England, I mean. + +Young Withers set about learning the business under the direction of +old Li. Which greatly complimented old Li, who liked being deferred to +by a European. And young Withers being very easy-going, and having +fallen into a business which required no up-building, being already in +its stride, most successful, he left a good many of the details to his +compradore, and bragged about him a good deal, saying that indeed he +had inherited from his uncle a most wonderful and competent man of +affairs. Therefore he was greatly astonished one day, about two years +after his accession, when Li asked for a vacation--a long one. + +"Want go America," explained the Chinese succinctly. Young Withers was +dumbfounded. + +"But you can't go America!" he explained, "no can go. What become of +business here in Tientsin if you go America? No can do." + +Li had had his own way about many things during a great number of +years, and opposition, no matter from what motives, meant nothing to +him. He settled his big horn spectacles more firmly on his nose, and +flecked invisible dust from his rich black brocade coat. + +"Want go America," he repeated without emphasis. + +"Whatever for?" asked young Withers, to whom a desire to go to America +was incomprehensible. He himself had never felt a desire to go to +America, and that his old compradore should be so obsessed was past +his understanding. Besides, he could imagine somewhat what would +befall the old gentleman, who after many years was only able to speak +pidgin-English, who never wore European clothes, and who had managed +to retain his magnificent queu in spite of all the troubles following +the Boxer business. Old Withers had managed to preserve Li's queu for +him. Took him into his compound and sheltered him, and finally got a +permit from the Legation to allow him to wear it. Li was enormously +proud of this queu, which was long and thick and glossy, and its +length enhanced by a black silk cord, neatly plaited in towards the +end--altogether, it came nearly down to his heels, the envy and +admiration of many a Chinese gentleman who had been abruptly shorn +before help arrived. Young Withers visualised his dignified compradore +the figure of fun to irreverent American crowds. He sincerely wished +to preserve him from what he felt must be an unpleasant experience. He +was even more anxious to protect his old friend from what would +probably be in store for him, than through any selfish desire to +retain his services. + +"Come back again four month," observed Li. "Not long time. Want to +go." Young Withers sighed. It was impossible to explain to the old +man. There were pitfalls and pitfalls, he well knew. Yet he had never +been to America himself, so could not speak from experience. Only the +evening before he had been dining in company with a wise woman of +sorts, a French lady who had lived in a cave in Tibet for some years, +pursuing reluctant hermits into their mountain fastnesses in order to +obtain elucidation on certain Buddhist books. She had told him frankly +that she was bound back again for her cave, or for the wilds of +Mongolia, but never, under any circumstances, could she trust herself +to the risks of American civilization. Young Withers tried to explain +something of this to the old man, who was very patient and did not +interrupt him, but the seed was falling on barren ground. If he could +just understand English better, thought Withers, I might be able to +make him see. So Withers' oratory was lost, to a large degree, and +when he came to a pause Li repeated, without emphasis, + +"Want go America." + +"But you're too old!" exclaimed the young man, exasperated by such +obstinacy. "Too--you're too--you're not strong enough. You're +too--delicate----" + +"Want go America. Four month. Come back then," said Li, and Withers +gave it up. Two weeks later Li was standing on the deck of a small +Japanese liner bound from Tientsin to Kobe, from which port he would +transship to a larger Japanese liner bound for San Francisco. He took +with him many bundles of odd sizes, wrapped in coarse blue cotton, +seemingly of no value. He waved a dignified farewell from the rail, +and young Withers, on the dock, watched the departure of his old +compradore with infinite misgivings. + +Four months, including the passage both ways, proved much too long a +time in which to see America. Li returned unexpectedly one day, within +half that time, a silent and broken man. His blue bundles, whatever +their mystery, were gone, his rich brocade coat was gone, and gone +also was his confidence and trust in human kind. Only his thick, +glossy, long queu remained to him,--that, and a singular taciturnity. +Whatever his experiences, no word would he speak concerning them--he +preserved a rigid silence. Something had been broken in the old man, +there beyond the seas, and whatever had befallen him was abhorrent and +unspeakable. He seemed very much older, very much more frail, and his +thin, fine hands were always trembling in a manner unaccustomed. Young +Withers was in distress, for Li's distress was so obvious, his +singular reticence making him suffer still more. + +"Those thugs in San Francisco must have cleaned out the old fellow +first day on shore," he concluded, and then thought no more about it. +It was pitiful to see the old man, however, pitiful to watch him going +about his duties with the recollection of his terrible days in the New +World undermining his spirits and vitality. The secret, whatever it +was that had befallen him, was sapping his frail strength. Only on one +occasion, several months later, did he bring up the subject. He +appeared suddenly before Withers' desk one day, and there was an angry +gleam in his spectacled eyes. + +"Your uncle never let me go America. Twenty years with your uncle. +Very good man. Never can go." He turned away abruptly. + +"By Jove," thought young Withers to himself, "the old chap's holding +me responsible. Blaming it all on me. I like that!" and he laughed a +little, uneasily. These Chinese were queer ones. You never knew how +they stood. + +The firm of Withers, Ltd. was very busy. Every week or so ships came +into the harbour with boxes and bales of European merchandise of a +rather shoddy kind, intended for the markets of North China. And there +was much business in transferring these boxes and bales to the big +godowns, with their heavy iron doors and windows, in checking them up, +sorting them out--in short, all the sort of activity that goes with a +firm of importers, such as this one. Also there was much business in +distributing these boxes and bales, or rather the contents thereof, to +the railway station, for shipment to Peking and to remote provinces in +the north and west. In Peking, these shoddy goods were made into +smaller bales, and laden on camels, for some far off, remote +destination in the interior. This took Withers frequently to Peking, +leaving old Li in charge of the godowns in Tientsin. Withers always +took charge of this end of the business, because of the opportunity it +offered to get away from daily contact with his old compradore. +Somehow, he felt rather uneasy in the old man's presence. There was a +change in his manner, most marked. Again and again that remark +occurred to him, and again and again, in the compradore's presence, +Withers was conscious of a feeling of undefinable hostility. He holds +me responsible, he thought, absurd, but that's what it is. Because I +did not prevent him from going to America. Therefore Withers was very +glad to go to Peking from time to time, for he liked the excitement of +the barbaric capital, and besides, he thought it would be good for Li +to be quite on his own in charge of the godowns, and might distract +his thoughts from that obsession which was preying upon him. + +One day, after an absence of two weeks, young Withers returned to his +Tientsin office, which wore a somewhat deserted air. The shroff was +clicking on his abacus, and left off snicking the beads up and down to +remark casually that the compradore had gone. The shroff was a young +Chinese who spoke excellent, mission-school English, and wore good +European clothes, and he shared Withers' astonishment that such a +thing had happened. + +"Wanted to go home, he said. Had had enough business. Gone home ten +days ago, with his family. Said say good-bye to you." + +Withers' first feeling was of relief. That's that, he thought to +himself, and just as well. He stood eyeing the young Chinese +accountant, and the shroff looked him back fairly in the eye, and the +same thought passed through both minds. A younger man would do just as +well as compradore, and here was the younger man at hand, waiting. +"Let's go down to the godowns," said Withers, and the two walked out +of the office together, in the direction of the quais. The shroff +should learn things from the beginning, and taking charge of the bales +and boxes in the warehouses, counting them, distributing their +contents, was part of the business. + +On unlocking the great, heavy doors, the godowns presented a singular +aspect. Never, in all the years that young Withers had been associated +as junior partner in Withers, Ltd., and never in the few years since +he had become Withers, Ltd. himself, had the godowns presented such an +aspect. They were empty. Quite, stark, utterly empty. Not a bale, not +a box, not a yard of calico was to be found anywhere about. The +sunshine slanted in through the open door, and not a moat of dust +danced in the rays, for nothing had been disturbed for some time, and +the dust was settled. They went top-side, into the lofts. The same +thoroughness presented itself. Everything had been cleared out, +absolutely. + +"Stolen!" exclaimed Withers. + +"Clean-sweep!" said the shroff, in his mission-school English. + +"Ruined!" added Withers to himself. + +Together they hurried back to the office and examined things. It was +evident in a moment how it had been done. Withers had signed an order +for the removal of five boxes. The compradore had deftly added a +cipher and raised it to fifty. And so on. Done repeatedly, with +neatness and precision, over Withers' own signature. No wonder the +streets about the godowns had presented an air of activity at times. + +"We must find him," said Withers, "catch him quickly, before he has +time to dispose of the money." + +The old compradore had made no effort to hide his whereabouts. There +were a dozen people to whom he had said farewell, telling them that he +had now given up work and was retiring with his family to his home in +the Western Hills. Over Jehol way. Three weeks by cart. Aye, his cart +had come down from Peking to fetch him, a two days' journey. He was +not taking the train. He had started early one morning in his big, +blue-hooded cart, drawn by a gorgeous yellow mule, its harness inlaid +with jade stones. Not number-one jade, of course, but still jade, and +of value. Ten days ago he had gone. + +Withers and the shroff caught the first train out for Peking, and +arriving in two hours, made hasty preparations for their journey. They +obtained a cart and a mule, bedding rolls and tinned food, and by +afternoon had set out through the West Gate of the Tartar City, over +the dusty plains towards the Western Hills. Over Jehol way, towards a +village beyond Jehol, up in the hills, where Li Yuan Chang had his +dwelling. + +Travelling is slow in a Peking cart, and uncomfortable. The heavy, +springless vehicle lumbered along, bouncing over the deep, dried ruts, +at times sinking hub deep into the dry holes. There were times when +the road was below the level of the adjacent fields, so deep below +that even the hood of the cart was below them, worn as they were by +centuries of travel. At these times, the dust swept through the +narrow channel, blinding. Once or twice they ran into a dust storm +whirling down from the north, from the great Gobi Desert, beyond. Then +they drew down the curtains of the cart, suffocating inside, tossed +from side to side, up and down, by the hard jolting of the vehicle. By +night they rested at wayside inns, sometimes finding the compounds +filled with camels, great shaggy brutes that lay about at all angles, +over the courtyard, and snorted and nipped at the intruders. They +slept at night in their cart, wrapping up well in their bedding rolls, +shivering at times in the keen October wind. Their coolies shared the +k'ang within, with the camel drivers and other travellers, but Withers +and the shroff preferred the cart, for there were worse if smaller +animals than camels to be found in native hostelries. Toilsome, weary +days succeeded one another, broken by restless nights, yet ever they +pushed westward, slowly, laboriously. + +The coolies brought them news of the wayside, gathering it each night +from the inns. A great mandarin had passed that way some days ago--a +great man surely, to judge by the length of the axles of his cart, +which stuck out a good foot beyond the hubs, marking him as a man of +importance. And a great yellow mule, with harness set with jade +stones, and the brasses polished,--oh, a very rich man, evidently! So +each night they heard accounts of the rich man who had gone ahead, +with his retinue, his family and servants and packmules. It was well +noised abroad, evidently, through the countryside. Travellers coming +from beyond Jehol had met him with his train, and the inns at which +they stopped always had news of his progress, outward bound. In a +hurry, too. And very fearful of the roadside dangers. Always in the +compounds before dusk, fearful of highwaymen. + +To Withers, the suspense of the slow journey was well nigh unbearable. +He, too, was in a hurry, worn with fatigue and anxiety. At first, he +had been merely anxious to overtake the old man, to obtain +restitution. But with the wayside gossip prevailing, other fears +entered his mind. One day at noon time, they entered a village +apparently deserted. The heavy gates of the compounds were closed, not +a person visible in the long, straggling street. Every one had +withdrawn himself into his house, behind locked and bolted doors. At +the inn, they pounded repeatedly on the gates, asking admission. +Slowly, after a very long time, the gates were opened an inch, and it +could be seen that there was the pressure of many men on the inside, +ready to slam and bar them in an instant. Then, seeing they were but +travellers, they were hastily admitted into the courtyard, and the +gates closed and barred again. Bandits. A band of them was scouring +the country, thirty or more, down from Mongolia. Abject terror was on +every face. The whole village was under its spell. + +"We must push on," said Withers, "we must hasten." The shroff was very +fearful, but as he was to be compradore now, to do the work of a +European, he could not show fear. But the mafu and the coolies were +too frightened to continue the journey, so they were left behind, and +Withers and the shroff went off by themselves. It was very foolhardy, +he told himself, it was sheer madness. But he was ruined anyhow, so it +did not much matter. Only, he must somehow reach the village three +days' journey beyond Jehol--if only he could arrive in time. + +Very laborious was the travelling, and they walked in the wake of +fear. They now passed through many deserted villages, one after +another, locked and barred, that the murderous band from Mongolia had +ridden through. Only, they had gone ahead, the bandits--perhaps they +would not he riding back that way again. Perhaps they would be going +on, into the north again, after they had finished---- + +Finished? Yes, it was a very rich man they were after,--they had asked +for him all along the road. They were trailing him to his home, +following with great ease the description of the great mandarin, with +the great yellow mule with jade-set harness, who had gone by with his +retinue just before. + +So Withers and the shroff continued their desolate journey, day by +day, across the plains, over such roads as are not, save in North +China. Passing through villages shut and empty, through fields in +which there were no workers, following in the train of terror that had +been spread over the land by the bandits from the north. And the +terror reached into Withers' heart, making it cold. They do not want +_us_, he said to himself, over and over. We are quite safe. But the +old man---- The little shroff, however, who was also filled with +terror, did not think they were safe at all. Only he must appear as +brave as a European, so he could only tremble inwardly. Besides all +that, the big mule was very difficult to manage, and they had to drag +the cart from the deep ruts many times a day, and each evening when +they were most tired, they had to calm the suspicions of those within, +and make long explanations before the inn gates, before they could be +admitted into the compounds. + +They arrived at their destination at dusk one evening, after three +weeks' weary travel. Trembling fingers pointed out the house--trembling, +but in a manner, reassured. At the end of the long street they would +find the house, a very fine house indeed--formerly a mandarin's palace, +they explained, but purchased a few months ago by a rich man who had +come there with his family to live. The tired men and tired mule pushed +on through the long street, gazed upon curiously by clustering Chinese, +huddled in doorways. They came to a high wall topped with broken glass, +a high, strong wall, surrounding a large compound. Beyond, at the +entrance, stood two stone lions, such as mark the homes of the rich and +great. But the great stone guardian lions were guarding a broken door. +The high, red lacquered door was split into many pieces, the hinges +holding, but the doors themselves split, so that a man's body could +crawl through. + +Withers led the way, the shroff following. Within, the compound was +deserted. They made their way to the doors of the main house, which +had been smashed in. The rooms inside were empty, stripped, their +treasures gone, cleaned out. Very much in appearance like the godowns +in Tientsin. They made their way through the silent compound into the +women's compound in the rear. It was the same--ransacked, despoiled. +But there were many compounds and many houses, so together they passed +through moon gates, over elaborate terraces, beside peony mountains, +and summer houses, across delicate rock bridges with marble +balustrades. Silent, deserted, bearing the evidence of thorough +looting. + +Then, quite at the rear, a woman appeared, the number-one wife of Li +Yuan Chang. She peered round the edges of a moon gate, hiding her body +behind it. She recognised Withers and the shroff and came forward. She +was very apologetic, very embarrassed, for she was wearing coolie +clothes. Her own, she explained, had been taken from her by the +bandits. Timidly she approached them, but the timidity was +embarrassment. She was very embarrassed to be found in coolie clothes, +felt resentment at the humiliation, and apologised repeatedly for her +appearance. She could think of nothing else. Then she led the way +still further to the rear, to a compound quite behind all the other +compounds and other houses of the gorgeous mandarin's palace. The last +stand of the defenders. They were scattered about the courtyard in all +attitudes, in grotesque and uncouth positions, all dead. She pointed +to a figure lying face downward, a thin, elderly figure, in +blood-soaked black brocade, with a magnificent queu lying at right +angles to the dead body. + +Once more she apologised for appearing before the gentlemen in coolie +clothes. She felt the disgrace keenly. + +"My husband," she explained contemptuously, pointing to the old +compradore, "was unable to protect us. He was always such a delicate +old thing." + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + + +--------------------------------------------------------------+ + | Typographical errors corrected in text: | + | | + | Page 19: felt replaced with left | + | Page 97: comtemptible replaced with contemptible | + | Page 128: apparparently replaced with apparently | + | Page 155: muts replaced with must | + | Page 199: aleady replaced with already | + | | + +--------------------------------------------------------------+ + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CIVILIZATION*** + + +******* This file should be named 19916-8.txt or 19916-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/9/1/19916 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Civilization</p> +<p> Tales of the Orient</p> +<p>Author: Ellen Newbold La Motte</p> +<p>Release Date: November 24, 2006 [eBook #19916]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CIVILIZATION***</p> +<p> </p> +<h4 class="pg">E-text prepared by David Garcia<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net/">http://www.pgdp.net/</a>)<br /> + from page images generously made available by the<br /> + Kentuckiana Digital Library<br /> + (<a href="http://kdl.kyvl.org/">http://kdl.kyvl.org/</a>)</h4> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" style="background-color: #ccccff;"> + <tr> + <td valign="top"> + Note: + </td> + <td> + Images of the original pages are available through the + Kentuckiana Digital Library. See + <a href="http://kdl.kyvl.org/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=kyetexts;cc=kyetexts;xc=1&idno=B92-224-31182876&view=toc"> + http://kdl.kyvl.org/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=kyetexts;cc=kyetexts;xc=1&idno=B92-224-31182876&view=toc</a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<p> </p> +<div class="tr"> +<p class="cen" style="font-weight: bold;">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<br /> +<p class="noin">Inconsistent hyphenation and dialect in the original book have been preserved.</p> +<p class="noin">Obvious typographical errors have been corrected in this text. +For a complete list, please see the <a href="#TN">end of this document</a>.</p> +</div> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h1 style="margin-bottom: .25em;">CIVILIZATION</h1> +<hr style="width: 35%; color: black; background-color: inherit; height: 4pt; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em;" /> +<h2 style="margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em;">TALES OF THE ORIENT</h2> +<hr style="width: 35%; color: black; background-color: inherit; height: 4pt; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em;" /> +<h2 style="margin-top: .25em;">ELLEN N. LA MOTTE</h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> + + +<h1>CIVILIZATION</h1> +<h2>TALES OF THE ORIENT</h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3 style="margin-bottom: .25em;">BY</h3> +<h2 style="margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em;">ELLEN N. LA MOTTE</h2> +<h4 style="margin-top: .25em;">AUTHOR OF "THE BACKWASH OF WAR," ETC</h4> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="img"> +<img border="0" src="images/logo.png" alt="logo" /> +</div> + + +<h5>NEW YORK<br /> +GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</h5> + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<h5><i>Copyright, 1919,</i><br /> +<i>By George H. Doran Company</i><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<i>Printed in the United States of America</i></h5> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> + +<div class="block2"><p>The stories "Under A Wineglass," "Homesick" and "The Yellow +Streak" are published by courtesy of the <i>Century Magazine</i>.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="toc" id="toc"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<br /> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="50%" summary="Table of Contents"> + <tr> + <td width="80%"> </td> + <td class="tdr" width="20%"><span style="font-size: 80%;">PAGE</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">I</td> + <td> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#THE_YELLOW_STREAK">The Yellow Streak</a></td> + <td class="tdr">11</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">II</td> + <td> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#ON_THE_HEIGHTS">On the Heights</a></td> + <td class="tdr">33</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">III</td> + <td> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#HOMESICK">Homesick</a></td> + <td class="tdr">65</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">IV</td> + <td> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#CIVILIZATION">Civilization</a></td> + <td class="tdr">93</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">V</td> + <td> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#MISUNDERSTANDING">Misunderstanding</a></td> + <td class="tdr">121</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">VI</td> + <td> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#PRISONERS">Prisoners</a></td> + <td class="tdr">141</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">VII</td> + <td> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#CANTERBURY_CHIMES">Canterbury Chimes</a></td> + <td class="tdr">177</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">VIII</td> + <td> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#UNDER_A_WINEGLASS">Under a Wineglass</a></td> + <td class="tdr">217</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">IX</td> + <td> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#CHOLERA">Cholera</a></td> + <td class="tdr">235</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">X</td> + <td> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#COSMIC_JUSTICE">Cosmic Justice</a></td> + <td class="tdr">247</td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="THE_YELLOW_STREAK" id="THE_YELLOW_STREAK"></a><hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h1>THE YELLOW STREAK</h1> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span><br /> + +<h2>I</h2> + +<h3>THE YELLOW STREAK<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> +<br /> + +<p>He came out to Shanghai a generation ago, in those days when Shanghai +was not as respectable as it is now—whatever that says to you. It +was, of course, a great change from Home, and its crude pleasures and +crude companions gave him somewhat of a shock. For he was of decent +stock, with a certain sense of the fitness of things, and the +beach-combers, adventurers, rough traders and general riff-raff of the +China Coast, gathered in Shanghai, did not offer him the society he +desired. He was often obliged to associate with them, however, more or +less, in a business way, for his humble position as minor clerk in a +big corporation entailed certain responsibilities out of hours, and +this responsibility he could not shirk, for fear of losing his +position. Thus, by these acts of civility, more or less enforced, he +was often led into a loose sort of intimacy, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>into companionship with +people who were distasteful to his rather fastidious nature. But what +can you expect on the China Coast? He was rather an upright sort of +young man, delicate and abstemious, and the East being new to him, +shocked him. He took pleasure in walking along the Bund, marvelling at +the great river full of the ships of the world, marvelling at the +crowds from the four corners of the world who disembarked from these +ships and scattered along the broad and sunny thoroughfare, seeking +amusements of a primitive sort. But in these amusements he took no +part. For himself, a gentleman, they did not attract. Not for long. +The sing-song girls and the "American girls" were coarse, vulgar +creatures and he did not like them. It was no better in the back +streets—bars and saloons, gaming houses and opium divans, all the +coarse paraphernalia of pleasure, as the China Coast understood the +word, left him unmoved. These things had little influence upon him, +and the men who liked them overmuch, who chaffed him because of his +squeamishness and distaste of them, were not such friends as he needed +in his life. However, there were few <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>alternatives. There was almost +nothing else for it. Companionship of this kind, or the absolute +loneliness of a hotel bedroom were the alternatives which confronted +him. He had very little money,—just a modest salary—therefore the +excitement of trading, of big, shady deals, said nothing to him. He +went to the races, a shy onlooker. He could not afford to risk his +little salary in betting. Above all things, he was cautious. +Consequently life did not offer him much outside of office hours, and +in office hours it offered him nothing at all. You will see from this +that he was a very limited person, incapable of expansion. Now as a +rule, life in the Far East does not have this effect upon young men. +It is generally stimulating and exciting, even to the most +unimaginative, while the novelty of it, the utter freedom and lack of +restraint and absence of conventional public opinion is such that +usually, within a very short time, one becomes unfitted to return to a +more formal society. In the old days of a generation ago, life on the +China Coast was probably much more exciting and inciting than it is +to-day, although to-day, in all conscience, the checks are off. But +our <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>young man was rather fine, rather extraordinarily fastidious, and +moreover, he had a very healthy young appetite for the normal. The +offscourings of the world and of society rolled into Shanghai with the +inflow of each yellow tide of the Yangtzse, and somehow, he resented +that deposit. He resented it, because from that deposit he must pick +out his friends. Therefore instead of accepting the situation, instead +of drinking himself into acquiescence, or drugging himself into +acquiescence, he found himself quite resolved to remain firmly and +consciously outside of it. In consequence of which decision he +remained homesick and lonely, and his presence in the community was +soon forgotten or overlooked. Shy and priggish, he continued to lead +his lonely life. In his solitary walks along the Bund, there was no +one to take his arm and snigger suggestions into his ear, and lead him +into an open doorway where the suggestions could be carried out. He +had come out to the East for a long term of years, and the prospect of +these interminable years made his position worse. Not that it shook +his decision to remain aloof and detached from the call of the +East—his decision <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>was not shaken in the slightest, which seemed +almost a pity.</p> + +<p>Like all foreigners, of course, he had his own opinions of the +Chinese. They were an inferior, yellow race, and therefore despicable. +But having also a firm, unshakable opinion of his own race, especially +of those individuals of his race in which a yellow streak +predominated, he held the Chinese in no way inferior to these +yellow-streaked individuals. Which argues broadmindedness and +fairmindedness. Of the two, perhaps, he thought the Chinese +preferable—under certain circumstances. Yet he knew them to be +irritating in business dealings, corrupt, dishonest—on the whole he +felt profound scorn for them. But as they had been made to suit the +purposes of the ruling races of the world—such, for example, as +himself, untainted by a yellow streak—he had to that extent, at +least, succumbed to the current opinions of Shanghai. He resolved to +make use of them—of one, at least, in particular.</p> + +<p>He wanted a home. Wanted it desperately. He wanted to indulge his +quiet, domestic tastes, to live in peace a normal, peaceful life, far +apart from the glittering trivialities of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>back streets of the +town. He wanted a home of his own, a refuge to turn to at the end of +each long, monotonous day. You see, he was not an adventurer, a +gambler, a wastrel, and he wanted a quiet home with a companion to +greet him, to take care of him, to serve him in many ways. There was +no girl in England whom he wanted to come out to marry him. Had there +been such a girl, he would probably not have allowed her to come. He +was a decent young man, and the climate was such, here on the China +Coast, that few women could stand it without more of the comforts and +luxury than his small salary could have paid for. So finally, at the +end of a year or two, he got himself the home he wanted, in +partnership with a little Chinese girl who answered every purpose. He +was not in love with her, in any exalted sense, but she supplied +certain needs, and at the end of his long days, he had the refuge that +he craved. She kept him from going to the bad.</p> + +<p>His few friends—friends, however, being hardly the word to apply to +his few casual acquaintances,—were greatly surprised at this. Such an +establishment seemed to them the last <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>sort of thing a man of this +type would have gone in for. He had seemed such a decent sort, too. +Really, a few professed to be quite shocked—they said you never knew +how the East would affect a person, especially a decent person. For +themselves, they preferred looser bonds, with less responsibility. +They said this to each other between drinks, and there was then, as +now, much drinking in Shanghai. A few even said this to each other +quite seriously, as they lay in pairs on opium divans, smoking opium, +with little Chinese girls filling their pipes—girls who would +afterwards be as complaisant as was required. One man who had lost his +last cent at the gambling wheels, professed great astonishment at this +departure from the usual track, a departure quite unnecessary since +there were so many ways of amusing oneself out here in the East. Of +course such unions were common enough, heaven knows—there was nothing +unusual about it. But then such fastidious people did not as a rule go +in for them. It was not the ménage, it was the fact that this +particular young man had set up such, that caused the comment. The +comment, however, was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>short-lived. There was too much else to think +about.</p> + +<p>Rogers liked his new life very much. Never for a moment did he think +of marrying the girl. That, of course, never dawned on him. Recollect, +he was in all things decent and correct, and such a step would have +been suicidal. Until the time came for him to go Home, she was merely +being made use of—and to be useful to the ruling races is the main +object in life for the Chinese. They exist for the profit and benefit +of the superior races, and this is the correct, standard opinion of +their value, and there are few on the China Coast, from Hongkong +upwards, who will disagree with it.</p> + +<p>In time, a son was born to Rogers, and for a while it filled him with +dismay. It was a contingency he had not foreseen, a responsibility he +had not contemplated, had not even thought he could afford. But in +time he grew used to the boy, and, in a vague way, fond of him. He +disturbed him very little, and counted very little in his life, after +all. Later, as the years rolled by, he began to feel some +responsibility towards the child. He despised half-breeds, +naturally—every one does. They <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>are worse than natives, having +inherited the weakness of both ancestries. He was sincerely glad to be +rid of the whole business, when, at the end of about fifteen years, he +was called home to England. It had all served his purpose, this +establishment of his, and thanks to it, he was still clean and +straight, undemoralised by the insidious, undermining influences of +the East. When he returned to his native land, he could find himself a +home upon orthodox lines and live happily ever afterwards. Before he +left Shanghai, he sent his little Chinese girl, a woman long ago, of +course, back to her native province in the interior, well supplied +with money and with the household furniture. For the boy he had +arranged everything. He was to be educated in some good, commercial +way, fitted to take care of himself in the future. Through his lawyer, +he set aside a certain sum for this purpose, to be expended annually +until the lad was old enough to earn his own living. In all ways +Rogers was thoughtful and decent, far-sighted and provident. No one +could accuse him of selfishness. He did not desert his woman, turn her +adrift unprovided for, as many another <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>would have done. No, thank +heavens, he thought to himself as he leaned over the rail of the ship, +fast making its way down the yellow tide, he had still preserved his +sense of honour. So many men go to pieces out in the East, but he, +somehow, had managed to keep himself clear and clean.</p> + +<p>Rogers drops out of the tale at this point, and as the ship slips out +of sight down the lower reaches of the Yangtzse, so does he disappear +from this story. It is to the boy that we must now turn our attention, +the half-caste boy who had received such a heritage of decency and +honour from one side of his house. In passing, let it be also said +that his mother, too, was a very decent little woman, in a humble, +Chinese way, and that his inheritance from this despised Chinese side +was not discreditable. His mother had gone obediently back to the +provinces, as had been arranged, the house passed into other hands, +and the half-caste boy was sent off to school somewhere, to finish his +education. Being young, he consoled himself after a time for the loss +of his home, its sudden and complete collapse. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>memory of that +home, however, left deep traces upon him.</p> + +<p>In the first place, he was inordinately proud of his white blood. He did +not know that it had cost his guardian considerable searching to find a +school where white blood was not objected to—when running in Chinese +veins. His schoolmates, of European blood, were less tolerant than the +school authorities. He therefore soon found his white blood to be a +curse. There is no need to go into this in detail. For every one who +knows the East, knows the contempt that is shown a half-breed, a +Eurasian. Neither fish, flesh nor fowl—an object of general distrust +and disgust. Oh, useful enough in business circles, since they can +usually speak both languages, which is, of course, an advantage. But +socially, impossible. In time, he passed into a banking house, where +certain of his qualities were appreciated, but outside of banking hours +he was confronted with a worse problem than that which had beset his +father. He felt himself too good for the Chinese. His mother's people +did not appeal to him, he did not like their manners and customs. Above +all things he wanted to be English, like his father, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>whom in his +imagination he had magnified into a sort of god. But his father's people +would have none of him. Even the clerks in the bank only spoke to him on +necessary business, during business hours, and cut him dead on the +street. As for the roysterers and beach-combers gathered in the bars of +the hotels, they made him feel, low as they were, that they were not yet +sunk low enough to enjoy such companionship as his. It was very +depressing and made him feel very sad. He did not at first feel any +resentment or bitterness towards his absent father, disappeared forever +from his horizon. But it gave him a profound sense of depression. True, +there were many other half-breeds for him to associate with—the China +Coast is full of such—but they, like himself, were ambitious for the +society of the white man. What he craved was the society of the white +man, to which, from one side of his house, he was so justly entitled. He +was not a very noticeable half-breed either, for his features were +regular, and he was not darker than is compatible with a good sunburn. +But just the same, it was unmistakable, this touch of the tar brush, to +the discriminating <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>European eye. He seemed inordinately slow witted—it +took him a long time to realise his situation. He argued it out with +himself constantly, and could arrive at no logical explanation. If his +mother, pure Chinese, was good enough for his father, why was not he, +only half-Chinese, good enough for his father's people? Especially in +view of the fact that his father's history was by no means uncommon. His +father and his kind had left behind them a trail of +half-breeds—thousands of them. If his mother had been good enough for +his father—— His thoughts went round and round in a puzzled, enquiring +circle, and still the problem remained unsolved. For he was very young, +and not as yet experienced.</p> + +<p>He was well educated. Why had his father seen to that? And he was well +provided for, and was now making money on his own account. He bought +very good clothes with his money, and went in the bar of one of the +big hotels, beautifully dressed, and took a drink at the bar and +looked round to see who would drink with him. He could never catch a +responsive eye, so was forced to drink alone. He hated drinking, +anyway. In many ways he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>was like his father. The petty clerks who +were at the office failed to see him at the race course. He hated the +races, anyway. In many respects he was like his father. But he was far +more lonely than his father had ever been. Thus he went about very +lonely, too proud to associate with the straight Chinese, his mother's +people, and humbled and snubbed by the people of his father's race.</p> + +<p>He was twenty years old when the Great War upset Europe. Shanghai was +a mass of excitement. The newspapers were ablaze. Men were needed for +the army. One of the clerks in the office resigned his post and went +home to enlist. In the first rush of enthusiasm, many other young +Englishmen in many other offices resigned their positions and +enlisted, although not a large number of them did so. For it was +inconceivable that the war could last more than a few weeks—when the +first P. and O. boat reached London, it would doubtless all be over. +During the excitement of those early days, some of the office force so +far forgot themselves as to speak to him on the subject. They asked +his opinion, what he thought of it. They did not ask the shroff, the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>Chinese accountant, what he thought of it. But they asked him. His +heart warmed! They were speaking to him at last as an equal, as one +who could understand, who knew things English, by reason of his +English blood.</p> + +<p>So the Autumn came, and still the papers continued full of appeals for +men. No more of the office force enlisted, and their manner towards +him, of cold indifference, was resumed again after the one outburst of +friendliness occasioned by the first excitement. Still the papers +contained their appeals for men. But the men in the other offices +round town did not seem to enlist either. He marvelled a little. +Doubtless, however, England was so great and so invincible that she +did not need them. But why then these appeals? Soon he learned that +these young men could not be spared from their offices in the Far +East. They were indispensable to the trade of the mighty Empire. +Still, he remained puzzled. One day, in a fit of boldness, he ventured +to ask the young man at the next stool why he did not go. According to +the papers, England was clamouring loudly for her sons.</p> + +<p>"Enlist!" exclaimed the young Englishman <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>angrily, colouring red. "Why +don't you enlist yourself? You say you're an Englishman, I believe!"</p> + +<p>The half-breed did not see the sneer. A great flood of light filled +his soul. He was English! One half of him was English! England was +calling for her own—and he was one of her own! He would answer the +call. A high, hot wave of exultation passed over him. His spirit was +uplifted, exalted. The glorious opportunity had come to prove +himself—to answer the call of the blood! Why had he never thought of +it before!</p> + +<p>For days afterwards he went about in a dream of excitement, his soul +dwelling on lofty heights. He asked to be released from his position, +and his request was granted. The manager shook hands with him and +wished him luck. His brother clerks nodded to him, on the day of his +departure, and wished him a good voyage. They did not shake hands with +him, and were not enthusiastic, as he hoped they would be. His spirits +were a little dashed by their indifference. However, they had always +slighted him, so it was nothing unusual. It would be different after +he had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>proved himself—it would be all right after he had proved +himself, had proved to himself and to them, that English blood ran in +his veins, and that he was answering the call of the blood.</p> + +<p>His adventures in the war do not concern us. They concern us no more +than the gap in the office, caused by his departure, concerned his +employer or his brother clerks. Within a few weeks, his place was +taken by another young Englishman, just out, and the office routine +went on as usual, and no one gave a thought to the young recruit who +had gone to the war. Just one comment was made. "Rather cheeky of him, +you know, fancying himself an Englishman." Then the matter dropped. +Gambling and polo and golf and cocktails claimed the attention of +those who remained, and life in Shanghai continued normal as usual.</p> + +<p>In due course of time, his proving completed, he returned to his +native land. As the ship dropped anchor in the lower harbour, his +heart beat fast with a curious emotion. An unexpected emotion, Chinese +in its reactions. The sight of the yellow, muddy Yangtzse moved him +strangely. It was his river. It belonged, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>somehow, to him. He stood, +a lonely figure, on the deck, clad in ill-fitting, civilian clothes, +not nearly so jaunty as those he used to wear before he went away. His +clothes fell away from him strangely, for illness had wasted him, and +his collar stood out stiffly from his scrawny neck. One leg was gone, +shot away above the knee, and he hobbled painfully down the gangplank +and on to the tender, using his crutches very awkwardly.</p> + +<p>The great, brown, muddy Yangtzse! His own river! The ships of the +world lay anchored in the harbour, the ships of all the world! The +tender made its way upward against the rushing tide, and great, clumsy +junks floated downstream. As they neared the dock, crowds of bobbing +sampans, with square, painted eyes—so that they might see where they +were going—came out and surrounded them. A miserable emotion overcame +him. They were his junks—he understood them. They were his sampans, +with their square, painted eyes—eyes that the foreigners pointed to +and laughed at! He understood them all—they were all his!</p> + +<p>Presently he found himself upon the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>crowded Bund, surrounded by a +crowd of men and women, laughing, joyous foreigners, who had come to +meet their own from overseas. No one was there to meet him, but it was +not surprising. He had sent word to no one, because he had no one to +send word to. He was undecided where to go, and he hobbled along a +little, to get out of the crowd, and to plan a little what he should +do. As he stood there undecided, waiting a little, hanging upon his +crutches, two young men came along, sleek, well-fed, laughing. He +recognised them at once—two of his old colleagues in the office. They +glanced in his direction, looked down on his pinned-up trouser leg, +caught his eye, and then, without sign of recognition, passed on.</p> + +<p>He was still a half-breed.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span><br /> +<a name="ON_THE_HEIGHTS" id="ON_THE_HEIGHTS"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h1>ON THE HEIGHTS</h1> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span><br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span><br /> + +<h2>II</h2> + +<h3>ON THE HEIGHTS<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> +<br /> + +<p>Rivers made his way to China many years ago. He was an adventurer, a +ne'er-do-weel, and China in those days was just about good enough for +him. Since he was English, it might have seemed more natural for him +to have gone to India, or the Straits Settlements, or one of the other +colonies of the mighty Empire, but for some reason, China drew him. He +was more likely to meet his own sort in China, where no questions +would be asked. And he did meet his own sort—people just like +himself, other adventurers and ne'er-do-weels, and their companionship +was no great benefit to him. So he drifted about all over China, +around the coast towns and back into the interior, to and fro, +searching for opportunities to make his fortune. But being the kind of +man he was, fortune seemed always to elude him. In course of time he +became rather well <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>known on the China Coast—known as a beach-comber. +And even when he went into the remote, interior province of Szechuan, +where he lived a precarious, hand-to-mouth existence for several +years, he was also known as a beach-comber. Which shows that being two +thousand miles inland does not alter the characteristics associated +with that name.</p> + +<p>Personally, he was not a bad sort. Men liked him, that is, men of his +own type. Some of them succeeded better than he did, and afterwards +referred to him as "poor old Rivers," although he was not really old +at that time. Neither was he really old either, when he died, several +years later. He was rather interesting too, in a way, since he had +experienced many adventures in the course of his wanderings in remote +parts of the country, which adventures were rather tellable. He even +knew a lot about China, too, which is more than most people do who +have lived in China many years. Had he been of that sort, he might +have written rather valuable books, containing his shrewd observations +and intimate, underhand knowledge of political and economic +conditions. But he was emphatically <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>not of that sort, so continued to +lead his disreputable, roving life for a period of ten years. At the +end of which time he met a plaintive little Englishwoman, just out +from Home, and she, knowing nothing whatever of Rivers, but being +taken with his glib tongue and rather handsome person, married him.</p> + +<p>As the wife of a confirmed beach-comber she had rather a hard time of +it. But for all that she was so plaintive and so supine, there was a +certain quality of force within her, and she insisted upon some +provision for the future. They were living in the interior at that +time, not too far in, and Rivers had come down to Shanghai to +negotiate some transactions for a certain firm. He could do things +like that well enough when he wanted to, as he had a certain ability, +and a knowledge of two or three Chinese dialects, and these things he +could put to account when he felt like it. Aided by his wife, +stimulated by her quiet, subtle insistence, he put through the +business entrusted to him, and the business promised success. Which +meant that the interior town in which they found themselves would soon +be opened to foreign trade. And as a new trade centre, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>however small, +Europeans would come to the town from time to time and require a +night's lodging. Here was where Mrs. Rivers saw her chance and took +it. In her simple, wholly supine way, she realised that there were +nothing but Chinese inns in the place, and therefore it would be a +good opportunity to open a hotel for foreigners. Numbers of foreigners +would soon be arriving, thanks to Rivers' efforts, and as he was now +out of employment (having gone on a prolonged spree to celebrate his +success and been discharged in consequence), there still remained an +opportunity for helping foreigners in another way. Personally, he +would have preferred to open a gambling house, but the risks were too +great. At that time the town was not yet fully civilized or +Europeanised, and he realised that he would encounter considerable +opposition to this scheme from the Chinese—and he was without +sufficient influence or protection to oppose them. His wife, +therefore, insisted upon the hotel, and he saw her point. She did not +make it in behalf of her own welfare, or the welfare of possible +future children. She merely made it as an opportunity that a man of +his parts ought not to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>miss. He had made a few hundred dollars out of +his deal, and fortunately, had not spent all of it on his grand +carouse. There was enough left for the new enterprise.</p> + +<p>So they took a temple. Buddhism being in a decadent state in China, +and the temples being in a still further state of decay, it was an +easy matter to arrange things with the priests. The temple selected +was a large, rambling affair, with many compounds and many rooms, +situated in the heart of the city, and near the newly opened offices +of the newly established firm, the nucleus of this coming trade centre +of China. A hundred dollars Mex. rented it for a year, and Mrs. Rivers +spent many days sweeping and cleaning it, while Rivers himself helped +occasionally, and hired several coolies to assist in the work as well. +The monks' houses were washed and whitewashed; clean, new mats spread +on the floors, cheap European cots installed, with wash basins, jugs +and chairs, and other accessories such as are not found in native +inns. The main part of the temple still remained open for worship, +with the dusty gods on the altars and the dingy hangings in place as +usual. The faithful, such <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>as there were, still had access to it, and +the priests lived in one of the compounds, but all the other compounds +were given over to Rivers for his new enterprise. Thus the prejudices +of the townspeople were not excited, the old priests cleared a hundred +dollars Mex., while the new tenants were at liberty to pursue their +venture to its most profitable limits. Mrs. Rivers managed the +housekeeping, assisted by a capable Chinese cook, and Rivers had a +sign painted, in English, bearing the words "Temple Hotel." +Fortunately it was summertime, so there were no expenses for +artificial heat, an item which would have taxed their small capital +beyond its limits.</p> + +<p>Two weeks after the Temple Hotel swung out its sign, the first guest +arrived, the manager of the new company. He came to town reluctantly, +dreading the discomforts of a Chinese inn, and bringing with him his +food and bedding roll, intending to sleep in his cart in the +courtyard. Consequently he was greatly pleased and greatly surprised +to find a European hotel, and he stayed there ten days in perfect +comfort. Mrs. Rivers treated him royally—lost money on him, in fact, +but it was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>a good investment. At parting, the manager told Rivers +that his wife was a marvel, as indeed she was. Then he went down to +Shanghai and spread the news among his friends, and from that time on, +the success of the Temple Hotel was assured. True, Rivers still +continued to be a good fellow, that is, he continued to drink pretty +hard, but his guests overlooked it and his wife was used to it, and +the establishment continued to flourish. In a year or two the railroad +came along, and a period of great prosperity set in all round.</p> + +<p>Like most foreigners, Rivers had a profound contempt for the Chinese. +They were inferior beings, made for servants and underlings, and to +serve the dominant race. He was at no pains to conceal this dislike, +and backed it up by blows and curses as occasion required. In this he +was not alone, however, nor in any way peculiar. Others of his race +feel the same contempt for the Chinese and manifest it by similar +demonstrations. Lying drunk under a walnut tree of the main courtyard, +Rivers had only to raise his eyes to his blue-coated, pig-tailed +coolies, to be immensely aware of his superiority. Kwong, his +number-one boy, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>used to survey him thus stretched upon the ground, +while Rivers, helpless, would explain to Kwong what deep and profound +contempt he felt for all those who had not his advantages—the great, +God-given advantage of a white skin. The lower down one is on the +social and moral plane, the more necessary to emphasize the +distinction between the races. Kwong used to listen, imperturbable, +thinking his own thoughts. When his master beat him, he submitted. His +impassive face expressed no emotion, neither assent nor dissent.</p> + +<p>Except for incidents like these, of some frequency, things went on +very well with Rivers for three or four years, and then something +happened. He had barely time to bundle his wife and children aboard an +English ship lying in harbour and send them down river to Shanghai, +before the revolution broke out. He himself stayed behind to see it +through, living in the comparative security of his Consulate, for the +outbreak was not directed against foreigners and he was safe enough +outside the city, in the newly acquired concession. On this particular +day, when things had reached their climax and the rebels were sacking +and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>burning the town, Rivers leaned over the ramparts of the city +wall and watched them. The whole Tartar City was in flames, including +the Temple Hotel. He watched it burn with satisfaction. When things +quieted down, he would put in his claim for an indemnity. The Chinese +government, whichever or whatever it happened to be, should be made to +pay handsomely for his loss. Really, at this stage of his fortunes +nothing could have been more opportune. The Temple Hotel had reached +the limit of its capacity, and he had been obliged to turn away +guests. Moreover the priests, shrewd old sinners, had begun to clamour +for increased rental. They had detected signs of prosperity—as +indeed, who could not detect it—and for some time past they had been +urging that a hundred dollars Mex. a year was inadequate compensation. +Well, this revolution, whatever it was all about, would put a stop to +all that. Rivers would claim, and would undoubtedly receive, an ample +indemnity, with which money he would build himself a fine modern +hostelry, such as befitted this flourishing new trade centre, and as +befitted himself, shrewd and clever man of affairs. Altogether, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>this +revolution was a most timely and fortunate occurrence. He surveyed the +scene beneath him, but a good way off, be it said. Shrieks and yells, +firing and destruction, and the whole Tartar City in names and fast +crumbling into ashes.</p> + +<p>The revolution settled itself in due time. The rebels either got what +they wanted, or didn't get what they wanted, or changed their minds +about wanting it after all, as sometimes happens with Chinese +uprisings. Whichever way it was, law and order were finally restored +and life resumed itself again on normal lines, although the Tartar +City, lying within the Chinese City, was a total wreck. What happened +in consequence to the despoiled and dispersed Manchu element is no +concern of ours.</p> + +<p>Rivers put in his claim for an indemnity and got it. It was awarded +promptly, that is, with the delay of only a few months, and he at once +set out to build himself a fine hotel, in accordance with his highest +ambitions. The construction was entrusted to a native contractor, and +while the work progressed apace, he and his wife went down river to +Shanghai, and the children were sent north somewhere <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>to a mission +school. During this enforced residence in Shanghai, in which city he +had been known some years ago as a pronounced beach-comber and +ne'er-do-weel, he was obliged to live practically without funds. +However, he was able to borrow on the strength of his indemnity, but +to do him justice, he limited his borrowings to the lowest terms, not +wishing to encroach upon his capital. In all this economy of living, +his wife assisted him greatly, for although supine and flexible there +was that quality of force about her which we have mentioned before.</p> + +<p>As befitted a person who had lost his all in a Chinese uprising and +had been rewarded with a large sum of money in return, Rivers was +particularly bitter against the Chinese. His old contempt and hatred +flared up to large proportions, and he expressed his feelings openly +and freely, especially at those times when alcohol clouded his +judgment. Moreover, he was living in Shanghai now, where it was easy +to express his feelings in the classic way approved by foreigners, and +sanctioned by the customs and usages of the International Settlement. +He delighted to walk along the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>Bund, among crowds of burdened coolies +bending and panting under great sacks of rice, and to see them shrink +and swerve as he approached, fearing a blow of his stick. When he rode +in rickshaws, he habitually cheated the coolie of his proper fare, +secure in the knowledge that the Chinese had no redress, could appeal +to no one, and must accept a few coppers or none at all, at his +pleasure. If the coolie objected, Rivers still had the rights of it. A +crowd might collect, vociferating in their vile jargon, but it +mattered nothing. A word from Rivers to a passing European, to a +policeman, to any one whose word carries in the Settlement, was +sufficient. He had but to explain that one of these impertinent yellow +pigs had tried to extort three times the legal fare, and his case was +won. No coolie could successfully contradict the word of a foreigner, +no police court, should matters go as far as that, would take a +Chinaman's word against that of a white man. He was quite secure in +his bullying, in his dishonesty, in his brutality, and there is no +place on earth where the white man is more secure in his +whitemanishness than in this Settlement, administered by the ruling +races <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>of the world. Rivers thoroughly enjoyed these street fracases, +in which he was the natural and logical victor. He enjoyed telling +about them afterward, for they served to illustrate his conception of +the Chinese character and of the Chinese race in general. It was but +natural for him to feel this way, seeing what losses he had suffered +through the revolution. As he told of his losses, it was not apparent +to an outsider that the hotel had not been utterly and entirely his +property, instead of an old Buddhist temple rented from the priests +for one hundred dollars Mex. a year.</p> + +<p>Besides Rivers, others in the town in the interior had suffered +hardships. Among them was his number-one boy, Kwong, who had served +him faithfully for several years. Kwong had been rather hard hit by +the uprising. His wretched little hovel had been burned to the ground, +his wife had fallen victim to a bullet, while his two younger children +disappeared during the excitement and were never heard of again. +Killed, presumably. After the victorious rebels had had their way, all +that remained to Kwong was his son Liu, aged eighteen, and these two +decided to come down to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>Shanghai and earn their living amidst more +civilized surroundings. One of the strongest arguments in favour of +the International Settlement is that it affords safety and protection +to the Chinese. They flock to it in great numbers, preferring the just +and beneficent administration of the white man to the uncertainties of +native rule. So Kwong and his son made their way down the Yangtzse, +floating down river on a stately junk with ragged matting sails. It +was the tide, and a bamboo pole for pushing, rather than any +assistance derived from the ragged sails, which eventually landed them +in the safe harbour of Whangpoo Creek, and stranded them on the mud +flats below Garden Bridge.</p> + +<p>Being illiterate people, father and son, unskilled labour was all that +presented itself, so they became rickshaw coolies, as so many country +people do. During a year, some two hundred thousand men, young and old +and mostly from up-country, take up the work of rickshaw runners. It +is not profitable employment, and the work is hard, and many of them +drop out—the come-and-go of rickshaw runners is enormous, a great, +unstable, floating <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>population. Kwong and Liu hired a rickshaw between +them, for a dollar and ten cents a day, and their united exertions +barely covered the day's hire. Sometimes they had a few coppers over +and above the daily expenses, sometimes they fell below that sum and +had to make up the deficit on the morrow. On the occasions when they +were in debt to the proprietor, they were forced to forego the small +outlay required for food, and neither could afford a meagre bowl of +millet. Pulling a rickshaw on an empty stomach is not conducive to +health. Kwong, being an older man, found the strain very difficult, +and Liu, being but a fledgling and weak and undeveloped at that, also +found it difficult. They were always tired, nearly always hungry, and +part of the time ill. And what neither could understand was the +passengers' objection to paying the legal fare. Now and then, of +course, they had a windfall in the shape of a tourist or a drunken +sailor from a cruiser, but these exceptions were few and far between. +Necessarily so, considering the number of rickshaws, and that the tram +cars were strong competitors as well.</p> + +<p>They were also surprised at the attitude of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>the Europeans. The first +time that Liu was struck over the head by a beautiful Malacca cane, he +was aghast with astonishment—and pain. Fortunately he knew enough not +to hit hack. Not understanding English, he did not know that he was +being directed to turn up the Peking Road, and accordingly had run +swiftly past the Peking Road until brought to his senses, so to speak, +by a silver knob above the ear, which made him dizzy with pain. As +time passed, however, he grew accustomed to this attitude of the +ruling race, and accepted the blows without remonstrance, knowing that +remonstrance was vain. His fellow coolies soon taught him that. He and +his kind were but dogs in the sight of the foreigners, and must accept +a dog's treatment in consequence. Once a lady leaned far forward in +the rickshaw and gave him a vicious kick. Up till then, he had not +realised that the women of the white race also had this same feeling +towards him. But what can one expect? If a man lowers himself to the +plane of an animal and gets between shafts, he must expect an animal's +treatment. In certain communities, however, there are societies to +protect animals.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>Matters went along like this for some months, and Kwong and Liu barely +kept themselves going. However, they managed to keep out of debt for +the rickshaw hire, which was in itself an achievement. Rivers also +continued to live in Shanghai at this time, making up-river trips now +and then to inspect the progress of his new hotel, which was +favourable. As he landed at the Bund one day, returning from one of +these excursions, he chanced to step into the rickshaw pulled by his +old servitor, Kwong. Kwong made him a respectful salute, but Rivers, +preoccupied, failed to recognise his former servant in the old and +filthy coolie who stood between the shafts of an old and shabby +rickshaw. He always made it a point to select old rickshaws, pulled by +broken down men. They looked habitually underpaid, and were probably +used to it, and were therefore less likely to raise objections at the +end of the trip than one of the swift young runners who stood about +the European hotels. Remember, in extenuation, that Rivers was living +on credit at this time, on borrowed money, and he did not like to be +more extravagant than he had to.</p> + +<p>The day was a piping hot one, and the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>distance Rivers travelled was +something under three miles, out on the edge of French Town. When he +alighted, he found but three copper cents in his pocket, all that was +left him after a considerable carouse on the river boat coming down. +He tendered this sum to the panting and sweating Kwong, who stood +exhausted but respectful, hoping in a friendly way that his old master +would recognise him. To do Rivers justice, he did not recognise his +former servant, nor did he have more than three copper cents in his +possession, although that fact was known to him when he stepped into +the rickshaw and directed the coolie to French Town, extreme limits. +Kwong indignantly rejected the copper cents, and Rivers flung them +into the dust and turned away. Kwong ran after him, expostulating, +catching him by the coat sleeve. Rivers turned savagely. The wide road +was deserted, and in a flash he brought his heavy blackwood stick +across Kwong's face with a terrific blow. The coolie fell sprawling in +the dust at his old master's feet, and Rivers, furious, kicked him +savagely in the stomach, again and again, until the man lay still and +ceased writhing. Blood gushed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>from his mouth, making a puddle in the +dust, a puddle which turned black and thick about the edges.</p> + +<p>In an instant Rivers was sobered. He glanced swiftly up and down the +road, and to his dismay, saw a crowd of blue coated figures running in +his direction. He had barely time to stoop down and pick up the +tell-tale coppers before he was surrounded by a noisy and excited +group of Chinese, gesticulating furiously and rending the hot, blue +air with their outlandish cries. A policeman came in sight, and a +passing motor filled with foreigners stopped to see the trouble. He +had overdone things, surely. There was nothing for it but the police +station.</p> + +<p>Now such accidents are not infrequent in Shanghai, the white man's +city built in China, administered by the white men to their own +advantage, and to the advantage of the Chinese who seek protection +under the white man's just and beneficent rule. However, human life is +very cheap in China, cheaper than most places in the Orient, although +that is not saying much. It would, therefore, have been very easy for +Rivers to have extricated himself from <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>this scrape had he possessed +any money. Two hundred and fifty dollars, Mex. is the usual price for +a coolie's life when an affair of this kind happens. There is a well +established precedent to this effect. Unfortunately for Rivers, he did +not possess two hundred and fifty dollars, for as has been said, he +was at this time living on borrowed money. Nothing for it then but a +trial, and certain unpleasant publicity. Happily, there were no +witnesses to the occurrence, and Rivers' plea of self-defence would +naturally he accepted. It was an unpleasant business, however, but +there was no other way out of it, seeing that he was bankrupt.</p> + +<p>The trial took place with due dignity. Evidence, produced after an +autopsy, proved that at the time of the accident Kwong was in a very +poor state of health. Every one knows that the work of a rickshaw +coolie is hard, the physical strain exceedingly severe. Four years, at +the outside, is the average life of a rickshaw runner, after which he +must change his occupation to something more suited to a physical +wreck. Much testimony was produced to show that Kwong had long ago +reached that point. He <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>was courting death, defying death, every day. +It was his own fault. He had great varicose veins in his legs, which +were large and swollen. His heart, constantly overtaxed by running +with heavy weights, was enlarged and ready to burst any moment. His +spleen also was greatly dilated and ready to burst—in fact, it was +not at all clear whether after such a long run—three miles in such +heat—he would not have dropped dead anyway. Such cases were of daily +occurrence, too numerous to mention. The slight blow he had +received—a mere push as defendant had stated under oath—was probably +nothing more than a mere unfortunate coincidence.</p> + +<p>Such being the evidence, and the courts being administered by +Europeans, and there being no doubt whatever of the quality of justice +administered by Europeans in their own behalf, it is not surprising +that Rivers was acquitted. The verdict returned was, Accidental death +due to rupture of the spleen, caused by over-exertion. Rivers was a +good deal shaken, however, when he stepped out of the courtroom, into +the hot, bright sunshine, and received the congratulations of his +friends. He <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>had heard so many disgusting medical details of the havoc +caused by rickshaw pulling, that he resolved to be very careful in +future about hitting these impudent, good-for-nothing swine.</p> + +<p>Amongst the crowd in the courtroom, but practically unnoticed, sat +Liu, son of the late Kwong. The proceedings being in English, he was +unable to follow them, but he knew enough to realise that the slayer +of his father was being tried. Presumably his life was at stake, as +was befitting under the circumstances. Therefore his surprise was +great when the outcome of the case was explained to him by a Chinese +friend who understood English, and his astonishment, if such it may be +called, was still more intense upon seeing Rivers walk out of the +courtroom receiving congratulatory handshakes as he passed. To the +ignorant mind of the young Chinese, Rivers was being felicitated for +having committed murder. He was unable to draw any fine distinctions, +or to understand that these congratulations were not intended for +Rivers personally, but because his acquittal strengthened established +precedents. Precedents that rendered unassailable <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>the status of the +ruling race. Liu was therefore filled with an overmastering and bitter +hatred of Rivers, and had he realised what the acquittal stood for, +would probably have been filled with an equally intense hatred for the +dominant race in general. Not understanding that, however, he +concentrated his feelings upon Rivers, and resolved to bring him to +account in accord with simpler, less civilized standards.</p> + +<p>Within two months, the Temple Hotel was finished and ready for use. +Much foreign furniture had been sent up from Shanghai, and Rivers and +his wife also removed themselves to the up-river town and set about +their business. Rivers was glad to leave Shanghai; he had had enough +of it, since his unlucky episode, and was glad to bury himself in the +comparative obscurity of the interior. Life resumed itself smoothly +once again, and he prospered exceedingly.</p> + +<p>His attitude towards the natives, however, was more domineering than +ever, now that he had recovered from the unpleasant two weeks that +preceded his trial. These two weeks had been more uncomfortable than +he liked to think about, but safely away from the scene of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>the +disturbance, he became more abusive, more brutal than ever in his +attitude towards the Chinese. His servants horribly feared him, yet +did his bidding with alacrity. The reputation of a man who could kill +when he chose, with impunity, stood him in good stead. Liu, the son of +Kwong, followed him up-river and obtained a place in his household as +pidgeon-cook, assistant to number-one cook. Rivers failed to recognize +his new servant, and at such times as he encountered him, was +delighted with the servile attitude of the youth, and called him "Son +of a Turtle" which is the worst insult in the Chinese language.</p> + +<p>Liu bided his time, for time is of no moment in the Orient. His hatred +grew from day to day, but he continued to wait. He wished to see +Rivers thoroughly successful, at the height of his career, before +calling him to account. Since he would have to pay for his revenge +with his life—not being a European—he determined that a white man at +the top of his pride would be a more fitting victim than one who had +not yet climbed the ladder. Such was his simple reasoning. Under his +long blue coat there hung <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>a long, thin knife, whetted to razor +sharpness on both edges.</p> + +<p>Summer came again, and the blazing heat of mid-China, lay over the +land. Mrs. Rivers went north to join her children, and the number of +guests in the hotel diminished to two or three. Business and tourists +came to a standstill during these scorching weeks, and Rivers finally +went down to Shanghai for a few days' jollification. He left his +affairs in the hands of the shroff, the Chinese accountant, who could +be trusted to manage them for a short time.</p> + +<p>He returned unexpectedly one night about eleven o'clock, quite drunk. +The few guests had retired and the hotel was closed. At the gate, the +watchman lay asleep beside his lantern, and when Rivers let himself in +with his key, he found Liu in the lounge, also asleep. He cursed Liu, +but submitted to the steady, supporting arm which the boy place around +his waist, and was led to bed without difficulty. Liu assisted his +master to undress, folding up the crumpled, white linen clothes with +silver buttons, and laying them neatly across a chair. He was an +excellent servant. Then he retired <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>from the room, listening outside +the door till he heard sounds of heavy, stertorous breathing. At that +moment, the contempt of the Chinese for the dominant race was even +greater than Rivers' contempt for the inferior one.</p> + +<p>When the proprietor's breathing had assumed reassuring proportions, +Liu opened the door cautiously, and stepped lightly into the room. He +then locked it with equal caution, slipped quietly across to the +verandah, and passed out through the long, wide-open windows. The +verandah was a dozen feet from the ground, and the dark passage below, +leading to the gate, was deserted. At the other end sat the watchman +with his lantern, presumably asleep. Liu had not heard his drum tap +for an hour. A shaft of moonlight penetrated the room, and a light +wind blowing in from outside gently stirred the mosquito curtains over +the bed. Liu tiptoed to the bed, and with infinite care drew the +netting aside and stood surveying his victim. Rivers lay quite still +with arms outstretched, fat and bloated, breathing with hoarse, +blowing sounds, quite repulsive. The moonlight was sufficient to +enable Liu to see the dark outline upon the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>bed, and to gauge where +he would strike. He hovered over his victim, exultant, prolonging from +minute to minute this strange, new feeling of power and dominance. +That was what it meant to be a white man—to feel this feeling +always—always—all one's life, not merely for a few brief, +exhilarating moments! And with that feeling of power and dominance was +the ability to inflict pain, horrible, frightful pain. That also was +part of the white man's heritage, this ability to inflict pain and +suffering at will. And after that, death. Liu also had the power to +inflict death. Leaning over the bed, with the long, keen knife in his +steady clutch, he was for those glorious moments the equal of the +white man! He prolonged his sensations breathlessly—this sense of +superb power, this superb ability to inflict humiliation, pain and +death.</p> + +<p>A mosquito lit on Rivers' blotched cheek, and he raised a heavy arm to +brush it away. Then he relaxed again with a snore. Liu paused, +waiting. The glorious exaltation was mounting higher. It occurred to +him to sharpen these sensations, to heighten them. After all, he was +about to kill a drunken man in a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>drunken sleep. He wanted something +better. He wanted to feel his power over a conscious man, a man +conscious and aware of what was to befall him. Even as his father had +been conscious and aware of what was befalling him, even as thousands +of his countrymen were awake and aware, knowing what was being done to +them—by the dominant race. He wished Rivers awake and aware. It +involved greater risk, but it was worth it. Therefore, with the point +of his sharp, keen knife, he gently prodded the throat of the sleeper, +lying supine before him under the moon rays. Gently, very gently, he +prodded the exposed throat, placed the point of his knife very gently +upon his heaving, corded larynx, which pulsed inward and outward under +the heaving, stertorous breaths. Gently he stimulated the corded, +puffing throat, gently, with the point of his sharp knife.</p> + +<p>The result was as he wished. First Rivers stirred, moved a restless +arm, flopped an impotent, heavy arm that fell back upon the pillow, an +arm that failed to reach its objective, to quell the tickling, cold +point prodded into his throat. Then as he slowly grew conscious, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>the +movements of the arm became more coordinated. Into his drunken mind +came the fixed sensation of a disturbance at his throat. He became +conscious, opened a heavy eye, and fixed it upon Liu, without at the +same time feeling the pressing point at his throat. Liu saw his +returning consciousness, and leaning over him, pressed upon his +throat, ever so lightly, the point of his long knife. Thus for a +moment or two they regarded each other, Liu having the advantage. But +so it had always been. Having the advantage was one of the attributes +of the dominant race. Thus for those few brief seconds, Liu +experienced the whole glory of it. And as little by little Rivers +emerged from the drunken to the conscious, to the abjectly, cravenly +conscious, so Liu mounted to the heights.</p> + +<p>Then he saw that Rivers was about to cry out. To let forth a roaring +bellow, a howling bellow. Enough. He had tasted the whole of it. He +had felt, for prolonged and glorious moments, the feelings of the +superior race. Therefore he drove home, silently, his sharp, keen +knife, and stifled the mad bellow that was about to be let forth. +After which, he crept <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>very cautiously to the balcony, and peered +anxiously up and down the dark alleyway beneath. He lowered himself +with infinite caution over the railing. He had become once more the +cringing Oriental.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="HOMESICK" id="HOMESICK"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h1>HOMESICK</h1> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span><br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>III</h2> + +<h3>HOMESICK<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> +<br /> + +<p>A Chinese gentleman, with his arms tucked up inside the brocaded +sleeves of his satin coat, stood one day with one foot in China and +the other upon European soil. From time to time he bore with alternate +weight upon the right foot, on Chinese soil, and then upon the left +foot, upon European soil, and his mental attitude shifted from right +to left accordingly. The foot upon Chinese soil reflected upward to +his brain the restriction of Chinese laws, the breaking of which were +accompanied by heavy penalties. The foot upon European soil reassured +him as to his ability to indulge himself, with no penalties +whatsoever. Therefore, after balancing himself for a few moments first +upon this foot, then upon that, he gave way to his inclinations and +resolved to indulge them. In certain matters, Europeans were more +liberal than Chinese.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>From this you will see that he had been standing with one foot in +China, where opium traffic was prohibited, where heavy fines were +attached to opium smoking and to opium buying, where heavy jail +sentences were imposed upon those who smoked or bought opium, while +the other foot, planted upon the ground of the Foreign Concession, +assured him of his absolute freedom to buy opium in any quantity he +chose, and to smoke himself to a standstill in an opium den licensed +under European auspices. In his saner moments, when not under the +influence of the drug, he resented the European occupation of certain +parts of Chinese territory, but when his craving for opium +occurred—which it did with great frequency—he was delighted to +realise that there were certain parts of China not under the authority +of the drastic laws of China, which laws prohibited with such drastic +and heavy penalties the indulgences he craved. Therefore he swayed +himself backwards and forwards for a space, first upon this foot, then +upon that, and finally withdrew both feet into the Foreign Concession, +and directed his steps to a shop where opium was sold under European +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>influence. The shop was capacious but dark. He stated his requirements +and they were measured out to him—a large keg was withdrawn from its +place on a shelf, and a gentle Chinese, clad, like himself, in satin +brocade, dug into the contents of the keg with a ladle and withdrew +from it a black, molasses-like substance, which ran slowly and gummily +from the ladle into the small silver box which the customer had +produced. The box finally filled, with some of the gummy, black +contents running over the edges, our gentleman withdrew himself, +having accomplished his purpose. Tucked into the security of his belt, +it was impossible to detect the contraband as he again stepped over +the boundary line which separated Chinese from European soil.</p> + +<p>Half an hour after our Chinese gentleman had stepped across the +boundary line into the native city, with a large supply of opium +concealed in his belt, part of which he would retail to certain +friends who had not time enough to run across into the European +concession to buy it for themselves, a young Englishman stood, by +curious coincidence, upon the same spot recently occupied by the +Chinese. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>He also stood with one foot upon Chinese soil, with the +other upon the soil of the Foreign Concession, and regretted, with +considerable vehemence, that at this dividing line his efforts must +cease. He had been pursuing, for perhaps a mile, the proprietor of a +certain gambling den, whom he wished to apprehend. But at the boundary +line, which the Chinese had reached before him, his prey had escaped. +He was off somewhere, safe in the devious lanes and burrows of the +native city. Therefore he stood baffled, and finally made his way back +into the Settlement, along the quais, and finally reached his rooms. +He pondered somewhat over the situation. That which was permitted on +Chinese territory, was prohibited in the foreign holdings—and the +reverse. It just depended whether you were on this side the line or +that, as to whether or not you were a lawbreaker. Morality appeared +arbitrary, determined by geographical lines—a matter of dollars and +cents. Lawson walked slowly along the Bund, turning the matter over in +his rather limited mind. Take the opium business, he considered. The +Chinese considered it harmful, and wished to abolish it. Very good. +Yet <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>the Foreign Concessions made money out of it and insisted upon +selling it.</p> + +<p>Take another example, he reflected—gambling, his job. Or rather, his +job was the suppression of gambling—in the foreign holdings. The +Chinese considered it harmless, a matter of individual inclination. +Very good. But the foreigners considered it a vice, and he, Lawson, +was appointed to run to earth Chinese fan-tan houses, in the +Concession, and suppress them. Yet his own people, the foreigners, +gambled freely and uproariously in their own establishments—at the +races, and at certain houses which they maintained for their pleasure. +True, these houses were not in the Concession—for some reason the +foreigners had set their face against gambling in the Concession—yet +they maintained their establishments, their showy and luxurious +establishments, outside the Concession and upon Chinese soil. They +must pay a handsome squeeze for the privilege. Yet it was difficult to +reconcile. What was right and wrong, anyway? What was moral or +immoral, anyway? Lawson, of very limited intelligence, walked along, +sorely puzzled. Sauce for the goose, sauce for the gander—well, two +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>very different kinds of sauces, composed of very different +ingredients, as far as he could see. Lawson, being a young man of +limited intelligence, was greatly puzzled. He had been greatly +bothered over this for a long time. It began to look to him—very +vaguely—as if morality was not an abstract but a concrete affair.</p> + +<p>Just then he passed an opium shop, and considered again. That surely +was a nasty game, yet his Government encouraged it—and made money +from it. But the Chinese, on their side of the boundary line, were +doing their best to suppress it. It was very difficult for them to +make headway, however, since opium shops flourished and were +encouraged by the foreign concessions, over which the Chinese had no +control. Topsy turvy, anyway. No wonder a person like Lawson was +unable to understand it. It all resolved itself into a question of +money, after all. For after all, money was the main object of life, +whether on the part of an individual or of a government. And since all +governments were composed of individuals, and reflected the ideas of +individuals, there you were!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>By this time, young Lawson had become quite bored with life in the Far +East. The romance was gone and it offered so little variety. One day +was so like another, and every day, winter and summer, it was the same +thing or the same sorts of things, and there was an intense sameness +about it all. By day he did his work—that goes without saying—one +has to work in the Far East, that is what one comes out to do. +Otherwise, why come? Unless one is a tourist or a missionary, or a +buyer of Chinese antiques, or has had an overwhelming desire to write +a book upon international politics, a desire springing from the depths +of gross ignorance. But after all, why not such a book? It reaches, if +it reaches at all, a public still less informed, and misinformation is +as valuable as no information at all, when we desire to interfere with +the destiny of the Chinese. In his leisure moments, Lawson had tried +his hand at such a book—until he suddenly realised that he had been +in the Orient too long to make it a success. He knew just a trifle too +much about affairs, and found himself setting forth facts which would +lead to his undoing, as a minor official in the International +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>Settlement—if he gave them publicity. He could not afford to lose his +position. And he was by no means sure that the deep, unerring sense of +justice, the innate instinct of the masses, would rally to his +support. He had his own opinion of the ruling classes, but he trusted +the masses still less.</p> + +<p>It was a biting cold night, with a high wind from the north howling +down the long streets and whipping the waters of the harbour into a +fury. Junks strained at their anchors, tossed and heaved, and now and +then one broke loose from its moorings and wandered about adrift, +spreading infinite terror amongst the owners of other junks, who +feared for their safety. A cruiser or two lay in the roads, and the +French mail, and two or three Japanese cargo-boats, and half a dozen +tramp ships from the China Coast, but none of these were unduly +buffeted by the gale, which only created havoc among the junks and +sampans. Lawson's lodgings overlooked the harbour, and he laid down +his pen and moved from the table to the dark window, trying in vain to +see what was going on without. Below, the long line of the quais was +outlined by long rows of electric lights, swaying <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>and tossing from +their poles, and illuminating the shining, wet asphalt of the Bund. He +was very, very tired of it all. So many years he had been out, and the +same monotonous round must be gone through with, over and over again, +day after day—until he made money enough to return home. And as a +salaried clerk, a court runner, whose duty it was to enforce the laws +against gambling in the Settlement, that day seemed very far distant +indeed. Whenever he heard of a fan-tan place—and he heard of them +every day—he must investigate, see that it was closed and the +keepers, if he was lucky enough to catch them, duly punished. And the +players as well. Now to eradicate gambling from amongst the Chinese is +a difficult task, futile and ridiculous, a good waste of time and +money. He wondered why his Government should attempt it. Foolish thing +for his Government to do—yet what would become of Lawson if the +undertaking were abolished? Taste tea, probably—apprentice himself to +some tea merchant, and learn all the nasty rôle of tea spitting. From +which you will see that Lawson was squeamish about some things, and +did not envy those of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>his friends who had become tea tasters, and who +moved all day up and down a long table, filled with rows of stupid +little cups, with an attendant China boy forever shoving a cuspidor +from one advanced position to another. And if not a tea taster, then +some commercial house would absorb his energies, which would be worse +still—close at his elbow a spectacled Chinese clicking all day upon a +dirty little abacus,—checking him up, keeping tabs on him.</p> + +<p>No, the work he had was better. But he was so tired of it. He leaned +himself against the dripping, cold pane, and regarded the lights +below, shining on the wet asphalt of the quais. He was thirty years +old and ten years in the East had about done for him. The East does, +for many people. Yes, he reflected bitterly, it had about done for +him. It undermines people, in some mysterious manner, and in Lawson's +case there had been so little to undermine. He had little imagination, +and could never imagine the larger possibilities of life, and what he +had missed, therefore the undermining of his character was of small +account. He was only conscious of an intense boredom, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>to-night +the boredom was accentuated, because of the weather. He was too inert +to splash about in such a driving rain in quest of a friend more weary +than himself.</p> + +<p>If he could just get out of it all! By which, understand, he had not +the adventurous spirit of the beach-comber, the adventurer who combs +pleasure and profits from the ports of the China Coast. He wasn't that +sort. He had no desire to take a sampan and row out to the nearest +cargo-boat and ship away to the Southern Seas, and sink himself in +romance north or south of the Line. No, the mystery of the East, the +romance of foreign lands made no appeal to him. And the everlasting +monotony of his daily work, of his daily association with his few +wearied friends, clerks and suchlike, all minor and unimportant cogs +of the big machine overseas, offered him nothing. Very decidedly he +was homesick. But his tired mind came upon a blank wall—he had no +home to be homesick for. Nothing compelling, nothing to return to—all +broken up long ago, such as it was, long before he had come out to the +Orient. Yet he was longing for the sight of his native land again. +Yes, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>that was it—just the familiar sight of it. It offered him +nothing in the way of tie or kin, yet he was longing to see it again, +just his own native land. He was exiled in China—and he was exiled at +Home, when you got down to it—but to-night his home land drew him +with overwhelming insistence.</p> + +<p>What can you do, I'd like to know, when you are like this? Along the +outskirts of the Settlement stood big houses, cheerful with lights, +with home life, with all that the successful ones had brought out from +Home, to establish Home in the Orient. But Lawson had nothing to do +with these, with all the pompous, successful ones, who ignored him +completely and were unaware of his existence. They were all superior +to him, with the superiority that new-found money brings, and they +looked down upon him as a cheap court runner, told off to round up the +fan-tan playing Chinese. You see, Lawson was common—he had sprung +from nothing and was nothing. But these others, these successful ones, +they too had sprung from nothing, but out here in the Orient they had +become important. Through the possession of certain qualities which +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>Lawson did not possess, they had become large and prominent in the +community. They referred to themselves, among each other, as "younger +sons." Which left one to infer that they were of distinguished +lineage. But Lawson knew better, and knew it with great bitterness. +Like himself, they were indeed "younger sons"—of greengrocers. +Therefore, for that reason perhaps, they went home seldom, for at home +they were nobodies. Whereas out here—oh, out here, by reason of +certain qualities which Lawson did not possess, they were important +and pompous, and lived in big houses, with lights and guests and +servants and motors. Therefore Lawson resented them, because they +thought he was common. And he was common, he admitted bitterly, but so +were they. Only they were successful, by reason of certain qualities +which he did not possess. They ignored him, and left him alone in the +community, and it is never very good to be too much alone, especially +in the Far East. True, they provided him with his job—with his +wretchedly paid little Government job, which they maintained for no +altruistic or moral reasons. To suppress gambling amongst the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>Chinese? Perhaps. Incidentally, on the surface, it looked well. Looked +well, he considered, coming from those who never helped the Chinese in +anything else. Who exploited them, in all possible ways, and +undermined them—undermined the Chinese who were pretty well done for +anyway, by nature, being Chinese. No, he reflected savagely—he had +heard the story—one night some big personage living in one of the big +houses, to which he was never invited—had given a big dinner, with +much wine and fine food and many guests and all the rest of it—and +what happened? No servants, or rather many servants without liveries +or clothing of any kind, everything having been pawned the evening +before over the fan-tan tables. Therefore he, Lawson, was employed by +Government to suppress these gambling houses, to keep the servants +from stealing and pawning their liveries, making embarrassment in the +big, foreign-style houses, making amusement and consternation and +scandal. He had happened along shortly after this affair, and so +obtained the appointment.</p> + +<p>Lawson leaned his forehead against the cold glass, down which the rain +poured in sheets. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>The lights of the French mail glimmered +intermittently through the darkness—to-morrow she would weigh anchor +and be off for Marseilles, for Home. Not that he had a home, as we +have said, but he longed for the familiar look of things, for the +crowds all speaking his own tongue, for the places he knew, the well +known street signs, and the big hoardings. And he couldn't go back. He +had not money enough to go back. Every penny of his little salary went +for living expenses and living comes high in China. To say nothing of +the passage money and the money for afterwards—— A gentle cough +behind him made him turn round in a hurry. His China-boy stood +expectantly in the doorway.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" demanded Lawson sharply. Ah Chang drew in his breath, +not wishing to breathe upon his superior. The indrawn, hissing noise +irritated Lawson immensely. He had been out ten years, and in that +time had never learned that Ah Chang and the others were showing him +respect, deep proofs of Oriental respect, when they sucked in their +breath with that hissing noise, to avoid breathing upon a superior. To +Lawson it was just <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>another horrid trait, another horrid native +characteristic.</p> + +<p>"Man come see Master," observed Ah Chang, addressing space +impersonally. "Heap plenty important business. You see?"</p> + +<p>Anything for a change this dreary evening. "Very well," said Lawson, +"I see."</p> + +<p>In a moment or two, a tall Chinese shuffled into the room, bowing +repeatedly with hands on knees. After which he passed his long slim +hands up into the sleeves of his satin coat, and waited quietly till +the boy withdrew. He gave a swift look about the room, a glance so +hurried that it seemed impossible he could have satisfied himself that +they were alone, and then began to speak. Lawson recognised him at +once as the keeper of a house he had raided the week before, a big, +crowded place, where the police had captured a score of players and +much money. It was an important haul, a notorious den, that they had +been after for a long time. Only it changed its location so often, +moved from place to place each night, or so it seemed, that Lawson had +spent months trying to find it. It is not easy finding such places in +the crowded, native streets of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>Concession, and he had stumbled +upon it by a piece of sheer luck. And the proprietor had been heavily +fined and heavily warned, yet here he stood to-night, silent, +respectful, hands up his sleeves, waiting. For once in his life, +Lawson's imagination worked. He foresaw something portentous looming +in the background of that impenetrable mind, revealed in the steady, +unblinking stare of those slanting Chinese eyes, fixed steadily and +fearlessly and patiently upon his.</p> + +<p>"Sit down," he commanded, with a sweep of his hand towards an upright +chair.</p> + +<br /> +<hr style='width: 15%;' /> +<br /> + +<p>After his visitor had departed, Lawson stood lost in thought. He was +not angry, yet he should have been, he realised. Assuredly he should +have been angry, assuredly he should have kicked his visitor +downstairs. But as it was, he remained in deep thought, pondering over +a suggestion that had been made to him. The suggestion, stripped of +certain Oriental qualities of flowery phraseology and translated from +pidgin-English into business English, was the merest, most vague hint +of an exchange of favours. So slight was the hint, but so +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>overwhelming the possibilities suggested, that, as we have said, +Lawson had not kicked his visitor downstairs, but remained standing +lost in thought for several moments after his departure. As he had +stood earlier in the day, with one foot in the Foreign Concession, and +the other on Chinese soil, considering the different standards that +obtained in each, so he stood now, figuratively, on the boundary line +of an ethical problem and swayed mentally first towards one side and +then the other. The irony of it, the humour of it, appealed to him. It +seemed so insanely just—just what you might expect. He had been +asked—that was too definite a word—to forego his activities for a +few brief weeks. And during those few brief weeks he could repay +himself, week by week, on Friday nights——</p> + +<p>He had been merely asked—too strong a word—the suggestion had been +merely hinted at—he balanced himself back and forth over the problem. +If his efforts during the next few weeks should prove fruitless, +possible enough, considering the wily race he was dealing with——And +in exchange, well, once a week on Friday night, he could slip outside +the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>boundaries of the Concession to a large, foreign gambling house +kept by and for his own people. By his own people, the Europeans, who +employed him to eradicate gambling from amongst the Chinese. Do you +wonder that he shifted himself back and forth, morally, first from +this point of view, then to that? His own people who objected to +gaming, when it involved the loss of their servants' liveries. But +they had no such scruples when it came to their own pleasure. +Therefore, for their own pleasure, careless of the inconsistency, they +had established a very fine place of their own just outside the +boundaries of the foreign Concession. Lawson had heard of the place +before—the most famous, the most notorious on the China Coast. Kept +by the son of a parson, so he had been told, a University graduate. +Once, ten years ago, he had gone there and lost a month's pay in an +evening. But now it was to be different. He could go there now, every +Friday night, and reap the reward of his inability to discover Chinese +dens within the Concession.</p> + +<p>For nearly an hour he remained undecided, then determined to test the +offer made <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>him—but offer was too strong a word. And his salary was +so meagre, so abominably small. And the people in the big houses would +have none of him, they never invited him, he was left so alone, to +himself. He was intensely homesick. Therefore, still on the boundary +line, he went to the telephone and called up a certain number. In a +confident manner he asked for a limousine. After which he got into his +overcoat, muffled himself up well around the ears and nose, for the +air outside was cold with a biting north wind, and the rain still +drove slantwise in torrents. In a few moments Ah Chang announced that +the calliage had come.</p> + +<p>Round the earner from his lodgings on a side street and in darkness, +stood a big car with the motor puffing violently. It was a big, +handsome car, very long, and on the front seat sat two men in livery, +one of whom jumped down briskly to open the door. Lawson entered and +sank down into the soft cushions, for it was very luxurious. Then the +car moved on briskly, without any directions from himself, and he +leaned back upon the cushions and took pleasure in the luxury of it, +and of the two men in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>livery upon the front seat, and enjoyed the +pouring rain which dashed upon the glass, yet left him so dry and +comfortable within. "They will only think it's inconsistent—that's +all," he said to himself, "if they ever find out—which is unlikely."</p> + +<p>Beyond the confines of the Settlement the motor rapidly made its way, +slipping noiselessly over the smooth, wet asphalt, and then out along +the bumpy roads beyond the city limits. All was dark now, the street +lamps having been left behind with the ending of the good roads, and +the car jolted along slowly, over deep ruts. A stretch of open country +intervened between the Settlement and a native village of clustering +mud huts. Lawson, having no imagination, was not impressed with his +position. People did all sorts of things in China, just as +elsewhere—only here, in China, it was so much easier to get away with +it. His coming to-night might be considered inconsistent, he repeated +over and over to himself, but nothing more. Every one did it, he +reassured himself.</p> + +<p>The car stopped finally, before a pair of high, very solid black +gates, and the footman <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>jumped off the box to open the door. He was +conscious of a small grill with a yellow face peeping out, backed by +flickering lantern light, of a rainy, windswept compound, with a shaft +of light from an open door flooding the courtyard. Then he was inside +a warm, bright anteroom, with an obsequious China-boy relieving him of +overcoat and muffler, and he became aware of many big, fur-lined +overcoats, hanging on pegs on the wall. Beyond, in the adjoining room, +were two long tables, the players seated with their backs to him, +absorbed. Only a few people were present, for the night was early. +There was no one there he knew—even had there been, he would not have +cared. He drew out a chair and seated himself confidently, while a +China-boy pushed a box of cigars towards him, a very good brand. And +behind came another boy with a tray of whisky and soda, while a third +boy carried sandwiches. It was all very well done, he thought +absently. The proprietor, being a parson's son and a University +graduate, did it very well. There was no disorder, it was all +beautifully done. He wondered what amount of squeeze the Chinese +received, for allowing such a fine place <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>to remain undisturbed on +Chinese soil. A very big squeeze, certainly. They would surely be very +grasping, considering the warfare waged against them, upon their own +establishments, by the Europeans. It was all very interesting. Lawson +considered the matter critically, from various angles, knowing what he +knew. He sorted his chips carefully. It must pay the parson's son +well, he concluded, to be able to run such a fine place, in such +style, with so much to eat and drink and all, and with all those +motors to carry out the guests. All this in addition to the +squeeze—it must really be an enormous squeeze. And the people for +whose amusement this was established, were the people who were +employing him——</p> + +<p>For a brief, fleeting second his eye rested upon the calm, +unquestioning face of the Chinese at the wheel, brother of the +proprietor of the fan-tan place he had raided a week ago. The placid +eye of the Oriental fixed his for the fraction of a second, even as he +called out the winning numbers. There was no recognition either way, +yet Lawson felt himself flushing. The wheel spun again and slowly +stopped, and he found himself gathering in thirty-five chips, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>raking +them in with eager fingers over the green cloth. It was all right +then, after all!</p> + +<br /> +<hr style='width: 15%;' /> +<br /> + +<p>Lawson was going home. Speaking about this, some said, Well enough—he +has become quite incompetent of late. Getting stale, probably. Unable +to discover the obvious, losing his keenness. Ten years in the Far +East about does for one. But with Lawson, the situation was different. +He had become so tired of boundary lines, of perpetual swaying back +and forth from one side to the other, without conviction. Geographical +and moral concessions, wrong here, right there, had blurred his sense +of the abstract. All he was conscious of was an overwhelming desire to +leave it all and go home. And now he was going home. He was very glad. +It hurt to be so glad. He was going away from China, forever. He was +going back to his own land, where he was born, where he belonged, even +though there was no one to welcome his return. There was no roof to +receive him save an attic roof, rented for a few shillings a week. For +though he had plenty of money now, he still thought in small sums. He +was glad to be going home—the joy was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>painful. His chief praised him +a little at parting, and said he had done good work and hoped his +successor would do as well. Regretted his departure at this moment, +since that old fellow who kept such a notorious den was breaking loose +again, more villainous, more elusive than ever. Lawson heard this with +astonishment, with infinite regret. Wished he could have stayed to see +it ended.</p> + +<p>He was going home. It hurt to be so glad. In all these years he had +been so utterly lonely, so utterly miserable. His few companions came +down to the landing stage on the Bund to see him off, to wish him +luck. They were rather wistful, for they also knew loneliness. They +had tried to forget about this longing for home in the many ways of +forgetfulness that the East offered, nevertheless they were wistful. +Lawson understood, he felt great pity for them. He advised them to get +away before they were done for, for the East does for many people in +the long run. The launch, waiting to take him down river where the +steamer lay anchored, grated against the steps of the landing stage, +as if eager to be off.</p> + +<p>"I wish," said one of his friends, "that we <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>had your luck—that we +too were going home."</p> + +<p>Lawson's heart ached for them. He had experience but no imagination. +"Yes," he said simply, "it is very good to be going Home."</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="CIVILIZATION" id="CIVILIZATION"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h1>CIVILIZATION</h1> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span><br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span><br /> + +<h2>IV</h2> + +<h3>CIVILIZATION<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> +<br /> + +<h4>I</h4> + +<p>Maubert leaned against the counter in his wine-shop, reading a paper +that had just come to him—an official looking paper, which he held +unsteadily, unwillingly, and which trembled a little between his big, +thick fingers. Behind the counter sat Madame Maubert, knitting. Before +her, ranged neatly on the zinc covered shelf, was a row of inverted +wine glasses, three of them still dripping, having been washed after +the last customers by a hasty dip into a bucket of cold water.</p> + +<p>"Mobilised," said Maubert slowly. "I am mobilised—at last." Madame +Maubert looked up from her knitting. For a year now they had both been +expecting this, for the war had been going on for over a year, and +Maubert, while over age and below par in physical condition, was still +a man and as such likely to be <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>called into the reserves. The two +exchanged glances.</p> + +<p>"When?" asked Madame Maubert, resuming her clicking.</p> + +<p>"At once, imbecile," replied her husband stolidly. "Naturally," he +continued, "when one is at last sent for, there can be no delay. I +must report at once."</p> + +<p>"Oh, la la," said Madame Maubert, noncommittally.</p> + +<p>Maubert glanced round his shop, his little wine-shop, his lucrative +little business that he had made successful. Very well. His wife must +run it alone now, as best she could. As best she could, that was +evident. She could do many things well. She must do it now while he +went forth into service of some kind—into a munition factory +probably, or perhaps near the front, as orderly to an officer, or as +sentinel, perhaps, along some road in the First Zone of the Armies. He +would not be placed on active service—he was too old for that. +Nevertheless it meant a horrid jarring out of his usual routine of +life, consequently he was angry and resentful, and there was no fine +glow of pride or patriotism or such-like feeling in his breast. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>Bah! +All that sort of thing had vanished from men long and long ago, after +the first few bitter weeks of war and of realisation of the meaning of +war. War was now an affair—a sordid, ugly affair, and Maubert knew it +as well as any man. Living in his backwater of a village, keeper of +the principal wine-shop of the village, his zinc counter rang every +night under emphatic fists, emphasising emphatic remarks about the +war, and the remarks were true but devoid of romance. They differed +considerably from the tone of the daily press.</p> + +<p>From the kitchen beyond came the clattering of dishes, and some +talking in immature, childish voices, and the insistent, piping tones +of a quite young child. They were all in there, all four of them, the +eldest twelve, the youngest four, and Maubert and his wife leaned +across the zinc counter and looked at each other.</p> + +<p>"It is your fault," he said slowly, with conviction. His eyes, deep +set, ugly, sunken, glared angrily into hers. "It is your fault that I +am mobilised."</p> + +<p>She sat still, rather bewildered, gazing at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>him steadily. "You wished +it!" he began again, "You coward! You trembling coward!"</p> + +<p>Still Madame Maubert made no sign, waiting further explanations. She +laid down her knitting and took her elbows in her hands, and by +gripping her elbows firmly, stopped the trembling he spoke of.</p> + +<p>"You don't understand, eh?" he went on sneeringly. "Always thinking of +yourself, of your pretty figure, how to keep yourself always here at +the bar, pretty and attractive, ready to gossip with all comers. +Nothing must interrupt that. You'd done your share, all that was +necessary. And I—poor fool—I let you! I didn't insist—I gave +in——"</p> + +<p>"You wish to say——?" began Madame Maubert at last, breaking her +silence.</p> + +<p>"Yes! To say just that!" burst out Maubert. "Just that—you coward! +When you might have—when you might have—made <i>this</i> out of the +question for me." He shook his order for mobilisation. Again there was +a noise from the kitchen, again the sound of many young voices, and +one voice that ended in a cry, an irritated, angry, querulous howl.</p> + +<p>"I see," said Madame Maubert slowly, "five <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>instead of four—five +would have made it safe for you—eh? I didn't think of that—at the +time."</p> + +<p>"Of your own self at the time—as always!" ground out Maubert, very +angry. He was a very big man, of the bully type, with a red neck that +swelled under his anger, or on the occasions when he had taken too +much red wine—which meant that it swelled very often and made him a +great brute, and his wife disliked him, and tried to put the zinc +counter between them or anything else that gave shelter.</p> + +<p>"You selfish coward!" he cried out again, and slammed his fist down, +and then raised it again and shook it at her, "You could have saved me +from this—this—being mobilised——! Five instead of four! Five +instead of four! Then I would have been exempt, no matter what +happened! You contemptible——"</p> + +<p>He struck at his wife, but missed her. The doorway darkened and two +soldiers entered, limping.</p> + +<p>"My husband is mobilised," exclaimed Madame Maubert quickly. "His +country needs him—he is rather elevated in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>consequence! Doubtless he +will be of the auxiliaries, where there is less danger. Discomfort, +perhaps, but less danger. Nevertheless he is regretful," she concluded +scornfully. The simple soldiers, home on leave, laughed uproariously. +They placed a few sous upon the counter and asked for wine, and drank +to Maubert solicitously. Then they all drank together, to one +another's good fortune, and to La Patrie.</p> + +<br /> + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>Maubert was at the Front. Near it, that is, but in the First Zone of +the Armies and shut off from communication with the rear. He was shut +off from communication with his wife and family, isolated in a little +hut standing by the roadside, his sentry box. A little box of straw +standing upright on the roadside, and with just enough room for him +inside, also standing upright. No more. Whenever he heard the whir of +a motor coming down the road, he opened his front door and stood +squarely in the middle of the roadway, waving a red flag by day or a +lantern by night, and expecting, both night and day, to be run down +and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>killed by the onrushing motor. He flagged the ambulances and got +cursed for it. He flagged the General's car and got cursed for it. +Impossible pieces of paper were shoved out to him to read, filled with +unintelligible hieroglyphics, which he could not read, which he made a +vain pretence of reading and then concluded were all right. After +which the car or the ambulance dashed on again, and he communed with +himself within his hut, wondering whether the car was carrying a +uniformed spy, or whether the ambulance was carrying a spy hidden +under its brown wings, beneath the seat somewhere. It was all so +perplexing and precarious, this business of sentry duty. The papers +issued by the D.E.S. were so illegible. Sometimes they were blue, +sometimes pink, and the remarks written on them were such that no one +could understand or know what they were about. People had the right to +circulate by this road or that—and when they were trying to circulate +by a route not specified in the blue or pink paper, they always +explained glibly that it was because they had missed the way, and made +the wrong turning. It was all so perplexing. Whenever he stopped their +cars, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>the General was always so furiously impatient, and the +ambulance drivers were always so furiously impatient, and one asked +you if you did not respect the Army of France, and the other if you +did not respect the wounded of France, if you had no pity for them, +and must delay them—altogether it was very perplexing. Maubert always +had the impression that if he failed in his duties, if he let through +a general who wore stripes and medals galore, yet who was a spy +general, that he would be courtmartialed and shot. Or if he let +through an ambulance full of wounded—apparently—yet with a spy +concealed in the body—that he would be courtmartialed and shot. +Always he had in his mind this fear of being courtmartialed and shot, +and it made him very nervous, and he did not like to tell people that +he could barely read and write. Very barely able to read and write, +and totally unable to read the hieroglyphics written on the pink and +blue papers issued down the road by Headquarters, at the D.E.S. He +felt that some one ought to know these facts about himself, these +extenuating circumstances, in case of trouble. Yet he hesitated to +give himself away. Bad as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>it was, there were worse jobs than sentry +duty.</p> + +<p>A little way down the road there was an <i>estaminet</i>, where he slept +when he could, where he spent his leisure hours, where he bought as +much wine as he could pay for. But his sentry box always confronted +him, which leaked when it rained, and the wind blew through it, and on +certain days, when there was much travel by the road, he hardly spent +a moment inside it but was always standing in the mud and wind of the +highway, waving his flag, and stopping impatient, snorting motors. And +always pretending that he could read the pink and blue papers, angrily +thrust out for his inspection. Too great a responsibility for one who +could barely read and write.</p> + +<p>Came the time, eventually, for his leave. Five days permission. One +day to get to Paris. One day from Paris to his province. One day in +his province at home with his wife. One day back to Paris, one day to +get back to his sentry box in the First Zone of the Armies. Not much +time, all considered. He bought a bottle of wine at the <i>estaminet</i>, +and got aboard the train for Paris. Somewhere along the route came a +long stop, and he bought another <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>bottle of wine—forty centimes. +Another stop, and another bottle of wine. He thought much of his wife +during these long hours of the journey—thoughts augmented and made +glowing by three bottles of wine. She wasn't so bad, after all.</p> + +<p>The Gare Montparnasse was reached, and he got off, dizzily, to change +trains. He knew, vaguely, that to get to his province in the interior, +he must first somehow get to the Gare du Nord. There was a Métro +entrance somewhere about the Gare Montparnasse and he tried to find +it. The Métro would take him to the Gare du Nord. No good. Such crowds +of people all about, and they called him Mon Vieux, and pulled him +this way and that, laughing with him, offering him cigarettes and +happy comments, received by a brain in which three bottles of wine +were already fermenting. Thus it happened that he missed the Métro +entrance, and instead of finding a métro to take him to the Gare du +Nord, he missed the entrance, turned quite wrong, and walked up the +middle of the rue de la Gaiétè. And because of the three bottles of +wine within him—entirely within his head—he walked <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>light-heartedly +up the rue de la Gaiétè, with his helmet tossed backwards on his +shaggy head, his heavy kit swinging in disordered fashion from his +shoulders, his mouth open, shouting meaningless things to the +passers-by, and his steps very short, jerky and unsteady. Thus it +happened, that many people, seeing him in this condition, shuddered, +and asked what France had come to, when she must place her faith in +such men as that. Other people, however, laughed at him, and made way +for him, or closed in on him and squeezed his arm, and whispered +things into his ears. Back and forth he ricochetted along the narrow +street, singing and swinging, mouth open, with strange, happy cries +coming from it. Some laughed and said what a pity, and others laughed +and said how perfectly natural and what could you expect.</p> + +<p>Presently down the street came a big, double decked tramcar, and +Maubert stood in front of the tramcar, refusing to give way. It should +have presented a blue paper to him—or a pink paper—anyway, there he +stood in front of it, asking for its permission to circulate, and as +it had no permission, it stopped within an inch of running over him, +while the conductor <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>leaned forward shouting curses. Then it was that +a firm but gentle hand inserted itself within Maubert's arm, while a +firm but gentle voice asked Maubert to be a good boy and come with +her. Maubert was very dazed, and also perplexed that he had not +received a paper from the big, double-decked tramcar, which obviously +had no right to circulate without such permission, sanctioned by +himself. He was gently drawn off the tracks, by that unknown arm, +while the big tramcar proceeded on its way without permission. It was +all wrong, yet Maubert felt himself drawn to one side of the roadway, +felt himself still propelled along by that gentle but firm arm, and +looked to see who was leading him. He was quite satisfied by what he +saw. The three bottles of wine made him very uncritical, but they also +inflamed certain other faculties. To these other faculties his +befogged mind gave quick response. To Hell with the tramcar, papers or +no papers, pink or blue. Also, although not quite so emphatically, he +relinquished all thoughts of arriving at the Gare du Nord, and of +finding a train to take him home to his province, where his wife +lived. The reasons that made him <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>desire his wife, were quite +satisfied with the gentle pressure on his arm. Thus it happened that +big Maubert, shaggy and dirty and drunk, reeling down the rue de la +Gaiétè, very suddenly gave up all idea of finding his way to his +province in the interior.</p> + +<p>Never mind about those three days in Paris. Maubert was quite sober +when he got on the train again at Montparnasse. He did not regret his +larger vacation. He had had a very good permission, take it all in +all.</p> + +<br /> + +<h4>III</h4> + +<p>At about the time that Maubert found himself mobilised and summoned +into the reserves, a further mobilisation of subjects of the French +Empire was taking place in certain little known, outlying dominions of +the "Empire." I should have said Republic or even Democracy. The +result, however, is all the same. In certain outlying portions of the +mighty Empire or Republic or Democracy, as you will, further +mobilisation of French subjects was taking place, although in these +outlying dominions the forces were not mobilised but <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>volunteered. +That is to say, the headsman or chief of a certain village, lying +somewhere between the Equator and ten degrees North latitude, was +requested by those in authority to furnish so many volunteers. The +word being thus passed round, volunteers presented themselves, +voluntarily. Among them was Ouk. Ouk knew, having been so informed by +the headsman of his village, that failure to respond to this +opportunity meant a voluntary sojourn in the jungle. Ouk hated the +jungle. All his life he had lived in terror of it, of the evil forces +of the jungle, strangling and venomous, therefore he did not wish to +take refuge amongst them, for he knew them well. Of the two +alternatives, the risks of civilization seemed preferable. +Civilization was an unknown quantity, whereas the jungle was familiar +to himself and his ancestors, and the fear transmitted by his +ancestors was firmly emplanted in his mind. Therefore he had no +special desire to sojourn amongst the mighty forces of the forest, +which he knew to be overwhelming. At that time, he did not know that +the forces of civilization were equally sinister, equally +overwhelming. All his belated brain knew, was that if he failed to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>answer the call of those in authority, he must take refuge in the +forests. Which was sure death. It was sure death to wander +defenceless, unarmed, in the twilight gloom of noon day, enveloped by +dense overgrowth, avoiding venomous serpents and vile stinging insects +by day, and crouching by night from man-eating tigers. It presented +therefore, no pleasant alternative—no free wandering amidst +beautiful, tropical trees and vines heavy with luscious fruits—there +would be no drinking from running streams in pleasant, sunlit +clearings. Ouk knew the jungle, and as the alternative was +civilization, he chose civilization which he did not yet know. +Therefore he freely offered himself one evening, coming from his +native village attired in a gay sarong, a peaked hat, and nothing +more. He entered a camp, where he found himself in company with other +volunteers, pressed into the service of civilization by the same +pressure that had so appealed to himself. There were several hundred +of them in this camp, all learning the ways of Europe, and learning +with difficulty and pain. The most painful thing, perhaps, were the +coarse leather shoes they were obliged to wear. Ouk's feet <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>had been +accustomed to being bare—clad, on extreme occasions, with pliant +straw sandals. He garbed them now, according to instructions, in hard, +coarse leather shoes, furnished by those in authority, which they told +him would do much to protect his sensitive feet against the cold of a +French winter. Ouk had no ideas as to the rigours of a French winter, +but the heavy shoes were exceedingly painful. In exchange for his gay +sarong, they gave him a thick, ill fitting suit of khaki flannel, in +which he smothered, but this, they likewise explained to him, would do +much to protect him from the inclemency of French weather. Thus wound +up and bound up, and suffering mightily in the garb of European +civilization, Ouk gave himself up to learn how to protect it. The +alternative to this decision, being as we have said, an alternative +that he could not bring himself to face.</p> + +<p>Three months of training being accomplished, Ouk and his companions +were by that time fitted to go forth for the protection of great +ideals. They were the humble defenders of these ideals, and from time +to time the newspapers spoke in glowing terms, of their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>sentimental, +clamorous wish to defend them. Even in these remote, unknown regions, +somewhere between the Equator and ten degrees North latitude, +volunteers were pressing forward to uphold the high traditions of +their masters. Ouk and his companions knew nothing of these sonorous, +ringing phrases in the papers. They knew only of the alternative, the +jungle. Time came and the day came when they were all ushered forth +from their training camp, packed into a big junk, and released into +the stormy tossings of the harbour, there to await the arrival of the +French Mail, that was to convey them to Europe. The sun beat down hot +upon them, in their unaccustomed shoes and khaki, the harbour waves +tossed violently, and the French Mail was late. Eventually it arrived, +however, and they all scrambled aboard, passing along a narrow +gangplank from which four of them slipped and were drowned in the sea. +But four out of five hundred was a small matter, quite insignificant.</p> + +<p>When the French Mail arrived at Saigon, Ouk was able to replenish his +supply of betel nut and sirra leaves, buying them from coolies in +bobbing sampans, which sampans had been <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>allowed to tie themselves to +the other side of the steamer. At Singapore also he bought himself +more betel nut and sirra leaves, but after leaving Singapore he was +unable to replenish his stock, and consequently suffered. Every one +with him, in that great company of volunteers, also suffered. It was +an unexpected deprivation. The ship ploughed along, however, the +officers taking small notice of Ouk and his kind—indeed, they only +referred to Ouk by number, for no one of those in authority could +possibly remember the outlandish names of these heathen. Nor did their +names greatly matter.</p> + +<p>Time passed, the long voyage was over, and Ouk landed at Marseilles. +In course of time he found himself placed in a small town in one of +the provinces, the very town from which Maubert had been released to +go to the Front. Thus it happened that there were as many men in that +town as had been taken away from it, only the colour and the race of +the men had changed. The nationality of all of them, however, was the +same—they were all subjects of the mighty French Empire or Democracy, +and in France race prejudice is practically nil. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>Therefore Ouk, who +worked in a munition factory, found himself regarded with curiosity +and with interest, though not with prejudice. Thus it happened that +Madame Maubert found herself gazing at Ouk one evening, from behind +the safe security of her zinc covered bar. Curiosity and interest were +in her soul, but no particular sense of racial superiority. Ouk and +some companions, speaking together in heathen jargon, were seated +comfortably at one of the little yellow tables of the café, learning +to drink wine in place of the betel nut of which they had been +deprived. All through the day they worked in one of the big factories, +but in the evenings they were free, and able to mix with civilization +and become acquainted with it. And they became acquainted with it in +the bar of Madame Maubert, who served them with yellow wine, and who +watched, from her safe place behind the zinc covered counter, the +effect of yellow wine upon yellow bodies which presumably contained +yellow souls—if any.</p> + +<p>All this made its impression upon Ouk. All this enforced labour and +civilization and unaccustomed wine. So it happened that one <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>evening +Ouk remained alone in the bar after his companions had gone, and he +came close up to the zinc covered counter behind which was seated +Madame Maubert, and he regarded her steadily. She too, regarded him +steadily, and beheld in his slim, upright figure something which +attracted her. And Ouk beheld in Madame Maubert something which +attracted him. Seated upon her high stool on the other side of the +counter, she towered above him, but he felt no awe of her, no sense of +her superiority. True, she looked somewhat older than the girls in his +village, but on the other hand, she had a pink and white skin, and Ouk +had not yet come in contact with a pink and white skin. Nor had Madame +Maubert ever seen, close to, the shining, beautiful skin of a young +Oriental. After all, were they not both subjects of the same great +nation, were they not both living and sacrificing themselves for the +preservation of the same ideals? Madame Maubert had given up her man. +Ouk had given up—heaven knows what—the jungle! Anyway, such being +the effect of yellow wine upon Ouk, and such being the effect of Ouk +on Madame Maubert, they both leaned their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>elbows upon opposite sides +of the zinc counter that evening and looked at each other. For a whole +year Madame Maubert's husband had been away from her, and for nearly a +whole year Ouk had been away from the women of his kind, and suddenly +they realised, gazing at each other from opposite sides of the zinc +covered bar, that Civilization claimed them. Each had a duty to +perform towards its furtherance and enhancement.</p> + +<br /> + +<h4>IV</h4> + +<p>Let us now go back to Maubert, standing for long months within his +straw covered hut, or standing in the roadway in front of it, +demanding passports. Every day, for many months past, he remembered +his misspent permission and cursed the way he had passed it. Passed it +in so futile a manner. Things might have been so different. His +companions often chaffed him about it, chaffed him rudely. For he had +never seen fit to tell them that he had not gone down to his home in +the provinces, as they thought he had, but had been ensnared by some +woman in Paris who had pulled him <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>away from a passing tram on the rue +de la Gaiétè. One day the <i>vaguemestre</i> brought him a letter. He was +very dizzy when he read it. Everything swam round. Rage and relief +combated together in his limited brain. Rage and relief—rage and +relief! He could take his letter to the authorities and demand his +release—or——</p> + +<p>For now he had five children, had Maubert. No one would question it. +In his hand lay the letter of his wife. Five children. The fifth just +born. That meant release from the service of his country. She said she +was sorry. That she had done it for him. He would understand. But +Maubert did not understand. He remembered his misspent permission, and +the thought of it nauseated him. She, too. The thought of it nauseated +him. Certainly he did not understand.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, the authorities had on their books the date of his +permission. He looked again at the letter of his wife. The dates +coincided admirably. He had but to go to his superior officer and show +him the letter of his wife, announcing the birth of their fifth child. +Then he would be free. Free <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>from the service of his country, the +hated service, the examining of passports presented by a rushing +General, by a rushing ambulance, by some rushing motor that was +perhaps carrying a spy.</p> + +<p>He so hated it all. But now, more than anything else, he hated his +wife. He would accept his release and go home and kill her. He +wouldn't be free any more if he did that, however. He argued it out +with himself. So he couldn't kill her. He must accept it. If he +accepted his release from the service of his country, he must accept +it on her terms. He spent a long day in the rain and the wind, +thinking it out. But he thought it out at last. He would accept her +terms, obtain his release, go home and see—and then decide.</p> + +<p>He told his Colonel about it, and his Colonel chaffed him, and looked +over some papers, and finally set in motion the mechanism by which he +was finally set free from the service of his country. It took some +weeks before this was accomplished, but it was finally done. And when +he arrived in Paris, coming down from his post in the First Zone of +the Armies, he was painfully sober. No more wine that day <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>for him. No +more wine, bought at the <i>estaminet</i> before he left, or bought during +the long journey down to Paris. No more zig-zagging up the rue de la +Gaiétè. He found the Métro entrance at the exit of the Gare +Montparnasse, took the train, and arrived, shortly afterwards, at the +Gare du Nord, very sober. Very sober and angry.</p> + +<p>And when he reached his home in the provinces, he was still sober and +still angry. Nor did he know what he should do. He did not know +whether he should kill his wife or not. If he did, he must go back to +the Front. And he hated the Front. He hated his duties, sentry duty, +in the First Zone of the Armies. He could not report to his Colonel +again, and say, "Give me back my sentry box—let me serve my +country—that fifth child is not mine!" He was in a tight place, +surely. But at his home, his mood changed, his wife was very gentle. +She said she had been wrong.</p> + +<p>"Ouk is dead," she said. "All those poor little men who come from the +Tropics die very soon in our cold, damp weather. They cannot stand it. +The khaki flannels we give them do not warm them. There is not much +wool in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>them. The cold penetrates into their bones. They catch cold +and die, all of them, sooner or later. It is an extravagance, +importing them."</p> + +<p>Therefore he was mollified. "For your sake," said his wife. Maubert +looked down at the fifth child lying in its cradle. The child that +brought him release from the service of his country—release from +sentry duty, from looking at hastily shoved out, unintelligible +passports.</p> + +<p>"For your sake," repeated his wife, slipping her arm through his arm. +"Very well," said Maubert stiffly. All the same, he thought to +himself, the child certainly looks like a Chinese.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span><br /> +<a name="MISUNDERSTANDING" id="MISUNDERSTANDING"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h1>MISUNDERSTANDING</h1> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span><br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span><br /> + +<h2>V</h2> + +<h3>MISUNDERSTANDING<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> +<br /> + +<h4>I</h4> + +<p>They say out here, that one can never understand the native mind and +its workings. So primitive are they, these quiet, gentle, +brown-skinned men and women, crouching over their compound fires in +the evening, lazily driving the lumbering buffaloes in the rice +fields, living their facile life, here on the edge of the jungle. So +primitive are they, these gentle, simple forest people.</p> + +<p>In the towns—oh, but they are not made for the towns, they are so +strangely out of place in the towns which the foreigner has contrived +for himself on the borders of their brown, sluggish rivers, towns +which he has created by pushing backward for a little the jungle, +while he builds his pink and yellow bungalows beneath the palm trees, +and spaces them between the banana trees, along straight tracks which +he calls roads. Wide, red roads, which the natives have made under +his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>direction, and deep, cool bungalows, which the natives have made +under his direction. Altogether, they are his towns, the foreigners' +towns, and he has constructed them so that they may remind him of his +home, ten thousand miles across the world.</p> + +<p>It is not necessary to try to fancy the natives in these foreign +towns. They mean nothing to him, and are far distant from his +tendencies and desires. His own villages are different—thatched huts, +erected on bamboo piles, roofed with palm leaves. They cluster close +together along the winding brown rivers, on the edge of the jungle. +Mounted very high on their stilts of bamboo, crowding each other very +close together, compound touching compound for the sake of +companionship and safety. Safety from the wild beasts of the forests, +those that cry by night, and howl and prowl and kill; safety from the +serpents, whose sting is death, shelter, protection, from all the +dark, lurking dangers of the jungle—the evil, mighty forests, at +whose edge, between it and the winding yellow rivers, they build +themselves their homes. Yes, but life is very easy here, just the +same. A little stirring of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>rich earth in the clearings, and food +springs forth. A little paddling up the stream or down, in a pirogue +or a sampan, a net strung across the sluggish waters, and there is +food again. A little wading in shallow, sunlit pools, a swift strike +with a trident, and a fish is caught. And fruit hangs heavy from the +trees. Life is very easy in these countries. And with the coming of +the sudden sunset of the Tropics, the evening fires are lighted in the +compounds and there is gathering together, with song and laughter, +rest and ease. So as life is very facile in the jungle, love of money +is unknown. Why money—what can it mean? Why toil for something which +one has no use for, cannot spend? Just enough, perhaps, to bargain +with the white man for some simple need—to buy a water buffalo, +maybe, for ploughing in the rice fields. No more than that—it's not +needed. And the very little coins, the very, very little coins, two +dozen of them making up the white man's penny, just enough of these +left over to stick upon the lips of Buddha, at the corners, with a +little gum. Thus a prayer to Buddha, and the offering of a little +coin, stuck with resin to the god's lips, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>as an offering. That is +all. Life is very simple, living in one's skin.</p> + +<p>I have said all this so that you might understand. Only, remember, no +one understands, quite, the workings of the savage mind. And these of +whom I write are gentle savages, and their way of life is simple, +primitive and crude. Only, upon contact with the white man, some of +this has been obliged to wear off a little. They have had to become +adaptive, to assume a little polish, as it were. But at heart, after +these many years of contact, they are still simple. They are mindless, +gentle, squatting bare backed in the shade, chewing, spitting, betel +nut. Chewing as the ox chews, thinking as the ox thinks. Gentle brown +men and women, touching the edge of the most refined civilization of +the western world.</p> + +<p>The tale jerks here—why shouldn't it? The Lieutenant told me this bit +of it himself—he lives in the foreigners' town, and keeps order +there. There was a revolt last year. But that is too dignified a word, +it assumes too much, it assumes something that there never was. For +revolt signifies organisation, and there wasn't any. It signifies a +general <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>understanding, and there wasn't any. It signifies great +numbers involved, and there were no great numbers. How could there +have been any of these things, said the Lieutenant, among a scattered +people, scattered through the jungle, on the edges of the warm, mighty +forests, at the headwaters of the great winding rivers which penetrate +inland for a thousand miles. No, it was in no sense a revolt, which is +too strong a word. They had no organisation, they could not +communicate with each other, had they wished. Distances were great, +and they could not read or write. They had never been molested—never +schooled. It was better so. Education is no good to a squatter in the +shade. No, it was rather an uprising of a handful of them in the town +of the white man, the town of red earth streets, with pink and yellow +bungalows, cool and sheltered under spreading palms. The town where +many foreigners lived, who walked about listlessly in their white +linen clothes, ghastly pale, with dark rings beneath their eyes, who +stifled in the heat and thought of Home, ten thousand miles away. It +all happened suddenly, no one knows how or why. But one morning, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>just +after the sun rose in his red, burning splendour, there crept into the +town a few hundred men. They came in by this red street, with the +statue of the Bishop at the top—the bronze statue of the Bishop who +had lived and worked and died here years ago. They came by the red +street leading past the bazaar, the model market, fashioned, with +improvements, like the one at home. They came by the red street +leading past the Botanical Garden, the gardens where at the close of +scorching days the women of the white man, ghastly white, used to +drive before sunset, to breathe a little after the stifling day. They +came along the quais, where the white man's ships found harbour. +Altogether, creeping in on many roads, coming in their fours and +fives, they made about three hundred. And they were in revolt, if you +please, against the representatives of the most refined civilization +of the western world! Just three hundred, no more. Not a ripple of it, +apparently, spread backwards to the jungle, to the millions inland, in +the forests.</p> + +<p>What happened? Oh, it was all over in an hour! The Lieutenant heard +them <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>coming—his orderly ran in with the word—and he was out in an +instant with eight men. Eight soldiers armed with rifles. It was quite +amusing. And opposed to them, that mob, in their peaked hats, in their +loin cloths or their sarongs, bare to waist as usual. Poor fools! +Fancy—not a gun among them! They thought they were invisible! The +geomancer had told them that, and they believed him. Carried at their +head a flag, some outlandish, homemade thing, with unknown characters +upon it. Well, it was all over in a moment—those eight men armed with +guns saw to that. Short work—thirty wounded, fourteen killed. The +rest scattered, but before the day was out they had them—had them in +two hours, for a fact. All disarmed, and the Lieutenant had their +weapons. Come to see them at his bungalow, if we'd time? Interesting +lot of trophies, most unique collection. Quite unequalled. Homemade +spears, forged and hammered, stuck on bamboo poles. Homemade swords, +good blades, too, for all their crudeness. Must have taken months to +make them, fashioned slyly, on the quiet. Killing weapons, meant to +kill. Swords like the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>Crusaders, only cased in bamboo scabbards. +Funny lot—come to see them if we'd time. Nothing like it, a unique +collection. And the flag—red cotton flag, all blood stained, with +some device in corner, just barbaric. Poor fools! Flag pathetic? +Pathetic? Heavens, no!</p> + +<p>Well, they stamped it out very thoroughly, at four o'clock that +afternoon. It finished at the race course, for there is always a race +course where the white man rules. Word went round, as it always goes +round in times like this, and just before sunset the whole native +population was out to see the white man's method. No one hindered them +or feared them, for apparently they had no hand in this uprising, and +moreover, were unarmed. They were full of curiosity to see what they +should see. Silently they trooped out in hundreds through the shady, +palm bordered, red streets of the town, padding barefoot past the +sheltered bungalows, past the bronze statue of the Bishop, out to the +edge of the town. All the Tropics was there, moving silently, flowing +gently, in their hundreds, to the race course. Dark skins, yellow +skins, eyes straight, eyes <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>slanting, black hair cut short, or worn in +pigtails, or in top knots, or in chignons; bare bodies, bare legs, or +legs clothed in brilliant sarongs or in flapping pyjamas—all the +costumes of all the countries bordering the Seven Seas streamed +outward from the town, very silent. And as the sun blazed low to his +setting; all the Tropics waited to see what the white man would do.</p> + +<p>They did it very cleverly, the white men. For they called upon the +native troops to do it for them, to see if they were loyal. There were +thirty-four prisoners all told, and they walked along with hands bound +behind them, looking very stupid. Even as they walked along, at that +moment the wife of the Lieutenant was showing their crude spears to +friends—she gave tea to her friends in the pink bungalow, and +exhibited the captured weapons, but the Lieutenant was not there—he +was at the race course, supervising.</p> + +<p>They led them forward in groups of six, and they were faced by six +native soldiers armed with rifles. And just behind the six native +soldiers stood six soldiers of the white troops, also with rifles. And +when the word was given <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>to fire, if the native troops had not fired +upon their brothers, the white troops would have fired upon both. It +was cleverly managed, and very well arranged. But there was no hitch. +Six times the native troops fired upon batches of naked, kneeling men, +and six times the white soldiers stood behind them with raised rifles, +in case of hesitation. Only the crack of the rifles broke the +stillness. The dense crowd of natives gathered close, standing by in +silence. Giving no sign, they watched the retribution of the white +man. The sun beat down upon them, in their wide hats, their +semi-nakedness, attired in their sombre or brilliant cotton skirts. +When it was over, they dispersed as quietly as they had gathered. The +silent crowds walked back from the race course, the pleasure ground of +the dominant race, and drifted along the red streets of the town, back +again to the holes and burrows from which they had come.</p> + +<br /> + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>A year later, nearly. The Lieutenant who had quelled the uprising, +with a handful of men armed with rifles of the latest device, as +against <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>three hundred natives armed with spears, had been decorated +and was very proud. He also continued to exhibit his unique collection +of arms to all comers, when the mail boats came in. Nor did he see +their pathos. And in the jungles of the interior, where most of them +lived, the natives never knew of the existence of the little red flag, +and would not have understood if they had been told. Why? The white +men were kind and considerate. Easy and indulgent masters who in no +wise interfered with life as lived in the jungle. But with the native +troops who had fired upon their brothers it was different.</p> + +<p>Thus it happened that the small coastwise steamer, going her usual +cruise among the islands and along the coast of one of the Seven Seas, +carried unusual freight. Being a very little boat, with a light cargo, +she was sometimes severely buffeted by the northeast monsoon, which +was blowing at that time of the year. On these days, when the monsoon +was strongest, the few passengers she carried were not comfortable. On +other days, when she found calm weather among the islands, it was very +pleasant. She dropped anchor from time <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>to time in little bays +bordered with cocoanut tree, and from the bays emerged sampans with +vivid painted eyes on their prows, seeking out the steamer and the +bales of rice she carried, or the mails. The mails, consisting of half +a dozen letters for each port, were tied up in big canvas sacks, +sealed with big government seals, and the white men who lived on these +remote, desert islands, would come themselves to fetch them. They +paddled themselves to the steamer in pirogues or in sampans, white +faced, anæmic, apathetic, devoid of vitality. The great, overwhelming +heat of the Tropics, the isolation of life, in unknown islands in the +southern seas, makes one like that. Yet they were "making money" on +their island plantations of rubber or cocoanut, or expecting to make +it. It takes seven years of isolation in the tropic seas, after one +has started a plantation—and even then, many things may happen——</p> + +<p>So the little steamer stopped here and there, at little, unknown bays, +at places not mentioned in the guide books, and from the beautiful, +desolate islands came out sampans and junks, with the lonely figure of +a white man sitting despondent among the naked rowers, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>eager to get +his letters from home. It was his only eagerness, but very dull and +listless at that. At night, the islands loomed large and mysterious in +the darkness, while now and then a single ray of light from some light +house, gleaming from some lost, mysterious island of the southern +seas, beamed with a curious constancy. There were dangerous rocks, +sunken reefs. And always the soft wind blew, the soft, enervating wind +of the Tropics.</p> + +<p>On the fore part of the little steamer, that wound its way with +infinite care, slowly, among the sunken rocks, the shoals and +sandbars, sat a company of fifty men. Natives, such as you might see +back there in the jungle, or harnessed to the needs of civilization, +bearing the white man in rickshaws along the red streets of the little +town. These, however, were native troops—the rickshaw runner used in +another way. They were handcuffed together, sitting in pairs on the +main deck. In the soft, moist wind, they eat rice together, with their +free hands, out of the same bowl. Very dirty little prisoners, clad in +khaki, disarmed, chained together in pairs. A canvas was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>stretched +over that part of the deck, which sheltered them from the glaring sun, +and prevented the odour of them from rising to the bridge, a little +way above, where stood the Captain in yellow crêpe pyjamas. For they +were dirty, handcuffed together like that, unexercised, unwashed. They +would be put ashore in three days, however, to work on the roads, +government roads. Notoriously good roads, the colony has too. Their +offense? Grave enough. With the European world at war, this colony, +like those of all the other nations, had called upon its native +troops. The native troops had been loyal, had responded, had +volunteered to go when told they must. Proof of that? Forty thousand +of them at the moment helping in this devastating war. It was a good +record—it spoke well——</p> + +<p>Only this handful had refused. Refused absolutely, flagrantly defiant. +Just this little group, out of all the thousands. So they were being +sent off somewhere, handcuffed, to make roads. Prisoners for three +years to make roads, useless roads that led nowhere. Good roads, +excellent, for traffic that never was. Some said they were the +soldiers who had been forced <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>to kill their brothers a while +back—after that paltry revolution. One didn't know. They are stupid, +these natives. Chewing betel nut all day, their mouths a red, bloody +gash across their faces.</p> + +<p>The ship stopped finally in some bay. Then a big, unwieldy junk put +out from shore, and tacked back and forth, for two hours, against a +strong head wind, coming to rest finally against the steamer's side. +Two big iron rods were put out, with a padlock at each end, and places +for twenty-five feet to be locked in. Then came European guards, with +rifles, and revolvers in big leather cases hanging at their sides. The +prisoners were very docile, but it was well to take precautions. When +all was ready, the prisoners filed out slowly and with difficulty, +because of their chains, and descended the gangway ladder to the +uncouth junk, with its painted, staring eyes. After that, the junk +slowly detached itself from the ship, unrolled its ragged matting +sails, and made towards the mainland with the docile cargo.</p> + +<p>The third passenger leaned over the rail. A sweet breeze blew in from +the island, a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>scented breeze, laden with the heavy scents of the +Tropics. For three years, he said, they would labour at the futile +roads, the roads that led nowhere. Really, commented the third +passenger, it was impossible to understand the Oriental mind. They had +chosen this—this isolation, this cutting off from home and friends, +rather then go to Europe to serve the race that had treated them so +well. Afraid? Oh, no—too ignorant to be afraid. Brave enough when it +came to that—just obstinate. Just refused to serve, to do as they +were told. Refused to serve, to fight for the race that had treated +them so well, by and large, take it all in all. That had built them +towns and harbours, brought in ships and trade—had done everything, +according to best western standards. It was incomprehensible—truly it +was difficult to fathom the Oriental mind! The revolt a year ago? Oh, +nothing!</p> + +<p>The big junk with the staring eyes carried them off, the supine, +listless prisoners, handcuffed together, foot-locked to an iron bar. +They must build roads for three years. Somewhere at the back of those +slow minds was a memory of the race course, of the brothers <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>they had +slain. Perhaps. Who knows. But the Occidental mind does not understand +the Oriental mind, and it was good to be rid of them, dirty little +creatures, who smelled so bad under the awning of the main deck.</p> + +<p>The anchor chain wound in, grating link on link. The soft, sweet wind +blew outward from the cocoanut trees, from the scented earth of the +island. The third passenger watched the junk disappear in the shadows +of the warm night, then he went below to get another drink.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span><br /> +<a name="PRISONERS" id="PRISONERS"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h1>PRISONERS</h1> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span><br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span><br /> + +<h2>VI</h2> + +<h3>PRISONERS<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> +<br /> + +<p>Mercier was writing his report for the day. He sat at a rattan table, +covered with a disorderly array of papers, ledgers and note books of +various sorts, and from time to time made calculations on the back of +an old envelope. He finally finished his work, and pushing back his +chair, lighted a cigarette. Unconsciously, he measured time by +cigarettes. One cigarette, and he would begin work. One cigarette and +he would start on the first paragraph. One cigarette, to rest after +the first paragraph before beginning the second, and so on. It was +early in the morning, but not early for a morning in the Tropics. +Already the sun was creeping over the edge of the deep, palm-shaded +verandah, making its way slowly across the wooden floor, till it would +reach him, at his table, in a very short time. And as it slowly crept +along, a brilliant line of light, so the heat <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>increased, the moist, +stagnant heat, from which there was no escape. Outside some one was +pulling the punkah rope, and the great leaves of linen, attached to +heavy teak poles, swayed back and forth over his head, stirring +slightly the dense, humid atmosphere.</p> + +<p>Mercier was a young man, not over thirty. He had come out to the East +three years ago, to a minor official post in the Penal Settlement, +glad of a soft position, of easy work, of an opportunity to see life +in the Tropics. At a port on the mainland, he transshipped from the +liner to a little steamer, which two days later dropped anchor in the +blue bay of his future home. At that time, he was conscious of being +intensely pleased at the picture spread before him. Long ago, in +boyhood, he had cherished romantic dreams of the Tropics, of islands +in southern seas, of unknown, mysterious life set in gorgeous, remote +setting. It had all appealed to his fancy, and then suddenly, after +many long years, sordid, difficult years, the opportunity had come for +the realisation of his dreams. He had obtained a post as minor +official in one of the colonies of his country—overseas in the Far +East—and he gladly gave <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>up his dull, routine life at home, and came +out to the adventures that awaited him. The island, as he saw it for +the first time, was beautiful. Steep hills, rocky and mountainous, +rose precipitately out of the blue waters, and the rising sun glinted +upon the topmost peaks of the hills and threw their deep shadows down +upon the bay, and upon the group of yellow stucco bungalows that +clustered together upon the edge of the water, upon the narrow strip +of land lying between the sea and the sheer sides of the backing +mountains. The bay was a crescent, almost closed, and a coral reef ran +in an encircling sweep from the headland beyond, and the translucent, +sparkling waters of the harbour seemed beautiful beyond belief. His +heart beat wildly when for the first time he beheld his new home—it +exceeded in beauty anything that he had ever dreamed of. What mattered +it whether or no it was a Penal Settlement for one of the great, +outlying colonies of his mother country, two days' sail from the +nearest port on the mainland, the port itself ten thousand miles from +home. It was beautiful to look upon—glorious to look upon, and it was +glorious to think that the next few years <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>of his life would be spent +amidst such surroundings. The captain of the coasting steamer told him +it would be lonely—he laughed at the idea. How could one be lonely +amidst such beauty as that! His thirsty soul craved beauty, and here +it was before him, marvellous, complete, the island a gem sparkling in +the sunlight, veiled in the shadow of an early morning. Lying +somewhere, all this beauty, one degree north or south of the Equator!</p> + +<p>No, assuredly, he would not be lonely! Were there not many families on +the island, the officials and their families, a good ten or fifteen of +them? Besides, there was his work. He knew nothing of his work, of his +duties. But in connection with the prisoners, of course—and there +were fifteen hundred prisoners, they told him, concentrated on those +few square miles of island, off somewhere in the Southern Seas, a few +miles north or south of the Equator. He was anxious to see the +prisoners, the unruly ones of the colony. Strange types they would +appear to his conventional, sophisticated eyes. He saw them in +imagination—yellow skins, brown skins, black skins, picturesque, +daring, desperate perhaps. The anchor splashed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>overboard into the +shallow water, and the small steamer drifted on the end of the chain, +waiting for a boat to come out from shore. With the cessation of the +steamer's movement, he felt the heat radiate round him, in an +overpowering wave, making him feel rather sick and giddy. Yet it was +only six o'clock in the morning. Before the boat arrived from shore, +the sun had passed over the highest peak of the mountains and was +glaring down with full power upon the cluster of hidden bungalows, the +edges and ends of which bungalows protruded a little from the shelter +of vines and palm trees. White clad men came down to the beach, and a +woman or two appeared on the verandahs, and then disappeared back into +the verandahs, while the men came down to the water's edge alone. The +rowboat was pulled ashore by strong rowers, dark skinned, brawny men, +and as the boat neared the beach, other dark skinned brawny men took a +carrying chair and splashed out to meet the boat, inviting him by +gestures to step into the chair and be carried ashore. He forgot the +heat in the novelty of this new sensation—being carried ashore in a +chair, with the clear, transparent water <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>beneath him, and wavy sands, +shell studded, over which the bearers walked slowly, with precision. +And then came his first hours on shore. How calmly they had welcomed +him, those white faced, pale men, with the deep circles beneath their +eyes. They looked at him with envy, it seems, as a being newly come +from contact with civilization, and they looked upon him with pity, as +a being who had deliberately chosen to shut himself off from +civilization, for a period of many years. He was taking the place of +one who was going home—and the man was in a desperate hurry to get +away. He looked ill, withal he was so fat, for he was very fat and +flabby, extraordinarily white, with circles beneath his puffy eyes +blacker and more marked than those on the other faces. The departing +official shook hands hurriedly with Mercier, and kissed his old +companions good-bye hurriedly upon both cheeks, and then hastened into +the chair, to get to the rowboat, to get to the steamer as soon as +possible. The other officials on the beach commented volubly on his +good fortune—ah, but he had the chance! What chance! What luck! What +fortune! They themselves <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>had no luck, they must remain here how long, +ah, who knew how long! They all stood there upon the beach watching +the departing one until he reached the steamer, drifting idly at the +length of her anchor chain.</p> + +<p>Then they remembered Mercier again, and surrounded him, not eagerly, +listlessly, and asked him to the office of the Administrator, to have +a cup of champagne. A cup of champagne, at a little after six in the +morning. As they walked slowly up the beach, Mercier spoke of the +beauty of the place, the extraordinary beauty of the island. They +seemed not to heed him. They smiled, and reminded him that he was a +newcomer, and that such was the feeling of all newcomers and that it +would soon pass. And in a body, ten of them, they conducted Mercier to +the bureau of the Administrator, a tired, middle aged men, who shook +hands without cordiality, and ordered a boy to bring a tray with a +bottle and glasses and mouldy biscuits, and they all sat together and +drank without merriment. It was dark in the Administrator's office, +for the surrounding verandah was very wide and deep, and tall bamboos +grew close against the edges of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>railing, and a little way behind +the bamboos grew banana trees and travellers' palms, all reaching high +into the air and making a thick defence against the sunlight. The +stone floor had been freshly sprinkled with water, and the ceiling was +high, made of dark teak wood, and it was very dark inside, and damp +and rather cool. There was a punkah hanging from the ceiling, but it +stood at rest. Its movement had come to make the Administrator +nervous. He was very nervous and restless, turning his head from side +to side in quick, sharp jerks, first over one shoulder and then the +other, and now and then suddenly bending down to glance under the +table. Later on, some one explained to Mercier that the Administrator +had a profound fear of insects, the fierce, crawling, stinging things +that lived outside under the bamboos, and that crept in sometimes +across the stone paved floor, and bit. Only last week, one of the +paroled convicts, working in the settlement, had been bitten by some +venomous evil thing, and had died a few hours later. Such accidents +were common—one must always be on guard. Most people became used to +being on guard, but with the Administrator, the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>thing had become a +nightmare. He had been out too long—his nerves were tortured. It was +the heat, of course—the stifling, enervating heat. Few could stand it +for very long, and the authorities back home must have forgotten to +relieve the old man—he was such a good executive, perhaps they had +forgotten on purpose. The sub-officials were changed from time to +time, but the old man seemed to have been forgotten. He could not +stand it much longer—that was obvious.</p> + +<p>Mercier went thoughtfully to the bungalow assigned to him, installed +his few meagre possessions, and entered without zest upon his work. +Somehow, the keenness had been taken out of him by that hour's +conversation in the darkened bureau of the Chief. The weeks passed +slowly, but Mercier never regained his enthusiasm. The physical +atmosphere took all initiative away. His comrades were listless +beings, always tired, dragging slowly to their daily rounds, and +finishing their work early in the morning before the heat became +intolerable. Then for hours they rested—retired to their bungalows or +that of a comrade, and rested, to escape the intense heat which never +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>varied, winter or summer, although it was a farce to speak of the +seasons as winter or summer, except in memory of home. Mercier soon +fell in with their ways. He drank a great deal, beginning very early +in the morning, and measured time by cigarettes, postponing his +duties, such that claimed him, till he had just finished another +cigarette. They were cheap and bad, but there was a solace in them, +and they whiled away the time. The only joviality about the place came +in the evenings, after many cigarettes, which made him nervous, and +after very many little glasses of brandy, which unfitted him for work +but which were necessary to stimulate him for what work he had to do.</p> + +<p>Near the group of bungalows belonging to the officials and to the +prison guards, stood the prison building itself, a large, rambling, +one storeyed structure, with many windows fitted with iron bars. Here +the newcomers were kept, about eight hundred of them, and nearby, in +an adjacent compound, were quarters for about seven hundred prisoners +out on parole, by reason of good conduct. The confined prisoners did +not work, being merely confined, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>but those out on parole, on good +conduct, and whose terms would soon come to an end, were trusted to +work about the island in various capacities. They made the roads—such +few as there were. The island was so small that many roads were not +required, and since there was no traffic, but little labour was +required to keep the roads in repair. They also worked in the rice +fields, but, again, there were not many rice fields. It was easier to +bring rice from the mainland. There was a herd of water buffaloes, +used for ploughing during the season, and the buffaloes needed some +attention, but not much. So the paroled convicts were employed in +other ways about the island, in cooking for the prisoners, in cleaning +the various buildings, and as servants in the households of the +officials. Only the most trusted, however, were given such posts as +that. Yet it was necessary to trust many of them, and each official +had a large retinue of servants, for there was little settlement work +to be done, and something must be done with the men on parole, since +the prison itself was too small to hold fifteen hundred men under lock +and key at the same time. Moreover, these trusted <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>ones were rather +necessary. In the Tropics, work is always done in a small, +half-hearted way, by reason of the heat which so soon exhausts the +vitality, consequently many people are required to perform the +smallest task.</p> + +<p>Mercier, therefore, was obliged to accept the life as he found it, and +he found it different from the romantic conception which he had formed +at home. And he became very listless and demoralised, and the lack of +interests of all sorts bored him intolerably. He was not one to find +solace in an intellectual life. The bi-monthly call of the supply ship +with its stocks of provisions, the unloading of which he must oversee, +was the sole outside interest he had to look forward to. Old +newspapers and magazines came with the supply ship, and these were +eagerly read, and soon abandoned, and nothing was left but cigarettes +and brandy to sustain him between whiles.</p> + +<p>On a certain morning, when he had been at the settlement for over a +year, he finished his daily report and strolled over to lay it upon +the desk in the office of the Administrator. The supply ship was due +in that day, and he wandered down to the beach to look for her. There +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>she was, just dropping anchor. His heart beat a little faster, and he +hastened his steps. It was cattle day. Bullocks from the mainland, +several hundred miles away, which came once a month for food. He took +his boat and rowed, out to the ship, and then directed the work of +removing the bullocks.</p> + +<p>It was nasty work. The coolies did it badly. The hatch was opened, and +by means of a block and pulley, each bullock was dragged upward by a +rope attached to its horns. Kicking and struggling, they were swung +upwards over the side of the ship and lowered into the lighter below. +Sometimes they were swung out too far and landed straddle on the side +of the lighter, straddling the rail, kicking and roaring. And +sometimes, when the loosely moored lighter drifted away a little from +the ship's side, an animal would be lowered between the ship's side +and the lighter, and squeezed between the two—so crushed that when it +was finally hauled up and lowered safely into the boat, it collapsed +in a heap, with blood flowing from its mouth. The coolies did it all +very badly—they had no system, and as Mercier could not speak to them +in their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>language, he could not direct them properly. Besides, he was +no organiser himself, and probably could not have directed them +properly had he been able to speak to them. All he could do, +therefore, was to look on, and let them do it in their own way. +Sometimes as an animal was being raised, its horns would break, and it +would be lowered with a bleeding head, while the coolies stood by and +grinned, and considered it a joke. Mercier was still sensitive on some +points, and while long ago he had ceased to find any beauty in the +island, he was nevertheless disgusted with needless suffering, with +stupid, ugly acts.</p> + +<p>There were only twenty cattle to be unloaded on this day, but it took +two hours to transfer them to the lighter, and at the end of that time +the tide had fallen so that they must wait for another six or eight +hours, in the broiling sun, until the water was high enough for the +lighter to approach the landing stage, where another block and pulley +was rigged. Which meant that later in the day—possibly in the hottest +part—Mercier would be obliged to come down again to oversee the work, +and to see that it was finished. For the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>cattle must be ashore by +evening—meat was needed for the settlement, and some must be killed +for food that night. Mercier was thoroughly disgusted with his work, +with his whole wasted life. Ah, it was a dog's life! Yet how eagerly +he had tried to obtain this post—how eagerly he had begged for the +chance, pleaded for it, besought the few influential people he knew to +obtain it for him.</p> + +<p>On the way back to his bungalow, he passed along the palm grown road, +on each side of which were the red and white bungalows, residences of +the dozen officials of the island. They were screened by hedges of +high growing bushes, bearing brilliant, exotic flowers which gave out +a heavy, sweet perfume, and the perfume hung in clouds, invisible yet +tangible, pervading the soft, warm air. How he had dreamed of such +perfumes—long ago. Yet how sickening in reality. And how dull they +were, the interiors of these sheltered bungalows, how dull and stupid +the monotonous life that went on inside them—dejected, weary, useless +little rounds of household activity, that went along languorously each +day, and led nowhere. It all led nowhere. Within each house was the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>wearied, stupid wife of some petty official, and sometimes there were +stupid, pallid children as well, tended by convicts on parole. Nowhere +could he turn to find intellectual refreshment. The community offered +nothing—there was no society—just the dull daily greetings, the +dull, commonplace comments on island doings or not doings, for all lay +under the spell of isolation, under the pall of the great, oppressive, +overwhelming heat. How deadly it all was, the monotonous life, the +isolation, the lack of interests and occupation. As he passed along, a +frowzy woman in a Mother Hubbard greeted him from a verandah and asked +him to enter. Years ago she had come out fresh and blooming, and now +she was prematurely aged, fat and stupid—more stupid, perhaps, than +the rest. Yet somehow, because there was nothing else to do, Mercier +pushed open the flimsy bamboo gate, walked up the gravelled path, and +flung himself dejectedly upon a chaise longue which was at hand. And +the woman talked to him, asked him how many cattle had come over that +morning, whether they were yet unloaded, when they would be finally +landed and led to the slaughter pens <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>a little way inland. It was all +so gross, so banal, yet it was all there was of incident in the day, +and most clays were still more barren, with not even these paltry +events to discuss. And he felt that he was sinking to the level of +these people, he who had dreamed of high romance, of the mystery of +the Far Eastern Tropics! And this was what it meant—what it had come +to! A fat woman in a Mother Hubbard asking him how many bullocks had +come in that day, and when they would be ready to kill and eat!</p> + +<p>She clapped together her small, fat hands, and a servant entered, and +she ordered grenadine and soda and liqueurs, and pushed towards him a +box of cheap cigarettes. Where was her charm? Why had he married her, +her husband—who was at the moment in the Administrator's bureau, +compiling useless statistics concerning the petty revenues of the +prison colony? But he was just like her, in his way. All the men were +run to seed, and all their women too. And these were the only women on +the island, these worn, pale, bloated wives who led an idle life in +the blazing heat. Seven such women, all told. He relapsed into +silence, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>and she likewise fell silent, there being nothing more to +get nor give. They were all gone, intellectually. They had no ideas, +nothing to exchange. So he smoked on, lazily, in silence, feeling the +slight stir in his blood caused by the Quinquina. He filled his glass +again, and looked forward to the next wave of relaxation. Overhead, +the punkah swung slowly, stirring the scented air. These were the +scents he had dreamed of, the rich, heavy perfumes of the Tropics. +Only it was all so dull!</p> + +<p>The door opened and a little girl entered the verandah, a child of +perhaps fourteen. A doomed child. He looked at her languidly, and +continued to look at her, thinking vague thoughts. She was beautiful. +Her cotton frock, belted in by some strange arrangement of seashells +woven into a girdle, pressed tightly over her young form, revealing +clearly the outline of a childish figure soon ready to bloom into full +maturity under these hot rays of vertical sunshine. She would develop +soon, even as the native women developed into maturity very early. His +tired glance rested upon her face. That, too, bore promise of great +beauty. The features were fine and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>regular, singularly well formed, +and the eyes those of a gentle cow, unspeculative, unintelligent. She +was very white, with the deathlike whiteness of the Tropics, and under +the childish eyes were deep, black rings, coming early. He noticed her +hands—slender, long, with beautiful fingernails—such hands in Paris! +And again his roving glance fell lower, and rested upon her bare legs, +well formed, well developed, the legs of a young woman. He stirred +lightly in his chair. The feet matched the hands—slender, long feet, +with long, slender toes. She was wearing native sandals, clumsy wooden +sandals, with knobs between the first two toes. Only the knobs were of +silver, instead of the usual buttons of bone, or wood. Some one had +brought them to her from the mainland, evidently. Well, here she was, +a doomed creature, uneducated, growing older, growing into womanhood, +with no outlook ahead. Her only companions her dull, stupid mother, +and the worn-out wives of the officials—all years older than herself. +Or perhaps she depended for companionship upon the children—there +were a dozen such, about the place, between the ages of two and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>six. +And she stood between these two groups, just blooming into womanhood, +with her beautiful young body, and her atrophied young brain. Her eyes +fell shyly under his penetrating, speculative glances, and a wave of +colour rose into her white cheeks. She felt, then, hey? Felt what?</p> + +<p>Mercier leaned forward, with something curious pulsing in his breast. +The sort of feeling that he had long since forgotten, for there was +nothing for such feelings to feed upon, here in his prison. Yet the +sensation, vague as it was, seemed to have been recognised, shared for +an instant by the young creature beside him. It was rather uncanny. He +had heard that idiots or half-witted people were like that. She rose +uneasily, placing upon her long, sprawling curls an old sun hat, very +dirty, the brim misshapen by frequent wettings of pipe-clay. A servant +appeared from behind the far corner of the verandah, an old man, dark +skinned, emaciated, clad in a faded red sarong. He was her personal +servant, told off to attend her. Something must be done for the men on +parole, some occupation given them to test their fitness before +returning them again <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>to society. As she passed from the verandah, +followed by the old black man in his red sarong, Mercier felt a +strange thrill. Where were they going, those two?</p> + +<p>He turned to the inattentive, vacuous mother. "Your daughter," he +began, "is fast growing up. Soon she will be marrying."</p> + +<p>The woman shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"With whom?" she answered. "Who will take her? What dowry can we give +her? We cannot even send her to Singapore to be educated. Who will +take her—ignorant, uneducated—without a <i>dot</i>? Besides," she +continued eagerly, warmed into a burst of confidence, "you have +heard—you have seen—the trouble lies here," and she tapped her +forehead significantly.</p> + +<p>And with a sigh she concluded, "We are all prisoners here, every one +of us—like the rest."</p> + +<p>Mercier rose from the chaise longue, still thinking deeply, still +stirred by the vague emotion that had called forth an answer from the +immature, half-witted child. He had a report to make to the Bureau, +and he must be getting on. Later, when the tide turned, and the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>lighter could come against the jetty, he must attend to the cattle.</p> + +<p>He did not linger in the office of the Administrator, but sent in his +report by a waiting boy, and then strolled inland by the road that led +past the prison, into the interior of the island. On his way he passed +the graveyard. It was a melancholy graveyard, containing a few +slanting shafts erected to the memory of guards and of one or two +officers who had been killed from time to time by prisoners who had +run amok. Such uprisings occurred now and then, but seldom. He entered +the cemetery, and looked about languidly, reading the names on the +stones. Killed, killed, killed. Then he came upon a few who had died +naturally. Or was it natural to have died, at the age of thirty, out +here on the edge of the world? Yet it was most natural, after all. He +himself was nearly ready for the grave, ready because of pure boredom, +through pure inertia, quite ready to succumb to the devitalising +effect of this life. This hideous life on a desert island. This +hideous mockery of life, lived while he was still so young and so +vital, and which was reducing him, not slowly but with great <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>pacing +strides, to an inertia to which he must soon succumb. Why didn't the +prisoners revolt now, he wondered? He would gladly accept such a way +out—gladly offer himself to their knives, or their clubs, or whatever +it was they had. Anything that would put an end to him, and land him +under a stone in this forsaken spot. Surely he was no more alive than +the dead under those stones. No more dead than the dead.</p> + +<p>He passed out of the gate, swinging on a loose hinge, and in deep +meditation walked along the palm bordered road back of the settlement. +Soon the last bungalow was left behind, even though he walked slowly. +Then succeeded the paddy fields, poorly tilled and badly irrigated. +There were enough men on the island to have done it properly—only +what was the use? Who cared—whether they raised their own rice or +brought it from the mainland twice a month? It was not a matter to +bother about. Water buffaloes, grazing by the roadside, raised their +heavy heads and stared at him with unspeakable insolence. They were +for ploughing the rice fields, but who had the heart to oversee the +work? <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>Better leave the men squatting in content by the roadside, +under the straggly banana trees, than urge them to work. It meant more +effort on the part of the officials and effort was so useless. All so +futile and so hopeless. He nodded in recognition of the salutes given +him by groups of paroled prisoners, chewing betel nut under the trees. +Let them be.</p> + +<p>A bend in the road brought him to a halt. Just beyond, lying at full +length upon the parched grass, was the little girl he had seen that +morning. She lay on her back, with bare legs extended, asleep. Nearby, +squatting on his heels and lost in a meditative pipe, sat the Kling, +her body servant. The man rose to his feet respectfully as Mercier +passed, watching his mistress and watching Mercier with a sombre eye. +Mercier passed on slowly, with a long glance at the child. She was not +a child, really. Her cotton dress clung round her closely, and he +gazed fascinated, at the young figure, realising that it was mature. +Mature enough. A thought suddenly rose to his mind, submerging +everything else. He walked on hurriedly, and at a turn of the road, +looked <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>back. The Kling was sitting down again impassively, refilling +his pipe.</p> + +<p>From that time on, Mercier's days were days of torment, and the nights +as well. He struggled violently against this new feeling, this hideous +obsession, and plunged into his work violently, to escape it. But his +work, meagre and insufficient at best, was merely finished the sooner +because of his energy, which left him with more time on his hands. +That was all. Time in which to think and to struggle. No, certainly, +he did not wish to marry. That thought was put aside immediately. +Marry a stupid little child like that, with a brain as fat as her +body! But not as beautiful as her body. Besides, she was too young to +marry, even in the Tropics, where all things mate young. But there she +was, forever coming across his path at every turn. In his long walks +back into the interior, behind the settlement, he came upon her daily, +with her attendant Kling. The Kling always squatting on his heels, +smoking, or else rolling himself a bit of areca nut into a +sirrah-leaf, and dabbing on a bit of pink lime from his worn, silver +box. Mercier tried to talk to the child, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>to disillusion himself by +conversations which showed the paucity of ideas, her retarded +mentality. But he always ended by looking at the beautiful, slim +hands, at the beautiful, slim feet, at the cotton gown slightly +pressed outward by the maturing form within.</p> + +<p>He was angry with himself, furious at the obsession that possessed +him. Once he entered the gravelled path of the child's home, and +seriously discussed with her mother the danger of letting her roam at +large over the island, accompanied only by the old Kling. He explained +vigorously that it was not safe. There were hundreds of paroled +prisoners at large, engaged in the ricefields, on the plantations, +mending the roads—there was not a native woman on the place. He +explained and expostulated volubly, surprised at his own eloquence. +The mother took it calmly. The Kling, she replied, was trustworthy. He +was an old man, very trustworthy and very strong. No harm could come +to her daughter under his protection. And the long rambles abroad were +good for the child. Was she not accustomed to convicts, as servants? +She had a houseful of them, and many years' experience. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>What did he +know of them, a comparative newcomer? For example, she had three +pirates, Malays from the coast of Siam. They were quiet enough now. +And one Cambodian, a murderer, true enough, but gentle enough now. +Three house-boys and a cook. As for the old Kling, he was a marvel—he +had been a thief in his day, but now—well now, he was body-servant +for her daughter and a more faithful soul it would be hard to find. +For seven years she had lived upon the island, surrounded by these +men. She knew them well enough. True, there was the graveyard back of +the prison compound, eloquent, mute testimony of certain lapses from +trustworthiness, but she was not afraid. She had no imagination, and +Mercier, failing to make her sense danger, gave it up. It had been a +great effort. He had been pleading for protection against himself.</p> + +<p>Mercier awoke one morning very early. It was early, but still dark, +for never, in these baleful Tropics, did the dawn precede the sunrise, +and there was no slow, gradual greying and rosying creeping of +daylight, preceding the dawn. It was early and dark, with a damp +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>coolness in the air, and he reached down from his cot for his +slippers, and first clapped them together before placing them upon his +slim feet. Then he arose, stepped out upon his verandah, and thought +awhile. Darkness everywhere, and the noise of the surf beating within +the enclosed crescent of the harbour. Over all, a great heat, tinged +with a damp coolness, a coolness which was sinister. And standing upon +his verandah, came rushing over him the agony of his wasted life. His +prisoner life upon this lonely island in the Southern Seas. Exchanged, +this wasted life, for his romantic dreams, and a salary of a few +hundred francs a year. That day he would write and ask for his +release—send in his resignation—although it would be weeks or months +before he could be relieved. As he stood there in agony, the dawn +broke before him suddenly, as Tropic dawns do break, all of a sudden, +with a rush. Before him rose the high peaks of the binding mountains, +high, impassable, black peaks, towering like a wall of rock. It was +the wall of the world, and he could not scale it. Before him stretched +the curve of the southern sea, in a crescent, but <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>for all its +fluidity, as impassable as the backing wall of rock. Between the two +he was hemmed in, on a narrow strip of land, enclosed between the +mountain wall and the curving reach of sea. He and all his futile +interests lay within that narrow strip of land, between the mountain +wall and the sea—and the strip was very narrow and small.</p> + +<p>He went forth from his bungalow, pulling upon his feet clumsy native +sandals of wood, with a button between the toes. For underfoot lay the +things he dreaded, the heat things, the things bred by this warm +climate enclosed between the high wall of the mountains and the +infitting curve of the sea. He tramped awkwardly along in his loose +fitting sandals, fast at the toe, clapping up and down at the heel. +The one street of the town through which he passed was bordered by the +houses of the officials, all sleeping. They were accustomed to +sleeping. Only he, Mercier, could not sleep. He was not yet accustomed +to being a prisoner. Perhaps—in time——</p> + +<p>He clapped along gently, though to him it seemed very noisily, past +the bungalows of the officials, past the big prison, also <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>sleeping. +Past the Administration buildings, past the weed-grown, unused tennis +courts, out upon the red road leading to the mountains. Turn upon turn +of the red road he passed, and then stopped, halted by a sight. A +sight which for weeks past he had worn in his heart, but which he had +never hoped to see fulfilled. She was there, that child! That child so +young, so voluptuous in her development, so immature in her mentality, +and beside her, a little way away, sat the Kling prisoner who guarded +her. The Kling squatted upon his heels, chewing areca nut, and +spitting long distances before him. The child also squatted upon the +grass by the roadside, very listless. The Kling did not move as +Mercier approached, clapping in his sandals. But the child moved and +cast upon him a luminous, frightened gaze, and then regarded him +fixedly. Therefore Mercier sat down by the child, and noted her. Noted +her with a hungry feeling, taking in every beautiful detail. Her +exquisite little hands, and her exquisite little feet, shod in wooden +sandals, with a button between the toes, such sandals as he was +wearing. He talked to her a little, and she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>answered in half-shy, +frightened tones, but underneath he detected a note of passion—such +as he felt for her. She was fourteen years old, you see, and fully +developed, partly because she was half-witted, and partly because of +these hot temperatures under the Equator.</p> + +<p>Thus it befell that every morning Mercier arose early, clad his feet +in noisy, clapping sandals, and went out for a walk along the red road +underlying the mountain. And every morning, almost by accident, he met +the half-witted child with her faithful Kling attendant. And the +Kling, squatting down upon his heels, chewed areca nut, and spat +widely and indifferently, while Mercier sat down beside the little +girl and wondered how long he could stand it—before his control gave +way. For she was a little animal, you see, and yearned for him in a +sort of fourteen-year-old style, fostered by the intense heat of the +Tropics. But Mercier, not yet very long from home, held back—because +of certain inhibitions. Sometimes he thought he would ask for her in +marriage—which was ridiculous, and showed that life in the Far East, +especially in a prison colony, affects the brain. At other times, he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>thought how very awkward it would be, in such a little, circumscribed +community as that, if he did not ask her in marriage. Suppose she +babbled—as she might well do. There is no accounting for the +feeble-minded. But as the days grew on, madder and wilder he became, +earlier and earlier he arose to meet her, to go forth to find her on +the red road beneath the mountains. There she was always waiting for +him, while the Kling, her attendant, squatted chewing betel nut a +little farther on.</p> + +<br /> +<hr style='width: 15%;' /> +<br /> + +<p>In time, he had enough. He had had quite enough. She was a stupid +fool, half-witted. He grew quite satiated. Also she grew alarmed. Very +much alarmed. But always, in the distance, with his back discreetly +turned, sat her Kling guardian, the paroled prisoner, chewing betel +nut. So his way out was easy. One day, about eleven o'clock in the +morning, clad in very immaculate white clothes, he came to call upon +the child's parents, with a painful duty to perform. He must report +what he had seen. When out taking his constitutional, he had seen +certain things in an isolated spot of the red road, leading up to the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>mountains. These paroled prisoners could not be trusted—he had +intimated as much weeks ago. Therefore he made his report, his painful +report, as compelled by duty. In his pocket was his release—the +acceptance of his resignation. His recall from his post. When the boat +came in next time—that day, in fact—he would go. But he could not +go, with a clear conscience, till he had reported on what he had seen. +The Kling—the old, stupid, trusted Kling—stupid to trust a child +like that with a servant like that——</p> + +<p>So the Kling was hanged next morning, and Mercier sailed away that +afternoon, when the little steamer came in. The little colony on the +island of prisoners went on with its life as usual. Ah, bah! There was +no harm done! She was so very immature! Mercier need not have exacted +the life of the Kling servant, after all. He was supersensitive and +over-scrupulous. Life in a prison colony in the Far East certainly +affects one's judgment.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span><br /> +<a name="CANTERBURY_CHIMES" id="CANTERBURY_CHIMES"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h1>CANTERBURY CHIMES</h1> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span><br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span><br /> + +<h2>VII</h2> + +<h3>CANTERBURY CHIMES<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> +<br /> + +<h4>I</h4> + +<p>The Colonial Bishop lay spread out on his long, rattan chair, idly +contemplating the view of the harbour, as seen from his deep, cool +verandah. As he lay there, pleasant thoughts crossed his mind, swam +across his consciousness in a continuous stream, although, properly +speaking, he was not thinking at all. The thoughts condensed in +patches, were mere agglomerations of feelings and impressions, and +they strung themselves across his mind as beads are strung along a +string. His mental fingers, however, slipped the beads along, and he +derived an impression of each bead as it passed before his half closed +eyes. The first that appeared was a sense of physical well-being. He +liked the climate. This climate of the Far Eastern Tropics, which so +few people could stand, much less enjoy. But he liked it; he liked its +enclosing sense of warmth and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>dampness and heavy scented atmosphere. +Never before had he brought such an appetite to his meals, or so +enjoyed his exercise, or revelled in perspiration after a hard bicycle +ride, and so enjoyed the cool wash and splash in the Java jar +afterwards. The climate suited him admirably. It made one very fit, +physically, and was altogether delightful. From this you will see that +the Bishop was a young man, not over forty-five.</p> + +<p>Then the servants. Good boys he had, well trained, obedient, +anticipative, amusing, picturesque in their Oriental dress. Rather +trying because of their laziness, but not too exasperating to be a +real irritant. So many people found native servants a downright source +of annoyance—even worse than the climate—but for himself, he had +never found them so. They gave him no trouble at all, and he had been +out ten years, so ought to know.</p> + +<p>The native life was charming too, so rich in colour, in all its gay +costumes. Surely the first Futurists must have been the Orientals. No +modern of the most ultra-modern school had ever revelled in such +gorgeous colour combinations, in such daring contrasts and lurid +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>extremes, as did these dark hued people, in their primitive +simplicity. He liked them all, decent and docile. He liked their +earrings—only that day he had counted a row of nine in the ear of +some wandering juggler. Nose rings too—how pretty they were, nose +rings. Rubies too, and most of them real, doubtless. How well they +looked in the nostril of a thin, aquiline brown nose. It all went with +the country. Barbaric, perhaps, contrasted with other standards, but +beautiful—in its way. He would not change it for the world.</p> + +<p>And the perfumes! A faint scent of gardenias was at that moment being +wafted in from his well-kept, rich gardens, where somehow his boys +managed to make flowers grow in the brown, devitalised earth. For the +soil was devitalised, surely. It got no rest, year in, year out. For +centuries it had nourished, in one long, eternal season, the great +rich mass of tropical vegetation. European flowers would not grow in +the red earth, or the black earth, whichever it was—he had been +accustomed to think of red or black earth as being rich, but out here +in the Tropics, it was unable to produce, for more than a brief +season, the flowers <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>and shrubs that were native to his home land. But +gardenias and frangipanni——</p> + +<p>The next bead that slipped along was the memory of an Arab street at +dusk—the merchants sitting at their shop fronts, the gloom of the +little, narrow shops, the glow of rich stuffs and rich colours that +lay in neat piles on the shelves, and the scent of incense burning in +little earthenware braziers at the door of each shop—how sweet was +the warm air, laden with this deeply sweet smell of burning, glowing +incense——</p> + +<p>A step sounded on the verandah, and the Bishop concluded his revery +abruptly. It was not the nearly noiseless step of a bare foot, such as +his servants. It was the step of someone in European shoes, yet +without the firm, decided tramp of a European. Yet the tread of a +European shoe, muffled to the slithering, soft effect of a native +foot. A naked foot, booted. This was the Bishop's hour of rest, and +his servants had instructions to admit no one. Well, no one in a +general sense, yet there were always two or three recognised +exceptions. But it was not one of these exceptions, coming in +noiselessly like that. The Bishop <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>sprang up, standing straddle of his +long chair, and looking fixedly in the direction of the approaching +sound. He hated interruptions, and was indignant to think that any one +should have slipped in, past the eyes of his watchful servants. Just +then a figure appeared at the far end of the verandah, a white clad +figure rapidly advancing. A dark skinned, slim figure, clad in white +linen European clothes, even down to a pair of new, ill fitting, white +canvas shoes with rubber soles. That accounted for the sound +resembling bare feet. Really, they could never wear shoes properly, +these natives, however much they might try.</p> + +<p>Still standing straddle across his chair, the Bishop called out +angrily to the intruder. Since he was not a European, and obviously +not a native Prince—native princes never slithered in like that, all +the pomp of the East heralded their coming—the Bishop could afford to +let his annoyance manifest itself in his voice. Therefore he called +out sharply, asking the stranger's business.</p> + +<p>A slim youth stepped forward, bare headed, hollow chested, very dark +in the gathering <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>twilight, and his hands clasped together as if in +supplication, stood out blackly against the whiteness of his tunic. +The Bishop noticed that they were trembling. Well they might, for he +had taken a great liberty, by this presumptuous, unannounced visit. It +had a sort of sneaking character about it. Coming to steal, perhaps, +and being surprised in the act, had determined to brazen it out under +the pretext of a visit. The young man, however, walked boldly up to +the Bishop's chair, and the Bishop, rather taken aback, sat himself +down again and extended his legs on the rest, in their usual +comfortable position.</p> + +<p>"I've come to see you, Sir," began the stranger, using very good +English though with a marked native accent, "on a question of great +importance. On a matter of principle—of high principle. I've never +seen you before, but you are known to me by reputation."</p> + +<p>The Bishop snorted at this piece of impudence, but the youth went on +unabashed.</p> + +<p>"A very noble reputation, if I may presume to say so. But you know +that, of course. What you are, what you stand for. Therefore I have +dared to come to you for help. It is <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>not a matter of advice—that +does not enter in at all. But I want your great help—on our side. To +right a great, an immense, an immensely growing wrong."</p> + +<p>The youth hesitated and stopped, wringing his dark, thin hands +together in evident agitation. The Bishop surveyed him coldly, with +curiosity, without sympathy, enjoying his embarrassment. So that was +it—some grievance, real or fancied. Fancied, most likely. He felt a +distinct sense of resentment that his hour of repose should have been +broken in upon so rudely by this native—bringing him wrongs to +redress in this uncalled for manner. There were plenty of people in +the Bishop's service expressly appointed for the purpose of looking +into complaints and attending to them. To bring them up to +headquarters, to the Bishop himself, was an act of downright +impertinence. Very much as if a native should bring his petty quarrels +up to the Governor-General. These thoughts passed through the Bishop's +mind as he regarded the intruder with a fixed and most unfriendly eye. +A few moments of hesitating silence followed, while the Bishop watched +the darting movements of a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>lizard on the wall, and waited for the +stranger to continue.</p> + +<p>"I want your help," went on the youth in a low voice. "You are so +powerful—you can do so much. Not as a man, but because of your +office. Perhaps as a man, too, for they say you are a good and just +man. But the combination of a strong man in a high office——"</p> + +<p>Still no help from the Bishop. That he did not clap his hands together +and call for his servants to have this intruder thrown out, marked +him, in his estimation, as the kind of man that the youth had +suggested. A just and liberal man. Very well, he was ready to listen. +Now that he was caught, so to speak, and obliged to listen against his +will.</p> + +<p>"It's about the opium traffic," explained the young man, breathing +hard with excitement, and wringing his thin hands together in +distress.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's it, is it?" exclaimed the Bishop, breaking silence. "I +thought it must be some such thing. I mean, something that is no +concern of mine—nor yours either," he concluded sharply.</p> + +<p>"It is both my concern and your concern," <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>replied the young man +solemnly, "both yours and mine. Your race, your country, is sinning +against my race and my country——"</p> + +<p>"Your country!" interrupted the Bishop disdainfully.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my country!" exclaimed the young man proudly. "Mine still, for +all that you have conquered it, and civilized it and degraded it!"</p> + +<p>The Bishop sprang up from his chair angrily, and then sank back again, +determined to listen. He would let this fellow say all he had to say, +and then have him arrested afterwards. He would let him condemn +himself out of his own mouth. How well they spoke English too, these +educated natives.</p> + +<p>"What is this Colony, Sir," continued the young man gaining control of +himself, "but a market for the opium your Government sells? For you +know, Sir, as well as I, that the sale of opium is a monopoly of your +Government. And we are helpless, defenceless, powerless to protect +ourselves. And do you know what your Government makes out of this +trade, Sir—the revenue it collects from selling opium to my people? +Three quarters of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>revenue of this Colony are derived from opium. +Your Government runs this colony on our degradation. You build your +roads, your forts, your schools, your public buildings, on this vice +that you have forced upon us. Before you came, with your civilization, +we were decent. Very decent, on the whole. Now look at us—what do you +see? How many shops in this town are licensed by your Government for +the sale of opium—and the license money pocketed as revenue? How many +opium divans, where we may smoke, are licensed by your Government, and +the license money pocketed as part of the revenue?"</p> + +<p>"You needn't smoke unless you wish to," remarked the Bishop drily. "We +don't force you to do it. We don't put the pipe between your teeth and +insist upon your drugging yourselves. How many shops do you say there +are—how many smoking places? Several hundred? We don't force you into +them, I take it. You go of your own choice, don't you? We Europeans +don't do it. It's as free for us as it is for you. We have the same +opportunities to kill ourselves—I suppose that's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>how you look at +it—as you do. Yet somehow we abstain. If you can't resist——"</p> + +<p>The Bishop shrugged his shoulders. Yet he rather despised himself for +the argument. It sounded cheap and unworthy, somehow. The youth, +however, did not seem to resent it, and went on sadly.</p> + +<p>"It's true," he said, "we need not, I suppose. Yet you know," he +continued humbly, "we are a very simple people. We are very primitive, +very—lowly. We didn't understand at first, and now it's too late. +We've most of us got the habit, and the rest are getting it. We're +weak and ignorant. We want you to protect us from ourselves. Just as +you protect your own people—at home. You don't import it into your +own country—you don't want to corrupt your own people. But what about +the races you colonise and subject—who can't protect themselves? It's +not fair!" he concluded passionately, "and besides, this year you have +sold us two millions more than last year——"</p> + +<p>"Where did you get your figures?" broke in the Bishop with rising +indignation. This <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>cowering, trembling boy seemed to have all the +arguments on his side.</p> + +<p>"From your own reports, Sir. Government reports. Compiled by your own +officials."</p> + +<p>"And how did <i>you</i> obtain a Government report?" asked the Bishop +angrily. "Spying, eh?"</p> + +<p>The young man ignored the insult, and went on patiently. "Some are +distributed free, others may be bought at the book shops. There is one +lying on your table this moment, Sir."</p> + +<p>"Well enough for me," remarked the Bishop, "but how did you come by +it?" The sharp eyes had recognised the fat, blue volume buried under a +miscellaneous litter of books and pamphlets on a wicker table. A lean +finger pointed towards it, and the accusing voice went on.</p> + +<p>"There is more than opium in that Report, Sir. Look at the schools. +How little schooling do you give us, how little money do you spend for +them. We are almost illiterate—yet you have ruled us for many years. +How little do you spend on schools, so that you may keep us submissive +and ignorant? You know how freely you provide us with opium, so that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>we may be docile and easy to manage—easy to manage and exploit."</p> + +<p>The Bishop sprang up from his chair, making a grasp for the white coat +of his tormentor, but the fellow nimbly avoided him, and darted to the +other side of the table. It was almost completely dark by this time, +and the Bishop could not pursue his guest in the gloom, nor could he +reach the bell.</p> + +<p>"Are you a Seditionist, Sir? How dare you criticise the Government?" +The answer was immediate and unexpected.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I criticise the Government—just as I have been criticising it +to you. But more in sorrow than in anger. Although in time the anger +may come. Therefore that is why I have come to you—for help, before +our anger comes. You are a strong man, a just, a liberal man—so I'm +told. You hold a high position in the Church maintained by your +Government, just as the opium traffic is maintained by your +Government. Both are Government monopolies."</p> + +<p>In the distance the cathedral chimes rang over the still air—the old, +sweet Canterbury chimes, pealing the full round, for it was the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>hour. +Then the hour struck, and both men counted it, mechanically.</p> + +<p>"Your salary, Sir—as well as the salaries of the other priests of +your established church, out here in this Colony—comes from the +established opium trade. Your Canterbury chimes ring out, every +fifteen minutes, over the opium dens of the Crown!"</p> + +<p>At this supreme insult the Bishop leaped at his tormentor, striking a +blow into space. The youth bounded over the low rail of the verandah +and disappeared amongst the shrubbery in the darkness.</p> + +<p>To say that the Bishop was shaken by this interview is to put it +mildly. For he was a good man in his way, and moreover, in a certain +restricted sense, a religious one. But he was lazy and not inclined to +meddle in affairs that did not concern him. And colonial politics and +the management of colonial affairs were certainly not his concern. +Nevertheless, the horrible grouping together of facts, as the young +Seditionist had grouped them for him, their adroit placing together, +with the hideous, unavoidable connection between them, upset him +tremendously. He sat on in the darkness <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>trying to think, trying to +see his way clear, trying to excuse or to justify. He had never +thought of these things before, yet he well knew of their existence. +All sorts of injustices abounded in civilized states—it was perhaps +worse in the colonies. Yet even in the colonies, little by little they +were being weeded out, or adjusted. Yet this particular evil, somehow, +seemed to flourish untouched. Not an effort was made to uproot it. The +only effort made, apparently, was to increase and encourage it. And +with the acquiescence of men like himself. All for what—for money? +For Crown revenues! Pretty poor business, come to think of it. Surely, +if the Colony could not exist by honest and legitimate trade, it might +better not exist at all. To thrive upon the vices of a subject people, +to derive nearly the whole revenue from those vices, really, somehow, +it seemed incompatible with—with—that nasty fling about the Church!</p> + +<p>He rang for his boy, and a lamp was brought in and placed upon the +table beside him, and the Bishop reached over for the unheeded Report, +which had been lying on the table so long. The columns of figures +seemed rather <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>formidable—he hated statistics, but he applied himself +to the Report conscientiously. Yes, there it was in all its simplicity +of crude, bald statements, just as the young man had said. Glaring, +horrible facts, disgraceful facts. For an hour he sat absorbed in +them, noting the yearly increase in consumption as indicated by the +yearly increase in revenue. Three quarters of the revenue from +opium—one quarter from other things. He wondered vaguely about his +salary; that painful allusion to it troubled him. It was just possible +that it came from the one quarter derived from legitimate trade. +Certainly, it was quite possible. But on the other hand, there was an +unquiet suspicion that perhaps it didn't.</p> + +<p>The Bishop moved into the dining room, carrying the fat Blue Book +under his arm, and read it carefully during his solitary meal. Those +carefully compiled tables, somehow, did not do credit to what he had +heretofore been pleased to consider the greatest colonising nation in +the world. Were all colonies like that—run on these principles? Yet +the Government, apparently, had felt no hesitation in setting forth +these facts explicitly. Presumably the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>Government felt justified. Yet +it certainly was not—the word honourable rose to his mind, but he +suppressed it at once—however, nothing else suggested itself. Years +ago, so many years ago that he had lost count, the Bishop had worked +for a time in the East End. He had had clubs and classes, and worked +with the young men. He used to know a good deal about certain things, +and to feel strongly—— But since then he had become prosperous, and +a high dignitary in the Church. Something stirred uneasily in the back +of his mind, as he dawdled over his dinner and turned the pages of the +Blue Book——</p> + +<p>Then he went back to the verandah again, and subsided into his long +chair. He sat in darkness, for he disliked the night-flying insects of +the Tropics, and had a nervous horror of them. Lamps made them +worse—brought them in thicker shoals. He gazed out at the twinkling +lights of the vessels at anchor in the harbour. There were many ships +in the roadway to-night, a sight which would ordinarily have pleased +him, but his thoughts were in sharp contrast now to his comfortable, +contented thoughts of a few hours ago.</p> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span><br /> + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>The Bishop spent rather a wakeful night, that is, until about two in +the morning, at which hour he settled his problem and fell asleep. It +finally resolved itself in his mind as a matter for him to let alone. +He could not better it, and had not the smallest intention of making a +martyr of himself, of resigning his office, or of incurring any of the +other disagreeable experiences which beset the path of the moral +crusader. No, he could do nothing, for at two o'clock, as we have +said, he had arrived at the conclusion that the evil—if such it could +be called, since there was considerable doubt on the subject—had +reached a magnitude which no single individual could deal with. +Whereupon he wisely dismissed the matter from his mind. Not having +gone to sleep till late he was considerably annoyed when his China-boy +arrived at six with his early tea. This sense of irritation still +clung to him when an hour later he sat down on the verandah facing the +harbour and began his breakfast. Even after ten years in the Tropics, +the Bishop still continued to enjoy bacon and eggs <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>with unabated +relish, and these did something, this morning, to mitigate his ill +humour. A fresh papaya, with a dozen seeds left in as flavouring, also +helped. Finally the boy came in and laid letters by his plate. Home +letters, bearing the familiar postmarks, so dear to dwellers in +outlying parts of the world. A small Malay kriss, with a handle of +ivory and silver and a blade of five waves served as letter opener. +The Bishop slit each envelope carefully, and laid the pile back on the +table, to be read slowly, with full enjoyment. One by one he went +through them, smiling a little, or frowning, as it happened. The mail +from Home was early this week—evidently it had come in last evening, +although he had not seen the steamer in the roads. All the better—all +the more of a surprise.</p> + +<p>He stopped suddenly, anxiously, and an open letter in his hand +trembled violently. He finished it hurriedly, went through it a second +time, and again once more before he could acknowledge its meaning.</p> + +<div class="block"><p>"<span class="sc">My dear Brother</span>" [it began, with a formality about +the opening that boded trouble], "I write to you in great +distress, but sure that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>you will respond to the great demand I +am about to make upon you, upon all the kindness which you have +shown us for these many years. Herbert, your namesake, is in +deep trouble—disgrace, I might better say. Never mind the +details. They are sufficiently serious, sufficiently +humiliating. We have managed to cover it up, to conceal what we +can, but for the present at least, or until this blows over, it +is impossible for him to remain at home. It has all come about +so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that there has been no time to +write to you to obtain your consent. But he must leave home at +once, and there is no one to whom we can send him except +yourself. In his present position, feeling the deep dishonour +that he has brought upon himself, upon all of us in fact, we do +not dare to send him forth into the world alone. Therefore, +without delay, we are sending him to you, feeling sure of your +response. Under your guidance and care, with the inestimable +benefits that he will derive through the association with such +a man as yourself, we hope that he will recover his normal +balance. Take him in, do what you can for him for all our +sakes. He has always been devoted to you, although it was a +lad's devotion—you have not seen him for several years, and he +is now twenty. Put him to work, do whatever you think best for +him; we <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>give him entirely into your hands. We turn to you in +this hour of our distress, knowing that you will not fail us.</p> + +<p>"Such is the urgency, that he is going out to you on the boat +that carries this letter. Failing that, he will leave in any +event on the boat of the following week. We regret that there +has not been sufficient time to prepare you. He will be no +expense, being well provided with funds, although in future I +shall make out his remittances in your name. In haste, in +grief, and with all love,</p> + +<p class="right"> +<span style="padding-right: 5%;">"Your affectionate brother,</span><br /><br /> +<span class="sc">"Allan</span>."</p> +<br /> +</div> + +<p>The Bishop sat thunderstruck in his chair, aghast at his predicament. +Here was a pretty situation! A scapegrace nephew, who had done heavens +knew what dishonourable thing—the Bishop thought of a dozen things +all at once, all equally disgraceful and equally probable,—was about +to be quartered upon him, in his peaceful, ordered, carefree life, for +an indefinite period! Really, it was intolerable. What did he, the +Bishop, know of young men and their difficulties? Who was he to guide +the footsteps of an erring one? What practical experience had he in +such matters—it was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>one thing to expound certain niceties of +theological doctrine, which, after all, had little bearing on daily +life—and quite another to become guardian and preceptor to a young +scamp. For he was a scamp, obviously. And of all places in the world, +to send a weak, undisciplined person out to the Colony—this rather +notorious Colony where even those of the highest principles had some +difficulty in holding to the path. It was obvious that the place for +this young man was in his home—in the home of his father and mother, +who while they had doubtless spoiled him, must nevertheless retain a +certain influence. He needed all the kindness and loving care that a +home could give. The Bishop sought refuge in platitudes, for of such +consisted his daily thoughts, running through his brain in certain +well defined, well worn brain paths. Then a wave of indignation passed +over him concerning his brother—the selfishness of turning his son +out, at this time of all times! Of shirking responsibility towards +him, of turning that responsibility over to another! To another whom +he had not even consulted! All his life his brother had had what he +wanted—riches, a beautiful <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>home, an easy life. Yet at the first +breath of trouble he evaded his responsibilities and dumped them upon +another!</p> + +<p>The Bishop worked himself up into a fine fury, seeing his future plans +upset, his easy-going life diverted from its normal, flowing course by +the advent of this scapegrace nephew. His eyes rested once more upon +the letter: "He is going out to you on the boat that carries this +letter." If so, then he must have already landed and would appear at +any moment. For the mailboat must have come in last night, and the +passengers had either been put ashore last evening, or had been put +ashore at sunrise, supposing the boat remained discharging cargo all +night. It was now eight o'clock. The youth should have been here. +Apparently, then, he had failed to catch this boat, and was coming the +following week. But the Bishop was troubled; he must go into town and +make sure. Since he was to be burdened with the rascal for a week (but +only for a week, he would send him packing home by the next boat, he +promised himself) his sense of duty prompted him to act at once. He +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>raised his fine, thin hands and clapped them together smartly.</p> + +<p>"Rickshaw! Quickly!" he ordered the China-boy who appeared in answer +to his summons. A few minutes later he descended the broad steps of +the verandah and entered his neat, black rickshaw, with highly +polished brasses, drawn by two boys in immaculate white livery. The +Bishop kept no carriage—that would have seemed ostentatious—but his +smart, black rickshaw was to be seen all over town, stopping before +houses of high and low degree, but mostly high.</p> + +<p>He reached the quais after a sharp run, passing the godowns filled +with rubber, which gave forth its peculiar, permeating odour upon the +heavy, stagnant air of the harbourside. No, the mailboat had gone on, +had weighed anchor early in the morning, at sunrise, they told him, +and had continued on her way up the coast. No such passenger as he +described had been landed—no one by that name. The Bishop, leaning +upon the worn counter in the dingy shipping office, scrutinised the +passenger list carefully. There was a name there, certainly, that +suggested his nephew's, but with two or <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>three wrong letters. Not +enough for a positive identification, but perhaps done purposely, as a +disguise. Could the youth have deliberately done this? It was +possible. When pressed for a description, the Bishop was most hazy. He +could only say that he was searching for a young man, about twenty. +The agent told him that twenty young men, about twenty, had come +ashore. The Bishop was not quite satisfied, was vaguely uneasy, but +there was nothing to be done. However, when the day passed and no +nephew appeared, he drew a long breath of relief. He was safe for +another week. Had a week before him in which to formulate his plans. +And he would formulate them too, he promised himself, and would put +the responsibility of this irresponsible young creature back upon the +shoulders where it belonged. It was a great temptation not to return +to the shipping office again and engage a berth on the next homeward +bound liner, but on second thought, he determined not to do so. Above +all things he prided himself on being just and liberal. He would give +his nephew a week's trial in the Colony, after which the letter +returning him to his father <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>would bear the air of resigned but +seasoned judgment, rather than the unreasoning impulse of a moment's +irritation. A week's guardianship, and—well, so it should be. Nothing +longer, no greater incursion into his smooth, harmonious existence.</p> + +<p>The week of anticipation passed slowly. After the first shock was +over, after the first sense of imposition had passed away, and he +found himself with a week for consideration, he became more decided +than ever on his course of action. Mentally, he began many letters to +his brother, usually beginning, "I regret exceedingly," from which +beginning he launched out into well balanced, well phrased excuses, of +admirable logic, by means of which he proved the imperative necessity +of finding other anchorage for this stray and apparently very frail +bark. Of necessity these letters were vague, since he did not know +what particular form of frailty he had to contend with. Of one thing, +however, he was sure—the Colony offered opportunities for the +indulgence of every form known to man, with none of those nice +restrictions which are thrown round such opportunities in more +civilized parts of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>globe. He would explain all this at length, as +soon as he knew upon which points to concentrate his argument. But, +take it by and large, there were no safeguards of any sort, and only +the strongest and most upright could walk uprightly amidst such +perils.</p> + +<p>The coming of the next liner was awaited with much anxiety. The Bishop +had gone so far as to confide to a few friends that a young nephew +would arrive with her, for a week's stay—on his way elsewhere. He +remembered the boy, his namesake. Rather a handsome little chap as he +recalled him—perhaps under more auspicious circumstances it might +have been a pleasure to have had a visit from him. But this suddenly +becoming endowed with him for weeks or months—it might be years, +perhaps—quite another matter.</p> + +<p>When the mailboat arrived one afternoon, the Bishop's rickshaw stood +at the jetty, while the Bishop himself, in his immaculate gaiters, +with his sash blowing in the soft wind, stood at the end of the jetty +anxiously regarding the tender making its way inshore. She was crowded +with a miscellaneous throng of passengers, among whom were many young +men, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>all strange, new, expectant young men coming out for the first +time, but among them he saw no face that resembled the one he was +searching for. Which might possibly be, he reflected, since the face, +as he recalled it at the time of their last meeting many years ago, +was very childish and immature. The tender made fast to the steps, and +amidst much luggage, much scrambling of coolies and general disorder, +the passengers came off. The Bishop standing on the steps scrutinised +each one carefully. Not there. Nor was there a second trip to the +liner, since the tender had fetched ashore all who were to disembark +at that port. The Bishop turned away with mingled feelings, part +relief, part indignation. Another week of suspense to be gone through +with, and after that, another week before he could release himself of +his burden. It was all exceedingly trying and unreasonable—the +feeling of irritation against his brother mounted higher—it was +outrageous, keeping him upset this way.</p> + +<p>Then a thought suddenly came into his mind. That name on the passenger +list a week ago, the name slightly different yet curiously +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>alike—could it have been altered slightly on purpose? Ashamed to face +him, ashamed to come to him? Bundled off in disgrace from home, +willy-nilly, and now here,—hiding?</p> + +<p>A wave of sick apprehension came over the Bishop. Agonising fear. He +must see Walker at once. Walker, his old friend, who would know what +to do, what to advise. If only he were in town.</p> + +<p>Walker was in town as it happened, and the Bishop found him at his +hotel, and poured out to him all his wretched anxieties, the whole +miserable business, not sparing himself in describing his attitude of +unwelcome and unwillingness to receive the boy, and concluding with +his sick fears concerning his safety. Walker listened gravely and +attentively, and was troubled. It was very possible indeed—more than +possible. A search must be begun at once. Fortunately, in that small +community, it was not easy for a foreigner to disappear, and a +stranger could not go inland, into the interior, undetected. +Therefore, if he was here at all, he would soon be found—somewhere. +He would set in motion the machinery immediately. First the hotels; +that was easy. Then <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>the other places. It would doubtless be necessary +to call in the police.</p> + +<p>The Bishop begged for secrecy—no publicity. Walker promised. That, +too, would be easy. Leave it to him. The Bishop might rest easy on +that score—no publicity. Walker would do everything himself, as far +as possible. Only, he might have to send for the Bishop, if it became +necessary, to identify——</p> + +<p>Two nights later, the Bishop was reclining on the long chair on his +verandah, while overhead the heavy punkah fans swayed to and fro, +stirring the moist, warm air. Out in the harbour the lights gleamed +fitfully, the lanterns on the bobbing sampans contrasting with the +steadier beams of the big ships anchored in the roadway. The ships of +the Orient, congregated from the Seven Seas, full of the mystery and +romance of the East. He had left it to Walker—as he had been told. In +the darkness, with one hand clasped behind his head and the other +holding a glowing cigar, he contemplated the scene, his favourite hour +of the day. Each moment another and another light flitted across the +heavy blackness, showing red or green, while the lights on the moving +sampans darted <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>back and forth in the darkness, restless and alert. He +had left it to Walker. He had stopped thinking of his impending nephew +for a few moments, and his mind had relaxed, as the mind relaxes when +an evil has been postponed from time to time, and normal feeling +reasserts itself after the reprieve. There was a quiet footfall on the +verandah, and the Bishop was aroused from his meditations. His Chinese +servant approached deferentially. "Man want see Master," he explained +laconically, with the imperturbability of the East.</p> + +<p>"What like man?" enquired the Bishop, in pidgin English. "China man," +came the response. "Must see Master. All belong velly important."</p> + +<p>A quick foreboding possessed the Bishop, even in this hour of his +tranquillity.</p> + +<p>"Show him here," he replied, after a second's consideration. A tall +figure appeared before him, bowing. A lean, very dirty Chinese, who +bowed repeatedly. In spite of the Oriental repression of feeling, it +was plain that he was troubled. He extended a lean, claw-like hand, +with a long and very dirty nail on the little finger, and offered a +soiled letter to the Bishop.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>"Velly important. All belong much tlouble," he explained, and tucked +his hands well inside his long blue sleeves, and stood by impassively, +while the Bishop received the letter, crumpled and soiled, as if +carried for a long time in a pocket. He turned it over and found it +addressed to himself. There was no stamp. The handwriting was +Walker's. The Bishop started erect in his long chair, and then sprang +up, straddling it as usual.</p> + +<p>"Where get this?" he asked excitedly. The impassive Chinese bowed once +more.</p> + +<p>"Say come quick. Letter velly important. Letter belong you. No police. +My savee you want letter now." He backed away, still bowing. With a +sweep of his arm he indicated the dark night outside.</p> + +<p>"You come quick," he repeated, "or call police." By the light of a +lamp which his obsequious but curious Chinese servant carried in, the +Bishop tore open Walker's letter, read it, then crushed it hurriedly +into his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Come quick," reiterated the unknown Chinese, "I got lickshaw." The +Bishop strode forward across the verandah, snatching at his hat as he +went, and then hastened across the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>lawn with hurried steps, followed +by the Chinese pacing rapidly behind him. Two rickshaws were waiting +under the street lamp, two shabby rickshaws. Yet somehow, the Bishop +did not care for his own private conveyance at this moment, did not +wish the sharp, inquisitive eyes of his runners to follow him just +then. He mounted hastily, and the coolies started off with a will, the +Chinese leading the way. Even in that moment of anxiety, the Bishop +was aware that the Chinese was leading the way, was conscious that the +place of honour was not his—for the first time in his life, his +vehicle followed, second place, a rickshaw that carried a Chinese.</p> + +<p>The distance seemed interminable. Fortunately, at that hour few of his +acquaintances were abroad, but in the anxiety which possessed him, he +scarcely realised it. He was conscious of passing through crowded +streets, the quarter of the Mohammedans, where incense pots were +alight, scenting the warm air. Then the vile-smelling bazaar, crowded +with buyers, bargaining and shouting under the swaying torches. Then +they passed the European section of the town, where the streets <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>were +wide, clean and deserted. They must be going back of the quais now, +for the air was heavy with the acrid scent of rubber. Then they turned +into a narrow, wildly tumultuous street full of Chinese, scattered all +over the road and sidewalk, shouting, calling, beating drums, yelling +wares for sale, the babel of the Chinese quarter, only such as the +Bishop had never seen it. The rickshaws turned many times, up narrow +lanes and alleys, across wider thoroughfares, and finally halted +before a dingy house of many storeys, a foreign-style house, converted +to native uses. They stopped before a red painted door, a double door, +in two halves, like a saloon door. Over the entrance hung a sign, +black and white, in large, sprawling Chinese characters. +Subconsciously, he was aware that he had passed such signs, in such +characters, many times before. A curious and large crowd gathered +before the house parted at their approach, and the filthy Chinese led +the way, followed by the Bishop in his immaculate garb. As they passed +in and the swing doors closed behind them, a throng of yellow faces +peered down and looked under the door, which was hung high. And all +the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>while, the low, insistent shuffling noises of the crowd outside +penetrated into the dark, dimly lit room in which the Bishop and his +companion found themselves.</p> + +<p>Around three sides of this room, which was narrow, ran a wide bench +covered with dirty matting. Lying at intervals in pairs all along the +bench, were two coolies in a little pen, with a lamp between them, +separated by a narrow ridge from the pen adjoining, which held two +more ragged smokers. The Bishop beheld rows of them, haggard, pallid +rows. A horn lantern was suspended from the ceiling, and the air was +unstirred by punkah, the heavy, foul air reeking with the sickening, +pungent fumes of opium. As he passed, the smokers raised themselves on +their elbows and gazed at him with glazed, dull eyes. The sight of a +Bishop in a low class opium den was unusual, and the dimmed brains of +the smokers dimly recognised the distraction. Then, as he moved on, +they sank down again upon their wooden pillows, and with slow, +infinite pains, set themselves to roll their bits of opium, to cook it +over the dim lamps that dotted the murky <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>atmosphere with glints of +light, and to resume their occupations.</p> + +<p>At the back of the room, the proprietor paused before a part of the +bench where the pen was occupied by one smoker only, a foreigner. The +foreigner lay stretched out in an awkward attitude, knees drawn up, +his head sliding off the wooden block, most uncomfortable. A candle +was thrust into the Bishop's unsteady hand.</p> + +<p>"Looksee," whispered a voice. The Bishop looked. "All lite?" +questioned the anxious voice of the proprietor, "Die lil' while ago. +No can smoke like China boys. No can do."</p> + +<p>The Bishop continued to look at the beautiful, disdainful head of the +young foreigner, sliding limply off its wooden pillow.</p> + +<p>"All lite?" continued the whining voice insistently. "My got money. +Have got watch. No steal." A skinny hand with filthy fingernails crept +forth and thrust itself into the pockets of the limp waistcoat, +crumpled so pitifully upon the thin, young figure, and presently a +gold watch was drawn forth. The watch was slowly waved before the +Bishop's eyes, and the case snapped open, so that he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>could read the +name engraved within. After which the Bishop continued to gaze fixedly +upon the dead youth, lying disgraced upon a bench in one of the lowest +opium dives in the Colony.</p> + +<p>"Smoke here week," went on the insistent voice of the proprietor, "all +time smoke. No go out. No eat. Smoke all same China-boy. No same +China-boy. No can do."</p> + +<p>There was a slight movement at the back of the room, and an object was +passed from hand to hand and finally held for inspection under the +Bishop's nose. In a grimy frame, protected by a square of fly-brown +glass, was a square, official-looking bit of paper. Of value +evidently, since much care had been taken to preserve it.</p> + +<p>"License," went on the explanatory voice. "Gov'ment license. All samee +Gov'ment license. Pay heap money. No can help if man die. Plenty +China-boy die too. This velly lespectable place."</p> + +<p>The Bishop recalled himself as from a dream. During the few moments he +had spent looking down upon the huddled figure, he seemed to have +grown older, to have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>shrunken down, to have lost something of his +fine, arrogant hearing and conscious superiority.</p> + +<p>"All lite?" whined the voice insistently. "All lite?" "Yes," said the +Bishop shortly, "it's all right." He strode rapidly through the foul +room, through the heavy, tainted, pungent air. Outside, the dense +crowd pressed closely about the swinging doors scattered widely as he +approached. Two policemen were coming down the street, attracted by +the excitement of the crowd. The Bishop got into a rickshaw and drove +homewards. A heavy weight seemed to have been lifted from his mind. +Through the oppressive, hot night air the Canterbury chimes pealed +their mellow notes.</p> + +<p>"Thank God," said the Bishop fervently, "it was not <i>my</i> nephew."</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="UNDER_A_WINEGLASS" id="UNDER_A_WINEGLASS"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h1>UNDER A WINEGLASS</h1> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span><br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span><br /> + +<h2>VIII</h2> + +<h3>UNDER A WINEGLASS<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> +<br /> + +<p>A little coasting steamer dropped anchor at dawn at the mouth of +Chanta-Boun creek, and through the long, hot hours she lay there, +gently stirring with the sluggish tide, waiting for the passage-junk +to come down from Chanta-Boun town, twelve miles further up the river. +It was stifling hot on the steamer, and from side to side, whichever +side one walked to, came no breeze at all. Only the warm, enveloping, +moist heat closed down, stifling. Very quiet it was, with no noises or +voices from the after deck, where under the awning lay the languid +deck passengers, sleeping on their bedding rolls. Very quiet it was +ashore, so still and quiet that one could hear the bubbling, sucking +noises of the large land-crabs, pattering over the black, oozy mud, or +the sound of a lean pig scratching himself against the piles of a +native hut, the clustered <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>huts, mounted on stilts, of the village at +the mouth of the creek.</p> + +<p>The Captain came down from the narrow bridge into the narrow saloon. +He was clad in yellow pajamas, his bare feet in native sandals, and +held a well pipeclayed topee in one hand. Impatient he was at the +delay of the passage-junk coming down from up-river, with her possible +trifling cargo, and possible trifling deck-passengers, of which the +little steamer already carried enough.</p> + +<p>"This long wait—it is very annoying," he commented, sitting upon the +worn leather cushions of the saloon bench. "And I had wished for time +enough to stop to see the lonely man. I have made good time on this +trip—all things considered. With time to spare, to make that call, +out of our way. And now the good hours go by, while we wait here, +uselessly."</p> + +<p>"The lonely man?" asked the passenger, who was not a deck-passenger. +He was the only saloon passenger, and because of that, he slept first +in one, then in the other of the two small cabins, alternating +according to which side the wind blew from.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>"You would not mind, perhaps," continued the Captain, "if, after +all—in spite of this long delay—we still found time for the lonely +man? An unscheduled call, much out of our way—oh, a day's sail from +here, and we, as you know, go slowly——"</p> + +<p>"Three days from now—four days from now—it matters little to me when +we reach Bangkok," said the passenger largely, "but tell me of this +man."</p> + +<p>Upon the sideboard, under an inverted wineglass, sat a small gilt +Buddha, placed there by the China-boys. The Captain fixed his eyes +upon the Buddha.</p> + +<p>"Like that. Immovable and covered in close, sitting still in a small +space. Covered in. Some one turned a wineglass over on him, long ago, +and now he sits, still and immovable like that. It makes my heart +ache."</p> + +<p>"Tell me. While we are waiting."</p> + +<p>"Three years ago," began the Captain dreamily, still looking at the +tiny gilt Buddha in its inverted wineglass, "he came aboard. Bound for +nowhere in particular—to Bangkok, perhaps, since we were going that +way. Or to any other port he fancied along the coast, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>since we were +stopping all along the coast. He wanted to lose himself, he said. And, +as you have seen, we stop at many remote, lonely villages, such as +this one. And we have seen many lonely men, foreigners, isolated in +villages such as this one, unknown, removed, forgotten. But none of +them suited him. He had been looking for the proper spot for many +years. Wandering up and down the coast, in cargo-boats, in little +coasting vessels, in sailing vessels, sometimes in native junks, +stopping here and there, looking for a place where he could go off and +live by himself. He wanted to be quite, absolutely, to himself. He +said he should know the place immediately, if he saw it—recognise it +at once. He said he could find himself if he could get quite +absolutely away. Find himself, that is, recover himself—something, a +part of him which he had lost. Just temporarily lost. He was very +wistful and very eager, and said I must not think him a fool, or +demented. He said he only wanted to be by himself, in the right spot, +to accomplish his purpose. He would accomplish his purpose and then +return.</p> + +<p>"Can you see him, the lonely man, obsessed, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>going up and down the +China Coast, shipping at distant ports, one after another, on +fruitless quests, looking for a place to disembark. The proper place +to disembark, the place which he should recognise, should know for his +own place, which would answer the longing in him which had sent him +searching round the world, over the Seven Seas of the world. The spot +in which he could find himself again and regain what he had lost.</p> + +<p>"There are many islands hereabouts," went on the Captain. "Hundreds. +Desert. He thought one would suit him. So I put him down on one, going +out of my way to find it for him. He leaned over the rail of the +bridge, and said to me 'We are getting nearer.' Then he said that he +saw it. So I stopped the ship and put him down. He was very grateful. +He said he liked to be in the Gulf of Siam. That the name had a +picturesque sound, the Pirate Islands. He would live all by himself on +one of the Pirate Islands, in the Gulf of Siam. Isolated and remote, +but over one way was the coast of Indo-China, and over the other way +was the coast of Malay. Neighbourly, but not too near. He should +always <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>feel that he could get away when he was ready, what with so +much traffic through the Gulf, and the native boats now and then. He +was mistaken about the traffic, but I did not tell him so. I knew +where he was and could watch him. I placed a cross on the chart, on +his island, so that I might know where I had left him. And I promised +myself to call upon him, from time to time—to see when he should be +ready to face the world again."</p> + +<p>The Captain spread a chart upon the table.</p> + +<p>"Six degrees north latitude," he remarked, "Ten thousand miles +from——"</p> + +<p>"Greenwich," supplied the passenger, anxious to show that he knew.</p> + +<p>"From Her," corrected the Captain.</p> + +<p>"He told me about her a little. I added the rest, from what he +omitted. It all happened quite a long time ago, which was the bother +of it. And because it had taken place so long ago, and had endured for +so long a time, it made it more difficult for him to recover himself +again. Do you think people ever recover themselves again? When the +precious thing in them, the spirit of them has been overlaid <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>and +overlaid, covered deep with artificial layers——?</p> + +<p>"The marvel was that he wanted to regain it—wanted to break through. +Most don't. The other thing is so easy. Money—of course. She had it, +and he loved her. He had none, and she loved him. She had had money +always, had lived with it, lived on it, it got into her very bones. +And he had not two shillings to rub together, but he possessed the +gift—genius. But they met somewhere, and fell in love with each +other, and that ended him. She took him, you see, and gave him all she +had. It was marvellous to do it, for she loved him so. Took him from +his four shilling attic into luxury. Out of his shabby, poor, worn +clothes into the best there were. From a penny 'bus into superb +motors. With all the rest of it to match. And he accepted it all +because he loved her, and it was the easiest way. Besides, just before +she had come into his life, he had written—well, whatever it +was—however, they all praised him, the critics and reviewers, and +called him the coming man, and he was very happy about it, and she +seemed to come into his life right at the top of his happiness over +his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>work. And sapped it. Didn't mean to, but did. Cut his genius down +at the root. Said his beginning fame was quite enough—quite enough +for her, for her friends, for the society into which she took him. +They all praised him without understanding how great he was, or +considering his future. They took him at her valuation, which was +great enough. But she thought he had achieved the summit. Did not +know, you see, that there was anything more.</p> + +<p>"He was so sure of himself, too, during those first few years. Young +and confident, conscious of his power. Drifting would not matter for a +while. He could afford to drift. His genius would ripen, he told +himself, and time was on his side. So he drifted, very happy and +content, ripening. And being overlaid all the time, deeper and +thicker, with this intangible, transparent, strong wall, hemming him +in, shutting in the gold, just like that little joss there under the +wineglass.</p> + +<p>"She lavished on him everything, without measure. But she had no +knowledge of him, really. Just another toy he was, the best of all, in +her luxurious equipment. So he travelled the world with her, and dined +at the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>Embassies of the world, East and West, in all the capitals of +Europe and of Asia. Getting restive finally, however, as the years +wore on. Feeling the wineglass, as it were, although he could not see +it. Looking through its clear transparency, but feeling pressed, +somehow, conscious of the closeness. But he continued to sit still, +not much wishing to move, to stretch himself.</p> + +<p>"Then sounds from the other side began to filter in, echoing largely +in his restricted space, making within it reverberations that carried +vague uneasiness, producing restlessness. He shifted himself within +his space, and grew conscious of limitations. From without came the +voices, insistent, asking what he was doing now? Meaning, what thing +was he writing now, for a long time had passed since he had written +that which called forth the praise of men. There came to him, within +his wineglass, these demands from the outside. Therefore he grew very +uneasy, and tried to rise, and just then it was that he began to feel +how close the crystal walls surrounded him. He even wanted to break +them, but a pang at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>heart told him that was ingratitude. For he loved +her, you see. Never forget that.</p> + +<p>"Now you see how it all came about. He was conscious of himself, of +his power. And while for the first years he had drifted, he was always +conscious of his power. Knew that he had but to rise, to assume +gigantic stature. And then, just because he was very stiff, and the +pain of stiffness and stretching made him uncouth, he grew angry. He +resented his captivity, chafed at his being limited like that, did not +understand how it had come about. It had come about through love. +Through sheer, sheltering love. The equivalent of his for her. She had +placed a crystal cup above him, to keep him safe. And he had sat safe +beneath it all these years, fearing to stir, because she liked him so.</p> + +<p>"It came to a choice at last. His life of happiness with her—or his +work. Poor fool, to have made the choice at that late day. So he broke +his wineglass, and his heart and her heart too, and came away. And +then he found that he could not work, after all. Years of sitting +still had done it.</p> + +<p>"At first he tried to recover himself by going <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>over again the paths +of his youth. A garret in London, a studio off Montparnasse, shabby, +hungry—all no use. He was done for. Futile. Done himself in for no +purpose, for he had lost her too. For you see he planned, when he left +her, to come back shortly, crowned anew. To come back in triumph, for +she was all his life. Nothing else mattered. He just wanted to lay +something at her feet, in exchange for all she had given him. Said he +would. So they parted, heart-broken, crushed, neither one +understanding. But he promised to come back, with his laurels.</p> + +<p>"That parting was long ago. He could not regain himself. After his +failure along the paths of his youth, his garrets and studios, he +tried to recover his genius by visiting again all the parts of the +world he had visited with her. Only this time, humbly. Standing on the +outside of palaces and Embassies, recollecting the times when he had +been a guest within. Rubbing shoulders with the crowd outside, shabby, +poor, a derelict. Seeking always to recover that lost thing.</p> + +<p>"And getting so impatient to rejoin her. Longing for her always. +Coming to see that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>she meant more to him than all the world beside. +Eating his heart out, craving her. Longing to return, to reseat +himself under his bell. Only now he was no longer gilded. He must gild +himself anew, bright, just as she had found him. Then he could go +back.</p> + +<p>"But it could not be done. He could not work. Somewhere in the world, +he told me, was a spot where he could work. Where there were no +memories. Somewhere in the Seven Seas lay the place. He should know it +when he saw it. After so many years' exclusion, he was certain he +should feel the atmosphere of the place where he could work. And there +he would stay till he finished, till he produced the big thing that +was in him. Thus, regilded, he would return to her again. One more +effort, once more to feel his power, once more to hear the stimulating +rush of praise,—then he would give it up again, quite content to sit +beneath his wine-glass till the end. But this first.</p> + +<p>"So I put him down where I have told you, on a lonely island. Somewhat +north of the Equator, ten thousand miles away from Her. Wistfully, he +said it was quite the right spot. He could feel it. So we helped him, +the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>China-boys and I, to build a little hut, up on stilts, thatched +with palm leaves. Very desolate it is. On all sides the burnished +ocean, hot and breathless. And the warm, moist heat, close around, +still and stifling. Like a blanket, dense, enveloping. But he said it +was the spot. I don't know. He has been there now three years. He said +he could do it there—if ever. From time to time I stop there, if the +passengers are willing for a day or two's delay. He looks very old +now, and very thin, but he always says it's all right. Soon, very soon +now, the manuscript will be ready. Next time I stop, perhaps. Once I +came upon him sobbing. Landing early in the morning, slipped ashore +and found him sobbing. Head in arms and shoulders shaking. It was +early in the morning and I think he'd sobbed all night. Somehow, I +think it was not for the gift he'd lost—but for Her.</p> + +<p>"But he says over and over again that it is the right spot—the very +right place in the world for such as he. Told me that I must not mind, +seeing him so lonely, so apparently depressed. That it was nothing. +Just the Tropics, and being so far away, and perhaps <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>thinking a +little too much of things that did not concern his work. But the work +would surely come on. Moods came on him from time to time, which he +recognised were quite the right moods in which to work, in which to +produce great things. His genius was surely ripe now—he must just +concentrate. Some day, very shortly, there would be a great rush, he +should feel himself charged again with the old, fine fire. He would +produce the great work of his life. He felt it coming on—it would be +finished next time I called.</p> + +<p>"This is the next time. Shall we go?" asked the Captain.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, within a day or two, the small coastwise steamer dropped +her anchor in a shallow bay, off a desert island marked with a cross +on the Captain's chart, and unmarked upon all other charts of the same +waters. All around lay the tranquil spaces of a desolate ocean, and on +the island the thatched roof of a solitary hut showed among the palms. +The Captain went ashore by himself, and presently, after a little +lapse of time, he returned.</p> + +<p>"It is finished," he announced briefly, "the great work is finished. I +think it must have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>been completed several weeks ago. He must have +died several weeks ago. Possibly soon after my last call."</p> + +<p>He held out a sheet of paper on which was written one word, +"Beloved."</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span><br /> +<a name="CHOLERA" id="CHOLERA"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h1>CHOLERA</h1> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span><br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span><br /> + +<h2>IX</h2> + +<h3>CHOLERA<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> +<br /> + +<p>There is cholera in the land, and there is fear of cholera in the +land. Both are bad, though they are different. Those who get cholera +have no fear of it. They are simple people and uneducated, fishermen +and farmers, and little tradesmen, and workers of many kinds. Those +who have fear of cholera have more intelligence, and know what it +means. They have education, and their lives are bigger lives—more +imposing, as it were, and they would safeguard them. Those who are +afraid are the foreigners and the officials, yes, even the Emperor +himself. Is he afraid, the Emperor? One can but guess. He has spent +many weeks of this hot summer, when cholera was ravaging his country, +in his summer palace at Nikko. There he was safe. And cholera spread +itself throughout the land, in the seaports, in the capital, across +the rice-fields to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>the inland villages, taking its toll here and +there, of little petty lives. But dangerous to the Emperor, these +lives, afflicted or cut short, whichever happens. So he is staying +safe at Nikko, in seclusion, waiting for the cool of Autumn to come +and purge his land.</p> + +<p>Once he was to come back to Tokyo, to his capital. For September waned +and he was due there, the Son of Heaven, due in his capital. Many of +his subjects came to the station at Nikko on the day appointed for his +departure, stepping with short steps in their high clogs, tinkling on +the roadside in their clogs, scratching in their sandals. They came in +crowds to the station, at the hour when he was due to enter the royal +train. But when the time came for his departure, he did not go. He +would tarry awhile longer at Nikko. So the crowds were disappointed +and did not understand. Rumour had it that cholera had developed in +the royal household itself—the Purveyor to the Palace, so it was +stated, had contracted the disease. A fish dealer, bringing fish to +the palace, had brought cholera with him. So the Emperor tarries at +Nikko, and the highroad, behind the Imperial Palace in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>Tokyo is +closed to the public, lest any poor coolie, strolling by, should +become ill and bring this dread thing near to the precincts of the Son +of Heaven.</p> + +<p>The foreigners are very careful as to what they eat. They avoid the +fruits, the ripe, rich Autumn figs, and the purple grapes, and the +hard, round, woody pears, and the sweet butter and many other things. +Oh, these days the rich foreigners are very careful of themselves, and +meal times are not as pleasant as they used to be. They discuss their +food, and wonder about it. And because there is cholera, rife in the +ports, and among the fishermen and sailors, the authorities have +closed the fish market of Tokyo. The great Nihom-Bashi market, down by +the bridge, the vile, evil smelling fish market, lying along the +sluggish canal, is closed. The canal is full of straw thatched boats. +It all smells very nasty in that quarter, it smells like cholera. No +wonder there is cholera, with that smell. No wonder the great market +is closed. So the baskets of bamboo are empty, turned upside down, for +there is no fish in them. The people, bare-legged, nearly naked, stand +idly about the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>empty fish market, and talk together of this fear +which is abroad, which has ruined their trade. What is this fear? They +cannot understand. They do not know it. Only the Emperor cannot eat +fish now, for some reason, and their business is ruined because of his +caprice.</p> + +<p>It is very hot. All summer has this great heat continued, and it makes +one nervous. Day after day it lasts, unbroken, always the same, +unavoidable. There is no escape from the stifling dampness of it—one +cannot breathe. Over all the land it is like this, this heavy, sultry +heat. It is no cooler when it rains, no dryer when the hot sun shines. +It is enveloping, engulfing. In the big hotel, the leather shoes of +the foreigners become mouldy overnight, and the sweat runs in streams +from the brown bodies of the rickshaw boys. The rickshaw boys of the +big hotel wear clothes, long legged, tight cotton trousers, and +flapping white coats. This is to save the feelings of the foreigners +and the missionaries, who believe that clothing should always be worn, +even in hot weather. So as the rickshaw boy runs along, one can see +his white coat grow damp <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span>between the shoulder blades, then wet all +across the back, till it is all wet and sticks to him tight. Yet it is +more modest to wear clothes, when doing the work of a horse. One does +not object to a man doing the work of a horse, provided he dress like +a man. But the coolies toiling at the log carts, and the little +tradesmen in their shops, wear few clothes, because they are +independent of the foreigners. Therefore they seem to suffer less with +the heat, or to suffer less obviously. Ah, but the heat is intense, +overwhelming! Day after day, one cannot breathe. And in it, cholera +goes on.</p> + +<p>They say a typhoon is coming. Word has come from Formosa that a +typhoon is rushing up from the southern seas, from Hong Kong, the +Equator, wherever it is they come from. It will reach us to-night. +That will be better. The heat will go then, blown from the land by the +gigantic blast of the typhoon, zig-zagging up the coast from Formosa. +Well, it is late September—this unnatural heat,—why will it not +leave? Why must it linger till torn like a blanket from the sweating +earth, by this hurricane from the Southern seas?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>Only it did not come—the typhoon. They said it would, but it failed. +Has it gone shooting off into the Pacific, futile? So the damp, +stifling heat lingers, and the toll of cholera rolls slowly upward day +by day.</p> + +<p>It is a long way from Nikko to Tokyo by motor. A hundred miles, when +one can cross the bridge, but the bridge is washed away now, so a +detour of many more miles is necessary, to ferry the motor across the +Tonegawa on a flat bottomed, frail boat. The motor sinks nearly to the +hubs in the blazing, glaring sands of the dry river bed, and many +naked coolies are needed to push and pull it through the hot sands, +and work it into the boat. In the glaring sun of noon, the broad river +lies motionless, like a sheet of glowing steel. Children bathe in the +river, and the sweating coolies dip their brown bodies in it, and the +sun beats down pitiless. A junk gets loose from its moorings, and +drifts down stream, stern first, on the slow current. Who cares? No +one. It will beach itself presently, on a mud flat, and can be +recovered towards evening. The great heat lies over all the land, and +cholera is in the slowly flowing water, and the fishermen and the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>coolies and the children live and work and play by the river bank, and +they have no fear of it, because they are ignorant.</p> + +<p>From Nikko to the capital, the road runs through village after +village, endlessly, mile after mile. On each side of the village +street are straw thatched houses, and along the roads coolies bend +under great loads, carried on poles across their shoulders. Black +bulls drag giant loads on two wheeled carts, their masters straining +beside them. The bulls' mouths are open, their tongues hang out, and +saliva drools out in streams. It leaves a wet, irregular wake, in the +dust of the roadside, behind the carts. By and by, the men will stop +for food and drink. They cannot choose what it shall be. They cannot +afford to choose. But the food of the Emperor is carefully selected. +Physicians examine those who handle it, who bring it to the Palace, to +see that they are in good health. They examine the food, disinfect it, +see to its cooking. News of this is in the papers each day, not to +show that the Emperor is afraid, but to set an example to his +subjects.</p> + +<p>In the houses along the roadside, little <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>tradesmen are at work, all +naked in the heat. Or else they are bathing. For all along the high +road from Nikko to the capital, following its every bend and turning, +runs a ditch or channel filled with water. Sometimes the water is +clean and rushing, sometimes foul and stagnant and evil smelling. And +all the way along the high road people are bathing in this ditch or +channel, in the foul or running water, as it happens. They stand +naked, knee deep, men and children, while the women wash and bathe +also, but more modestly. Also, besides their bodies, they wash much +else in this long ditch,—clothes, pots, what-not. Very dirty seems +this channel, sewer, bath tub, as you please. And cholera is abroad in +the land.</p> + +<p>At the entrance to the temples sits the image of Binzuru. Long ago, +when history was new and the gods were young, Binzuru, one of the +sixteen great disciples, broke his vow of chastity by remarking on the +beauty of a woman. So he was put outside the temples. His image no +longer rests upon the altars, with those of the calm, serene ones. +He's disgraced, expelled, no longer fit to sit upon the altars, with +the cold, serene ones, in their colossal calm. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>He's so human now, +outside the temples. Sitting on a chair for human beings to touch him, +now he's off the altar, he's in contact with humanity. The devout ones +rub his wooden image—there is no bronze or gold in poor Binzuru's +makeup. So the people rub his wooden image, rub his ears, his head, +his forehead, rub his arms, his legs, his shoulders. How they suffer, +human beings! How their bodies ache and suffer, judged by poor +Binzuru's body! For if you rub Binzuru on the part which hurts you in +your body, and then rub your body with a hand fresh from Binzuru, you +will be cured. Your pain will go. That's true. Binzuru is polished +smooth and shining, quite deformed with rubbing—his poor head's a +nubbin! And in gratitude for what he's done for people, he sits now on +a pile of cushions, one for each new cure. Bibs and caps adorn him +too, votive offerings from the faithful whom he's cured.</p> + +<p>But he is no good for cholera, poor Binzuru. You can't reach him quick +enough to rub his stomach, then your own. Cholera's too quick for +that. You can't reach him soon enough. He can't help in this.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>Down the road a stretcher comes, swinging from a bamboo pole, carried +on the shoulders of two men. Over it a mat is thrown, and through the +little open triangle at one end, you see a pair of brown legs lying. +Only legs, no more. Drawn up stiffly, toes clinched.</p> + +<p>Here in the hospital they lie in rows, very quiet. Not an outcry, not +a murmur. Everything is swimming in carbolic. The nurses wear masks +across their mouths and noses. They come and go in clogs, barefooted, +and splash through the carbolic on the floors. This is cholera. These +people, lying so quietly upon their hard pillows, have cholera. It is +not spectacular. All are poor folk, fishermen, sailors, farmers, +shopkeepers, all the ignorant, the stupid, who were not afraid. One is +dying. Nose pinched, gasping, bathed in sweat. The hot air can't warm +him. He is dying, cold.</p> + +<p>So there is cholera in the land, and fear of cholera. Those who were +not afraid have cholera. With them it is a matter of a few days only, +one way or the other. But those who have fear of cholera have +something which lasts much longer, weeks and weeks. Till the heat +breaks. Till the typhoon comes.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="COSMIC_JUSTICE" id="COSMIC_JUSTICE"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h1>COSMIC JUSTICE</h1> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span><br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span><br /> + +<h2>X</h2> + +<h3>COSMIC JUSTICE<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> +<br /> + +<p>Young Withers bought out his uncle's firm of Withers, Ltd., importers. +He had been associated with his uncle for some years, as a minor +partner, and how he could manage to take over the prosperous Withers, +Ltd. without capital, is one of the mysteries of finance that do not +concern us. Suffice it that he did, everything included, the big +godowns on the quais, shipping rights, the goodwill, stock and +fixtures, and the old compradore, Li Yuan Chang. Most particular was +old Mr. Withers that Li Yuan Chang should be included. "You will never +find a better compradore," he had explained over and over, "in fact, +the business will go to pieces without him." Presumably old Mr. +Withers knew what he was talking about, for Li had been his +interpreter, his accountant, his man of affairs for years. So of +course young Withers made no <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>objection, and considered that he was +very fortunate in having Li stay with him, after the turnover. For old +Li was rich enough to retire by this time, no doubt, as compradores +always find means to put away something year by year over and above +their salaries. But he was scrupulously honest—old Mr. Withers had +full and complete trust in him, and explained to his nephew that he +could leave Tientsin from time to time, for as long a time as he +liked, in fact, and could be sure meanwhile that old Li would look out +for his interests.</p> + +<p>"Just be careful of him," he explained. "He's really invaluable. But +be a little careful of him—considerate, I mean—he's not very +strong——"</p> + +<p>"Chandoo?" asked young Withers suspiciously, by which he meant, was Li +addicted to smoking that cheapest form of opium, the refuse and +scrapings, which was the only grade that all but the richest could +afford.</p> + +<p>"Oh never," replied old Mr. Withers, "never. In all the years I've had +him. Never touches a pipe. Temperate and austere in all things, to a +degree. But he is getting old now and needs humouring—likes to feel +his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>importance, does not care to be overlooked in the way young men +may be inclined to overlook him,—his work, I mean. Besides, he's not +very strong, rather delicate in fact, so you must be easy with him. +But you'll never get a better compradore, and he's good for many years +yet—or until you learn the ropes."</p> + +<p>After which old Mr. Withers concerned himself very earnestly in the +preparations for his departure, for he was leaving China for a better +land,—England, I mean.</p> + +<p>Young Withers set about learning the business under the direction of +old Li. Which greatly complimented old Li, who liked being deferred to +by a European. And young Withers being very easy-going, and having +fallen into a business which required no up-building, being already in +its stride, most successful, he left a good many of the details to his +compradore, and bragged about him a good deal, saying that indeed he +had inherited from his uncle a most wonderful and competent man of +affairs. Therefore he was greatly astonished one day, about two years +after his accession, when Li asked for a vacation—a long one.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>"Want go America," explained the Chinese succinctly. Young Withers was +dumbfounded.</p> + +<p>"But you can't go America!" he explained, "no can go. What become of +business here in Tientsin if you go America? No can do."</p> + +<p>Li had had his own way about many things during a great number of +years, and opposition, no matter from what motives, meant nothing to +him. He settled his big horn spectacles more firmly on his nose, and +flecked invisible dust from his rich black brocade coat.</p> + +<p>"Want go America," he repeated without emphasis.</p> + +<p>"Whatever for?" asked young Withers, to whom a desire to go to America +was incomprehensible. He himself had never felt a desire to go to +America, and that his old compradore should be so obsessed was past +his understanding. Besides, he could imagine somewhat what would +befall the old gentleman, who after many years was only able to speak +pidgin-English, who never wore European clothes, and who had managed +to retain his magnificent queu in spite of all the troubles following +the Boxer business. Old Withers <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>had managed to preserve Li's queu for +him. Took him into his compound and sheltered him, and finally got a +permit from the Legation to allow him to wear it. Li was enormously +proud of this queu, which was long and thick and glossy, and its +length enhanced by a black silk cord, neatly plaited in towards the +end—altogether, it came nearly down to his heels, the envy and +admiration of many a Chinese gentleman who had been abruptly shorn +before help arrived. Young Withers visualised his dignified compradore +the figure of fun to irreverent American crowds. He sincerely wished +to preserve him from what he felt must be an unpleasant experience. He +was even more anxious to protect his old friend from what would +probably be in store for him, than through any selfish desire to +retain his services.</p> + +<p>"Come back again four month," observed Li. "Not long time. Want to +go." Young Withers sighed. It was impossible to explain to the old +man. There were pitfalls and pitfalls, he well knew. Yet he had never +been to America himself, so could not speak from experience. Only the +evening before he had been dining in company with a wise woman <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>of +sorts, a French lady who had lived in a cave in Tibet for some years, +pursuing reluctant hermits into their mountain fastnesses in order to +obtain elucidation on certain Buddhist books. She had told him frankly +that she was bound back again for her cave, or for the wilds of +Mongolia, but never, under any circumstances, could she trust herself +to the risks of American civilization. Young Withers tried to explain +something of this to the old man, who was very patient and did not +interrupt him, but the seed was falling on barren ground. If he could +just understand English better, thought Withers, I might be able to +make him see. So Withers' oratory was lost, to a large degree, and +when he came to a pause Li repeated, without emphasis,</p> + +<p>"Want go America."</p> + +<p>"But you're too old!" exclaimed the young man, exasperated by such +obstinacy. "Too—you're too—you're not strong enough. You're +too—delicate——"</p> + +<p>"Want go America. Four month. Come back then," said Li, and Withers +gave it up. Two weeks later Li was standing on the deck of a small +Japanese liner bound from Tientsin <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>to Kobe, from which port he would +transship to a larger Japanese liner bound for San Francisco. He took +with him many bundles of odd sizes, wrapped in coarse blue cotton, +seemingly of no value. He waved a dignified farewell from the rail, +and young Withers, on the dock, watched the departure of his old +compradore with infinite misgivings.</p> + +<p>Four months, including the passage both ways, proved much too long a +time in which to see America. Li returned unexpectedly one day, within +half that time, a silent and broken man. His blue bundles, whatever +their mystery, were gone, his rich brocade coat was gone, and gone +also was his confidence and trust in human kind. Only his thick, +glossy, long queu remained to him,—that, and a singular taciturnity. +Whatever his experiences, no word would he speak concerning them—he +preserved a rigid silence. Something had been broken in the old man, +there beyond the seas, and whatever had befallen him was abhorrent and +unspeakable. He seemed very much older, very much more frail, and his +thin, fine hands were always trembling in a manner unaccustomed. Young +Withers was in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>distress, for Li's distress was so obvious, his +singular reticence making him suffer still more.</p> + +<p>"Those thugs in San Francisco must have cleaned out the old fellow +first day on shore," he concluded, and then thought no more about it. +It was pitiful to see the old man, however, pitiful to watch him going +about his duties with the recollection of his terrible days in the New +World undermining his spirits and vitality. The secret, whatever it +was that had befallen him, was sapping his frail strength. Only on one +occasion, several months later, did he bring up the subject. He +appeared suddenly before Withers' desk one day, and there was an angry +gleam in his spectacled eyes.</p> + +<p>"Your uncle never let me go America. Twenty years with your uncle. +Very good man. Never can go." He turned away abruptly.</p> + +<p>"By Jove," thought young Withers to himself, "the old chap's holding +me responsible. Blaming it all on me. I like that!" and he laughed a +little, uneasily. These Chinese were queer ones. You never knew how +they stood.</p> + +<p>The firm of Withers, Ltd. was very busy. Every week or so ships came +into the harbour <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>with boxes and bales of European merchandise of a +rather shoddy kind, intended for the markets of North China. And there +was much business in transferring these boxes and bales to the big +godowns, with their heavy iron doors and windows, in checking them up, +sorting them out—in short, all the sort of activity that goes with a +firm of importers, such as this one. Also there was much business in +distributing these boxes and bales, or rather the contents thereof, to +the railway station, for shipment to Peking and to remote provinces in +the north and west. In Peking, these shoddy goods were made into +smaller bales, and laden on camels, for some far off, remote +destination in the interior. This took Withers frequently to Peking, +leaving old Li in charge of the godowns in Tientsin. Withers always +took charge of this end of the business, because of the opportunity it +offered to get away from daily contact with his old compradore. +Somehow, he felt rather uneasy in the old man's presence. There was a +change in his manner, most marked. Again and again that remark +occurred to him, and again and again, in the compradore's presence, +Withers <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span>was conscious of a feeling of undefinable hostility. He holds +me responsible, he thought, absurd, but that's what it is. Because I +did not prevent him from going to America. Therefore Withers was very +glad to go to Peking from time to time, for he liked the excitement of +the barbaric capital, and besides, he thought it would be good for Li +to be quite on his own in charge of the godowns, and might distract +his thoughts from that obsession which was preying upon him.</p> + +<p>One day, after an absence of two weeks, young Withers returned to his +Tientsin office, which wore a somewhat deserted air. The shroff was +clicking on his abacus, and left off snicking the beads up and down to +remark casually that the compradore had gone. The shroff was a young +Chinese who spoke excellent, mission-school English, and wore good +European clothes, and he shared Withers' astonishment that such a +thing had happened.</p> + +<p>"Wanted to go home, he said. Had had enough business. Gone home ten +days ago, with his family. Said say good-bye to you."</p> + +<p>Withers' first feeling was of relief. That's that, he thought to +himself, and just as well. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>He stood eyeing the young Chinese +accountant, and the shroff looked him back fairly in the eye, and the +same thought passed through both minds. A younger man would do just as +well as compradore, and here was the younger man at hand, waiting. +"Let's go down to the godowns," said Withers, and the two walked out +of the office together, in the direction of the quais. The shroff +should learn things from the beginning, and taking charge of the bales +and boxes in the warehouses, counting them, distributing their +contents, was part of the business.</p> + +<p>On unlocking the great, heavy doors, the godowns presented a singular +aspect. Never, in all the years that young Withers had been associated +as junior partner in Withers, Ltd., and never in the few years since +he had become Withers, Ltd. himself, had the godowns presented such an +aspect. They were empty. Quite, stark, utterly empty. Not a bale, not +a box, not a yard of calico was to be found anywhere about. The +sunshine slanted in through the open door, and not a moat of dust +danced in the rays, for nothing had been disturbed for some time, and +the dust was settled. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>They went top-side, into the lofts. The same +thoroughness presented itself. Everything had been cleared out, +absolutely.</p> + +<p>"Stolen!" exclaimed Withers.</p> + +<p>"Clean-sweep!" said the shroff, in his mission-school English.</p> + +<p>"Ruined!" added Withers to himself.</p> + +<p>Together they hurried back to the office and examined things. It was +evident in a moment how it had been done. Withers had signed an order +for the removal of five boxes. The compradore had deftly added a +cipher and raised it to fifty. And so on. Done repeatedly, with +neatness and precision, over Withers' own signature. No wonder the +streets about the godowns had presented an air of activity at times.</p> + +<p>"We must find him," said Withers, "catch him quickly, before he has +time to dispose of the money."</p> + +<p>The old compradore had made no effort to hide his whereabouts. There +were a dozen people to whom he had said farewell, telling them that he +had now given up work and was retiring with his family to his home in +the Western Hills. Over Jehol way. Three weeks by <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>cart. Aye, his cart +had come down from Peking to fetch him, a two days' journey. He was +not taking the train. He had started early one morning in his big, +blue-hooded cart, drawn by a gorgeous yellow mule, its harness inlaid +with jade stones. Not number-one jade, of course, but still jade, and +of value. Ten days ago he had gone.</p> + +<p>Withers and the shroff caught the first train out for Peking, and +arriving in two hours, made hasty preparations for their journey. They +obtained a cart and a mule, bedding rolls and tinned food, and by +afternoon had set out through the West Gate of the Tartar City, over +the dusty plains towards the Western Hills. Over Jehol way, towards a +village beyond Jehol, up in the hills, where Li Yuan Chang had his +dwelling.</p> + +<p>Travelling is slow in a Peking cart, and uncomfortable. The heavy, +springless vehicle lumbered along, bouncing over the deep, dried ruts, +at times sinking hub deep into the dry holes. There were times when +the road was below the level of the adjacent fields, so deep below +that even the hood of the cart was below them, worn as they were by +centuries of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span>travel. At these times, the dust swept through the +narrow channel, blinding. Once or twice they ran into a dust storm +whirling down from the north, from the great Gobi Desert, beyond. Then +they drew down the curtains of the cart, suffocating inside, tossed +from side to side, up and down, by the hard jolting of the vehicle. By +night they rested at wayside inns, sometimes finding the compounds +filled with camels, great shaggy brutes that lay about at all angles, +over the courtyard, and snorted and nipped at the intruders. They +slept at night in their cart, wrapping up well in their bedding rolls, +shivering at times in the keen October wind. Their coolies shared the +k'ang within, with the camel drivers and other travellers, but Withers +and the shroff preferred the cart, for there were worse if smaller +animals than camels to be found in native hostelries. Toilsome, weary +days succeeded one another, broken by restless nights, yet ever they +pushed westward, slowly, laboriously.</p> + +<p>The coolies brought them news of the wayside, gathering it each night +from the inns. A great mandarin had passed that way some days ago—a +great man surely, to judge by the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>length of the axles of his cart, +which stuck out a good foot beyond the hubs, marking him as a man of +importance. And a great yellow mule, with harness set with jade +stones, and the brasses polished,—oh, a very rich man, evidently! So +each night they heard accounts of the rich man who had gone ahead, +with his retinue, his family and servants and packmules. It was well +noised abroad, evidently, through the countryside. Travellers coming +from beyond Jehol had met him with his train, and the inns at which +they stopped always had news of his progress, outward bound. In a +hurry, too. And very fearful of the roadside dangers. Always in the +compounds before dusk, fearful of highwaymen.</p> + +<p>To Withers, the suspense of the slow journey was well nigh unbearable. +He, too, was in a hurry, worn with fatigue and anxiety. At first, he +had been merely anxious to overtake the old man, to obtain +restitution. But with the wayside gossip prevailing, other fears +entered his mind. One day at noon time, they entered a village +apparently deserted. The heavy gates of the compounds were closed, not +a person visible in the long, straggling street. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>Every one had +withdrawn himself into his house, behind locked and bolted doors. At +the inn, they pounded repeatedly on the gates, asking admission. +Slowly, after a very long time, the gates were opened an inch, and it +could be seen that there was the pressure of many men on the inside, +ready to slam and bar them in an instant. Then, seeing they were but +travellers, they were hastily admitted into the courtyard, and the +gates closed and barred again. Bandits. A band of them was scouring +the country, thirty or more, down from Mongolia. Abject terror was on +every face. The whole village was under its spell.</p> + +<p>"We must push on," said Withers, "we must hasten." The shroff was very +fearful, but as he was to be compradore now, to do the work of a +European, he could not show fear. But the mafu and the coolies were +too frightened to continue the journey, so they were left behind, and +Withers and the shroff went off by themselves. It was very foolhardy, +he told himself, it was sheer madness. But he was ruined anyhow, so it +did not much matter. Only, he must somehow reach the village three +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>days' journey beyond Jehol—if only he could arrive in time.</p> + +<p>Very laborious was the travelling, and they walked in the wake of +fear. They now passed through many deserted villages, one after +another, locked and barred, that the murderous band from Mongolia had +ridden through. Only, they had gone ahead, the bandits—perhaps they +would not he riding back that way again. Perhaps they would be going +on, into the north again, after they had finished——</p> + +<p>Finished? Yes, it was a very rich man they were after,—they had asked +for him all along the road. They were trailing him to his home, +following with great ease the description of the great mandarin, with +the great yellow mule with jade-set harness, who had gone by with his +retinue just before.</p> + +<p>So Withers and the shroff continued their desolate journey, day by +day, across the plains, over such roads as are not, save in North +China. Passing through villages shut and empty, through fields in +which there were no workers, following in the train of terror that had +been spread over the land by the bandits from the north. And the +terror reached into <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span>Withers' heart, making it cold. They do not want +<i>us</i>, he said to himself, over and over. We are quite safe. But the +old man—— The little shroff, however, who was also filled with +terror, did not think they were safe at all. Only he must appear as +brave as a European, so he could only tremble inwardly. Besides all +that, the big mule was very difficult to manage, and they had to drag +the cart from the deep ruts many times a day, and each evening when +they were most tired, they had to calm the suspicions of those within, +and make long explanations before the inn gates, before they could be +admitted into the compounds.</p> + +<p>They arrived at their destination at dusk one evening, after three +weeks' weary travel. Trembling fingers pointed out the house—trembling, +but in a manner, reassured. At the end of the long street they would +find the house, a very fine house indeed—formerly a mandarin's palace, +they explained, but purchased a few months ago by a rich man who had +come there with his family to live. The tired men and tired mule pushed +on through the long street, gazed upon curiously by clustering Chinese, +huddled in doorways. They <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>came to a high wall topped with broken glass, +a high, strong wall, surrounding a large compound. Beyond, at the +entrance, stood two stone lions, such as mark the homes of the rich and +great. But the great stone guardian lions were guarding a broken door. +The high, red lacquered door was split into many pieces, the hinges +holding, but the doors themselves split, so that a man's body could +crawl through.</p> + +<p>Withers led the way, the shroff following. Within, the compound was +deserted. They made their way to the doors of the main house, which +had been smashed in. The rooms inside were empty, stripped, their +treasures gone, cleaned out. Very much in appearance like the godowns +in Tientsin. They made their way through the silent compound into the +women's compound in the rear. It was the same—ransacked, despoiled. +But there were many compounds and many houses, so together they passed +through moon gates, over elaborate terraces, beside peony mountains, +and summer houses, across delicate rock bridges with marble +balustrades. Silent, deserted, bearing the evidence of thorough +looting.</p> + +<p>Then, quite at the rear, a woman appeared, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>the number-one wife of Li +Yuan Chang. She peered round the edges of a moon gate, hiding her body +behind it. She recognised Withers and the shroff and came forward. She +was very apologetic, very embarrassed, for she was wearing coolie +clothes. Her own, she explained, had been taken from her by the +bandits. Timidly she approached them, but the timidity was +embarrassment. She was very embarrassed to be found in coolie clothes, +felt resentment at the humiliation, and apologised repeatedly for her +appearance. She could think of nothing else. Then she led the way +still further to the rear, to a compound quite behind all the other +compounds and other houses of the gorgeous mandarin's palace. The last +stand of the defenders. They were scattered about the courtyard in all +attitudes, in grotesque and uncouth positions, all dead. She pointed +to a figure lying face downward, a thin, elderly figure, in +blood-soaked black brocade, with a magnificent queu lying at right +angles to the dead body.</p> + +<p>Once more she apologised for appearing before the gentlemen in coolie +clothes. She felt the disgrace keenly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>"My husband," she explained contemptuously, pointing to the old +compradore, "was unable to protect us. He was always such a delicate +old thing."</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="tr"> +<p class="cen"><a name="TN" id="TN"></a>Typographical errors corrected in text:</p> +<br /> +Page 19: felt replaced with left<br /> +Page 97: comtemptible replaced with contemptible<br /> +Page 128: apparparently replaced with apparently<br /> +Page 155: muts replaced with must<br /> +Page 199: aleady replaced with already<br /> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CIVILIZATION***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 19916-h.txt or 19916-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/9/1/19916">http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/9/1/19916</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Civilization + Tales of the Orient + + +Author: Ellen Newbold La Motte + + + +Release Date: November 24, 2006 [eBook #19916] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CIVILIZATION*** + + +E-text prepared by David Garcia and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net/) from page images +generously made available by the Kentuckiana Digital Library +(http://kdl.kyvl.org/) + + + +Note: Images of the original pages are available through the + Kentuckiana Digital Library. See + http://kdl.kyvl.org/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=kyetexts;cc=kyetexts;xc=1&idno=B92-224-31182876&view=toc + + + +-----------------------------------------------------------+ + | Transcriber's Note: | + | | + | Inconsistent hyphenation and dialect in the original | + | book have been preserved. | + | | + | Obvious typographical errors have been corrected in this | + | text. For a complete list, please see the end of this | + | document. | + | | + +-----------------------------------------------------------+ + + + + + +CIVILIZATION + +Tales of the Orient + +by + +ELLEN N. LA MOTTE + +Author of "The Backwash of War," Etc + + + + + + + +New York +George H. Doran Company +Copyright, 1919, +by George H. Doran Company +Printed in the United States of America + + + + + The stories "Under A Wineglass," "Homesick" and "The Yellow + Streak" are published by courtesy of the _Century Magazine_. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + +I +THE YELLOW STREAK 11 + +II +ON THE HEIGHTS 33 + +III +HOMESICK 65 + +IV +CIVILIZATION 93 + +V +MISUNDERSTANDING 121 + +VI +PRISONERS 141 + +VII +CANTERBURY CHIMES 177 + +VIII +UNDER A WINEGLASS 217 + +IX +CHOLERA 235 + +X +COSMIC JUSTICE 247 + + + + +THE YELLOW STREAK + + + + +I + +THE YELLOW STREAK + + +He came out to Shanghai a generation ago, in those days when Shanghai +was not as respectable as it is now--whatever that says to you. It +was, of course, a great change from Home, and its crude pleasures and +crude companions gave him somewhat of a shock. For he was of decent +stock, with a certain sense of the fitness of things, and the +beach-combers, adventurers, rough traders and general riff-raff of the +China Coast, gathered in Shanghai, did not offer him the society he +desired. He was often obliged to associate with them, however, more or +less, in a business way, for his humble position as minor clerk in a +big corporation entailed certain responsibilities out of hours, and +this responsibility he could not shirk, for fear of losing his +position. Thus, by these acts of civility, more or less enforced, he +was often led into a loose sort of intimacy, into companionship with +people who were distasteful to his rather fastidious nature. But what +can you expect on the China Coast? He was rather an upright sort of +young man, delicate and abstemious, and the East being new to him, +shocked him. He took pleasure in walking along the Bund, marvelling at +the great river full of the ships of the world, marvelling at the +crowds from the four corners of the world who disembarked from these +ships and scattered along the broad and sunny thoroughfare, seeking +amusements of a primitive sort. But in these amusements he took no +part. For himself, a gentleman, they did not attract. Not for long. +The sing-song girls and the "American girls" were coarse, vulgar +creatures and he did not like them. It was no better in the back +streets--bars and saloons, gaming houses and opium divans, all the +coarse paraphernalia of pleasure, as the China Coast understood the +word, left him unmoved. These things had little influence upon him, +and the men who liked them overmuch, who chaffed him because of his +squeamishness and distaste of them, were not such friends as he needed +in his life. However, there were few alternatives. There was almost +nothing else for it. Companionship of this kind, or the absolute +loneliness of a hotel bedroom were the alternatives which confronted +him. He had very little money,--just a modest salary--therefore the +excitement of trading, of big, shady deals, said nothing to him. He +went to the races, a shy onlooker. He could not afford to risk his +little salary in betting. Above all things, he was cautious. +Consequently life did not offer him much outside of office hours, and +in office hours it offered him nothing at all. You will see from this +that he was a very limited person, incapable of expansion. Now as a +rule, life in the Far East does not have this effect upon young men. +It is generally stimulating and exciting, even to the most +unimaginative, while the novelty of it, the utter freedom and lack of +restraint and absence of conventional public opinion is such that +usually, within a very short time, one becomes unfitted to return to a +more formal society. In the old days of a generation ago, life on the +China Coast was probably much more exciting and inciting than it is +to-day, although to-day, in all conscience, the checks are off. But +our young man was rather fine, rather extraordinarily fastidious, and +moreover, he had a very healthy young appetite for the normal. The +offscourings of the world and of society rolled into Shanghai with the +inflow of each yellow tide of the Yangtzse, and somehow, he resented +that deposit. He resented it, because from that deposit he must pick +out his friends. Therefore instead of accepting the situation, instead +of drinking himself into acquiescence, or drugging himself into +acquiescence, he found himself quite resolved to remain firmly and +consciously outside of it. In consequence of which decision he +remained homesick and lonely, and his presence in the community was +soon forgotten or overlooked. Shy and priggish, he continued to lead +his lonely life. In his solitary walks along the Bund, there was no +one to take his arm and snigger suggestions into his ear, and lead him +into an open doorway where the suggestions could be carried out. He +had come out to the East for a long term of years, and the prospect of +these interminable years made his position worse. Not that it shook +his decision to remain aloof and detached from the call of the +East--his decision was not shaken in the slightest, which seemed +almost a pity. + +Like all foreigners, of course, he had his own opinions of the +Chinese. They were an inferior, yellow race, and therefore despicable. +But having also a firm, unshakable opinion of his own race, especially +of those individuals of his race in which a yellow streak +predominated, he held the Chinese in no way inferior to these +yellow-streaked individuals. Which argues broadmindedness and +fairmindedness. Of the two, perhaps, he thought the Chinese +preferable--under certain circumstances. Yet he knew them to be +irritating in business dealings, corrupt, dishonest--on the whole he +felt profound scorn for them. But as they had been made to suit the +purposes of the ruling races of the world--such, for example, as +himself, untainted by a yellow streak--he had to that extent, at +least, succumbed to the current opinions of Shanghai. He resolved to +make use of them--of one, at least, in particular. + +He wanted a home. Wanted it desperately. He wanted to indulge his +quiet, domestic tastes, to live in peace a normal, peaceful life, far +apart from the glittering trivialities of the back streets of the +town. He wanted a home of his own, a refuge to turn to at the end of +each long, monotonous day. You see, he was not an adventurer, a +gambler, a wastrel, and he wanted a quiet home with a companion to +greet him, to take care of him, to serve him in many ways. There was +no girl in England whom he wanted to come out to marry him. Had there +been such a girl, he would probably not have allowed her to come. He +was a decent young man, and the climate was such, here on the China +Coast, that few women could stand it without more of the comforts and +luxury than his small salary could have paid for. So finally, at the +end of a year or two, he got himself the home he wanted, in +partnership with a little Chinese girl who answered every purpose. He +was not in love with her, in any exalted sense, but she supplied +certain needs, and at the end of his long days, he had the refuge that +he craved. She kept him from going to the bad. + +His few friends--friends, however, being hardly the word to apply to +his few casual acquaintances,--were greatly surprised at this. Such an +establishment seemed to them the last sort of thing a man of this +type would have gone in for. He had seemed such a decent sort, too. +Really, a few professed to be quite shocked--they said you never knew +how the East would affect a person, especially a decent person. For +themselves, they preferred looser bonds, with less responsibility. +They said this to each other between drinks, and there was then, as +now, much drinking in Shanghai. A few even said this to each other +quite seriously, as they lay in pairs on opium divans, smoking opium, +with little Chinese girls filling their pipes--girls who would +afterwards be as complaisant as was required. One man who had lost his +last cent at the gambling wheels, professed great astonishment at this +departure from the usual track, a departure quite unnecessary since +there were so many ways of amusing oneself out here in the East. Of +course such unions were common enough, heaven knows--there was nothing +unusual about it. But then such fastidious people did not as a rule go +in for them. It was not the menage, it was the fact that this +particular young man had set up such, that caused the comment. The +comment, however, was short-lived. There was too much else to think +about. + +Rogers liked his new life very much. Never for a moment did he think +of marrying the girl. That, of course, never dawned on him. Recollect, +he was in all things decent and correct, and such a step would have +been suicidal. Until the time came for him to go Home, she was merely +being made use of--and to be useful to the ruling races is the main +object in life for the Chinese. They exist for the profit and benefit +of the superior races, and this is the correct, standard opinion of +their value, and there are few on the China Coast, from Hongkong +upwards, who will disagree with it. + +In time, a son was born to Rogers, and for a while it filled him with +dismay. It was a contingency he had not foreseen, a responsibility he +had not contemplated, had not even thought he could afford. But in +time he grew used to the boy, and, in a vague way, fond of him. He +disturbed him very little, and counted very little in his life, after +all. Later, as the years rolled by, he began to feel some +responsibility towards the child. He despised half-breeds, +naturally--every one does. They are worse than natives, having +inherited the weakness of both ancestries. He was sincerely glad to be +rid of the whole business, when, at the end of about fifteen years, he +was called home to England. It had all served his purpose, this +establishment of his, and thanks to it, he was still clean and +straight, undemoralised by the insidious, undermining influences of +the East. When he returned to his native land, he could find himself a +home upon orthodox lines and live happily ever afterwards. Before he +left Shanghai, he sent his little Chinese girl, a woman long ago, of +course, back to her native province in the interior, well supplied +with money and with the household furniture. For the boy he had +arranged everything. He was to be educated in some good, commercial +way, fitted to take care of himself in the future. Through his lawyer, +he set aside a certain sum for this purpose, to be expended annually +until the lad was old enough to earn his own living. In all ways +Rogers was thoughtful and decent, far-sighted and provident. No one +could accuse him of selfishness. He did not desert his woman, turn her +adrift unprovided for, as many another would have done. No, thank +heavens, he thought to himself as he leaned over the rail of the ship, +fast making its way down the yellow tide, he had still preserved his +sense of honour. So many men go to pieces out in the East, but he, +somehow, had managed to keep himself clear and clean. + +Rogers drops out of the tale at this point, and as the ship slips out +of sight down the lower reaches of the Yangtzse, so does he disappear +from this story. It is to the boy that we must now turn our attention, +the half-caste boy who had received such a heritage of decency and +honour from one side of his house. In passing, let it be also said +that his mother, too, was a very decent little woman, in a humble, +Chinese way, and that his inheritance from this despised Chinese side +was not discreditable. His mother had gone obediently back to the +provinces, as had been arranged, the house passed into other hands, +and the half-caste boy was sent off to school somewhere, to finish his +education. Being young, he consoled himself after a time for the loss +of his home, its sudden and complete collapse. The memory of that +home, however, left deep traces upon him. + +In the first place, he was inordinately proud of his white blood. He did +not know that it had cost his guardian considerable searching to find a +school where white blood was not objected to--when running in Chinese +veins. His schoolmates, of European blood, were less tolerant than the +school authorities. He therefore soon found his white blood to be a +curse. There is no need to go into this in detail. For every one who +knows the East, knows the contempt that is shown a half-breed, a +Eurasian. Neither fish, flesh nor fowl--an object of general distrust +and disgust. Oh, useful enough in business circles, since they can +usually speak both languages, which is, of course, an advantage. But +socially, impossible. In time, he passed into a banking house, where +certain of his qualities were appreciated, but outside of banking hours +he was confronted with a worse problem than that which had beset his +father. He felt himself too good for the Chinese. His mother's people +did not appeal to him, he did not like their manners and customs. Above +all things he wanted to be English, like his father, whom in his +imagination he had magnified into a sort of god. But his father's people +would have none of him. Even the clerks in the bank only spoke to him on +necessary business, during business hours, and cut him dead on the +street. As for the roysterers and beach-combers gathered in the bars of +the hotels, they made him feel, low as they were, that they were not yet +sunk low enough to enjoy such companionship as his. It was very +depressing and made him feel very sad. He did not at first feel any +resentment or bitterness towards his absent father, disappeared forever +from his horizon. But it gave him a profound sense of depression. True, +there were many other half-breeds for him to associate with--the China +Coast is full of such--but they, like himself, were ambitious for the +society of the white man. What he craved was the society of the white +man, to which, from one side of his house, he was so justly entitled. He +was not a very noticeable half-breed either, for his features were +regular, and he was not darker than is compatible with a good sunburn. +But just the same, it was unmistakable, this touch of the tar brush, to +the discriminating European eye. He seemed inordinately slow witted--it +took him a long time to realise his situation. He argued it out with +himself constantly, and could arrive at no logical explanation. If his +mother, pure Chinese, was good enough for his father, why was not he, +only half-Chinese, good enough for his father's people? Especially in +view of the fact that his father's history was by no means uncommon. +His father and his kind had left behind them a trail of +half-breeds--thousands of them. If his mother had been good enough for +his father---- His thoughts went round and round in a puzzled, enquiring +circle, and still the problem remained unsolved. For he was very young, +and not as yet experienced. + +He was well educated. Why had his father seen to that? And he was well +provided for, and was now making money on his own account. He bought +very good clothes with his money, and went in the bar of one of the +big hotels, beautifully dressed, and took a drink at the bar and +looked round to see who would drink with him. He could never catch a +responsive eye, so was forced to drink alone. He hated drinking, +anyway. In many ways he was like his father. The petty clerks who +were at the office failed to see him at the race course. He hated the +races, anyway. In many respects he was like his father. But he was far +more lonely than his father had ever been. Thus he went about very +lonely, too proud to associate with the straight Chinese, his mother's +people, and humbled and snubbed by the people of his father's race. + +He was twenty years old when the Great War upset Europe. Shanghai was +a mass of excitement. The newspapers were ablaze. Men were needed for +the army. One of the clerks in the office resigned his post and went +home to enlist. In the first rush of enthusiasm, many other young +Englishmen in many other offices resigned their positions and +enlisted, although not a large number of them did so. For it was +inconceivable that the war could last more than a few weeks--when the +first P. and O. boat reached London, it would doubtless all be over. +During the excitement of those early days, some of the office force so +far forgot themselves as to speak to him on the subject. They asked +his opinion, what he thought of it. They did not ask the shroff, the +Chinese accountant, what he thought of it. But they asked him. His +heart warmed! They were speaking to him at last as an equal, as one +who could understand, who knew things English, by reason of his +English blood. + +So the Autumn came, and still the papers continued full of appeals for +men. No more of the office force enlisted, and their manner towards +him, of cold indifference, was resumed again after the one outburst of +friendliness occasioned by the first excitement. Still the papers +contained their appeals for men. But the men in the other offices +round town did not seem to enlist either. He marvelled a little. +Doubtless, however, England was so great and so invincible that she +did not need them. But why then these appeals? Soon he learned that +these young men could not be spared from their offices in the Far +East. They were indispensable to the trade of the mighty Empire. +Still, he remained puzzled. One day, in a fit of boldness, he ventured +to ask the young man at the next stool why he did not go. According to +the papers, England was clamouring loudly for her sons. + +"Enlist!" exclaimed the young Englishman angrily, colouring red. "Why +don't you enlist yourself? You say you're an Englishman, I believe!" + +The half-breed did not see the sneer. A great flood of light filled +his soul. He was English! One half of him was English! England was +calling for her own--and he was one of her own! He would answer the +call. A high, hot wave of exultation passed over him. His spirit was +uplifted, exalted. The glorious opportunity had come to prove +himself--to answer the call of the blood! Why had he never thought of +it before! + +For days afterwards he went about in a dream of excitement, his soul +dwelling on lofty heights. He asked to be released from his position, +and his request was granted. The manager shook hands with him and +wished him luck. His brother clerks nodded to him, on the day of his +departure, and wished him a good voyage. They did not shake hands with +him, and were not enthusiastic, as he hoped they would be. His spirits +were a little dashed by their indifference. However, they had always +slighted him, so it was nothing unusual. It would be different after +he had proved himself--it would be all right after he had proved +himself, had proved to himself and to them, that English blood ran in +his veins, and that he was answering the call of the blood. + +His adventures in the war do not concern us. They concern us no more +than the gap in the office, caused by his departure, concerned his +employer or his brother clerks. Within a few weeks, his place was +taken by another young Englishman, just out, and the office routine +went on as usual, and no one gave a thought to the young recruit who +had gone to the war. Just one comment was made. "Rather cheeky of him, +you know, fancying himself an Englishman." Then the matter dropped. +Gambling and polo and golf and cocktails claimed the attention of +those who remained, and life in Shanghai continued normal as usual. + +In due course of time, his proving completed, he returned to his +native land. As the ship dropped anchor in the lower harbour, his +heart beat fast with a curious emotion. An unexpected emotion, Chinese +in its reactions. The sight of the yellow, muddy Yangtzse moved him +strangely. It was his river. It belonged, somehow, to him. He stood, +a lonely figure, on the deck, clad in ill-fitting, civilian clothes, +not nearly so jaunty as those he used to wear before he went away. His +clothes fell away from him strangely, for illness had wasted him, and +his collar stood out stiffly from his scrawny neck. One leg was gone, +shot away above the knee, and he hobbled painfully down the gangplank +and on to the tender, using his crutches very awkwardly. + +The great, brown, muddy Yangtzse! His own river! The ships of the +world lay anchored in the harbour, the ships of all the world! The +tender made its way upward against the rushing tide, and great, clumsy +junks floated downstream. As they neared the dock, crowds of bobbing +sampans, with square, painted eyes--so that they might see where they +were going--came out and surrounded them. A miserable emotion overcame +him. They were his junks--he understood them. They were his sampans, +with their square, painted eyes--eyes that the foreigners pointed to +and laughed at! He understood them all--they were all his! + +Presently he found himself upon the crowded Bund, surrounded by a +crowd of men and women, laughing, joyous foreigners, who had come to +meet their own from overseas. No one was there to meet him, but it was +not surprising. He had sent word to no one, because he had no one to +send word to. He was undecided where to go, and he hobbled along a +little, to get out of the crowd, and to plan a little what he should +do. As he stood there undecided, waiting a little, hanging upon his +crutches, two young men came along, sleek, well-fed, laughing. He +recognised them at once--two of his old colleagues in the office. They +glanced in his direction, looked down on his pinned-up trouser leg, +caught his eye, and then, without sign of recognition, passed on. + +He was still a half-breed. + + + + +ON THE HEIGHTS + + + + +II + +ON THE HEIGHTS + + +Rivers made his way to China many years ago. He was an adventurer, a +ne'er-do-weel, and China in those days was just about good enough for +him. Since he was English, it might have seemed more natural for him +to have gone to India, or the Straits Settlements, or one of the other +colonies of the mighty Empire, but for some reason, China drew him. He +was more likely to meet his own sort in China, where no questions +would be asked. And he did meet his own sort--people just like +himself, other adventurers and ne'er-do-weels, and their companionship +was no great benefit to him. So he drifted about all over China, +around the coast towns and back into the interior, to and fro, +searching for opportunities to make his fortune. But being the kind of +man he was, fortune seemed always to elude him. In course of time he +became rather well known on the China Coast--known as a beach-comber. +And even when he went into the remote, interior province of Szechuan, +where he lived a precarious, hand-to-mouth existence for several +years, he was also known as a beach-comber. Which shows that being two +thousand miles inland does not alter the characteristics associated +with that name. + +Personally, he was not a bad sort. Men liked him, that is, men of his +own type. Some of them succeeded better than he did, and afterwards +referred to him as "poor old Rivers," although he was not really old +at that time. Neither was he really old either, when he died, several +years later. He was rather interesting too, in a way, since he had +experienced many adventures in the course of his wanderings in remote +parts of the country, which adventures were rather tellable. He even +knew a lot about China, too, which is more than most people do who +have lived in China many years. Had he been of that sort, he might +have written rather valuable books, containing his shrewd observations +and intimate, underhand knowledge of political and economic +conditions. But he was emphatically not of that sort, so continued to +lead his disreputable, roving life for a period of ten years. At the +end of which time he met a plaintive little Englishwoman, just out +from Home, and she, knowing nothing whatever of Rivers, but being +taken with his glib tongue and rather handsome person, married him. + +As the wife of a confirmed beach-comber she had rather a hard time of +it. But for all that she was so plaintive and so supine, there was a +certain quality of force within her, and she insisted upon some +provision for the future. They were living in the interior at that +time, not too far in, and Rivers had come down to Shanghai to +negotiate some transactions for a certain firm. He could do things +like that well enough when he wanted to, as he had a certain ability, +and a knowledge of two or three Chinese dialects, and these things he +could put to account when he felt like it. Aided by his wife, +stimulated by her quiet, subtle insistence, he put through the +business entrusted to him, and the business promised success. Which +meant that the interior town in which they found themselves would soon +be opened to foreign trade. And as a new trade centre, however small, +Europeans would come to the town from time to time and require a +night's lodging. Here was where Mrs. Rivers saw her chance and took +it. In her simple, wholly supine way, she realised that there were +nothing but Chinese inns in the place, and therefore it would be a +good opportunity to open a hotel for foreigners. Numbers of foreigners +would soon be arriving, thanks to Rivers' efforts, and as he was now +out of employment (having gone on a prolonged spree to celebrate his +success and been discharged in consequence), there still remained an +opportunity for helping foreigners in another way. Personally, he +would have preferred to open a gambling house, but the risks were too +great. At that time the town was not yet fully civilized or +Europeanised, and he realised that he would encounter considerable +opposition to this scheme from the Chinese--and he was without +sufficient influence or protection to oppose them. His wife, +therefore, insisted upon the hotel, and he saw her point. She did not +make it in behalf of her own welfare, or the welfare of possible +future children. She merely made it as an opportunity that a man of +his parts ought not to miss. He had made a few hundred dollars out of +his deal, and fortunately, had not spent all of it on his grand +carouse. There was enough left for the new enterprise. + +So they took a temple. Buddhism being in a decadent state in China, +and the temples being in a still further state of decay, it was an +easy matter to arrange things with the priests. The temple selected +was a large, rambling affair, with many compounds and many rooms, +situated in the heart of the city, and near the newly opened offices +of the newly established firm, the nucleus of this coming trade centre +of China. A hundred dollars Mex. rented it for a year, and Mrs. Rivers +spent many days sweeping and cleaning it, while Rivers himself helped +occasionally, and hired several coolies to assist in the work as well. +The monks' houses were washed and whitewashed; clean, new mats spread +on the floors, cheap European cots installed, with wash basins, jugs +and chairs, and other accessories such as are not found in native +inns. The main part of the temple still remained open for worship, +with the dusty gods on the altars and the dingy hangings in place as +usual. The faithful, such as there were, still had access to it, and +the priests lived in one of the compounds, but all the other compounds +were given over to Rivers for his new enterprise. Thus the prejudices +of the townspeople were not excited, the old priests cleared a hundred +dollars Mex., while the new tenants were at liberty to pursue their +venture to its most profitable limits. Mrs. Rivers managed the +housekeeping, assisted by a capable Chinese cook, and Rivers had a +sign painted, in English, bearing the words "Temple Hotel." +Fortunately it was summertime, so there were no expenses for +artificial heat, an item which would have taxed their small capital +beyond its limits. + +Two weeks after the Temple Hotel swung out its sign, the first guest +arrived, the manager of the new company. He came to town reluctantly, +dreading the discomforts of a Chinese inn, and bringing with him his +food and bedding roll, intending to sleep in his cart in the +courtyard. Consequently he was greatly pleased and greatly surprised +to find a European hotel, and he stayed there ten days in perfect +comfort. Mrs. Rivers treated him royally--lost money on him, in fact, +but it was a good investment. At parting, the manager told Rivers +that his wife was a marvel, as indeed she was. Then he went down to +Shanghai and spread the news among his friends, and from that time on, +the success of the Temple Hotel was assured. True, Rivers still +continued to be a good fellow, that is, he continued to drink pretty +hard, but his guests overlooked it and his wife was used to it, and +the establishment continued to flourish. In a year or two the railroad +came along, and a period of great prosperity set in all round. + +Like most foreigners, Rivers had a profound contempt for the Chinese. +They were inferior beings, made for servants and underlings, and to +serve the dominant race. He was at no pains to conceal this dislike, +and backed it up by blows and curses as occasion required. In this he +was not alone, however, nor in any way peculiar. Others of his race +feel the same contempt for the Chinese and manifest it by similar +demonstrations. Lying drunk under a walnut tree of the main courtyard, +Rivers had only to raise his eyes to his blue-coated, pig-tailed +coolies, to be immensely aware of his superiority. Kwong, his +number-one boy, used to survey him thus stretched upon the ground, +while Rivers, helpless, would explain to Kwong what deep and profound +contempt he felt for all those who had not his advantages--the great, +God-given advantage of a white skin. The lower down one is on the +social and moral plane, the more necessary to emphasize the +distinction between the races. Kwong used to listen, imperturbable, +thinking his own thoughts. When his master beat him, he submitted. His +impassive face expressed no emotion, neither assent nor dissent. + +Except for incidents like these, of some frequency, things went on +very well with Rivers for three or four years, and then something +happened. He had barely time to bundle his wife and children aboard an +English ship lying in harbour and send them down river to Shanghai, +before the revolution broke out. He himself stayed behind to see it +through, living in the comparative security of his Consulate, for the +outbreak was not directed against foreigners and he was safe enough +outside the city, in the newly acquired concession. On this particular +day, when things had reached their climax and the rebels were sacking +and burning the town, Rivers leaned over the ramparts of the city +wall and watched them. The whole Tartar City was in flames, including +the Temple Hotel. He watched it burn with satisfaction. When things +quieted down, he would put in his claim for an indemnity. The Chinese +government, whichever or whatever it happened to be, should be made to +pay handsomely for his loss. Really, at this stage of his fortunes +nothing could have been more opportune. The Temple Hotel had reached +the limit of its capacity, and he had been obliged to turn away +guests. Moreover the priests, shrewd old sinners, had begun to clamour +for increased rental. They had detected signs of prosperity--as +indeed, who could not detect it--and for some time past they had been +urging that a hundred dollars Mex. a year was inadequate compensation. +Well, this revolution, whatever it was all about, would put a stop to +all that. Rivers would claim, and would undoubtedly receive, an ample +indemnity, with which money he would build himself a fine modern +hostelry, such as befitted this flourishing new trade centre, and as +befitted himself, shrewd and clever man of affairs. Altogether, this +revolution was a most timely and fortunate occurrence. He surveyed the +scene beneath him, but a good way off, be it said. Shrieks and yells, +firing and destruction, and the whole Tartar City in names and fast +crumbling into ashes. + +The revolution settled itself in due time. The rebels either got what +they wanted, or didn't get what they wanted, or changed their minds +about wanting it after all, as sometimes happens with Chinese +uprisings. Whichever way it was, law and order were finally restored +and life resumed itself again on normal lines, although the Tartar +City, lying within the Chinese City, was a total wreck. What happened +in consequence to the despoiled and dispersed Manchu element is no +concern of ours. + +Rivers put in his claim for an indemnity and got it. It was awarded +promptly, that is, with the delay of only a few months, and he at once +set out to build himself a fine hotel, in accordance with his highest +ambitions. The construction was entrusted to a native contractor, and +while the work progressed apace, he and his wife went down river to +Shanghai, and the children were sent north somewhere to a mission +school. During this enforced residence in Shanghai, in which city he +had been known some years ago as a pronounced beach-comber and +ne'er-do-weel, he was obliged to live practically without funds. +However, he was able to borrow on the strength of his indemnity, but +to do him justice, he limited his borrowings to the lowest terms, not +wishing to encroach upon his capital. In all this economy of living, +his wife assisted him greatly, for although supine and flexible there +was that quality of force about her which we have mentioned before. + +As befitted a person who had lost his all in a Chinese uprising and +had been rewarded with a large sum of money in return, Rivers was +particularly bitter against the Chinese. His old contempt and hatred +flared up to large proportions, and he expressed his feelings openly +and freely, especially at those times when alcohol clouded his +judgment. Moreover, he was living in Shanghai now, where it was easy +to express his feelings in the classic way approved by foreigners, and +sanctioned by the customs and usages of the International Settlement. +He delighted to walk along the Bund, among crowds of burdened coolies +bending and panting under great sacks of rice, and to see them shrink +and swerve as he approached, fearing a blow of his stick. When he rode +in rickshaws, he habitually cheated the coolie of his proper fare, +secure in the knowledge that the Chinese had no redress, could appeal +to no one, and must accept a few coppers or none at all, at his +pleasure. If the coolie objected, Rivers still had the rights of it. A +crowd might collect, vociferating in their vile jargon, but it +mattered nothing. A word from Rivers to a passing European, to a +policeman, to any one whose word carries in the Settlement, was +sufficient. He had but to explain that one of these impertinent yellow +pigs had tried to extort three times the legal fare, and his case was +won. No coolie could successfully contradict the word of a foreigner, +no police court, should matters go as far as that, would take a +Chinaman's word against that of a white man. He was quite secure in +his bullying, in his dishonesty, in his brutality, and there is no +place on earth where the white man is more secure in his +whitemanishness than in this Settlement, administered by the ruling +races of the world. Rivers thoroughly enjoyed these street fracases, +in which he was the natural and logical victor. He enjoyed telling +about them afterward, for they served to illustrate his conception of +the Chinese character and of the Chinese race in general. It was but +natural for him to feel this way, seeing what losses he had suffered +through the revolution. As he told of his losses, it was not apparent +to an outsider that the hotel had not been utterly and entirely his +property, instead of an old Buddhist temple rented from the priests +for one hundred dollars Mex. a year. + +Besides Rivers, others in the town in the interior had suffered +hardships. Among them was his number-one boy, Kwong, who had served +him faithfully for several years. Kwong had been rather hard hit by +the uprising. His wretched little hovel had been burned to the ground, +his wife had fallen victim to a bullet, while his two younger children +disappeared during the excitement and were never heard of again. +Killed, presumably. After the victorious rebels had had their way, all +that remained to Kwong was his son Liu, aged eighteen, and these two +decided to come down to Shanghai and earn their living amidst more +civilized surroundings. One of the strongest arguments in favour of +the International Settlement is that it affords safety and protection +to the Chinese. They flock to it in great numbers, preferring the just +and beneficent administration of the white man to the uncertainties of +native rule. So Kwong and his son made their way down the Yangtzse, +floating down river on a stately junk with ragged matting sails. It +was the tide, and a bamboo pole for pushing, rather than any +assistance derived from the ragged sails, which eventually landed them +in the safe harbour of Whangpoo Creek, and stranded them on the mud +flats below Garden Bridge. + +Being illiterate people, father and son, unskilled labour was all that +presented itself, so they became rickshaw coolies, as so many country +people do. During a year, some two hundred thousand men, young and old +and mostly from up-country, take up the work of rickshaw runners. It +is not profitable employment, and the work is hard, and many of them +drop out--the come-and-go of rickshaw runners is enormous, a great, +unstable, floating population. Kwong and Liu hired a rickshaw between +them, for a dollar and ten cents a day, and their united exertions +barely covered the day's hire. Sometimes they had a few coppers over +and above the daily expenses, sometimes they fell below that sum and +had to make up the deficit on the morrow. On the occasions when they +were in debt to the proprietor, they were forced to forego the small +outlay required for food, and neither could afford a meagre bowl of +millet. Pulling a rickshaw on an empty stomach is not conducive to +health. Kwong, being an older man, found the strain very difficult, +and Liu, being but a fledgling and weak and undeveloped at that, also +found it difficult. They were always tired, nearly always hungry, and +part of the time ill. And what neither could understand was the +passengers' objection to paying the legal fare. Now and then, of +course, they had a windfall in the shape of a tourist or a drunken +sailor from a cruiser, but these exceptions were few and far between. +Necessarily so, considering the number of rickshaws, and that the tram +cars were strong competitors as well. + +They were also surprised at the attitude of the Europeans. The first +time that Liu was struck over the head by a beautiful Malacca cane, he +was aghast with astonishment--and pain. Fortunately he knew enough not +to hit hack. Not understanding English, he did not know that he was +being directed to turn up the Peking Road, and accordingly had run +swiftly past the Peking Road until brought to his senses, so to speak, +by a silver knob above the ear, which made him dizzy with pain. As +time passed, however, he grew accustomed to this attitude of the +ruling race, and accepted the blows without remonstrance, knowing that +remonstrance was vain. His fellow coolies soon taught him that. He and +his kind were but dogs in the sight of the foreigners, and must accept +a dog's treatment in consequence. Once a lady leaned far forward in +the rickshaw and gave him a vicious kick. Up till then, he had not +realised that the women of the white race also had this same feeling +towards him. But what can one expect? If a man lowers himself to the +plane of an animal and gets between shafts, he must expect an animal's +treatment. In certain communities, however, there are societies to +protect animals. + +Matters went along like this for some months, and Kwong and Liu barely +kept themselves going. However, they managed to keep out of debt for +the rickshaw hire, which was in itself an achievement. Rivers also +continued to live in Shanghai at this time, making up-river trips now +and then to inspect the progress of his new hotel, which was +favourable. As he landed at the Bund one day, returning from one of +these excursions, he chanced to step into the rickshaw pulled by his +old servitor, Kwong. Kwong made him a respectful salute, but Rivers, +preoccupied, failed to recognise his former servant in the old and +filthy coolie who stood between the shafts of an old and shabby +rickshaw. He always made it a point to select old rickshaws, pulled by +broken down men. They looked habitually underpaid, and were probably +used to it, and were therefore less likely to raise objections at the +end of the trip than one of the swift young runners who stood about +the European hotels. Remember, in extenuation, that Rivers was living +on credit at this time, on borrowed money, and he did not like to be +more extravagant than he had to. + +The day was a piping hot one, and the distance Rivers travelled was +something under three miles, out on the edge of French Town. When he +alighted, he found but three copper cents in his pocket, all that was +left him after a considerable carouse on the river boat coming down. +He tendered this sum to the panting and sweating Kwong, who stood +exhausted but respectful, hoping in a friendly way that his old master +would recognise him. To do Rivers justice, he did not recognise his +former servant, nor did he have more than three copper cents in his +possession, although that fact was known to him when he stepped into +the rickshaw and directed the coolie to French Town, extreme limits. +Kwong indignantly rejected the copper cents, and Rivers flung them +into the dust and turned away. Kwong ran after him, expostulating, +catching him by the coat sleeve. Rivers turned savagely. The wide road +was deserted, and in a flash he brought his heavy blackwood stick +across Kwong's face with a terrific blow. The coolie fell sprawling in +the dust at his old master's feet, and Rivers, furious, kicked him +savagely in the stomach, again and again, until the man lay still and +ceased writhing. Blood gushed from his mouth, making a puddle in the +dust, a puddle which turned black and thick about the edges. + +In an instant Rivers was sobered. He glanced swiftly up and down the +road, and to his dismay, saw a crowd of blue coated figures running in +his direction. He had barely time to stoop down and pick up the +tell-tale coppers before he was surrounded by a noisy and excited +group of Chinese, gesticulating furiously and rending the hot, blue +air with their outlandish cries. A policeman came in sight, and a +passing motor filled with foreigners stopped to see the trouble. He +had overdone things, surely. There was nothing for it but the police +station. + +Now such accidents are not infrequent in Shanghai, the white man's +city built in China, administered by the white men to their own +advantage, and to the advantage of the Chinese who seek protection +under the white man's just and beneficent rule. However, human life is +very cheap in China, cheaper than most places in the Orient, although +that is not saying much. It would, therefore, have been very easy for +Rivers to have extricated himself from this scrape had he possessed +any money. Two hundred and fifty dollars, Mex. is the usual price for +a coolie's life when an affair of this kind happens. There is a well +established precedent to this effect. Unfortunately for Rivers, he did +not possess two hundred and fifty dollars, for as has been said, he +was at this time living on borrowed money. Nothing for it then but a +trial, and certain unpleasant publicity. Happily, there were no +witnesses to the occurrence, and Rivers' plea of self-defence would +naturally he accepted. It was an unpleasant business, however, but +there was no other way out of it, seeing that he was bankrupt. + +The trial took place with due dignity. Evidence, produced after an +autopsy, proved that at the time of the accident Kwong was in a very +poor state of health. Every one knows that the work of a rickshaw +coolie is hard, the physical strain exceedingly severe. Four years, at +the outside, is the average life of a rickshaw runner, after which he +must change his occupation to something more suited to a physical +wreck. Much testimony was produced to show that Kwong had long ago +reached that point. He was courting death, defying death, every day. +It was his own fault. He had great varicose veins in his legs, which +were large and swollen. His heart, constantly overtaxed by running +with heavy weights, was enlarged and ready to burst any moment. His +spleen also was greatly dilated and ready to burst--in fact, it was +not at all clear whether after such a long run--three miles in such +heat--he would not have dropped dead anyway. Such cases were of daily +occurrence, too numerous to mention. The slight blow he had +received--a mere push as defendant had stated under oath--was probably +nothing more than a mere unfortunate coincidence. + +Such being the evidence, and the courts being administered by +Europeans, and there being no doubt whatever of the quality of justice +administered by Europeans in their own behalf, it is not surprising +that Rivers was acquitted. The verdict returned was, Accidental death +due to rupture of the spleen, caused by over-exertion. Rivers was a +good deal shaken, however, when he stepped out of the courtroom, into +the hot, bright sunshine, and received the congratulations of his +friends. He had heard so many disgusting medical details of the havoc +caused by rickshaw pulling, that he resolved to be very careful in +future about hitting these impudent, good-for-nothing swine. + +Amongst the crowd in the courtroom, but practically unnoticed, sat +Liu, son of the late Kwong. The proceedings being in English, he was +unable to follow them, but he knew enough to realise that the slayer +of his father was being tried. Presumably his life was at stake, as +was befitting under the circumstances. Therefore his surprise was +great when the outcome of the case was explained to him by a Chinese +friend who understood English, and his astonishment, if such it may be +called, was still more intense upon seeing Rivers walk out of the +courtroom receiving congratulatory handshakes as he passed. To the +ignorant mind of the young Chinese, Rivers was being felicitated for +having committed murder. He was unable to draw any fine distinctions, +or to understand that these congratulations were not intended for +Rivers personally, but because his acquittal strengthened established +precedents. Precedents that rendered unassailable the status of the +ruling race. Liu was therefore filled with an overmastering and bitter +hatred of Rivers, and had he realised what the acquittal stood for, +would probably have been filled with an equally intense hatred for the +dominant race in general. Not understanding that, however, he +concentrated his feelings upon Rivers, and resolved to bring him to +account in accord with simpler, less civilized standards. + +Within two months, the Temple Hotel was finished and ready for use. +Much foreign furniture had been sent up from Shanghai, and Rivers and +his wife also removed themselves to the up-river town and set about +their business. Rivers was glad to leave Shanghai; he had had enough +of it, since his unlucky episode, and was glad to bury himself in the +comparative obscurity of the interior. Life resumed itself smoothly +once again, and he prospered exceedingly. + +His attitude towards the natives, however, was more domineering than +ever, now that he had recovered from the unpleasant two weeks that +preceded his trial. These two weeks had been more uncomfortable than +he liked to think about, but safely away from the scene of the +disturbance, he became more abusive, more brutal than ever in his +attitude towards the Chinese. His servants horribly feared him, yet +did his bidding with alacrity. The reputation of a man who could kill +when he chose, with impunity, stood him in good stead. Liu, the son of +Kwong, followed him up-river and obtained a place in his household as +pidgeon-cook, assistant to number-one cook. Rivers failed to recognize +his new servant, and at such times as he encountered him, was +delighted with the servile attitude of the youth, and called him "Son +of a Turtle" which is the worst insult in the Chinese language. + +Liu bided his time, for time is of no moment in the Orient. His hatred +grew from day to day, but he continued to wait. He wished to see +Rivers thoroughly successful, at the height of his career, before +calling him to account. Since he would have to pay for his revenge +with his life--not being a European--he determined that a white man at +the top of his pride would be a more fitting victim than one who had +not yet climbed the ladder. Such was his simple reasoning. Under his +long blue coat there hung a long, thin knife, whetted to razor +sharpness on both edges. + +Summer came again, and the blazing heat of mid-China, lay over the +land. Mrs. Rivers went north to join her children, and the number of +guests in the hotel diminished to two or three. Business and tourists +came to a standstill during these scorching weeks, and Rivers finally +went down to Shanghai for a few days' jollification. He left his +affairs in the hands of the shroff, the Chinese accountant, who could +be trusted to manage them for a short time. + +He returned unexpectedly one night about eleven o'clock, quite drunk. +The few guests had retired and the hotel was closed. At the gate, the +watchman lay asleep beside his lantern, and when Rivers let himself in +with his key, he found Liu in the lounge, also asleep. He cursed Liu, +but submitted to the steady, supporting arm which the boy place around +his waist, and was led to bed without difficulty. Liu assisted his +master to undress, folding up the crumpled, white linen clothes with +silver buttons, and laying them neatly across a chair. He was an +excellent servant. Then he retired from the room, listening outside +the door till he heard sounds of heavy, stertorous breathing. At that +moment, the contempt of the Chinese for the dominant race was even +greater than Rivers' contempt for the inferior one. + +When the proprietor's breathing had assumed reassuring proportions, +Liu opened the door cautiously, and stepped lightly into the room. He +then locked it with equal caution, slipped quietly across to the +verandah, and passed out through the long, wide-open windows. The +verandah was a dozen feet from the ground, and the dark passage below, +leading to the gate, was deserted. At the other end sat the watchman +with his lantern, presumably asleep. Liu had not heard his drum tap +for an hour. A shaft of moonlight penetrated the room, and a light +wind blowing in from outside gently stirred the mosquito curtains over +the bed. Liu tiptoed to the bed, and with infinite care drew the +netting aside and stood surveying his victim. Rivers lay quite still +with arms outstretched, fat and bloated, breathing with hoarse, +blowing sounds, quite repulsive. The moonlight was sufficient to +enable Liu to see the dark outline upon the bed, and to gauge where +he would strike. He hovered over his victim, exultant, prolonging from +minute to minute this strange, new feeling of power and dominance. +That was what it meant to be a white man--to feel this feeling +always--always--all one's life, not merely for a few brief, +exhilarating moments! And with that feeling of power and dominance was +the ability to inflict pain, horrible, frightful pain. That also was +part of the white man's heritage, this ability to inflict pain and +suffering at will. And after that, death. Liu also had the power to +inflict death. Leaning over the bed, with the long, keen knife in his +steady clutch, he was for those glorious moments the equal of the +white man! He prolonged his sensations breathlessly--this sense of +superb power, this superb ability to inflict humiliation, pain and +death. + +A mosquito lit on Rivers' blotched cheek, and he raised a heavy arm to +brush it away. Then he relaxed again with a snore. Liu paused, +waiting. The glorious exaltation was mounting higher. It occurred to +him to sharpen these sensations, to heighten them. After all, he was +about to kill a drunken man in a drunken sleep. He wanted something +better. He wanted to feel his power over a conscious man, a man +conscious and aware of what was to befall him. Even as his father had +been conscious and aware of what was befalling him, even as thousands +of his countrymen were awake and aware, knowing what was being done to +them--by the dominant race. He wished Rivers awake and aware. It +involved greater risk, but it was worth it. Therefore, with the point +of his sharp, keen knife, he gently prodded the throat of the sleeper, +lying supine before him under the moon rays. Gently, very gently, he +prodded the exposed throat, placed the point of his knife very gently +upon his heaving, corded larynx, which pulsed inward and outward under +the heaving, stertorous breaths. Gently he stimulated the corded, +puffing throat, gently, with the point of his sharp knife. + +The result was as he wished. First Rivers stirred, moved a restless +arm, flopped an impotent, heavy arm that fell back upon the pillow, an +arm that failed to reach its objective, to quell the tickling, cold +point prodded into his throat. Then as he slowly grew conscious, the +movements of the arm became more coordinated. Into his drunken mind +came the fixed sensation of a disturbance at his throat. He became +conscious, opened a heavy eye, and fixed it upon Liu, without at the +same time feeling the pressing point at his throat. Liu saw his +returning consciousness, and leaning over him, pressed upon his +throat, ever so lightly, the point of his long knife. Thus for a +moment or two they regarded each other, Liu having the advantage. But +so it had always been. Having the advantage was one of the attributes +of the dominant race. Thus for those few brief seconds, Liu +experienced the whole glory of it. And as little by little Rivers +emerged from the drunken to the conscious, to the abjectly, cravenly +conscious, so Liu mounted to the heights. + +Then he saw that Rivers was about to cry out. To let forth a roaring +bellow, a howling bellow. Enough. He had tasted the whole of it. He +had felt, for prolonged and glorious moments, the feelings of the +superior race. Therefore he drove home, silently, his sharp, keen +knife, and stifled the mad bellow that was about to be let forth. +After which, he crept very cautiously to the balcony, and peered +anxiously up and down the dark alleyway beneath. He lowered himself +with infinite caution over the railing. He had become once more the +cringing Oriental. + + + + +HOMESICK + + + + +III + +HOMESICK + + +A Chinese gentleman, with his arms tucked up inside the brocaded +sleeves of his satin coat, stood one day with one foot in China and +the other upon European soil. From time to time he bore with alternate +weight upon the right foot, on Chinese soil, and then upon the left +foot, upon European soil, and his mental attitude shifted from right +to left accordingly. The foot upon Chinese soil reflected upward to +his brain the restriction of Chinese laws, the breaking of which were +accompanied by heavy penalties. The foot upon European soil reassured +him as to his ability to indulge himself, with no penalties +whatsoever. Therefore, after balancing himself for a few moments first +upon this foot, then upon that, he gave way to his inclinations and +resolved to indulge them. In certain matters, Europeans were more +liberal than Chinese. + +From this you will see that he had been standing with one foot in +China, where opium traffic was prohibited, where heavy fines were +attached to opium smoking and to opium buying, where heavy jail +sentences were imposed upon those who smoked or bought opium, while +the other foot, planted upon the ground of the Foreign Concession, +assured him of his absolute freedom to buy opium in any quantity he +chose, and to smoke himself to a standstill in an opium den licensed +under European auspices. In his saner moments, when not under the +influence of the drug, he resented the European occupation of certain +parts of Chinese territory, but when his craving for opium +occurred--which it did with great frequency--he was delighted to +realise that there were certain parts of China not under the authority +of the drastic laws of China, which laws prohibited with such drastic +and heavy penalties the indulgences he craved. Therefore he swayed +himself backwards and forwards for a space, first upon this foot, then +upon that, and finally withdrew both feet into the Foreign Concession, +and directed his steps to a shop where opium was sold under European +influence. The shop was capacious but dark. He stated his requirements +and they were measured out to him--a large keg was withdrawn from its +place on a shelf, and a gentle Chinese, clad, like himself, in satin +brocade, dug into the contents of the keg with a ladle and withdrew +from it a black, molasses-like substance, which ran slowly and gummily +from the ladle into the small silver box which the customer had +produced. The box finally filled, with some of the gummy, black +contents running over the edges, our gentleman withdrew himself, +having accomplished his purpose. Tucked into the security of his belt, +it was impossible to detect the contraband as he again stepped over +the boundary line which separated Chinese from European soil. + +Half an hour after our Chinese gentleman had stepped across the +boundary line into the native city, with a large supply of opium +concealed in his belt, part of which he would retail to certain +friends who had not time enough to run across into the European +concession to buy it for themselves, a young Englishman stood, by +curious coincidence, upon the same spot recently occupied by the +Chinese. He also stood with one foot upon Chinese soil, with the +other upon the soil of the Foreign Concession, and regretted, with +considerable vehemence, that at this dividing line his efforts must +cease. He had been pursuing, for perhaps a mile, the proprietor of a +certain gambling den, whom he wished to apprehend. But at the boundary +line, which the Chinese had reached before him, his prey had escaped. +He was off somewhere, safe in the devious lanes and burrows of the +native city. Therefore he stood baffled, and finally made his way back +into the Settlement, along the quais, and finally reached his rooms. +He pondered somewhat over the situation. That which was permitted on +Chinese territory, was prohibited in the foreign holdings--and the +reverse. It just depended whether you were on this side the line or +that, as to whether or not you were a lawbreaker. Morality appeared +arbitrary, determined by geographical lines--a matter of dollars and +cents. Lawson walked slowly along the Bund, turning the matter over in +his rather limited mind. Take the opium business, he considered. The +Chinese considered it harmful, and wished to abolish it. Very good. +Yet the Foreign Concessions made money out of it and insisted upon +selling it. + +Take another example, he reflected--gambling, his job. Or rather, his +job was the suppression of gambling--in the foreign holdings. The +Chinese considered it harmless, a matter of individual inclination. +Very good. But the foreigners considered it a vice, and he, Lawson, +was appointed to run to earth Chinese fan-tan houses, in the +Concession, and suppress them. Yet his own people, the foreigners, +gambled freely and uproariously in their own establishments--at the +races, and at certain houses which they maintained for their pleasure. +True, these houses were not in the Concession--for some reason the +foreigners had set their face against gambling in the Concession--yet +they maintained their establishments, their showy and luxurious +establishments, outside the Concession and upon Chinese soil. They +must pay a handsome squeeze for the privilege. Yet it was difficult to +reconcile. What was right and wrong, anyway? What was moral or +immoral, anyway? Lawson, of very limited intelligence, walked along, +sorely puzzled. Sauce for the goose, sauce for the gander--well, two +very different kinds of sauces, composed of very different +ingredients, as far as he could see. Lawson, being a young man of +limited intelligence, was greatly puzzled. He had been greatly +bothered over this for a long time. It began to look to him--very +vaguely--as if morality was not an abstract but a concrete affair. + +Just then he passed an opium shop, and considered again. That surely +was a nasty game, yet his Government encouraged it--and made money +from it. But the Chinese, on their side of the boundary line, were +doing their best to suppress it. It was very difficult for them to +make headway, however, since opium shops flourished and were +encouraged by the foreign concessions, over which the Chinese had no +control. Topsy turvy, anyway. No wonder a person like Lawson was +unable to understand it. It all resolved itself into a question of +money, after all. For after all, money was the main object of life, +whether on the part of an individual or of a government. And since all +governments were composed of individuals, and reflected the ideas of +individuals, there you were! + +By this time, young Lawson had become quite bored with life in the Far +East. The romance was gone and it offered so little variety. One day +was so like another, and every day, winter and summer, it was the same +thing or the same sorts of things, and there was an intense sameness +about it all. By day he did his work--that goes without saying--one +has to work in the Far East, that is what one comes out to do. +Otherwise, why come? Unless one is a tourist or a missionary, or a +buyer of Chinese antiques, or has had an overwhelming desire to write +a book upon international politics, a desire springing from the depths +of gross ignorance. But after all, why not such a book? It reaches, if +it reaches at all, a public still less informed, and misinformation is +as valuable as no information at all, when we desire to interfere with +the destiny of the Chinese. In his leisure moments, Lawson had tried +his hand at such a book--until he suddenly realised that he had been +in the Orient too long to make it a success. He knew just a trifle too +much about affairs, and found himself setting forth facts which would +lead to his undoing, as a minor official in the International +Settlement--if he gave them publicity. He could not afford to lose his +position. And he was by no means sure that the deep, unerring sense of +justice, the innate instinct of the masses, would rally to his +support. He had his own opinion of the ruling classes, but he trusted +the masses still less. + +It was a biting cold night, with a high wind from the north howling +down the long streets and whipping the waters of the harbour into a +fury. Junks strained at their anchors, tossed and heaved, and now and +then one broke loose from its moorings and wandered about adrift, +spreading infinite terror amongst the owners of other junks, who +feared for their safety. A cruiser or two lay in the roads, and the +French mail, and two or three Japanese cargo-boats, and half a dozen +tramp ships from the China Coast, but none of these were unduly +buffeted by the gale, which only created havoc among the junks and +sampans. Lawson's lodgings overlooked the harbour, and he laid down +his pen and moved from the table to the dark window, trying in vain to +see what was going on without. Below, the long line of the quais was +outlined by long rows of electric lights, swaying and tossing from +their poles, and illuminating the shining, wet asphalt of the Bund. He +was very, very tired of it all. So many years he had been out, and the +same monotonous round must be gone through with, over and over again, +day after day--until he made money enough to return home. And as a +salaried clerk, a court runner, whose duty it was to enforce the laws +against gambling in the Settlement, that day seemed very far distant +indeed. Whenever he heard of a fan-tan place--and he heard of them +every day--he must investigate, see that it was closed and the +keepers, if he was lucky enough to catch them, duly punished. And the +players as well. Now to eradicate gambling from amongst the Chinese is +a difficult task, futile and ridiculous, a good waste of time and +money. He wondered why his Government should attempt it. Foolish thing +for his Government to do--yet what would become of Lawson if the +undertaking were abolished? Taste tea, probably--apprentice himself to +some tea merchant, and learn all the nasty role of tea spitting. From +which you will see that Lawson was squeamish about some things, and +did not envy those of his friends who had become tea tasters, and who +moved all day up and down a long table, filled with rows of stupid +little cups, with an attendant China boy forever shoving a cuspidor +from one advanced position to another. And if not a tea taster, then +some commercial house would absorb his energies, which would be worse +still--close at his elbow a spectacled Chinese clicking all day upon a +dirty little abacus,--checking him up, keeping tabs on him. + +No, the work he had was better. But he was so tired of it. He leaned +himself against the dripping, cold pane, and regarded the lights +below, shining on the wet asphalt of the quais. He was thirty years +old and ten years in the East had about done for him. The East does, +for many people. Yes, he reflected bitterly, it had about done for +him. It undermines people, in some mysterious manner, and in Lawson's +case there had been so little to undermine. He had little imagination, +and could never imagine the larger possibilities of life, and what he +had missed, therefore the undermining of his character was of small +account. He was only conscious of an intense boredom, and to-night +the boredom was accentuated, because of the weather. He was too inert +to splash about in such a driving rain in quest of a friend more weary +than himself. + +If he could just get out of it all! By which, understand, he had not +the adventurous spirit of the beach-comber, the adventurer who combs +pleasure and profits from the ports of the China Coast. He wasn't that +sort. He had no desire to take a sampan and row out to the nearest +cargo-boat and ship away to the Southern Seas, and sink himself in +romance north or south of the Line. No, the mystery of the East, the +romance of foreign lands made no appeal to him. And the everlasting +monotony of his daily work, of his daily association with his few +wearied friends, clerks and suchlike, all minor and unimportant cogs +of the big machine overseas, offered him nothing. Very decidedly he +was homesick. But his tired mind came upon a blank wall--he had no +home to be homesick for. Nothing compelling, nothing to return to--all +broken up long ago, such as it was, long before he had come out to the +Orient. Yet he was longing for the sight of his native land again. +Yes, that was it--just the familiar sight of it. It offered him +nothing in the way of tie or kin, yet he was longing to see it again, +just his own native land. He was exiled in China--and he was exiled at +Home, when you got down to it--but to-night his home land drew him +with overwhelming insistence. + +What can you do, I'd like to know, when you are like this? Along the +outskirts of the Settlement stood big houses, cheerful with lights, +with home life, with all that the successful ones had brought out from +Home, to establish Home in the Orient. But Lawson had nothing to do +with these, with all the pompous, successful ones, who ignored him +completely and were unaware of his existence. They were all superior +to him, with the superiority that new-found money brings, and they +looked down upon him as a cheap court runner, told off to round up the +fan-tan playing Chinese. You see, Lawson was common--he had sprung +from nothing and was nothing. But these others, these successful ones, +they too had sprung from nothing, but out here in the Orient they had +become important. Through the possession of certain qualities which +Lawson did not possess, they had become large and prominent in the +community. They referred to themselves, among each other, as "younger +sons." Which left one to infer that they were of distinguished +lineage. But Lawson knew better, and knew it with great bitterness. +Like himself, they were indeed "younger sons"--of greengrocers. +Therefore, for that reason perhaps, they went home seldom, for at home +they were nobodies. Whereas out here--oh, out here, by reason of +certain qualities which Lawson did not possess, they were important +and pompous, and lived in big houses, with lights and guests and +servants and motors. Therefore Lawson resented them, because they +thought he was common. And he was common, he admitted bitterly, but so +were they. Only they were successful, by reason of certain qualities +which he did not possess. They ignored him, and left him alone in the +community, and it is never very good to be too much alone, especially +in the Far East. True, they provided him with his job--with his +wretchedly paid little Government job, which they maintained for no +altruistic or moral reasons. To suppress gambling amongst the +Chinese? Perhaps. Incidentally, on the surface, it looked well. Looked +well, he considered, coming from those who never helped the Chinese in +anything else. Who exploited them, in all possible ways, and +undermined them--undermined the Chinese who were pretty well done for +anyway, by nature, being Chinese. No, he reflected savagely--he had +heard the story--one night some big personage living in one of the big +houses, to which he was never invited--had given a big dinner, with +much wine and fine food and many guests and all the rest of it--and +what happened? No servants, or rather many servants without liveries +or clothing of any kind, everything having been pawned the evening +before over the fan-tan tables. Therefore he, Lawson, was employed by +Government to suppress these gambling houses, to keep the servants +from stealing and pawning their liveries, making embarrassment in the +big, foreign-style houses, making amusement and consternation and +scandal. He had happened along shortly after this affair, and so +obtained the appointment. + +Lawson leaned his forehead against the cold glass, down which the rain +poured in sheets. The lights of the French mail glimmered +intermittently through the darkness--to-morrow she would weigh anchor +and be off for Marseilles, for Home. Not that he had a home, as we +have said, but he longed for the familiar look of things, for the +crowds all speaking his own tongue, for the places he knew, the well +known street signs, and the big hoardings. And he couldn't go back. He +had not money enough to go back. Every penny of his little salary went +for living expenses and living comes high in China. To say nothing of +the passage money and the money for afterwards---- A gentle cough +behind him made him turn round in a hurry. His China-boy stood +expectantly in the doorway. + +"What is it?" demanded Lawson sharply. Ah Chang drew in his breath, +not wishing to breathe upon his superior. The indrawn, hissing noise +irritated Lawson immensely. He had been out ten years, and in that +time had never learned that Ah Chang and the others were showing him +respect, deep proofs of Oriental respect, when they sucked in their +breath with that hissing noise, to avoid breathing upon a superior. To +Lawson it was just another horrid trait, another horrid native +characteristic. + +"Man come see Master," observed Ah Chang, addressing space +impersonally. "Heap plenty important business. You see?" + +Anything for a change this dreary evening. "Very well," said Lawson, +"I see." + +In a moment or two, a tall Chinese shuffled into the room, bowing +repeatedly with hands on knees. After which he passed his long slim +hands up into the sleeves of his satin coat, and waited quietly till +the boy withdrew. He gave a swift look about the room, a glance so +hurried that it seemed impossible he could have satisfied himself that +they were alone, and then began to speak. Lawson recognised him at +once as the keeper of a house he had raided the week before, a big, +crowded place, where the police had captured a score of players and +much money. It was an important haul, a notorious den, that they had +been after for a long time. Only it changed its location so often, +moved from place to place each night, or so it seemed, that Lawson had +spent months trying to find it. It is not easy finding such places in +the crowded, native streets of the Concession, and he had stumbled +upon it by a piece of sheer luck. And the proprietor had been heavily +fined and heavily warned, yet here he stood to-night, silent, +respectful, hands up his sleeves, waiting. For once in his life, +Lawson's imagination worked. He foresaw something portentous looming +in the background of that impenetrable mind, revealed in the steady, +unblinking stare of those slanting Chinese eyes, fixed steadily and +fearlessly and patiently upon his. + +"Sit down," he commanded, with a sweep of his hand towards an upright +chair. + + * * * * * + +After his visitor had departed, Lawson stood lost in thought. He was +not angry, yet he should have been, he realised. Assuredly he should +have been angry, assuredly he should have kicked his visitor +downstairs. But as it was, he remained in deep thought, pondering over +a suggestion that had been made to him. The suggestion, stripped of +certain Oriental qualities of flowery phraseology and translated from +pidgin-English into business English, was the merest, most vague hint +of an exchange of favours. So slight was the hint, but so +overwhelming the possibilities suggested, that, as we have said, +Lawson had not kicked his visitor downstairs, but remained standing +lost in thought for several moments after his departure. As he had +stood earlier in the day, with one foot in the Foreign Concession, and +the other on Chinese soil, considering the different standards that +obtained in each, so he stood now, figuratively, on the boundary line +of an ethical problem and swayed mentally first towards one side and +then the other. The irony of it, the humour of it, appealed to him. It +seemed so insanely just--just what you might expect. He had been +asked--that was too definite a word--to forego his activities for a +few brief weeks. And during those few brief weeks he could repay +himself, week by week, on Friday nights---- + +He had been merely asked--too strong a word--the suggestion had been +merely hinted at--he balanced himself back and forth over the problem. +If his efforts during the next few weeks should prove fruitless, +possible enough, considering the wily race he was dealing with----And +in exchange, well, once a week on Friday night, he could slip outside +the boundaries of the Concession to a large, foreign gambling house +kept by and for his own people. By his own people, the Europeans, who +employed him to eradicate gambling from amongst the Chinese. Do you +wonder that he shifted himself back and forth, morally, first from +this point of view, then to that? His own people who objected to +gaming, when it involved the loss of their servants' liveries. But +they had no such scruples when it came to their own pleasure. +Therefore, for their own pleasure, careless of the inconsistency, they +had established a very fine place of their own just outside the +boundaries of the foreign Concession. Lawson had heard of the place +before--the most famous, the most notorious on the China Coast. Kept +by the son of a parson, so he had been told, a University graduate. +Once, ten years ago, he had gone there and lost a month's pay in an +evening. But now it was to be different. He could go there now, every +Friday night, and reap the reward of his inability to discover Chinese +dens within the Concession. + +For nearly an hour he remained undecided, then determined to test the +offer made him--but offer was too strong a word. And his salary was +so meagre, so abominably small. And the people in the big houses would +have none of him, they never invited him, he was left so alone, to +himself. He was intensely homesick. Therefore, still on the boundary +line, he went to the telephone and called up a certain number. In a +confident manner he asked for a limousine. After which he got into his +overcoat, muffled himself up well around the ears and nose, for the +air outside was cold with a biting north wind, and the rain still +drove slantwise in torrents. In a few moments Ah Chang announced that +the calliage had come. + +Round the earner from his lodgings on a side street and in darkness, +stood a big car with the motor puffing violently. It was a big, +handsome car, very long, and on the front seat sat two men in livery, +one of whom jumped down briskly to open the door. Lawson entered and +sank down into the soft cushions, for it was very luxurious. Then the +car moved on briskly, without any directions from himself, and he +leaned back upon the cushions and took pleasure in the luxury of it, +and of the two men in livery upon the front seat, and enjoyed the +pouring rain which dashed upon the glass, yet left him so dry and +comfortable within. "They will only think it's inconsistent--that's +all," he said to himself, "if they ever find out--which is unlikely." + +Beyond the confines of the Settlement the motor rapidly made its way, +slipping noiselessly over the smooth, wet asphalt, and then out along +the bumpy roads beyond the city limits. All was dark now, the street +lamps having been left behind with the ending of the good roads, and +the car jolted along slowly, over deep ruts. A stretch of open country +intervened between the Settlement and a native village of clustering +mud huts. Lawson, having no imagination, was not impressed with his +position. People did all sorts of things in China, just as +elsewhere--only here, in China, it was so much easier to get away with +it. His coming to-night might be considered inconsistent, he repeated +over and over to himself, but nothing more. Every one did it, he +reassured himself. + +The car stopped finally, before a pair of high, very solid black +gates, and the footman jumped off the box to open the door. He was +conscious of a small grill with a yellow face peeping out, backed by +flickering lantern light, of a rainy, windswept compound, with a shaft +of light from an open door flooding the courtyard. Then he was inside +a warm, bright anteroom, with an obsequious China-boy relieving him of +overcoat and muffler, and he became aware of many big, fur-lined +overcoats, hanging on pegs on the wall. Beyond, in the adjoining room, +were two long tables, the players seated with their backs to him, +absorbed. Only a few people were present, for the night was early. +There was no one there he knew--even had there been, he would not have +cared. He drew out a chair and seated himself confidently, while a +China-boy pushed a box of cigars towards him, a very good brand. And +behind came another boy with a tray of whisky and soda, while a third +boy carried sandwiches. It was all very well done, he thought +absently. The proprietor, being a parson's son and a University +graduate, did it very well. There was no disorder, it was all +beautifully done. He wondered what amount of squeeze the Chinese +received, for allowing such a fine place to remain undisturbed on +Chinese soil. A very big squeeze, certainly. They would surely be very +grasping, considering the warfare waged against them, upon their own +establishments, by the Europeans. It was all very interesting. Lawson +considered the matter critically, from various angles, knowing what he +knew. He sorted his chips carefully. It must pay the parson's son +well, he concluded, to be able to run such a fine place, in such +style, with so much to eat and drink and all, and with all those +motors to carry out the guests. All this in addition to the +squeeze--it must really be an enormous squeeze. And the people for +whose amusement this was established, were the people who were +employing him---- + +For a brief, fleeting second his eye rested upon the calm, +unquestioning face of the Chinese at the wheel, brother of the +proprietor of the fan-tan place he had raided a week ago. The placid +eye of the Oriental fixed his for the fraction of a second, even as he +called out the winning numbers. There was no recognition either way, +yet Lawson felt himself flushing. The wheel spun again and slowly +stopped, and he found himself gathering in thirty-five chips, raking +them in with eager fingers over the green cloth. It was all right +then, after all! + + * * * * * + +Lawson was going home. Speaking about this, some said, Well enough--he +has become quite incompetent of late. Getting stale, probably. Unable +to discover the obvious, losing his keenness. Ten years in the Far +East about does for one. But with Lawson, the situation was different. +He had become so tired of boundary lines, of perpetual swaying back +and forth from one side to the other, without conviction. Geographical +and moral concessions, wrong here, right there, had blurred his sense +of the abstract. All he was conscious of was an overwhelming desire to +leave it all and go home. And now he was going home. He was very glad. +It hurt to be so glad. He was going away from China, forever. He was +going back to his own land, where he was born, where he belonged, even +though there was no one to welcome his return. There was no roof to +receive him save an attic roof, rented for a few shillings a week. For +though he had plenty of money now, he still thought in small sums. He +was glad to be going home--the joy was painful. His chief praised him +a little at parting, and said he had done good work and hoped his +successor would do as well. Regretted his departure at this moment, +since that old fellow who kept such a notorious den was breaking loose +again, more villainous, more elusive than ever. Lawson heard this with +astonishment, with infinite regret. Wished he could have stayed to see +it ended. + +He was going home. It hurt to be so glad. In all these years he had +been so utterly lonely, so utterly miserable. His few companions came +down to the landing stage on the Bund to see him off, to wish him +luck. They were rather wistful, for they also knew loneliness. They +had tried to forget about this longing for home in the many ways of +forgetfulness that the East offered, nevertheless they were wistful. +Lawson understood, he felt great pity for them. He advised them to get +away before they were done for, for the East does for many people in +the long run. The launch, waiting to take him down river where the +steamer lay anchored, grated against the steps of the landing stage, +as if eager to be off. + +"I wish," said one of his friends, "that we had your luck--that we +too were going home." + +Lawson's heart ached for them. He had experience but no imagination. +"Yes," he said simply, "it is very good to be going Home." + + + + +CIVILIZATION + + + + +IV + +CIVILIZATION + + +I + +Maubert leaned against the counter in his wine-shop, reading a paper +that had just come to him--an official looking paper, which he held +unsteadily, unwillingly, and which trembled a little between his big, +thick fingers. Behind the counter sat Madame Maubert, knitting. Before +her, ranged neatly on the zinc covered shelf, was a row of inverted +wine glasses, three of them still dripping, having been washed after +the last customers by a hasty dip into a bucket of cold water. + +"Mobilised," said Maubert slowly. "I am mobilised--at last." Madame +Maubert looked up from her knitting. For a year now they had both been +expecting this, for the war had been going on for over a year, and +Maubert, while over age and below par in physical condition, was still +a man and as such likely to be called into the reserves. The two +exchanged glances. + +"When?" asked Madame Maubert, resuming her clicking. + +"At once, imbecile," replied her husband stolidly. "Naturally," he +continued, "when one is at last sent for, there can be no delay. I +must report at once." + +"Oh, la la," said Madame Maubert, noncommittally. + +Maubert glanced round his shop, his little wine-shop, his lucrative +little business that he had made successful. Very well. His wife must +run it alone now, as best she could. As best she could, that was +evident. She could do many things well. She must do it now while he +went forth into service of some kind--into a munition factory +probably, or perhaps near the front, as orderly to an officer, or as +sentinel, perhaps, along some road in the First Zone of the Armies. He +would not be placed on active service--he was too old for that. +Nevertheless it meant a horrid jarring out of his usual routine of +life, consequently he was angry and resentful, and there was no fine +glow of pride or patriotism or such-like feeling in his breast. Bah! +All that sort of thing had vanished from men long and long ago, after +the first few bitter weeks of war and of realisation of the meaning of +war. War was now an affair--a sordid, ugly affair, and Maubert knew it +as well as any man. Living in his backwater of a village, keeper of +the principal wine-shop of the village, his zinc counter rang every +night under emphatic fists, emphasising emphatic remarks about the +war, and the remarks were true but devoid of romance. They differed +considerably from the tone of the daily press. + +From the kitchen beyond came the clattering of dishes, and some +talking in immature, childish voices, and the insistent, piping tones +of a quite young child. They were all in there, all four of them, the +eldest twelve, the youngest four, and Maubert and his wife leaned +across the zinc counter and looked at each other. + +"It is your fault," he said slowly, with conviction. His eyes, deep +set, ugly, sunken, glared angrily into hers. "It is your fault that I +am mobilised." + +She sat still, rather bewildered, gazing at him steadily. "You wished +it!" he began again, "You coward! You trembling coward!" + +Still Madame Maubert made no sign, waiting further explanations. She +laid down her knitting and took her elbows in her hands, and by +gripping her elbows firmly, stopped the trembling he spoke of. + +"You don't understand, eh?" he went on sneeringly. "Always thinking of +yourself, of your pretty figure, how to keep yourself always here at +the bar, pretty and attractive, ready to gossip with all comers. +Nothing must interrupt that. You'd done your share, all that was +necessary. And I--poor fool--I let you! I didn't insist--I gave +in----" + +"You wish to say----?" began Madame Maubert at last, breaking her +silence. + +"Yes! To say just that!" burst out Maubert. "Just that--you coward! +When you might have--when you might have--made _this_ out of the +question for me." He shook his order for mobilisation. Again there was +a noise from the kitchen, again the sound of many young voices, and +one voice that ended in a cry, an irritated, angry, querulous howl. + +"I see," said Madame Maubert slowly, "five instead of four--five +would have made it safe for you--eh? I didn't think of that--at the +time." + +"Of your own self at the time--as always!" ground out Maubert, very +angry. He was a very big man, of the bully type, with a red neck that +swelled under his anger, or on the occasions when he had taken too +much red wine--which meant that it swelled very often and made him a +great brute, and his wife disliked him, and tried to put the zinc +counter between them or anything else that gave shelter. + +"You selfish coward!" he cried out again, and slammed his fist down, +and then raised it again and shook it at her, "You could have saved me +from this--this--being mobilised----! Five instead of four! Five +instead of four! Then I would have been exempt, no matter what +happened! You contemptible----" + +He struck at his wife, but missed her. The doorway darkened and two +soldiers entered, limping. + +"My husband is mobilised," exclaimed Madame Maubert quickly. "His +country needs him--he is rather elevated in consequence! Doubtless he +will be of the auxiliaries, where there is less danger. Discomfort, +perhaps, but less danger. Nevertheless he is regretful," she concluded +scornfully. The simple soldiers, home on leave, laughed uproariously. +They placed a few sous upon the counter and asked for wine, and drank +to Maubert solicitously. Then they all drank together, to one +another's good fortune, and to La Patrie. + + +II + +Maubert was at the Front. Near it, that is, but in the First Zone of +the Armies and shut off from communication with the rear. He was shut +off from communication with his wife and family, isolated in a little +hut standing by the roadside, his sentry box. A little box of straw +standing upright on the roadside, and with just enough room for him +inside, also standing upright. No more. Whenever he heard the whir of +a motor coming down the road, he opened his front door and stood +squarely in the middle of the roadway, waving a red flag by day or a +lantern by night, and expecting, both night and day, to be run down +and killed by the onrushing motor. He flagged the ambulances and got +cursed for it. He flagged the General's car and got cursed for it. +Impossible pieces of paper were shoved out to him to read, filled with +unintelligible hieroglyphics, which he could not read, which he made a +vain pretence of reading and then concluded were all right. After +which the car or the ambulance dashed on again, and he communed with +himself within his hut, wondering whether the car was carrying a +uniformed spy, or whether the ambulance was carrying a spy hidden +under its brown wings, beneath the seat somewhere. It was all so +perplexing and precarious, this business of sentry duty. The papers +issued by the D.E.S. were so illegible. Sometimes they were blue, +sometimes pink, and the remarks written on them were such that no one +could understand or know what they were about. People had the right to +circulate by this road or that--and when they were trying to circulate +by a route not specified in the blue or pink paper, they always +explained glibly that it was because they had missed the way, and made +the wrong turning. It was all so perplexing. Whenever he stopped their +cars, the General was always so furiously impatient, and the +ambulance drivers were always so furiously impatient, and one asked +you if you did not respect the Army of France, and the other if you +did not respect the wounded of France, if you had no pity for them, +and must delay them--altogether it was very perplexing. Maubert always +had the impression that if he failed in his duties, if he let through +a general who wore stripes and medals galore, yet who was a spy +general, that he would be courtmartialed and shot. Or if he let +through an ambulance full of wounded--apparently--yet with a spy +concealed in the body--that he would be courtmartialed and shot. +Always he had in his mind this fear of being courtmartialed and shot, +and it made him very nervous, and he did not like to tell people that +he could barely read and write. Very barely able to read and write, +and totally unable to read the hieroglyphics written on the pink and +blue papers issued down the road by Headquarters, at the D.E.S. He +felt that some one ought to know these facts about himself, these +extenuating circumstances, in case of trouble. Yet he hesitated to +give himself away. Bad as it was, there were worse jobs than sentry +duty. + +A little way down the road there was an _estaminet_, where he slept +when he could, where he spent his leisure hours, where he bought as +much wine as he could pay for. But his sentry box always confronted +him, which leaked when it rained, and the wind blew through it, and on +certain days, when there was much travel by the road, he hardly spent +a moment inside it but was always standing in the mud and wind of the +highway, waving his flag, and stopping impatient, snorting motors. And +always pretending that he could read the pink and blue papers, angrily +thrust out for his inspection. Too great a responsibility for one who +could barely read and write. + +Came the time, eventually, for his leave. Five days permission. One +day to get to Paris. One day from Paris to his province. One day in +his province at home with his wife. One day back to Paris, one day to +get back to his sentry box in the First Zone of the Armies. Not much +time, all considered. He bought a bottle of wine at the _estaminet_, +and got aboard the train for Paris. Somewhere along the route came a +long stop, and he bought another bottle of wine--forty centimes. +Another stop, and another bottle of wine. He thought much of his wife +during these long hours of the journey--thoughts augmented and made +glowing by three bottles of wine. She wasn't so bad, after all. + +The Gare Montparnasse was reached, and he got off, dizzily, to change +trains. He knew, vaguely, that to get to his province in the interior, +he must first somehow get to the Gare du Nord. There was a Metro +entrance somewhere about the Gare Montparnasse and he tried to find +it. The Metro would take him to the Gare du Nord. No good. Such crowds +of people all about, and they called him Mon Vieux, and pulled him +this way and that, laughing with him, offering him cigarettes and +happy comments, received by a brain in which three bottles of wine +were already fermenting. Thus it happened that he missed the Metro +entrance, and instead of finding a metro to take him to the Gare du +Nord, he missed the entrance, turned quite wrong, and walked up the +middle of the rue de la Gaiete. And because of the three bottles of +wine within him--entirely within his head--he walked light-heartedly +up the rue de la Gaiete, with his helmet tossed backwards on his +shaggy head, his heavy kit swinging in disordered fashion from his +shoulders, his mouth open, shouting meaningless things to the +passers-by, and his steps very short, jerky and unsteady. Thus it +happened, that many people, seeing him in this condition, shuddered, +and asked what France had come to, when she must place her faith in +such men as that. Other people, however, laughed at him, and made way +for him, or closed in on him and squeezed his arm, and whispered +things into his ears. Back and forth he ricochetted along the narrow +street, singing and swinging, mouth open, with strange, happy cries +coming from it. Some laughed and said what a pity, and others laughed +and said how perfectly natural and what could you expect. + +Presently down the street came a big, double decked tramcar, and +Maubert stood in front of the tramcar, refusing to give way. It should +have presented a blue paper to him--or a pink paper--anyway, there he +stood in front of it, asking for its permission to circulate, and as +it had no permission, it stopped within an inch of running over him, +while the conductor leaned forward shouting curses. Then it was that +a firm but gentle hand inserted itself within Maubert's arm, while a +firm but gentle voice asked Maubert to be a good boy and come with +her. Maubert was very dazed, and also perplexed that he had not +received a paper from the big, double-decked tramcar, which obviously +had no right to circulate without such permission, sanctioned by +himself. He was gently drawn off the tracks, by that unknown arm, +while the big tramcar proceeded on its way without permission. It was +all wrong, yet Maubert felt himself drawn to one side of the roadway, +felt himself still propelled along by that gentle but firm arm, and +looked to see who was leading him. He was quite satisfied by what he +saw. The three bottles of wine made him very uncritical, but they also +inflamed certain other faculties. To these other faculties his +befogged mind gave quick response. To Hell with the tramcar, papers or +no papers, pink or blue. Also, although not quite so emphatically, he +relinquished all thoughts of arriving at the Gare du Nord, and of +finding a train to take him home to his province, where his wife +lived. The reasons that made him desire his wife, were quite +satisfied with the gentle pressure on his arm. Thus it happened that +big Maubert, shaggy and dirty and drunk, reeling down the rue de la +Gaiete, very suddenly gave up all idea of finding his way to his +province in the interior. + +Never mind about those three days in Paris. Maubert was quite sober +when he got on the train again at Montparnasse. He did not regret his +larger vacation. He had had a very good permission, take it all in +all. + + +III + +At about the time that Maubert found himself mobilised and summoned +into the reserves, a further mobilisation of subjects of the French +Empire was taking place in certain little known, outlying dominions of +the "Empire." I should have said Republic or even Democracy. The +result, however, is all the same. In certain outlying portions of the +mighty Empire or Republic or Democracy, as you will, further +mobilisation of French subjects was taking place, although in these +outlying dominions the forces were not mobilised but volunteered. +That is to say, the headsman or chief of a certain village, lying +somewhere between the Equator and ten degrees North latitude, was +requested by those in authority to furnish so many volunteers. The +word being thus passed round, volunteers presented themselves, +voluntarily. Among them was Ouk. Ouk knew, having been so informed by +the headsman of his village, that failure to respond to this +opportunity meant a voluntary sojourn in the jungle. Ouk hated the +jungle. All his life he had lived in terror of it, of the evil forces +of the jungle, strangling and venomous, therefore he did not wish to +take refuge amongst them, for he knew them well. Of the two +alternatives, the risks of civilization seemed preferable. +Civilization was an unknown quantity, whereas the jungle was familiar +to himself and his ancestors, and the fear transmitted by his +ancestors was firmly emplanted in his mind. Therefore he had no +special desire to sojourn amongst the mighty forces of the forest, +which he knew to be overwhelming. At that time, he did not know that +the forces of civilization were equally sinister, equally +overwhelming. All his belated brain knew, was that if he failed to +answer the call of those in authority, he must take refuge in the +forests. Which was sure death. It was sure death to wander +defenceless, unarmed, in the twilight gloom of noon day, enveloped by +dense overgrowth, avoiding venomous serpents and vile stinging insects +by day, and crouching by night from man-eating tigers. It presented +therefore, no pleasant alternative--no free wandering amidst +beautiful, tropical trees and vines heavy with luscious fruits--there +would be no drinking from running streams in pleasant, sunlit +clearings. Ouk knew the jungle, and as the alternative was +civilization, he chose civilization which he did not yet know. +Therefore he freely offered himself one evening, coming from his +native village attired in a gay sarong, a peaked hat, and nothing +more. He entered a camp, where he found himself in company with other +volunteers, pressed into the service of civilization by the same +pressure that had so appealed to himself. There were several hundred +of them in this camp, all learning the ways of Europe, and learning +with difficulty and pain. The most painful thing, perhaps, were the +coarse leather shoes they were obliged to wear. Ouk's feet had been +accustomed to being bare--clad, on extreme occasions, with pliant +straw sandals. He garbed them now, according to instructions, in hard, +coarse leather shoes, furnished by those in authority, which they told +him would do much to protect his sensitive feet against the cold of a +French winter. Ouk had no ideas as to the rigours of a French winter, +but the heavy shoes were exceedingly painful. In exchange for his gay +sarong, they gave him a thick, ill fitting suit of khaki flannel, in +which he smothered, but this, they likewise explained to him, would do +much to protect him from the inclemency of French weather. Thus wound +up and bound up, and suffering mightily in the garb of European +civilization, Ouk gave himself up to learn how to protect it. The +alternative to this decision, being as we have said, an alternative +that he could not bring himself to face. + +Three months of training being accomplished, Ouk and his companions +were by that time fitted to go forth for the protection of great +ideals. They were the humble defenders of these ideals, and from time +to time the newspapers spoke in glowing terms, of their sentimental, +clamorous wish to defend them. Even in these remote, unknown regions, +somewhere between the Equator and ten degrees North latitude, +volunteers were pressing forward to uphold the high traditions of +their masters. Ouk and his companions knew nothing of these sonorous, +ringing phrases in the papers. They knew only of the alternative, the +jungle. Time came and the day came when they were all ushered forth +from their training camp, packed into a big junk, and released into +the stormy tossings of the harbour, there to await the arrival of the +French Mail, that was to convey them to Europe. The sun beat down hot +upon them, in their unaccustomed shoes and khaki, the harbour waves +tossed violently, and the French Mail was late. Eventually it arrived, +however, and they all scrambled aboard, passing along a narrow +gangplank from which four of them slipped and were drowned in the sea. +But four out of five hundred was a small matter, quite insignificant. + +When the French Mail arrived at Saigon, Ouk was able to replenish his +supply of betel nut and sirra leaves, buying them from coolies in +bobbing sampans, which sampans had been allowed to tie themselves to +the other side of the steamer. At Singapore also he bought himself +more betel nut and sirra leaves, but after leaving Singapore he was +unable to replenish his stock, and consequently suffered. Every one +with him, in that great company of volunteers, also suffered. It was +an unexpected deprivation. The ship ploughed along, however, the +officers taking small notice of Ouk and his kind--indeed, they only +referred to Ouk by number, for no one of those in authority could +possibly remember the outlandish names of these heathen. Nor did their +names greatly matter. + +Time passed, the long voyage was over, and Ouk landed at Marseilles. +In course of time he found himself placed in a small town in one of +the provinces, the very town from which Maubert had been released to +go to the Front. Thus it happened that there were as many men in that +town as had been taken away from it, only the colour and the race of +the men had changed. The nationality of all of them, however, was the +same--they were all subjects of the mighty French Empire or Democracy, +and in France race prejudice is practically nil. Therefore Ouk, who +worked in a munition factory, found himself regarded with curiosity +and with interest, though not with prejudice. Thus it happened that +Madame Maubert found herself gazing at Ouk one evening, from behind +the safe security of her zinc covered bar. Curiosity and interest were +in her soul, but no particular sense of racial superiority. Ouk and +some companions, speaking together in heathen jargon, were seated +comfortably at one of the little yellow tables of the cafe, learning +to drink wine in place of the betel nut of which they had been +deprived. All through the day they worked in one of the big factories, +but in the evenings they were free, and able to mix with civilization +and become acquainted with it. And they became acquainted with it in +the bar of Madame Maubert, who served them with yellow wine, and who +watched, from her safe place behind the zinc covered counter, the +effect of yellow wine upon yellow bodies which presumably contained +yellow souls--if any. + +All this made its impression upon Ouk. All this enforced labour and +civilization and unaccustomed wine. So it happened that one evening +Ouk remained alone in the bar after his companions had gone, and he +came close up to the zinc covered counter behind which was seated +Madame Maubert, and he regarded her steadily. She too, regarded him +steadily, and beheld in his slim, upright figure something which +attracted her. And Ouk beheld in Madame Maubert something which +attracted him. Seated upon her high stool on the other side of the +counter, she towered above him, but he felt no awe of her, no sense of +her superiority. True, she looked somewhat older than the girls in his +village, but on the other hand, she had a pink and white skin, and Ouk +had not yet come in contact with a pink and white skin. Nor had Madame +Maubert ever seen, close to, the shining, beautiful skin of a young +Oriental. After all, were they not both subjects of the same great +nation, were they not both living and sacrificing themselves for the +preservation of the same ideals? Madame Maubert had given up her man. +Ouk had given up--heaven knows what--the jungle! Anyway, such being +the effect of yellow wine upon Ouk, and such being the effect of Ouk +on Madame Maubert, they both leaned their elbows upon opposite sides +of the zinc counter that evening and looked at each other. For a whole +year Madame Maubert's husband had been away from her, and for nearly a +whole year Ouk had been away from the women of his kind, and suddenly +they realised, gazing at each other from opposite sides of the zinc +covered bar, that Civilization claimed them. Each had a duty to +perform towards its furtherance and enhancement. + + +IV + +Let us now go back to Maubert, standing for long months within his +straw covered hut, or standing in the roadway in front of it, +demanding passports. Every day, for many months past, he remembered +his misspent permission and cursed the way he had passed it. Passed it +in so futile a manner. Things might have been so different. His +companions often chaffed him about it, chaffed him rudely. For he had +never seen fit to tell them that he had not gone down to his home in +the provinces, as they thought he had, but had been ensnared by some +woman in Paris who had pulled him away from a passing tram on the rue +de la Gaiete. One day the _vaguemestre_ brought him a letter. He was +very dizzy when he read it. Everything swam round. Rage and relief +combated together in his limited brain. Rage and relief--rage and +relief! He could take his letter to the authorities and demand his +release--or---- + +For now he had five children, had Maubert. No one would question it. +In his hand lay the letter of his wife. Five children. The fifth just +born. That meant release from the service of his country. She said she +was sorry. That she had done it for him. He would understand. But +Maubert did not understand. He remembered his misspent permission, and +the thought of it nauseated him. She, too. The thought of it nauseated +him. Certainly he did not understand. + +On the other hand, the authorities had on their books the date of his +permission. He looked again at the letter of his wife. The dates +coincided admirably. He had but to go to his superior officer and show +him the letter of his wife, announcing the birth of their fifth child. +Then he would be free. Free from the service of his country, the +hated service, the examining of passports presented by a rushing +General, by a rushing ambulance, by some rushing motor that was +perhaps carrying a spy. + +He so hated it all. But now, more than anything else, he hated his +wife. He would accept his release and go home and kill her. He +wouldn't be free any more if he did that, however. He argued it out +with himself. So he couldn't kill her. He must accept it. If he +accepted his release from the service of his country, he must accept +it on her terms. He spent a long day in the rain and the wind, +thinking it out. But he thought it out at last. He would accept her +terms, obtain his release, go home and see--and then decide. + +He told his Colonel about it, and his Colonel chaffed him, and looked +over some papers, and finally set in motion the mechanism by which he +was finally set free from the service of his country. It took some +weeks before this was accomplished, but it was finally done. And when +he arrived in Paris, coming down from his post in the First Zone of +the Armies, he was painfully sober. No more wine that day for him. No +more wine, bought at the _estaminet_ before he left, or bought during +the long journey down to Paris. No more zig-zagging up the rue de la +Gaiete. He found the Metro entrance at the exit of the Gare +Montparnasse, took the train, and arrived, shortly afterwards, at the +Gare du Nord, very sober. Very sober and angry. + +And when he reached his home in the provinces, he was still sober and +still angry. Nor did he know what he should do. He did not know +whether he should kill his wife or not. If he did, he must go back to +the Front. And he hated the Front. He hated his duties, sentry duty, +in the First Zone of the Armies. He could not report to his Colonel +again, and say, "Give me back my sentry box--let me serve my +country--that fifth child is not mine!" He was in a tight place, +surely. But at his home, his mood changed, his wife was very gentle. +She said she had been wrong. + +"Ouk is dead," she said. "All those poor little men who come from the +Tropics die very soon in our cold, damp weather. They cannot stand it. +The khaki flannels we give them do not warm them. There is not much +wool in them. The cold penetrates into their bones. They catch cold +and die, all of them, sooner or later. It is an extravagance, +importing them." + +Therefore he was mollified. "For your sake," said his wife. Maubert +looked down at the fifth child lying in its cradle. The child that +brought him release from the service of his country--release from +sentry duty, from looking at hastily shoved out, unintelligible +passports. + +"For your sake," repeated his wife, slipping her arm through his arm. +"Very well," said Maubert stiffly. All the same, he thought to +himself, the child certainly looks like a Chinese. + + + + +MISUNDERSTANDING + + + + +V + +MISUNDERSTANDING + + +I + +They say out here, that one can never understand the native mind and +its workings. So primitive are they, these quiet, gentle, +brown-skinned men and women, crouching over their compound fires in +the evening, lazily driving the lumbering buffaloes in the rice +fields, living their facile life, here on the edge of the jungle. So +primitive are they, these gentle, simple forest people. + +In the towns--oh, but they are not made for the towns, they are so +strangely out of place in the towns which the foreigner has contrived +for himself on the borders of their brown, sluggish rivers, towns +which he has created by pushing backward for a little the jungle, +while he builds his pink and yellow bungalows beneath the palm trees, +and spaces them between the banana trees, along straight tracks which +he calls roads. Wide, red roads, which the natives have made under +his direction, and deep, cool bungalows, which the natives have made +under his direction. Altogether, they are his towns, the foreigners' +towns, and he has constructed them so that they may remind him of his +home, ten thousand miles across the world. + +It is not necessary to try to fancy the natives in these foreign +towns. They mean nothing to him, and are far distant from his +tendencies and desires. His own villages are different--thatched huts, +erected on bamboo piles, roofed with palm leaves. They cluster close +together along the winding brown rivers, on the edge of the jungle. +Mounted very high on their stilts of bamboo, crowding each other very +close together, compound touching compound for the sake of +companionship and safety. Safety from the wild beasts of the forests, +those that cry by night, and howl and prowl and kill; safety from the +serpents, whose sting is death, shelter, protection, from all the +dark, lurking dangers of the jungle--the evil, mighty forests, at +whose edge, between it and the winding yellow rivers, they build +themselves their homes. Yes, but life is very easy here, just the +same. A little stirring of the rich earth in the clearings, and food +springs forth. A little paddling up the stream or down, in a pirogue +or a sampan, a net strung across the sluggish waters, and there is +food again. A little wading in shallow, sunlit pools, a swift strike +with a trident, and a fish is caught. And fruit hangs heavy from the +trees. Life is very easy in these countries. And with the coming of +the sudden sunset of the Tropics, the evening fires are lighted in the +compounds and there is gathering together, with song and laughter, +rest and ease. So as life is very facile in the jungle, love of money +is unknown. Why money--what can it mean? Why toil for something which +one has no use for, cannot spend? Just enough, perhaps, to bargain +with the white man for some simple need--to buy a water buffalo, +maybe, for ploughing in the rice fields. No more than that--it's not +needed. And the very little coins, the very, very little coins, two +dozen of them making up the white man's penny, just enough of these +left over to stick upon the lips of Buddha, at the corners, with a +little gum. Thus a prayer to Buddha, and the offering of a little +coin, stuck with resin to the god's lips, as an offering. That is +all. Life is very simple, living in one's skin. + +I have said all this so that you might understand. Only, remember, no +one understands, quite, the workings of the savage mind. And these of +whom I write are gentle savages, and their way of life is simple, +primitive and crude. Only, upon contact with the white man, some of +this has been obliged to wear off a little. They have had to become +adaptive, to assume a little polish, as it were. But at heart, after +these many years of contact, they are still simple. They are mindless, +gentle, squatting bare backed in the shade, chewing, spitting, betel +nut. Chewing as the ox chews, thinking as the ox thinks. Gentle brown +men and women, touching the edge of the most refined civilization of +the western world. + +The tale jerks here--why shouldn't it? The Lieutenant told me this bit +of it himself--he lives in the foreigners' town, and keeps order +there. There was a revolt last year. But that is too dignified a word, +it assumes too much, it assumes something that there never was. For +revolt signifies organisation, and there wasn't any. It signifies a +general understanding, and there wasn't any. It signifies great +numbers involved, and there were no great numbers. How could there +have been any of these things, said the Lieutenant, among a scattered +people, scattered through the jungle, on the edges of the warm, mighty +forests, at the headwaters of the great winding rivers which penetrate +inland for a thousand miles. No, it was in no sense a revolt, which is +too strong a word. They had no organisation, they could not +communicate with each other, had they wished. Distances were great, +and they could not read or write. They had never been molested--never +schooled. It was better so. Education is no good to a squatter in the +shade. No, it was rather an uprising of a handful of them in the town +of the white man, the town of red earth streets, with pink and yellow +bungalows, cool and sheltered under spreading palms. The town where +many foreigners lived, who walked about listlessly in their white +linen clothes, ghastly pale, with dark rings beneath their eyes, who +stifled in the heat and thought of Home, ten thousand miles away. It +all happened suddenly, no one knows how or why. But one morning, just +after the sun rose in his red, burning splendour, there crept into the +town a few hundred men. They came in by this red street, with the +statue of the Bishop at the top--the bronze statue of the Bishop who +had lived and worked and died here years ago. They came by the red +street leading past the bazaar, the model market, fashioned, with +improvements, like the one at home. They came by the red street +leading past the Botanical Garden, the gardens where at the close of +scorching days the women of the white man, ghastly white, used to +drive before sunset, to breathe a little after the stifling day. They +came along the quais, where the white man's ships found harbour. +Altogether, creeping in on many roads, coming in their fours and +fives, they made about three hundred. And they were in revolt, if you +please, against the representatives of the most refined civilization +of the western world! Just three hundred, no more. Not a ripple of it, +apparently, spread backwards to the jungle, to the millions inland, in +the forests. + +What happened? Oh, it was all over in an hour! The Lieutenant heard +them coming--his orderly ran in with the word--and he was out in an +instant with eight men. Eight soldiers armed with rifles. It was quite +amusing. And opposed to them, that mob, in their peaked hats, in their +loin cloths or their sarongs, bare to waist as usual. Poor fools! +Fancy--not a gun among them! They thought they were invisible! The +geomancer had told them that, and they believed him. Carried at their +head a flag, some outlandish, homemade thing, with unknown characters +upon it. Well, it was all over in a moment--those eight men armed with +guns saw to that. Short work--thirty wounded, fourteen killed. The +rest scattered, but before the day was out they had them--had them in +two hours, for a fact. All disarmed, and the Lieutenant had their +weapons. Come to see them at his bungalow, if we'd time? Interesting +lot of trophies, most unique collection. Quite unequalled. Homemade +spears, forged and hammered, stuck on bamboo poles. Homemade swords, +good blades, too, for all their crudeness. Must have taken months to +make them, fashioned slyly, on the quiet. Killing weapons, meant to +kill. Swords like the Crusaders, only cased in bamboo scabbards. +Funny lot--come to see them if we'd time. Nothing like it, a unique +collection. And the flag--red cotton flag, all blood stained, with +some device in corner, just barbaric. Poor fools! Flag pathetic? +Pathetic? Heavens, no! + +Well, they stamped it out very thoroughly, at four o'clock that +afternoon. It finished at the race course, for there is always a race +course where the white man rules. Word went round, as it always goes +round in times like this, and just before sunset the whole native +population was out to see the white man's method. No one hindered them +or feared them, for apparently they had no hand in this uprising, and +moreover, were unarmed. They were full of curiosity to see what they +should see. Silently they trooped out in hundreds through the shady, +palm bordered, red streets of the town, padding barefoot past the +sheltered bungalows, past the bronze statue of the Bishop, out to the +edge of the town. All the Tropics was there, moving silently, flowing +gently, in their hundreds, to the race course. Dark skins, yellow +skins, eyes straight, eyes slanting, black hair cut short, or worn in +pigtails, or in top knots, or in chignons; bare bodies, bare legs, or +legs clothed in brilliant sarongs or in flapping pyjamas--all the +costumes of all the countries bordering the Seven Seas streamed +outward from the town, very silent. And as the sun blazed low to his +setting; all the Tropics waited to see what the white man would do. + +They did it very cleverly, the white men. For they called upon the +native troops to do it for them, to see if they were loyal. There were +thirty-four prisoners all told, and they walked along with hands bound +behind them, looking very stupid. Even as they walked along, at that +moment the wife of the Lieutenant was showing their crude spears to +friends--she gave tea to her friends in the pink bungalow, and +exhibited the captured weapons, but the Lieutenant was not there--he +was at the race course, supervising. + +They led them forward in groups of six, and they were faced by six +native soldiers armed with rifles. And just behind the six native +soldiers stood six soldiers of the white troops, also with rifles. And +when the word was given to fire, if the native troops had not fired +upon their brothers, the white troops would have fired upon both. It +was cleverly managed, and very well arranged. But there was no hitch. +Six times the native troops fired upon batches of naked, kneeling men, +and six times the white soldiers stood behind them with raised rifles, +in case of hesitation. Only the crack of the rifles broke the +stillness. The dense crowd of natives gathered close, standing by in +silence. Giving no sign, they watched the retribution of the white +man. The sun beat down upon them, in their wide hats, their +semi-nakedness, attired in their sombre or brilliant cotton skirts. +When it was over, they dispersed as quietly as they had gathered. The +silent crowds walked back from the race course, the pleasure ground of +the dominant race, and drifted along the red streets of the town, back +again to the holes and burrows from which they had come. + + +II + +A year later, nearly. The Lieutenant who had quelled the uprising, +with a handful of men armed with rifles of the latest device, as +against three hundred natives armed with spears, had been decorated +and was very proud. He also continued to exhibit his unique collection +of arms to all comers, when the mail boats came in. Nor did he see +their pathos. And in the jungles of the interior, where most of them +lived, the natives never knew of the existence of the little red flag, +and would not have understood if they had been told. Why? The white +men were kind and considerate. Easy and indulgent masters who in no +wise interfered with life as lived in the jungle. But with the native +troops who had fired upon their brothers it was different. + +Thus it happened that the small coastwise steamer, going her usual +cruise among the islands and along the coast of one of the Seven Seas, +carried unusual freight. Being a very little boat, with a light cargo, +she was sometimes severely buffeted by the northeast monsoon, which +was blowing at that time of the year. On these days, when the monsoon +was strongest, the few passengers she carried were not comfortable. On +other days, when she found calm weather among the islands, it was very +pleasant. She dropped anchor from time to time in little bays +bordered with cocoanut tree, and from the bays emerged sampans with +vivid painted eyes on their prows, seeking out the steamer and the +bales of rice she carried, or the mails. The mails, consisting of half +a dozen letters for each port, were tied up in big canvas sacks, +sealed with big government seals, and the white men who lived on these +remote, desert islands, would come themselves to fetch them. They +paddled themselves to the steamer in pirogues or in sampans, white +faced, anaemic, apathetic, devoid of vitality. The great, overwhelming +heat of the Tropics, the isolation of life, in unknown islands in the +southern seas, makes one like that. Yet they were "making money" on +their island plantations of rubber or cocoanut, or expecting to make +it. It takes seven years of isolation in the tropic seas, after one +has started a plantation--and even then, many things may happen---- + +So the little steamer stopped here and there, at little, unknown bays, +at places not mentioned in the guide books, and from the beautiful, +desolate islands came out sampans and junks, with the lonely figure of +a white man sitting despondent among the naked rowers, eager to get +his letters from home. It was his only eagerness, but very dull and +listless at that. At night, the islands loomed large and mysterious in +the darkness, while now and then a single ray of light from some light +house, gleaming from some lost, mysterious island of the southern +seas, beamed with a curious constancy. There were dangerous rocks, +sunken reefs. And always the soft wind blew, the soft, enervating wind +of the Tropics. + +On the fore part of the little steamer, that wound its way with +infinite care, slowly, among the sunken rocks, the shoals and +sandbars, sat a company of fifty men. Natives, such as you might see +back there in the jungle, or harnessed to the needs of civilization, +bearing the white man in rickshaws along the red streets of the little +town. These, however, were native troops--the rickshaw runner used in +another way. They were handcuffed together, sitting in pairs on the +main deck. In the soft, moist wind, they eat rice together, with their +free hands, out of the same bowl. Very dirty little prisoners, clad in +khaki, disarmed, chained together in pairs. A canvas was stretched +over that part of the deck, which sheltered them from the glaring sun, +and prevented the odour of them from rising to the bridge, a little +way above, where stood the Captain in yellow crepe pyjamas. For they +were dirty, handcuffed together like that, unexercised, unwashed. They +would be put ashore in three days, however, to work on the roads, +government roads. Notoriously good roads, the colony has too. Their +offense? Grave enough. With the European world at war, this colony, +like those of all the other nations, had called upon its native +troops. The native troops had been loyal, had responded, had +volunteered to go when told they must. Proof of that? Forty thousand +of them at the moment helping in this devastating war. It was a good +record--it spoke well---- + +Only this handful had refused. Refused absolutely, flagrantly defiant. +Just this little group, out of all the thousands. So they were being +sent off somewhere, handcuffed, to make roads. Prisoners for three +years to make roads, useless roads that led nowhere. Good roads, +excellent, for traffic that never was. Some said they were the +soldiers who had been forced to kill their brothers a while +back--after that paltry revolution. One didn't know. They are stupid, +these natives. Chewing betel nut all day, their mouths a red, bloody +gash across their faces. + +The ship stopped finally in some bay. Then a big, unwieldy junk put +out from shore, and tacked back and forth, for two hours, against a +strong head wind, coming to rest finally against the steamer's side. +Two big iron rods were put out, with a padlock at each end, and places +for twenty-five feet to be locked in. Then came European guards, with +rifles, and revolvers in big leather cases hanging at their sides. The +prisoners were very docile, but it was well to take precautions. When +all was ready, the prisoners filed out slowly and with difficulty, +because of their chains, and descended the gangway ladder to the +uncouth junk, with its painted, staring eyes. After that, the junk +slowly detached itself from the ship, unrolled its ragged matting +sails, and made towards the mainland with the docile cargo. + +The third passenger leaned over the rail. A sweet breeze blew in from +the island, a scented breeze, laden with the heavy scents of the +Tropics. For three years, he said, they would labour at the futile +roads, the roads that led nowhere. Really, commented the third +passenger, it was impossible to understand the Oriental mind. They had +chosen this--this isolation, this cutting off from home and friends, +rather then go to Europe to serve the race that had treated them so +well. Afraid? Oh, no--too ignorant to be afraid. Brave enough when it +came to that--just obstinate. Just refused to serve, to do as they +were told. Refused to serve, to fight for the race that had treated +them so well, by and large, take it all in all. That had built them +towns and harbours, brought in ships and trade--had done everything, +according to best western standards. It was incomprehensible--truly it +was difficult to fathom the Oriental mind! The revolt a year ago? Oh, +nothing! + +The big junk with the staring eyes carried them off, the supine, +listless prisoners, handcuffed together, foot-locked to an iron bar. +They must build roads for three years. Somewhere at the back of those +slow minds was a memory of the race course, of the brothers they had +slain. Perhaps. Who knows. But the Occidental mind does not understand +the Oriental mind, and it was good to be rid of them, dirty little +creatures, who smelled so bad under the awning of the main deck. + +The anchor chain wound in, grating link on link. The soft, sweet wind +blew outward from the cocoanut trees, from the scented earth of the +island. The third passenger watched the junk disappear in the shadows +of the warm night, then he went below to get another drink. + + + + +PRISONERS + + + + +VI + +PRISONERS + + +Mercier was writing his report for the day. He sat at a rattan table, +covered with a disorderly array of papers, ledgers and note books of +various sorts, and from time to time made calculations on the back of +an old envelope. He finally finished his work, and pushing back his +chair, lighted a cigarette. Unconsciously, he measured time by +cigarettes. One cigarette, and he would begin work. One cigarette and +he would start on the first paragraph. One cigarette, to rest after +the first paragraph before beginning the second, and so on. It was +early in the morning, but not early for a morning in the Tropics. +Already the sun was creeping over the edge of the deep, palm-shaded +verandah, making its way slowly across the wooden floor, till it would +reach him, at his table, in a very short time. And as it slowly crept +along, a brilliant line of light, so the heat increased, the moist, +stagnant heat, from which there was no escape. Outside some one was +pulling the punkah rope, and the great leaves of linen, attached to +heavy teak poles, swayed back and forth over his head, stirring +slightly the dense, humid atmosphere. + +Mercier was a young man, not over thirty. He had come out to the East +three years ago, to a minor official post in the Penal Settlement, +glad of a soft position, of easy work, of an opportunity to see life +in the Tropics. At a port on the mainland, he transshipped from the +liner to a little steamer, which two days later dropped anchor in the +blue bay of his future home. At that time, he was conscious of being +intensely pleased at the picture spread before him. Long ago, in +boyhood, he had cherished romantic dreams of the Tropics, of islands +in southern seas, of unknown, mysterious life set in gorgeous, remote +setting. It had all appealed to his fancy, and then suddenly, after +many long years, sordid, difficult years, the opportunity had come for +the realisation of his dreams. He had obtained a post as minor +official in one of the colonies of his country--overseas in the Far +East--and he gladly gave up his dull, routine life at home, and came +out to the adventures that awaited him. The island, as he saw it for +the first time, was beautiful. Steep hills, rocky and mountainous, +rose precipitately out of the blue waters, and the rising sun glinted +upon the topmost peaks of the hills and threw their deep shadows down +upon the bay, and upon the group of yellow stucco bungalows that +clustered together upon the edge of the water, upon the narrow strip +of land lying between the sea and the sheer sides of the backing +mountains. The bay was a crescent, almost closed, and a coral reef ran +in an encircling sweep from the headland beyond, and the translucent, +sparkling waters of the harbour seemed beautiful beyond belief. His +heart beat wildly when for the first time he beheld his new home--it +exceeded in beauty anything that he had ever dreamed of. What mattered +it whether or no it was a Penal Settlement for one of the great, +outlying colonies of his mother country, two days' sail from the +nearest port on the mainland, the port itself ten thousand miles from +home. It was beautiful to look upon--glorious to look upon, and it was +glorious to think that the next few years of his life would be spent +amidst such surroundings. The captain of the coasting steamer told him +it would be lonely--he laughed at the idea. How could one be lonely +amidst such beauty as that! His thirsty soul craved beauty, and here +it was before him, marvellous, complete, the island a gem sparkling in +the sunlight, veiled in the shadow of an early morning. Lying +somewhere, all this beauty, one degree north or south of the Equator! + +No, assuredly, he would not be lonely! Were there not many families on +the island, the officials and their families, a good ten or fifteen of +them? Besides, there was his work. He knew nothing of his work, of his +duties. But in connection with the prisoners, of course--and there +were fifteen hundred prisoners, they told him, concentrated on those +few square miles of island, off somewhere in the Southern Seas, a few +miles north or south of the Equator. He was anxious to see the +prisoners, the unruly ones of the colony. Strange types they would +appear to his conventional, sophisticated eyes. He saw them in +imagination--yellow skins, brown skins, black skins, picturesque, +daring, desperate perhaps. The anchor splashed overboard into the +shallow water, and the small steamer drifted on the end of the chain, +waiting for a boat to come out from shore. With the cessation of the +steamer's movement, he felt the heat radiate round him, in an +overpowering wave, making him feel rather sick and giddy. Yet it was +only six o'clock in the morning. Before the boat arrived from shore, +the sun had passed over the highest peak of the mountains and was +glaring down with full power upon the cluster of hidden bungalows, the +edges and ends of which bungalows protruded a little from the shelter +of vines and palm trees. White clad men came down to the beach, and a +woman or two appeared on the verandahs, and then disappeared back into +the verandahs, while the men came down to the water's edge alone. The +rowboat was pulled ashore by strong rowers, dark skinned, brawny men, +and as the boat neared the beach, other dark skinned brawny men took a +carrying chair and splashed out to meet the boat, inviting him by +gestures to step into the chair and be carried ashore. He forgot the +heat in the novelty of this new sensation--being carried ashore in a +chair, with the clear, transparent water beneath him, and wavy sands, +shell studded, over which the bearers walked slowly, with precision. +And then came his first hours on shore. How calmly they had welcomed +him, those white faced, pale men, with the deep circles beneath their +eyes. They looked at him with envy, it seems, as a being newly come +from contact with civilization, and they looked upon him with pity, as +a being who had deliberately chosen to shut himself off from +civilization, for a period of many years. He was taking the place of +one who was going home--and the man was in a desperate hurry to get +away. He looked ill, withal he was so fat, for he was very fat and +flabby, extraordinarily white, with circles beneath his puffy eyes +blacker and more marked than those on the other faces. The departing +official shook hands hurriedly with Mercier, and kissed his old +companions good-bye hurriedly upon both cheeks, and then hastened into +the chair, to get to the rowboat, to get to the steamer as soon as +possible. The other officials on the beach commented volubly on his +good fortune--ah, but he had the chance! What chance! What luck! What +fortune! They themselves had no luck, they must remain here how long, +ah, who knew how long! They all stood there upon the beach watching +the departing one until he reached the steamer, drifting idly at the +length of her anchor chain. + +Then they remembered Mercier again, and surrounded him, not eagerly, +listlessly, and asked him to the office of the Administrator, to have +a cup of champagne. A cup of champagne, at a little after six in the +morning. As they walked slowly up the beach, Mercier spoke of the +beauty of the place, the extraordinary beauty of the island. They +seemed not to heed him. They smiled, and reminded him that he was a +newcomer, and that such was the feeling of all newcomers and that it +would soon pass. And in a body, ten of them, they conducted Mercier to +the bureau of the Administrator, a tired, middle aged men, who shook +hands without cordiality, and ordered a boy to bring a tray with a +bottle and glasses and mouldy biscuits, and they all sat together and +drank without merriment. It was dark in the Administrator's office, +for the surrounding verandah was very wide and deep, and tall bamboos +grew close against the edges of the railing, and a little way behind +the bamboos grew banana trees and travellers' palms, all reaching high +into the air and making a thick defence against the sunlight. The +stone floor had been freshly sprinkled with water, and the ceiling was +high, made of dark teak wood, and it was very dark inside, and damp +and rather cool. There was a punkah hanging from the ceiling, but it +stood at rest. Its movement had come to make the Administrator +nervous. He was very nervous and restless, turning his head from side +to side in quick, sharp jerks, first over one shoulder and then the +other, and now and then suddenly bending down to glance under the +table. Later on, some one explained to Mercier that the Administrator +had a profound fear of insects, the fierce, crawling, stinging things +that lived outside under the bamboos, and that crept in sometimes +across the stone paved floor, and bit. Only last week, one of the +paroled convicts, working in the settlement, had been bitten by some +venomous evil thing, and had died a few hours later. Such accidents +were common--one must always be on guard. Most people became used to +being on guard, but with the Administrator, the thing had become a +nightmare. He had been out too long--his nerves were tortured. It was +the heat, of course--the stifling, enervating heat. Few could stand it +for very long, and the authorities back home must have forgotten to +relieve the old man--he was such a good executive, perhaps they had +forgotten on purpose. The sub-officials were changed from time to +time, but the old man seemed to have been forgotten. He could not +stand it much longer--that was obvious. + +Mercier went thoughtfully to the bungalow assigned to him, installed +his few meagre possessions, and entered without zest upon his work. +Somehow, the keenness had been taken out of him by that hour's +conversation in the darkened bureau of the Chief. The weeks passed +slowly, but Mercier never regained his enthusiasm. The physical +atmosphere took all initiative away. His comrades were listless +beings, always tired, dragging slowly to their daily rounds, and +finishing their work early in the morning before the heat became +intolerable. Then for hours they rested--retired to their bungalows or +that of a comrade, and rested, to escape the intense heat which never +varied, winter or summer, although it was a farce to speak of the +seasons as winter or summer, except in memory of home. Mercier soon +fell in with their ways. He drank a great deal, beginning very early +in the morning, and measured time by cigarettes, postponing his +duties, such that claimed him, till he had just finished another +cigarette. They were cheap and bad, but there was a solace in them, +and they whiled away the time. The only joviality about the place came +in the evenings, after many cigarettes, which made him nervous, and +after very many little glasses of brandy, which unfitted him for work +but which were necessary to stimulate him for what work he had to do. + +Near the group of bungalows belonging to the officials and to the +prison guards, stood the prison building itself, a large, rambling, +one storeyed structure, with many windows fitted with iron bars. Here +the newcomers were kept, about eight hundred of them, and nearby, in +an adjacent compound, were quarters for about seven hundred prisoners +out on parole, by reason of good conduct. The confined prisoners did +not work, being merely confined, but those out on parole, on good +conduct, and whose terms would soon come to an end, were trusted to +work about the island in various capacities. They made the roads--such +few as there were. The island was so small that many roads were not +required, and since there was no traffic, but little labour was +required to keep the roads in repair. They also worked in the rice +fields, but, again, there were not many rice fields. It was easier to +bring rice from the mainland. There was a herd of water buffaloes, +used for ploughing during the season, and the buffaloes needed some +attention, but not much. So the paroled convicts were employed in +other ways about the island, in cooking for the prisoners, in cleaning +the various buildings, and as servants in the households of the +officials. Only the most trusted, however, were given such posts as +that. Yet it was necessary to trust many of them, and each official +had a large retinue of servants, for there was little settlement work +to be done, and something must be done with the men on parole, since +the prison itself was too small to hold fifteen hundred men under lock +and key at the same time. Moreover, these trusted ones were rather +necessary. In the Tropics, work is always done in a small, +half-hearted way, by reason of the heat which so soon exhausts the +vitality, consequently many people are required to perform the +smallest task. + +Mercier, therefore, was obliged to accept the life as he found it, and +he found it different from the romantic conception which he had formed +at home. And he became very listless and demoralised, and the lack of +interests of all sorts bored him intolerably. He was not one to find +solace in an intellectual life. The bi-monthly call of the supply ship +with its stocks of provisions, the unloading of which he must oversee, +was the sole outside interest he had to look forward to. Old +newspapers and magazines came with the supply ship, and these were +eagerly read, and soon abandoned, and nothing was left but cigarettes +and brandy to sustain him between whiles. + +On a certain morning, when he had been at the settlement for over a +year, he finished his daily report and strolled over to lay it upon +the desk in the office of the Administrator. The supply ship was due +in that day, and he wandered down to the beach to look for her. There +she was, just dropping anchor. His heart beat a little faster, and he +hastened his steps. It was cattle day. Bullocks from the mainland, +several hundred miles away, which came once a month for food. He took +his boat and rowed, out to the ship, and then directed the work of +removing the bullocks. + +It was nasty work. The coolies did it badly. The hatch was opened, and +by means of a block and pulley, each bullock was dragged upward by a +rope attached to its horns. Kicking and struggling, they were swung +upwards over the side of the ship and lowered into the lighter below. +Sometimes they were swung out too far and landed straddle on the side +of the lighter, straddling the rail, kicking and roaring. And +sometimes, when the loosely moored lighter drifted away a little from +the ship's side, an animal would be lowered between the ship's side +and the lighter, and squeezed between the two--so crushed that when it +was finally hauled up and lowered safely into the boat, it collapsed +in a heap, with blood flowing from its mouth. The coolies did it all +very badly--they had no system, and as Mercier could not speak to them +in their language, he could not direct them properly. Besides, he was +no organiser himself, and probably could not have directed them +properly had he been able to speak to them. All he could do, +therefore, was to look on, and let them do it in their own way. +Sometimes as an animal was being raised, its horns would break, and it +would be lowered with a bleeding head, while the coolies stood by and +grinned, and considered it a joke. Mercier was still sensitive on some +points, and while long ago he had ceased to find any beauty in the +island, he was nevertheless disgusted with needless suffering, with +stupid, ugly acts. + +There were only twenty cattle to be unloaded on this day, but it took +two hours to transfer them to the lighter, and at the end of that time +the tide had fallen so that they must wait for another six or eight +hours, in the broiling sun, until the water was high enough for the +lighter to approach the landing stage, where another block and pulley +was rigged. Which meant that later in the day--possibly in the hottest +part--Mercier would be obliged to come down again to oversee the work, +and to see that it was finished. For the cattle must be ashore by +evening--meat was needed for the settlement, and some must be killed +for food that night. Mercier was thoroughly disgusted with his work, +with his whole wasted life. Ah, it was a dog's life! Yet how eagerly +he had tried to obtain this post--how eagerly he had begged for the +chance, pleaded for it, besought the few influential people he knew to +obtain it for him. + +On the way back to his bungalow, he passed along the palm grown road, +on each side of which were the red and white bungalows, residences of +the dozen officials of the island. They were screened by hedges of +high growing bushes, bearing brilliant, exotic flowers which gave out +a heavy, sweet perfume, and the perfume hung in clouds, invisible yet +tangible, pervading the soft, warm air. How he had dreamed of such +perfumes--long ago. Yet how sickening in reality. And how dull they +were, the interiors of these sheltered bungalows, how dull and stupid +the monotonous life that went on inside them--dejected, weary, useless +little rounds of household activity, that went along languorously each +day, and led nowhere. It all led nowhere. Within each house was the +wearied, stupid wife of some petty official, and sometimes there were +stupid, pallid children as well, tended by convicts on parole. Nowhere +could he turn to find intellectual refreshment. The community offered +nothing--there was no society--just the dull daily greetings, the +dull, commonplace comments on island doings or not doings, for all lay +under the spell of isolation, under the pall of the great, oppressive, +overwhelming heat. How deadly it all was, the monotonous life, the +isolation, the lack of interests and occupation. As he passed along, a +frowzy woman in a Mother Hubbard greeted him from a verandah and asked +him to enter. Years ago she had come out fresh and blooming, and now +she was prematurely aged, fat and stupid--more stupid, perhaps, than +the rest. Yet somehow, because there was nothing else to do, Mercier +pushed open the flimsy bamboo gate, walked up the gravelled path, and +flung himself dejectedly upon a chaise longue which was at hand. And +the woman talked to him, asked him how many cattle had come over that +morning, whether they were yet unloaded, when they would be finally +landed and led to the slaughter pens a little way inland. It was all +so gross, so banal, yet it was all there was of incident in the day, +and most clays were still more barren, with not even these paltry +events to discuss. And he felt that he was sinking to the level of +these people, he who had dreamed of high romance, of the mystery of +the Far Eastern Tropics! And this was what it meant--what it had come +to! A fat woman in a Mother Hubbard asking him how many bullocks had +come in that day, and when they would be ready to kill and eat! + +She clapped together her small, fat hands, and a servant entered, and +she ordered grenadine and soda and liqueurs, and pushed towards him a +box of cheap cigarettes. Where was her charm? Why had he married her, +her husband--who was at the moment in the Administrator's bureau, +compiling useless statistics concerning the petty revenues of the +prison colony? But he was just like her, in his way. All the men were +run to seed, and all their women too. And these were the only women on +the island, these worn, pale, bloated wives who led an idle life in +the blazing heat. Seven such women, all told. He relapsed into +silence, and she likewise fell silent, there being nothing more to +get nor give. They were all gone, intellectually. They had no ideas, +nothing to exchange. So he smoked on, lazily, in silence, feeling the +slight stir in his blood caused by the Quinquina. He filled his glass +again, and looked forward to the next wave of relaxation. Overhead, +the punkah swung slowly, stirring the scented air. These were the +scents he had dreamed of, the rich, heavy perfumes of the Tropics. +Only it was all so dull! + +The door opened and a little girl entered the verandah, a child of +perhaps fourteen. A doomed child. He looked at her languidly, and +continued to look at her, thinking vague thoughts. She was beautiful. +Her cotton frock, belted in by some strange arrangement of seashells +woven into a girdle, pressed tightly over her young form, revealing +clearly the outline of a childish figure soon ready to bloom into full +maturity under these hot rays of vertical sunshine. She would develop +soon, even as the native women developed into maturity very early. His +tired glance rested upon her face. That, too, bore promise of great +beauty. The features were fine and regular, singularly well formed, +and the eyes those of a gentle cow, unspeculative, unintelligent. She +was very white, with the deathlike whiteness of the Tropics, and under +the childish eyes were deep, black rings, coming early. He noticed her +hands--slender, long, with beautiful fingernails--such hands in Paris! +And again his roving glance fell lower, and rested upon her bare legs, +well formed, well developed, the legs of a young woman. He stirred +lightly in his chair. The feet matched the hands--slender, long feet, +with long, slender toes. She was wearing native sandals, clumsy wooden +sandals, with knobs between the first two toes. Only the knobs were of +silver, instead of the usual buttons of bone, or wood. Some one had +brought them to her from the mainland, evidently. Well, here she was, +a doomed creature, uneducated, growing older, growing into womanhood, +with no outlook ahead. Her only companions her dull, stupid mother, +and the worn-out wives of the officials--all years older than herself. +Or perhaps she depended for companionship upon the children--there +were a dozen such, about the place, between the ages of two and six. +And she stood between these two groups, just blooming into womanhood, +with her beautiful young body, and her atrophied young brain. Her eyes +fell shyly under his penetrating, speculative glances, and a wave of +colour rose into her white cheeks. She felt, then, hey? Felt what? + +Mercier leaned forward, with something curious pulsing in his breast. +The sort of feeling that he had long since forgotten, for there was +nothing for such feelings to feed upon, here in his prison. Yet the +sensation, vague as it was, seemed to have been recognised, shared for +an instant by the young creature beside him. It was rather uncanny. He +had heard that idiots or half-witted people were like that. She rose +uneasily, placing upon her long, sprawling curls an old sun hat, very +dirty, the brim misshapen by frequent wettings of pipe-clay. A servant +appeared from behind the far corner of the verandah, an old man, dark +skinned, emaciated, clad in a faded red sarong. He was her personal +servant, told off to attend her. Something must be done for the men on +parole, some occupation given them to test their fitness before +returning them again to society. As she passed from the verandah, +followed by the old black man in his red sarong, Mercier felt a +strange thrill. Where were they going, those two? + +He turned to the inattentive, vacuous mother. "Your daughter," he +began, "is fast growing up. Soon she will be marrying." + +The woman shrugged her shoulders. + +"With whom?" she answered. "Who will take her? What dowry can we give +her? We cannot even send her to Singapore to be educated. Who will +take her--ignorant, uneducated--without a _dot_? Besides," she +continued eagerly, warmed into a burst of confidence, "you have +heard--you have seen--the trouble lies here," and she tapped her +forehead significantly. + +And with a sigh she concluded, "We are all prisoners here, every one +of us--like the rest." + +Mercier rose from the chaise longue, still thinking deeply, still +stirred by the vague emotion that had called forth an answer from the +immature, half-witted child. He had a report to make to the Bureau, +and he must be getting on. Later, when the tide turned, and the +lighter could come against the jetty, he must attend to the cattle. + +He did not linger in the office of the Administrator, but sent in his +report by a waiting boy, and then strolled inland by the road that led +past the prison, into the interior of the island. On his way he passed +the graveyard. It was a melancholy graveyard, containing a few +slanting shafts erected to the memory of guards and of one or two +officers who had been killed from time to time by prisoners who had +run amok. Such uprisings occurred now and then, but seldom. He entered +the cemetery, and looked about languidly, reading the names on the +stones. Killed, killed, killed. Then he came upon a few who had died +naturally. Or was it natural to have died, at the age of thirty, out +here on the edge of the world? Yet it was most natural, after all. He +himself was nearly ready for the grave, ready because of pure boredom, +through pure inertia, quite ready to succumb to the devitalising +effect of this life. This hideous life on a desert island. This +hideous mockery of life, lived while he was still so young and so +vital, and which was reducing him, not slowly but with great pacing +strides, to an inertia to which he must soon succumb. Why didn't the +prisoners revolt now, he wondered? He would gladly accept such a way +out--gladly offer himself to their knives, or their clubs, or whatever +it was they had. Anything that would put an end to him, and land him +under a stone in this forsaken spot. Surely he was no more alive than +the dead under those stones. No more dead than the dead. + +He passed out of the gate, swinging on a loose hinge, and in deep +meditation walked along the palm bordered road back of the settlement. +Soon the last bungalow was left behind, even though he walked slowly. +Then succeeded the paddy fields, poorly tilled and badly irrigated. +There were enough men on the island to have done it properly--only +what was the use? Who cared--whether they raised their own rice or +brought it from the mainland twice a month? It was not a matter to +bother about. Water buffaloes, grazing by the roadside, raised their +heavy heads and stared at him with unspeakable insolence. They were +for ploughing the rice fields, but who had the heart to oversee the +work? Better leave the men squatting in content by the roadside, +under the straggly banana trees, than urge them to work. It meant more +effort on the part of the officials and effort was so useless. All so +futile and so hopeless. He nodded in recognition of the salutes given +him by groups of paroled prisoners, chewing betel nut under the trees. +Let them be. + +A bend in the road brought him to a halt. Just beyond, lying at full +length upon the parched grass, was the little girl he had seen that +morning. She lay on her back, with bare legs extended, asleep. Nearby, +squatting on his heels and lost in a meditative pipe, sat the Kling, +her body servant. The man rose to his feet respectfully as Mercier +passed, watching his mistress and watching Mercier with a sombre eye. +Mercier passed on slowly, with a long glance at the child. She was not +a child, really. Her cotton dress clung round her closely, and he +gazed fascinated, at the young figure, realising that it was mature. +Mature enough. A thought suddenly rose to his mind, submerging +everything else. He walked on hurriedly, and at a turn of the road, +looked back. The Kling was sitting down again impassively, refilling +his pipe. + +From that time on, Mercier's days were days of torment, and the nights +as well. He struggled violently against this new feeling, this hideous +obsession, and plunged into his work violently, to escape it. But his +work, meagre and insufficient at best, was merely finished the sooner +because of his energy, which left him with more time on his hands. +That was all. Time in which to think and to struggle. No, certainly, +he did not wish to marry. That thought was put aside immediately. +Marry a stupid little child like that, with a brain as fat as her +body! But not as beautiful as her body. Besides, she was too young to +marry, even in the Tropics, where all things mate young. But there she +was, forever coming across his path at every turn. In his long walks +back into the interior, behind the settlement, he came upon her daily, +with her attendant Kling. The Kling always squatting on his heels, +smoking, or else rolling himself a bit of areca nut into a +sirrah-leaf, and dabbing on a bit of pink lime from his worn, silver +box. Mercier tried to talk to the child, to disillusion himself by +conversations which showed the paucity of ideas, her retarded +mentality. But he always ended by looking at the beautiful, slim +hands, at the beautiful, slim feet, at the cotton gown slightly +pressed outward by the maturing form within. + +He was angry with himself, furious at the obsession that possessed +him. Once he entered the gravelled path of the child's home, and +seriously discussed with her mother the danger of letting her roam at +large over the island, accompanied only by the old Kling. He explained +vigorously that it was not safe. There were hundreds of paroled +prisoners at large, engaged in the ricefields, on the plantations, +mending the roads--there was not a native woman on the place. He +explained and expostulated volubly, surprised at his own eloquence. +The mother took it calmly. The Kling, she replied, was trustworthy. He +was an old man, very trustworthy and very strong. No harm could come +to her daughter under his protection. And the long rambles abroad were +good for the child. Was she not accustomed to convicts, as servants? +She had a houseful of them, and many years' experience. What did he +know of them, a comparative newcomer? For example, she had three +pirates, Malays from the coast of Siam. They were quiet enough now. +And one Cambodian, a murderer, true enough, but gentle enough now. +Three house-boys and a cook. As for the old Kling, he was a marvel--he +had been a thief in his day, but now--well now, he was body-servant +for her daughter and a more faithful soul it would be hard to find. +For seven years she had lived upon the island, surrounded by these +men. She knew them well enough. True, there was the graveyard back of +the prison compound, eloquent, mute testimony of certain lapses from +trustworthiness, but she was not afraid. She had no imagination, and +Mercier, failing to make her sense danger, gave it up. It had been a +great effort. He had been pleading for protection against himself. + +Mercier awoke one morning very early. It was early, but still dark, +for never, in these baleful Tropics, did the dawn precede the sunrise, +and there was no slow, gradual greying and rosying creeping of +daylight, preceding the dawn. It was early and dark, with a damp +coolness in the air, and he reached down from his cot for his +slippers, and first clapped them together before placing them upon his +slim feet. Then he arose, stepped out upon his verandah, and thought +awhile. Darkness everywhere, and the noise of the surf beating within +the enclosed crescent of the harbour. Over all, a great heat, tinged +with a damp coolness, a coolness which was sinister. And standing upon +his verandah, came rushing over him the agony of his wasted life. His +prisoner life upon this lonely island in the Southern Seas. Exchanged, +this wasted life, for his romantic dreams, and a salary of a few +hundred francs a year. That day he would write and ask for his +release--send in his resignation--although it would be weeks or months +before he could be relieved. As he stood there in agony, the dawn +broke before him suddenly, as Tropic dawns do break, all of a sudden, +with a rush. Before him rose the high peaks of the binding mountains, +high, impassable, black peaks, towering like a wall of rock. It was +the wall of the world, and he could not scale it. Before him stretched +the curve of the southern sea, in a crescent, but for all its +fluidity, as impassable as the backing wall of rock. Between the two +he was hemmed in, on a narrow strip of land, enclosed between the +mountain wall and the curving reach of sea. He and all his futile +interests lay within that narrow strip of land, between the mountain +wall and the sea--and the strip was very narrow and small. + +He went forth from his bungalow, pulling upon his feet clumsy native +sandals of wood, with a button between the toes. For underfoot lay the +things he dreaded, the heat things, the things bred by this warm +climate enclosed between the high wall of the mountains and the +infitting curve of the sea. He tramped awkwardly along in his loose +fitting sandals, fast at the toe, clapping up and down at the heel. +The one street of the town through which he passed was bordered by the +houses of the officials, all sleeping. They were accustomed to +sleeping. Only he, Mercier, could not sleep. He was not yet accustomed +to being a prisoner. Perhaps--in time---- + +He clapped along gently, though to him it seemed very noisily, past +the bungalows of the officials, past the big prison, also sleeping. +Past the Administration buildings, past the weed-grown, unused tennis +courts, out upon the red road leading to the mountains. Turn upon turn +of the red road he passed, and then stopped, halted by a sight. A +sight which for weeks past he had worn in his heart, but which he had +never hoped to see fulfilled. She was there, that child! That child so +young, so voluptuous in her development, so immature in her mentality, +and beside her, a little way away, sat the Kling prisoner who guarded +her. The Kling squatted upon his heels, chewing areca nut, and +spitting long distances before him. The child also squatted upon the +grass by the roadside, very listless. The Kling did not move as +Mercier approached, clapping in his sandals. But the child moved and +cast upon him a luminous, frightened gaze, and then regarded him +fixedly. Therefore Mercier sat down by the child, and noted her. Noted +her with a hungry feeling, taking in every beautiful detail. Her +exquisite little hands, and her exquisite little feet, shod in wooden +sandals, with a button between the toes, such sandals as he was +wearing. He talked to her a little, and she answered in half-shy, +frightened tones, but underneath he detected a note of passion--such +as he felt for her. She was fourteen years old, you see, and fully +developed, partly because she was half-witted, and partly because of +these hot temperatures under the Equator. + +Thus it befell that every morning Mercier arose early, clad his feet +in noisy, clapping sandals, and went out for a walk along the red road +underlying the mountain. And every morning, almost by accident, he met +the half-witted child with her faithful Kling attendant. And the +Kling, squatting down upon his heels, chewed areca nut, and spat +widely and indifferently, while Mercier sat down beside the little +girl and wondered how long he could stand it--before his control gave +way. For she was a little animal, you see, and yearned for him in a +sort of fourteen-year-old style, fostered by the intense heat of the +Tropics. But Mercier, not yet very long from home, held back--because +of certain inhibitions. Sometimes he thought he would ask for her in +marriage--which was ridiculous, and showed that life in the Far East, +especially in a prison colony, affects the brain. At other times, he +thought how very awkward it would be, in such a little, circumscribed +community as that, if he did not ask her in marriage. Suppose she +babbled--as she might well do. There is no accounting for the +feeble-minded. But as the days grew on, madder and wilder he became, +earlier and earlier he arose to meet her, to go forth to find her on +the red road beneath the mountains. There she was always waiting for +him, while the Kling, her attendant, squatted chewing betel nut a +little farther on. + + * * * * * + +In time, he had enough. He had had quite enough. She was a stupid +fool, half-witted. He grew quite satiated. Also she grew alarmed. Very +much alarmed. But always, in the distance, with his back discreetly +turned, sat her Kling guardian, the paroled prisoner, chewing betel +nut. So his way out was easy. One day, about eleven o'clock in the +morning, clad in very immaculate white clothes, he came to call upon +the child's parents, with a painful duty to perform. He must report +what he had seen. When out taking his constitutional, he had seen +certain things in an isolated spot of the red road, leading up to the +mountains. These paroled prisoners could not be trusted--he had +intimated as much weeks ago. Therefore he made his report, his painful +report, as compelled by duty. In his pocket was his release--the +acceptance of his resignation. His recall from his post. When the boat +came in next time--that day, in fact--he would go. But he could not +go, with a clear conscience, till he had reported on what he had seen. +The Kling--the old, stupid, trusted Kling--stupid to trust a child +like that with a servant like that---- + +So the Kling was hanged next morning, and Mercier sailed away that +afternoon, when the little steamer came in. The little colony on the +island of prisoners went on with its life as usual. Ah, bah! There was +no harm done! She was so very immature! Mercier need not have exacted +the life of the Kling servant, after all. He was supersensitive and +over-scrupulous. Life in a prison colony in the Far East certainly +affects one's judgment. + + + + +CANTERBURY CHIMES + + + + +VII + +CANTERBURY CHIMES + + +I + +The Colonial Bishop lay spread out on his long, rattan chair, idly +contemplating the view of the harbour, as seen from his deep, cool +verandah. As he lay there, pleasant thoughts crossed his mind, swam +across his consciousness in a continuous stream, although, properly +speaking, he was not thinking at all. The thoughts condensed in +patches, were mere agglomerations of feelings and impressions, and +they strung themselves across his mind as beads are strung along a +string. His mental fingers, however, slipped the beads along, and he +derived an impression of each bead as it passed before his half closed +eyes. The first that appeared was a sense of physical well-being. He +liked the climate. This climate of the Far Eastern Tropics, which so +few people could stand, much less enjoy. But he liked it; he liked its +enclosing sense of warmth and dampness and heavy scented atmosphere. +Never before had he brought such an appetite to his meals, or so +enjoyed his exercise, or revelled in perspiration after a hard bicycle +ride, and so enjoyed the cool wash and splash in the Java jar +afterwards. The climate suited him admirably. It made one very fit, +physically, and was altogether delightful. From this you will see that +the Bishop was a young man, not over forty-five. + +Then the servants. Good boys he had, well trained, obedient, +anticipative, amusing, picturesque in their Oriental dress. Rather +trying because of their laziness, but not too exasperating to be a +real irritant. So many people found native servants a downright source +of annoyance--even worse than the climate--but for himself, he had +never found them so. They gave him no trouble at all, and he had been +out ten years, so ought to know. + +The native life was charming too, so rich in colour, in all its gay +costumes. Surely the first Futurists must have been the Orientals. No +modern of the most ultra-modern school had ever revelled in such +gorgeous colour combinations, in such daring contrasts and lurid +extremes, as did these dark hued people, in their primitive +simplicity. He liked them all, decent and docile. He liked their +earrings--only that day he had counted a row of nine in the ear of +some wandering juggler. Nose rings too--how pretty they were, nose +rings. Rubies too, and most of them real, doubtless. How well they +looked in the nostril of a thin, aquiline brown nose. It all went with +the country. Barbaric, perhaps, contrasted with other standards, but +beautiful--in its way. He would not change it for the world. + +And the perfumes! A faint scent of gardenias was at that moment being +wafted in from his well-kept, rich gardens, where somehow his boys +managed to make flowers grow in the brown, devitalised earth. For the +soil was devitalised, surely. It got no rest, year in, year out. For +centuries it had nourished, in one long, eternal season, the great +rich mass of tropical vegetation. European flowers would not grow in +the red earth, or the black earth, whichever it was--he had been +accustomed to think of red or black earth as being rich, but out here +in the Tropics, it was unable to produce, for more than a brief +season, the flowers and shrubs that were native to his home land. But +gardenias and frangipanni---- + +The next bead that slipped along was the memory of an Arab street at +dusk--the merchants sitting at their shop fronts, the gloom of the +little, narrow shops, the glow of rich stuffs and rich colours that +lay in neat piles on the shelves, and the scent of incense burning in +little earthenware braziers at the door of each shop--how sweet was +the warm air, laden with this deeply sweet smell of burning, glowing +incense---- + +A step sounded on the verandah, and the Bishop concluded his revery +abruptly. It was not the nearly noiseless step of a bare foot, such as +his servants. It was the step of someone in European shoes, yet +without the firm, decided tramp of a European. Yet the tread of a +European shoe, muffled to the slithering, soft effect of a native +foot. A naked foot, booted. This was the Bishop's hour of rest, and +his servants had instructions to admit no one. Well, no one in a +general sense, yet there were always two or three recognised +exceptions. But it was not one of these exceptions, coming in +noiselessly like that. The Bishop sprang up, standing straddle of his +long chair, and looking fixedly in the direction of the approaching +sound. He hated interruptions, and was indignant to think that any one +should have slipped in, past the eyes of his watchful servants. Just +then a figure appeared at the far end of the verandah, a white clad +figure rapidly advancing. A dark skinned, slim figure, clad in white +linen European clothes, even down to a pair of new, ill fitting, white +canvas shoes with rubber soles. That accounted for the sound +resembling bare feet. Really, they could never wear shoes properly, +these natives, however much they might try. + +Still standing straddle across his chair, the Bishop called out +angrily to the intruder. Since he was not a European, and obviously +not a native Prince--native princes never slithered in like that, all +the pomp of the East heralded their coming--the Bishop could afford to +let his annoyance manifest itself in his voice. Therefore he called +out sharply, asking the stranger's business. + +A slim youth stepped forward, bare headed, hollow chested, very dark +in the gathering twilight, and his hands clasped together as if in +supplication, stood out blackly against the whiteness of his tunic. +The Bishop noticed that they were trembling. Well they might, for he +had taken a great liberty, by this presumptuous, unannounced visit. It +had a sort of sneaking character about it. Coming to steal, perhaps, +and being surprised in the act, had determined to brazen it out under +the pretext of a visit. The young man, however, walked boldly up to +the Bishop's chair, and the Bishop, rather taken aback, sat himself +down again and extended his legs on the rest, in their usual +comfortable position. + +"I've come to see you, Sir," began the stranger, using very good +English though with a marked native accent, "on a question of great +importance. On a matter of principle--of high principle. I've never +seen you before, but you are known to me by reputation." + +The Bishop snorted at this piece of impudence, but the youth went on +unabashed. + +"A very noble reputation, if I may presume to say so. But you know +that, of course. What you are, what you stand for. Therefore I have +dared to come to you for help. It is not a matter of advice--that +does not enter in at all. But I want your great help--on our side. To +right a great, an immense, an immensely growing wrong." + +The youth hesitated and stopped, wringing his dark, thin hands +together in evident agitation. The Bishop surveyed him coldly, with +curiosity, without sympathy, enjoying his embarrassment. So that was +it--some grievance, real or fancied. Fancied, most likely. He felt a +distinct sense of resentment that his hour of repose should have been +broken in upon so rudely by this native--bringing him wrongs to +redress in this uncalled for manner. There were plenty of people in +the Bishop's service expressly appointed for the purpose of looking +into complaints and attending to them. To bring them up to +headquarters, to the Bishop himself, was an act of downright +impertinence. Very much as if a native should bring his petty quarrels +up to the Governor-General. These thoughts passed through the Bishop's +mind as he regarded the intruder with a fixed and most unfriendly eye. +A few moments of hesitating silence followed, while the Bishop watched +the darting movements of a lizard on the wall, and waited for the +stranger to continue. + +"I want your help," went on the youth in a low voice. "You are so +powerful--you can do so much. Not as a man, but because of your +office. Perhaps as a man, too, for they say you are a good and just +man. But the combination of a strong man in a high office----" + +Still no help from the Bishop. That he did not clap his hands together +and call for his servants to have this intruder thrown out, marked +him, in his estimation, as the kind of man that the youth had +suggested. A just and liberal man. Very well, he was ready to listen. +Now that he was caught, so to speak, and obliged to listen against his +will. + +"It's about the opium traffic," explained the young man, breathing +hard with excitement, and wringing his thin hands together in +distress. + +"Oh, that's it, is it?" exclaimed the Bishop, breaking silence. "I +thought it must be some such thing. I mean, something that is no +concern of mine--nor yours either," he concluded sharply. + +"It is both my concern and your concern," replied the young man +solemnly, "both yours and mine. Your race, your country, is sinning +against my race and my country----" + +"Your country!" interrupted the Bishop disdainfully. + +"Yes, my country!" exclaimed the young man proudly. "Mine still, for +all that you have conquered it, and civilized it and degraded it!" + +The Bishop sprang up from his chair angrily, and then sank back again, +determined to listen. He would let this fellow say all he had to say, +and then have him arrested afterwards. He would let him condemn +himself out of his own mouth. How well they spoke English too, these +educated natives. + +"What is this Colony, Sir," continued the young man gaining control of +himself, "but a market for the opium your Government sells? For you +know, Sir, as well as I, that the sale of opium is a monopoly of your +Government. And we are helpless, defenceless, powerless to protect +ourselves. And do you know what your Government makes out of this +trade, Sir--the revenue it collects from selling opium to my people? +Three quarters of the revenue of this Colony are derived from opium. +Your Government runs this colony on our degradation. You build your +roads, your forts, your schools, your public buildings, on this vice +that you have forced upon us. Before you came, with your civilization, +we were decent. Very decent, on the whole. Now look at us--what do you +see? How many shops in this town are licensed by your Government for +the sale of opium--and the license money pocketed as revenue? How many +opium divans, where we may smoke, are licensed by your Government, and +the license money pocketed as part of the revenue?" + +"You needn't smoke unless you wish to," remarked the Bishop drily. "We +don't force you to do it. We don't put the pipe between your teeth and +insist upon your drugging yourselves. How many shops do you say there +are--how many smoking places? Several hundred? We don't force you into +them, I take it. You go of your own choice, don't you? We Europeans +don't do it. It's as free for us as it is for you. We have the same +opportunities to kill ourselves--I suppose that's how you look at +it--as you do. Yet somehow we abstain. If you can't resist----" + +The Bishop shrugged his shoulders. Yet he rather despised himself for +the argument. It sounded cheap and unworthy, somehow. The youth, +however, did not seem to resent it, and went on sadly. + +"It's true," he said, "we need not, I suppose. Yet you know," he +continued humbly, "we are a very simple people. We are very primitive, +very--lowly. We didn't understand at first, and now it's too late. +We've most of us got the habit, and the rest are getting it. We're +weak and ignorant. We want you to protect us from ourselves. Just as +you protect your own people--at home. You don't import it into your +own country--you don't want to corrupt your own people. But what about +the races you colonise and subject--who can't protect themselves? It's +not fair!" he concluded passionately, "and besides, this year you have +sold us two millions more than last year----" + +"Where did you get your figures?" broke in the Bishop with rising +indignation. This cowering, trembling boy seemed to have all the +arguments on his side. + +"From your own reports, Sir. Government reports. Compiled by your own +officials." + +"And how did _you_ obtain a Government report?" asked the Bishop +angrily. "Spying, eh?" + +The young man ignored the insult, and went on patiently. "Some are +distributed free, others may be bought at the book shops. There is one +lying on your table this moment, Sir." + +"Well enough for me," remarked the Bishop, "but how did you come by +it?" The sharp eyes had recognised the fat, blue volume buried under a +miscellaneous litter of books and pamphlets on a wicker table. A lean +finger pointed towards it, and the accusing voice went on. + +"There is more than opium in that Report, Sir. Look at the schools. +How little schooling do you give us, how little money do you spend for +them. We are almost illiterate--yet you have ruled us for many years. +How little do you spend on schools, so that you may keep us submissive +and ignorant? You know how freely you provide us with opium, so that +we may be docile and easy to manage--easy to manage and exploit." + +The Bishop sprang up from his chair, making a grasp for the white coat +of his tormentor, but the fellow nimbly avoided him, and darted to the +other side of the table. It was almost completely dark by this time, +and the Bishop could not pursue his guest in the gloom, nor could he +reach the bell. + +"Are you a Seditionist, Sir? How dare you criticise the Government?" +The answer was immediate and unexpected. + +"Yes, I criticise the Government--just as I have been criticising it +to you. But more in sorrow than in anger. Although in time the anger +may come. Therefore that is why I have come to you--for help, before +our anger comes. You are a strong man, a just, a liberal man--so I'm +told. You hold a high position in the Church maintained by your +Government, just as the opium traffic is maintained by your +Government. Both are Government monopolies." + +In the distance the cathedral chimes rang over the still air--the old, +sweet Canterbury chimes, pealing the full round, for it was the hour. +Then the hour struck, and both men counted it, mechanically. + +"Your salary, Sir--as well as the salaries of the other priests of +your established church, out here in this Colony--comes from the +established opium trade. Your Canterbury chimes ring out, every +fifteen minutes, over the opium dens of the Crown!" + +At this supreme insult the Bishop leaped at his tormentor, striking a +blow into space. The youth bounded over the low rail of the verandah +and disappeared amongst the shrubbery in the darkness. + +To say that the Bishop was shaken by this interview is to put it +mildly. For he was a good man in his way, and moreover, in a certain +restricted sense, a religious one. But he was lazy and not inclined to +meddle in affairs that did not concern him. And colonial politics and +the management of colonial affairs were certainly not his concern. +Nevertheless, the horrible grouping together of facts, as the young +Seditionist had grouped them for him, their adroit placing together, +with the hideous, unavoidable connection between them, upset him +tremendously. He sat on in the darkness trying to think, trying to +see his way clear, trying to excuse or to justify. He had never +thought of these things before, yet he well knew of their existence. +All sorts of injustices abounded in civilized states--it was perhaps +worse in the colonies. Yet even in the colonies, little by little they +were being weeded out, or adjusted. Yet this particular evil, somehow, +seemed to flourish untouched. Not an effort was made to uproot it. The +only effort made, apparently, was to increase and encourage it. And +with the acquiescence of men like himself. All for what--for money? +For Crown revenues! Pretty poor business, come to think of it. Surely, +if the Colony could not exist by honest and legitimate trade, it might +better not exist at all. To thrive upon the vices of a subject people, +to derive nearly the whole revenue from those vices, really, somehow, +it seemed incompatible with--with--that nasty fling about the Church! + +He rang for his boy, and a lamp was brought in and placed upon the +table beside him, and the Bishop reached over for the unheeded Report, +which had been lying on the table so long. The columns of figures +seemed rather formidable--he hated statistics, but he applied himself +to the Report conscientiously. Yes, there it was in all its simplicity +of crude, bald statements, just as the young man had said. Glaring, +horrible facts, disgraceful facts. For an hour he sat absorbed in +them, noting the yearly increase in consumption as indicated by the +yearly increase in revenue. Three quarters of the revenue from +opium--one quarter from other things. He wondered vaguely about his +salary; that painful allusion to it troubled him. It was just possible +that it came from the one quarter derived from legitimate trade. +Certainly, it was quite possible. But on the other hand, there was an +unquiet suspicion that perhaps it didn't. + +The Bishop moved into the dining room, carrying the fat Blue Book +under his arm, and read it carefully during his solitary meal. Those +carefully compiled tables, somehow, did not do credit to what he had +heretofore been pleased to consider the greatest colonising nation in +the world. Were all colonies like that--run on these principles? Yet +the Government, apparently, had felt no hesitation in setting forth +these facts explicitly. Presumably the Government felt justified. Yet +it certainly was not--the word honourable rose to his mind, but he +suppressed it at once--however, nothing else suggested itself. Years +ago, so many years ago that he had lost count, the Bishop had worked +for a time in the East End. He had had clubs and classes, and worked +with the young men. He used to know a good deal about certain things, +and to feel strongly---- But since then he had become prosperous, and +a high dignitary in the Church. Something stirred uneasily in the back +of his mind, as he dawdled over his dinner and turned the pages of the +Blue Book---- + +Then he went back to the verandah again, and subsided into his long +chair. He sat in darkness, for he disliked the night-flying insects of +the Tropics, and had a nervous horror of them. Lamps made them +worse--brought them in thicker shoals. He gazed out at the twinkling +lights of the vessels at anchor in the harbour. There were many ships +in the roadway to-night, a sight which would ordinarily have pleased +him, but his thoughts were in sharp contrast now to his comfortable, +contented thoughts of a few hours ago. + + +II + +The Bishop spent rather a wakeful night, that is, until about two in +the morning, at which hour he settled his problem and fell asleep. It +finally resolved itself in his mind as a matter for him to let alone. +He could not better it, and had not the smallest intention of making a +martyr of himself, of resigning his office, or of incurring any of the +other disagreeable experiences which beset the path of the moral +crusader. No, he could do nothing, for at two o'clock, as we have +said, he had arrived at the conclusion that the evil--if such it could +be called, since there was considerable doubt on the subject--had +reached a magnitude which no single individual could deal with. +Whereupon he wisely dismissed the matter from his mind. Not having +gone to sleep till late he was considerably annoyed when his China-boy +arrived at six with his early tea. This sense of irritation still +clung to him when an hour later he sat down on the verandah facing the +harbour and began his breakfast. Even after ten years in the Tropics, +the Bishop still continued to enjoy bacon and eggs with unabated +relish, and these did something, this morning, to mitigate his ill +humour. A fresh papaya, with a dozen seeds left in as flavouring, also +helped. Finally the boy came in and laid letters by his plate. Home +letters, bearing the familiar postmarks, so dear to dwellers in +outlying parts of the world. A small Malay kriss, with a handle of +ivory and silver and a blade of five waves served as letter opener. +The Bishop slit each envelope carefully, and laid the pile back on the +table, to be read slowly, with full enjoyment. One by one he went +through them, smiling a little, or frowning, as it happened. The mail +from Home was early this week--evidently it had come in last evening, +although he had not seen the steamer in the roads. All the better--all +the more of a surprise. + +He stopped suddenly, anxiously, and an open letter in his hand +trembled violently. He finished it hurriedly, went through it a second +time, and again once more before he could acknowledge its meaning. + + "MY DEAR BROTHER" [it began, with a formality about the opening + that boded trouble], "I write to you in great distress, but + sure that you will respond to the great demand I am about to + make upon you, upon all the kindness which you have shown us + for these many years. Herbert, your namesake, is in deep + trouble--disgrace, I might better say. Never mind the details. + They are sufficiently serious, sufficiently humiliating. We + have managed to cover it up, to conceal what we can, but for + the present at least, or until this blows over, it is + impossible for him to remain at home. It has all come about so + suddenly, so unexpectedly, that there has been no time to write + to you to obtain your consent. But he must leave home at once, + and there is no one to whom we can send him except yourself. In + his present position, feeling the deep dishonour that he has + brought upon himself, upon all of us in fact, we do not dare to + send him forth into the world alone. Therefore, without delay, + we are sending him to you, feeling sure of your response. Under + your guidance and care, with the inestimable benefits that he + will derive through the association with such a man as + yourself, we hope that he will recover his normal balance. Take + him in, do what you can for him for all our sakes. He has + always been devoted to you, although it was a lad's + devotion--you have not seen him for several years, and he is + now twenty. Put him to work, do whatever you think best for + him; we give him entirely into your hands. We turn to you in + this hour of our distress, knowing that you will not fail us. + + "Such is the urgency, that he is going out to you on the boat + that carries this letter. Failing that, he will leave in any + event on the boat of the following week. We regret that there + has not been sufficient time to prepare you. He will be no + expense, being well provided with funds, although in future I + shall make out his remittances in your name. In haste, in + grief, and with all love, + + "Your affectionate brother, + + "ALLAN." + +The Bishop sat thunderstruck in his chair, aghast at his predicament. +Here was a pretty situation! A scapegrace nephew, who had done heavens +knew what dishonourable thing--the Bishop thought of a dozen things +all at once, all equally disgraceful and equally probable,--was about +to be quartered upon him, in his peaceful, ordered, carefree life, for +an indefinite period! Really, it was intolerable. What did he, the +Bishop, know of young men and their difficulties? Who was he to guide +the footsteps of an erring one? What practical experience had he in +such matters--it was one thing to expound certain niceties of +theological doctrine, which, after all, had little bearing on daily +life--and quite another to become guardian and preceptor to a young +scamp. For he was a scamp, obviously. And of all places in the world, +to send a weak, undisciplined person out to the Colony--this rather +notorious Colony where even those of the highest principles had some +difficulty in holding to the path. It was obvious that the place for +this young man was in his home--in the home of his father and mother, +who while they had doubtless spoiled him, must nevertheless retain a +certain influence. He needed all the kindness and loving care that a +home could give. The Bishop sought refuge in platitudes, for of such +consisted his daily thoughts, running through his brain in certain +well defined, well worn brain paths. Then a wave of indignation passed +over him concerning his brother--the selfishness of turning his son +out, at this time of all times! Of shirking responsibility towards +him, of turning that responsibility over to another! To another whom +he had not even consulted! All his life his brother had had what he +wanted--riches, a beautiful home, an easy life. Yet at the first +breath of trouble he evaded his responsibilities and dumped them upon +another! + +The Bishop worked himself up into a fine fury, seeing his future plans +upset, his easy-going life diverted from its normal, flowing course by +the advent of this scapegrace nephew. His eyes rested once more upon +the letter: "He is going out to you on the boat that carries this +letter." If so, then he must have already landed and would appear at +any moment. For the mailboat must have come in last night, and the +passengers had either been put ashore last evening, or had been put +ashore at sunrise, supposing the boat remained discharging cargo all +night. It was now eight o'clock. The youth should have been here. +Apparently, then, he had failed to catch this boat, and was coming the +following week. But the Bishop was troubled; he must go into town and +make sure. Since he was to be burdened with the rascal for a week (but +only for a week, he would send him packing home by the next boat, he +promised himself) his sense of duty prompted him to act at once. He +raised his fine, thin hands and clapped them together smartly. + +"Rickshaw! Quickly!" he ordered the China-boy who appeared in answer +to his summons. A few minutes later he descended the broad steps of +the verandah and entered his neat, black rickshaw, with highly +polished brasses, drawn by two boys in immaculate white livery. The +Bishop kept no carriage--that would have seemed ostentatious--but his +smart, black rickshaw was to be seen all over town, stopping before +houses of high and low degree, but mostly high. + +He reached the quais after a sharp run, passing the godowns filled +with rubber, which gave forth its peculiar, permeating odour upon the +heavy, stagnant air of the harbourside. No, the mailboat had gone on, +had weighed anchor early in the morning, at sunrise, they told him, +and had continued on her way up the coast. No such passenger as he +described had been landed--no one by that name. The Bishop, leaning +upon the worn counter in the dingy shipping office, scrutinised the +passenger list carefully. There was a name there, certainly, that +suggested his nephew's, but with two or three wrong letters. Not +enough for a positive identification, but perhaps done purposely, as a +disguise. Could the youth have deliberately done this? It was +possible. When pressed for a description, the Bishop was most hazy. He +could only say that he was searching for a young man, about twenty. +The agent told him that twenty young men, about twenty, had come +ashore. The Bishop was not quite satisfied, was vaguely uneasy, but +there was nothing to be done. However, when the day passed and no +nephew appeared, he drew a long breath of relief. He was safe for +another week. Had a week before him in which to formulate his plans. +And he would formulate them too, he promised himself, and would put +the responsibility of this irresponsible young creature back upon the +shoulders where it belonged. It was a great temptation not to return +to the shipping office again and engage a berth on the next homeward +bound liner, but on second thought, he determined not to do so. Above +all things he prided himself on being just and liberal. He would give +his nephew a week's trial in the Colony, after which the letter +returning him to his father would bear the air of resigned but +seasoned judgment, rather than the unreasoning impulse of a moment's +irritation. A week's guardianship, and--well, so it should be. Nothing +longer, no greater incursion into his smooth, harmonious existence. + +The week of anticipation passed slowly. After the first shock was +over, after the first sense of imposition had passed away, and he +found himself with a week for consideration, he became more decided +than ever on his course of action. Mentally, he began many letters to +his brother, usually beginning, "I regret exceedingly," from which +beginning he launched out into well balanced, well phrased excuses, of +admirable logic, by means of which he proved the imperative necessity +of finding other anchorage for this stray and apparently very frail +bark. Of necessity these letters were vague, since he did not know +what particular form of frailty he had to contend with. Of one thing, +however, he was sure--the Colony offered opportunities for the +indulgence of every form known to man, with none of those nice +restrictions which are thrown round such opportunities in more +civilized parts of the globe. He would explain all this at length, as +soon as he knew upon which points to concentrate his argument. But, +take it by and large, there were no safeguards of any sort, and only +the strongest and most upright could walk uprightly amidst such +perils. + +The coming of the next liner was awaited with much anxiety. The Bishop +had gone so far as to confide to a few friends that a young nephew +would arrive with her, for a week's stay--on his way elsewhere. He +remembered the boy, his namesake. Rather a handsome little chap as he +recalled him--perhaps under more auspicious circumstances it might +have been a pleasure to have had a visit from him. But this suddenly +becoming endowed with him for weeks or months--it might be years, +perhaps--quite another matter. + +When the mailboat arrived one afternoon, the Bishop's rickshaw stood +at the jetty, while the Bishop himself, in his immaculate gaiters, +with his sash blowing in the soft wind, stood at the end of the jetty +anxiously regarding the tender making its way inshore. She was crowded +with a miscellaneous throng of passengers, among whom were many young +men, all strange, new, expectant young men coming out for the first +time, but among them he saw no face that resembled the one he was +searching for. Which might possibly be, he reflected, since the face, +as he recalled it at the time of their last meeting many years ago, +was very childish and immature. The tender made fast to the steps, and +amidst much luggage, much scrambling of coolies and general disorder, +the passengers came off. The Bishop standing on the steps scrutinised +each one carefully. Not there. Nor was there a second trip to the +liner, since the tender had fetched ashore all who were to disembark +at that port. The Bishop turned away with mingled feelings, part +relief, part indignation. Another week of suspense to be gone through +with, and after that, another week before he could release himself of +his burden. It was all exceedingly trying and unreasonable--the +feeling of irritation against his brother mounted higher--it was +outrageous, keeping him upset this way. + +Then a thought suddenly came into his mind. That name on the passenger +list a week ago, the name slightly different yet curiously +alike--could it have been altered slightly on purpose? Ashamed to face +him, ashamed to come to him? Bundled off in disgrace from home, +willy-nilly, and now here,--hiding? + +A wave of sick apprehension came over the Bishop. Agonising fear. He +must see Walker at once. Walker, his old friend, who would know what +to do, what to advise. If only he were in town. + +Walker was in town as it happened, and the Bishop found him at his +hotel, and poured out to him all his wretched anxieties, the whole +miserable business, not sparing himself in describing his attitude of +unwelcome and unwillingness to receive the boy, and concluding with +his sick fears concerning his safety. Walker listened gravely and +attentively, and was troubled. It was very possible indeed--more than +possible. A search must be begun at once. Fortunately, in that small +community, it was not easy for a foreigner to disappear, and a +stranger could not go inland, into the interior, undetected. +Therefore, if he was here at all, he would soon be found--somewhere. +He would set in motion the machinery immediately. First the hotels; +that was easy. Then the other places. It would doubtless be necessary +to call in the police. + +The Bishop begged for secrecy--no publicity. Walker promised. That, +too, would be easy. Leave it to him. The Bishop might rest easy on +that score--no publicity. Walker would do everything himself, as far +as possible. Only, he might have to send for the Bishop, if it became +necessary, to identify---- + +Two nights later, the Bishop was reclining on the long chair on his +verandah, while overhead the heavy punkah fans swayed to and fro, +stirring the moist, warm air. Out in the harbour the lights gleamed +fitfully, the lanterns on the bobbing sampans contrasting with the +steadier beams of the big ships anchored in the roadway. The ships of +the Orient, congregated from the Seven Seas, full of the mystery and +romance of the East. He had left it to Walker--as he had been told. In +the darkness, with one hand clasped behind his head and the other +holding a glowing cigar, he contemplated the scene, his favourite hour +of the day. Each moment another and another light flitted across the +heavy blackness, showing red or green, while the lights on the moving +sampans darted back and forth in the darkness, restless and alert. He +had left it to Walker. He had stopped thinking of his impending nephew +for a few moments, and his mind had relaxed, as the mind relaxes when +an evil has been postponed from time to time, and normal feeling +reasserts itself after the reprieve. There was a quiet footfall on the +verandah, and the Bishop was aroused from his meditations. His Chinese +servant approached deferentially. "Man want see Master," he explained +laconically, with the imperturbability of the East. + +"What like man?" enquired the Bishop, in pidgin English. "China man," +came the response. "Must see Master. All belong velly important." + +A quick foreboding possessed the Bishop, even in this hour of his +tranquillity. + +"Show him here," he replied, after a second's consideration. A tall +figure appeared before him, bowing. A lean, very dirty Chinese, who +bowed repeatedly. In spite of the Oriental repression of feeling, it +was plain that he was troubled. He extended a lean, claw-like hand, +with a long and very dirty nail on the little finger, and offered a +soiled letter to the Bishop. + +"Velly important. All belong much tlouble," he explained, and tucked +his hands well inside his long blue sleeves, and stood by impassively, +while the Bishop received the letter, crumpled and soiled, as if +carried for a long time in a pocket. He turned it over and found it +addressed to himself. There was no stamp. The handwriting was +Walker's. The Bishop started erect in his long chair, and then sprang +up, straddling it as usual. + +"Where get this?" he asked excitedly. The impassive Chinese bowed once +more. + +"Say come quick. Letter velly important. Letter belong you. No police. +My savee you want letter now." He backed away, still bowing. With a +sweep of his arm he indicated the dark night outside. + +"You come quick," he repeated, "or call police." By the light of a +lamp which his obsequious but curious Chinese servant carried in, the +Bishop tore open Walker's letter, read it, then crushed it hurriedly +into his pocket. + +"Come quick," reiterated the unknown Chinese, "I got lickshaw." The +Bishop strode forward across the verandah, snatching at his hat as he +went, and then hastened across the lawn with hurried steps, followed +by the Chinese pacing rapidly behind him. Two rickshaws were waiting +under the street lamp, two shabby rickshaws. Yet somehow, the Bishop +did not care for his own private conveyance at this moment, did not +wish the sharp, inquisitive eyes of his runners to follow him just +then. He mounted hastily, and the coolies started off with a will, the +Chinese leading the way. Even in that moment of anxiety, the Bishop +was aware that the Chinese was leading the way, was conscious that the +place of honour was not his--for the first time in his life, his +vehicle followed, second place, a rickshaw that carried a Chinese. + +The distance seemed interminable. Fortunately, at that hour few of his +acquaintances were abroad, but in the anxiety which possessed him, he +scarcely realised it. He was conscious of passing through crowded +streets, the quarter of the Mohammedans, where incense pots were +alight, scenting the warm air. Then the vile-smelling bazaar, crowded +with buyers, bargaining and shouting under the swaying torches. Then +they passed the European section of the town, where the streets were +wide, clean and deserted. They must be going back of the quais now, +for the air was heavy with the acrid scent of rubber. Then they turned +into a narrow, wildly tumultuous street full of Chinese, scattered all +over the road and sidewalk, shouting, calling, beating drums, yelling +wares for sale, the babel of the Chinese quarter, only such as the +Bishop had never seen it. The rickshaws turned many times, up narrow +lanes and alleys, across wider thoroughfares, and finally halted +before a dingy house of many storeys, a foreign-style house, converted +to native uses. They stopped before a red painted door, a double door, +in two halves, like a saloon door. Over the entrance hung a sign, +black and white, in large, sprawling Chinese characters. +Subconsciously, he was aware that he had passed such signs, in such +characters, many times before. A curious and large crowd gathered +before the house parted at their approach, and the filthy Chinese led +the way, followed by the Bishop in his immaculate garb. As they passed +in and the swing doors closed behind them, a throng of yellow faces +peered down and looked under the door, which was hung high. And all +the while, the low, insistent shuffling noises of the crowd outside +penetrated into the dark, dimly lit room in which the Bishop and his +companion found themselves. + +Around three sides of this room, which was narrow, ran a wide bench +covered with dirty matting. Lying at intervals in pairs all along the +bench, were two coolies in a little pen, with a lamp between them, +separated by a narrow ridge from the pen adjoining, which held two +more ragged smokers. The Bishop beheld rows of them, haggard, pallid +rows. A horn lantern was suspended from the ceiling, and the air was +unstirred by punkah, the heavy, foul air reeking with the sickening, +pungent fumes of opium. As he passed, the smokers raised themselves on +their elbows and gazed at him with glazed, dull eyes. The sight of a +Bishop in a low class opium den was unusual, and the dimmed brains of +the smokers dimly recognised the distraction. Then, as he moved on, +they sank down again upon their wooden pillows, and with slow, +infinite pains, set themselves to roll their bits of opium, to cook it +over the dim lamps that dotted the murky atmosphere with glints of +light, and to resume their occupations. + +At the back of the room, the proprietor paused before a part of the +bench where the pen was occupied by one smoker only, a foreigner. The +foreigner lay stretched out in an awkward attitude, knees drawn up, +his head sliding off the wooden block, most uncomfortable. A candle +was thrust into the Bishop's unsteady hand. + +"Looksee," whispered a voice. The Bishop looked. "All lite?" +questioned the anxious voice of the proprietor, "Die lil' while ago. +No can smoke like China boys. No can do." + +The Bishop continued to look at the beautiful, disdainful head of the +young foreigner, sliding limply off its wooden pillow. + +"All lite?" continued the whining voice insistently. "My got money. +Have got watch. No steal." A skinny hand with filthy fingernails crept +forth and thrust itself into the pockets of the limp waistcoat, +crumpled so pitifully upon the thin, young figure, and presently a +gold watch was drawn forth. The watch was slowly waved before the +Bishop's eyes, and the case snapped open, so that he could read the +name engraved within. After which the Bishop continued to gaze fixedly +upon the dead youth, lying disgraced upon a bench in one of the lowest +opium dives in the Colony. + +"Smoke here week," went on the insistent voice of the proprietor, "all +time smoke. No go out. No eat. Smoke all same China-boy. No same +China-boy. No can do." + +There was a slight movement at the back of the room, and an object was +passed from hand to hand and finally held for inspection under the +Bishop's nose. In a grimy frame, protected by a square of fly-brown +glass, was a square, official-looking bit of paper. Of value +evidently, since much care had been taken to preserve it. + +"License," went on the explanatory voice. "Gov'ment license. All samee +Gov'ment license. Pay heap money. No can help if man die. Plenty +China-boy die too. This velly lespectable place." + +The Bishop recalled himself as from a dream. During the few moments he +had spent looking down upon the huddled figure, he seemed to have +grown older, to have shrunken down, to have lost something of his +fine, arrogant hearing and conscious superiority. + +"All lite?" whined the voice insistently. "All lite?" "Yes," said the +Bishop shortly, "it's all right." He strode rapidly through the foul +room, through the heavy, tainted, pungent air. Outside, the dense +crowd pressed closely about the swinging doors scattered widely as he +approached. Two policemen were coming down the street, attracted by +the excitement of the crowd. The Bishop got into a rickshaw and drove +homewards. A heavy weight seemed to have been lifted from his mind. +Through the oppressive, hot night air the Canterbury chimes pealed +their mellow notes. + +"Thank God," said the Bishop fervently, "it was not _my_ nephew." + + + + +UNDER A WINEGLASS + + + + +VIII + +UNDER A WINEGLASS + + +A little coasting steamer dropped anchor at dawn at the mouth of +Chanta-Boun creek, and through the long, hot hours she lay there, +gently stirring with the sluggish tide, waiting for the passage-junk +to come down from Chanta-Boun town, twelve miles further up the river. +It was stifling hot on the steamer, and from side to side, whichever +side one walked to, came no breeze at all. Only the warm, enveloping, +moist heat closed down, stifling. Very quiet it was, with no noises or +voices from the after deck, where under the awning lay the languid +deck passengers, sleeping on their bedding rolls. Very quiet it was +ashore, so still and quiet that one could hear the bubbling, sucking +noises of the large land-crabs, pattering over the black, oozy mud, or +the sound of a lean pig scratching himself against the piles of a +native hut, the clustered huts, mounted on stilts, of the village at +the mouth of the creek. + +The Captain came down from the narrow bridge into the narrow saloon. +He was clad in yellow pajamas, his bare feet in native sandals, and +held a well pipeclayed topee in one hand. Impatient he was at the +delay of the passage-junk coming down from up-river, with her possible +trifling cargo, and possible trifling deck-passengers, of which the +little steamer already carried enough. + +"This long wait--it is very annoying," he commented, sitting upon the +worn leather cushions of the saloon bench. "And I had wished for time +enough to stop to see the lonely man. I have made good time on this +trip--all things considered. With time to spare, to make that call, +out of our way. And now the good hours go by, while we wait here, +uselessly." + +"The lonely man?" asked the passenger, who was not a deck-passenger. +He was the only saloon passenger, and because of that, he slept first +in one, then in the other of the two small cabins, alternating +according to which side the wind blew from. + +"You would not mind, perhaps," continued the Captain, "if, after +all--in spite of this long delay--we still found time for the lonely +man? An unscheduled call, much out of our way--oh, a day's sail from +here, and we, as you know, go slowly----" + +"Three days from now--four days from now--it matters little to me when +we reach Bangkok," said the passenger largely, "but tell me of this +man." + +Upon the sideboard, under an inverted wineglass, sat a small gilt +Buddha, placed there by the China-boys. The Captain fixed his eyes +upon the Buddha. + +"Like that. Immovable and covered in close, sitting still in a small +space. Covered in. Some one turned a wineglass over on him, long ago, +and now he sits, still and immovable like that. It makes my heart +ache." + +"Tell me. While we are waiting." + +"Three years ago," began the Captain dreamily, still looking at the +tiny gilt Buddha in its inverted wineglass, "he came aboard. Bound for +nowhere in particular--to Bangkok, perhaps, since we were going that +way. Or to any other port he fancied along the coast, since we were +stopping all along the coast. He wanted to lose himself, he said. And, +as you have seen, we stop at many remote, lonely villages, such as +this one. And we have seen many lonely men, foreigners, isolated in +villages such as this one, unknown, removed, forgotten. But none of +them suited him. He had been looking for the proper spot for many +years. Wandering up and down the coast, in cargo-boats, in little +coasting vessels, in sailing vessels, sometimes in native junks, +stopping here and there, looking for a place where he could go off and +live by himself. He wanted to be quite, absolutely, to himself. He +said he should know the place immediately, if he saw it--recognise it +at once. He said he could find himself if he could get quite +absolutely away. Find himself, that is, recover himself--something, a +part of him which he had lost. Just temporarily lost. He was very +wistful and very eager, and said I must not think him a fool, or +demented. He said he only wanted to be by himself, in the right spot, +to accomplish his purpose. He would accomplish his purpose and then +return. + +"Can you see him, the lonely man, obsessed, going up and down the +China Coast, shipping at distant ports, one after another, on +fruitless quests, looking for a place to disembark. The proper place +to disembark, the place which he should recognise, should know for his +own place, which would answer the longing in him which had sent him +searching round the world, over the Seven Seas of the world. The spot +in which he could find himself again and regain what he had lost. + +"There are many islands hereabouts," went on the Captain. "Hundreds. +Desert. He thought one would suit him. So I put him down on one, going +out of my way to find it for him. He leaned over the rail of the +bridge, and said to me 'We are getting nearer.' Then he said that he +saw it. So I stopped the ship and put him down. He was very grateful. +He said he liked to be in the Gulf of Siam. That the name had a +picturesque sound, the Pirate Islands. He would live all by himself on +one of the Pirate Islands, in the Gulf of Siam. Isolated and remote, +but over one way was the coast of Indo-China, and over the other way +was the coast of Malay. Neighbourly, but not too near. He should +always feel that he could get away when he was ready, what with so +much traffic through the Gulf, and the native boats now and then. He +was mistaken about the traffic, but I did not tell him so. I knew +where he was and could watch him. I placed a cross on the chart, on +his island, so that I might know where I had left him. And I promised +myself to call upon him, from time to time--to see when he should be +ready to face the world again." + +The Captain spread a chart upon the table. + +"Six degrees north latitude," he remarked, "Ten thousand miles +from----" + +"Greenwich," supplied the passenger, anxious to show that he knew. + +"From Her," corrected the Captain. + +"He told me about her a little. I added the rest, from what he +omitted. It all happened quite a long time ago, which was the bother +of it. And because it had taken place so long ago, and had endured for +so long a time, it made it more difficult for him to recover himself +again. Do you think people ever recover themselves again? When the +precious thing in them, the spirit of them has been overlaid and +overlaid, covered deep with artificial layers----? + +"The marvel was that he wanted to regain it--wanted to break through. +Most don't. The other thing is so easy. Money--of course. She had it, +and he loved her. He had none, and she loved him. She had had money +always, had lived with it, lived on it, it got into her very bones. +And he had not two shillings to rub together, but he possessed the +gift--genius. But they met somewhere, and fell in love with each +other, and that ended him. She took him, you see, and gave him all she +had. It was marvellous to do it, for she loved him so. Took him from +his four shilling attic into luxury. Out of his shabby, poor, worn +clothes into the best there were. From a penny 'bus into superb +motors. With all the rest of it to match. And he accepted it all +because he loved her, and it was the easiest way. Besides, just before +she had come into his life, he had written--well, whatever it +was--however, they all praised him, the critics and reviewers, and +called him the coming man, and he was very happy about it, and she +seemed to come into his life right at the top of his happiness over +his work. And sapped it. Didn't mean to, but did. Cut his genius down +at the root. Said his beginning fame was quite enough--quite enough +for her, for her friends, for the society into which she took him. +They all praised him without understanding how great he was, or +considering his future. They took him at her valuation, which was +great enough. But she thought he had achieved the summit. Did not +know, you see, that there was anything more. + +"He was so sure of himself, too, during those first few years. Young +and confident, conscious of his power. Drifting would not matter for a +while. He could afford to drift. His genius would ripen, he told +himself, and time was on his side. So he drifted, very happy and +content, ripening. And being overlaid all the time, deeper and +thicker, with this intangible, transparent, strong wall, hemming him +in, shutting in the gold, just like that little joss there under the +wineglass. + +"She lavished on him everything, without measure. But she had no +knowledge of him, really. Just another toy he was, the best of all, in +her luxurious equipment. So he travelled the world with her, and dined +at the Embassies of the world, East and West, in all the capitals of +Europe and of Asia. Getting restive finally, however, as the years +wore on. Feeling the wineglass, as it were, although he could not see +it. Looking through its clear transparency, but feeling pressed, +somehow, conscious of the closeness. But he continued to sit still, +not much wishing to move, to stretch himself. + +"Then sounds from the other side began to filter in, echoing largely +in his restricted space, making within it reverberations that carried +vague uneasiness, producing restlessness. He shifted himself within +his space, and grew conscious of limitations. From without came the +voices, insistent, asking what he was doing now? Meaning, what thing +was he writing now, for a long time had passed since he had written +that which called forth the praise of men. There came to him, within +his wineglass, these demands from the outside. Therefore he grew very +uneasy, and tried to rise, and just then it was that he began to feel +how close the crystal walls surrounded him. He even wanted to break +them, but a pang at heart told him that was ingratitude. For he loved +her, you see. Never forget that. + +"Now you see how it all came about. He was conscious of himself, of +his power. And while for the first years he had drifted, he was always +conscious of his power. Knew that he had but to rise, to assume +gigantic stature. And then, just because he was very stiff, and the +pain of stiffness and stretching made him uncouth, he grew angry. He +resented his captivity, chafed at his being limited like that, did not +understand how it had come about. It had come about through love. +Through sheer, sheltering love. The equivalent of his for her. She had +placed a crystal cup above him, to keep him safe. And he had sat safe +beneath it all these years, fearing to stir, because she liked him so. + +"It came to a choice at last. His life of happiness with her--or his +work. Poor fool, to have made the choice at that late day. So he broke +his wineglass, and his heart and her heart too, and came away. And +then he found that he could not work, after all. Years of sitting +still had done it. + +"At first he tried to recover himself by going over again the paths +of his youth. A garret in London, a studio off Montparnasse, shabby, +hungry--all no use. He was done for. Futile. Done himself in for no +purpose, for he had lost her too. For you see he planned, when he left +her, to come back shortly, crowned anew. To come back in triumph, for +she was all his life. Nothing else mattered. He just wanted to lay +something at her feet, in exchange for all she had given him. Said he +would. So they parted, heart-broken, crushed, neither one +understanding. But he promised to come back, with his laurels. + +"That parting was long ago. He could not regain himself. After his +failure along the paths of his youth, his garrets and studios, he +tried to recover his genius by visiting again all the parts of the +world he had visited with her. Only this time, humbly. Standing on the +outside of palaces and Embassies, recollecting the times when he had +been a guest within. Rubbing shoulders with the crowd outside, shabby, +poor, a derelict. Seeking always to recover that lost thing. + +"And getting so impatient to rejoin her. Longing for her always. +Coming to see that she meant more to him than all the world beside. +Eating his heart out, craving her. Longing to return, to reseat +himself under his bell. Only now he was no longer gilded. He must gild +himself anew, bright, just as she had found him. Then he could go +back. + +"But it could not be done. He could not work. Somewhere in the world, +he told me, was a spot where he could work. Where there were no +memories. Somewhere in the Seven Seas lay the place. He should know it +when he saw it. After so many years' exclusion, he was certain he +should feel the atmosphere of the place where he could work. And there +he would stay till he finished, till he produced the big thing that +was in him. Thus, regilded, he would return to her again. One more +effort, once more to feel his power, once more to hear the stimulating +rush of praise,--then he would give it up again, quite content to sit +beneath his wine-glass till the end. But this first. + +"So I put him down where I have told you, on a lonely island. Somewhat +north of the Equator, ten thousand miles away from Her. Wistfully, he +said it was quite the right spot. He could feel it. So we helped him, +the China-boys and I, to build a little hut, up on stilts, thatched +with palm leaves. Very desolate it is. On all sides the burnished +ocean, hot and breathless. And the warm, moist heat, close around, +still and stifling. Like a blanket, dense, enveloping. But he said it +was the spot. I don't know. He has been there now three years. He said +he could do it there--if ever. From time to time I stop there, if the +passengers are willing for a day or two's delay. He looks very old +now, and very thin, but he always says it's all right. Soon, very soon +now, the manuscript will be ready. Next time I stop, perhaps. Once I +came upon him sobbing. Landing early in the morning, slipped ashore +and found him sobbing. Head in arms and shoulders shaking. It was +early in the morning and I think he'd sobbed all night. Somehow, I +think it was not for the gift he'd lost--but for Her. + +"But he says over and over again that it is the right spot--the very +right place in the world for such as he. Told me that I must not mind, +seeing him so lonely, so apparently depressed. That it was nothing. +Just the Tropics, and being so far away, and perhaps thinking a +little too much of things that did not concern his work. But the work +would surely come on. Moods came on him from time to time, which he +recognised were quite the right moods in which to work, in which to +produce great things. His genius was surely ripe now--he must just +concentrate. Some day, very shortly, there would be a great rush, he +should feel himself charged again with the old, fine fire. He would +produce the great work of his life. He felt it coming on--it would be +finished next time I called. + +"This is the next time. Shall we go?" asked the Captain. + +Accordingly, within a day or two, the small coastwise steamer dropped +her anchor in a shallow bay, off a desert island marked with a cross +on the Captain's chart, and unmarked upon all other charts of the same +waters. All around lay the tranquil spaces of a desolate ocean, and on +the island the thatched roof of a solitary hut showed among the palms. +The Captain went ashore by himself, and presently, after a little +lapse of time, he returned. + +"It is finished," he announced briefly, "the great work is finished. I +think it must have been completed several weeks ago. He must have +died several weeks ago. Possibly soon after my last call." + +He held out a sheet of paper on which was written one word, +"Beloved." + + + + +CHOLERA + + + + +IX + +CHOLERA + + +There is cholera in the land, and there is fear of cholera in the +land. Both are bad, though they are different. Those who get cholera +have no fear of it. They are simple people and uneducated, fishermen +and farmers, and little tradesmen, and workers of many kinds. Those +who have fear of cholera have more intelligence, and know what it +means. They have education, and their lives are bigger lives--more +imposing, as it were, and they would safeguard them. Those who are +afraid are the foreigners and the officials, yes, even the Emperor +himself. Is he afraid, the Emperor? One can but guess. He has spent +many weeks of this hot summer, when cholera was ravaging his country, +in his summer palace at Nikko. There he was safe. And cholera spread +itself throughout the land, in the seaports, in the capital, across +the rice-fields to the inland villages, taking its toll here and +there, of little petty lives. But dangerous to the Emperor, these +lives, afflicted or cut short, whichever happens. So he is staying +safe at Nikko, in seclusion, waiting for the cool of Autumn to come +and purge his land. + +Once he was to come back to Tokyo, to his capital. For September waned +and he was due there, the Son of Heaven, due in his capital. Many of +his subjects came to the station at Nikko on the day appointed for his +departure, stepping with short steps in their high clogs, tinkling on +the roadside in their clogs, scratching in their sandals. They came in +crowds to the station, at the hour when he was due to enter the royal +train. But when the time came for his departure, he did not go. He +would tarry awhile longer at Nikko. So the crowds were disappointed +and did not understand. Rumour had it that cholera had developed in +the royal household itself--the Purveyor to the Palace, so it was +stated, had contracted the disease. A fish dealer, bringing fish to +the palace, had brought cholera with him. So the Emperor tarries at +Nikko, and the highroad, behind the Imperial Palace in Tokyo is +closed to the public, lest any poor coolie, strolling by, should +become ill and bring this dread thing near to the precincts of the Son +of Heaven. + +The foreigners are very careful as to what they eat. They avoid the +fruits, the ripe, rich Autumn figs, and the purple grapes, and the +hard, round, woody pears, and the sweet butter and many other things. +Oh, these days the rich foreigners are very careful of themselves, and +meal times are not as pleasant as they used to be. They discuss their +food, and wonder about it. And because there is cholera, rife in the +ports, and among the fishermen and sailors, the authorities have +closed the fish market of Tokyo. The great Nihom-Bashi market, down by +the bridge, the vile, evil smelling fish market, lying along the +sluggish canal, is closed. The canal is full of straw thatched boats. +It all smells very nasty in that quarter, it smells like cholera. No +wonder there is cholera, with that smell. No wonder the great market +is closed. So the baskets of bamboo are empty, turned upside down, for +there is no fish in them. The people, bare-legged, nearly naked, stand +idly about the empty fish market, and talk together of this fear +which is abroad, which has ruined their trade. What is this fear? They +cannot understand. They do not know it. Only the Emperor cannot eat +fish now, for some reason, and their business is ruined because of his +caprice. + +It is very hot. All summer has this great heat continued, and it makes +one nervous. Day after day it lasts, unbroken, always the same, +unavoidable. There is no escape from the stifling dampness of it--one +cannot breathe. Over all the land it is like this, this heavy, sultry +heat. It is no cooler when it rains, no dryer when the hot sun shines. +It is enveloping, engulfing. In the big hotel, the leather shoes of +the foreigners become mouldy overnight, and the sweat runs in streams +from the brown bodies of the rickshaw boys. The rickshaw boys of the +big hotel wear clothes, long legged, tight cotton trousers, and +flapping white coats. This is to save the feelings of the foreigners +and the missionaries, who believe that clothing should always be worn, +even in hot weather. So as the rickshaw boy runs along, one can see +his white coat grow damp between the shoulder blades, then wet all +across the back, till it is all wet and sticks to him tight. Yet it is +more modest to wear clothes, when doing the work of a horse. One does +not object to a man doing the work of a horse, provided he dress like +a man. But the coolies toiling at the log carts, and the little +tradesmen in their shops, wear few clothes, because they are +independent of the foreigners. Therefore they seem to suffer less with +the heat, or to suffer less obviously. Ah, but the heat is intense, +overwhelming! Day after day, one cannot breathe. And in it, cholera +goes on. + +They say a typhoon is coming. Word has come from Formosa that a +typhoon is rushing up from the southern seas, from Hong Kong, the +Equator, wherever it is they come from. It will reach us to-night. +That will be better. The heat will go then, blown from the land by the +gigantic blast of the typhoon, zig-zagging up the coast from Formosa. +Well, it is late September--this unnatural heat,--why will it not +leave? Why must it linger till torn like a blanket from the sweating +earth, by this hurricane from the Southern seas? + +Only it did not come--the typhoon. They said it would, but it failed. +Has it gone shooting off into the Pacific, futile? So the damp, +stifling heat lingers, and the toll of cholera rolls slowly upward day +by day. + +It is a long way from Nikko to Tokyo by motor. A hundred miles, when +one can cross the bridge, but the bridge is washed away now, so a +detour of many more miles is necessary, to ferry the motor across the +Tonegawa on a flat bottomed, frail boat. The motor sinks nearly to the +hubs in the blazing, glaring sands of the dry river bed, and many +naked coolies are needed to push and pull it through the hot sands, +and work it into the boat. In the glaring sun of noon, the broad river +lies motionless, like a sheet of glowing steel. Children bathe in the +river, and the sweating coolies dip their brown bodies in it, and the +sun beats down pitiless. A junk gets loose from its moorings, and +drifts down stream, stern first, on the slow current. Who cares? No +one. It will beach itself presently, on a mud flat, and can be +recovered towards evening. The great heat lies over all the land, and +cholera is in the slowly flowing water, and the fishermen and the +coolies and the children live and work and play by the river bank, and +they have no fear of it, because they are ignorant. + +From Nikko to the capital, the road runs through village after +village, endlessly, mile after mile. On each side of the village +street are straw thatched houses, and along the roads coolies bend +under great loads, carried on poles across their shoulders. Black +bulls drag giant loads on two wheeled carts, their masters straining +beside them. The bulls' mouths are open, their tongues hang out, and +saliva drools out in streams. It leaves a wet, irregular wake, in the +dust of the roadside, behind the carts. By and by, the men will stop +for food and drink. They cannot choose what it shall be. They cannot +afford to choose. But the food of the Emperor is carefully selected. +Physicians examine those who handle it, who bring it to the Palace, to +see that they are in good health. They examine the food, disinfect it, +see to its cooking. News of this is in the papers each day, not to +show that the Emperor is afraid, but to set an example to his +subjects. + +In the houses along the roadside, little tradesmen are at work, all +naked in the heat. Or else they are bathing. For all along the high +road from Nikko to the capital, following its every bend and turning, +runs a ditch or channel filled with water. Sometimes the water is +clean and rushing, sometimes foul and stagnant and evil smelling. And +all the way along the high road people are bathing in this ditch or +channel, in the foul or running water, as it happens. They stand +naked, knee deep, men and children, while the women wash and bathe +also, but more modestly. Also, besides their bodies, they wash much +else in this long ditch,--clothes, pots, what-not. Very dirty seems +this channel, sewer, bath tub, as you please. And cholera is abroad in +the land. + +At the entrance to the temples sits the image of Binzuru. Long ago, +when history was new and the gods were young, Binzuru, one of the +sixteen great disciples, broke his vow of chastity by remarking on the +beauty of a woman. So he was put outside the temples. His image no +longer rests upon the altars, with those of the calm, serene ones. +He's disgraced, expelled, no longer fit to sit upon the altars, with +the cold, serene ones, in their colossal calm. He's so human now, +outside the temples. Sitting on a chair for human beings to touch him, +now he's off the altar, he's in contact with humanity. The devout ones +rub his wooden image--there is no bronze or gold in poor Binzuru's +makeup. So the people rub his wooden image, rub his ears, his head, +his forehead, rub his arms, his legs, his shoulders. How they suffer, +human beings! How their bodies ache and suffer, judged by poor +Binzuru's body! For if you rub Binzuru on the part which hurts you in +your body, and then rub your body with a hand fresh from Binzuru, you +will be cured. Your pain will go. That's true. Binzuru is polished +smooth and shining, quite deformed with rubbing--his poor head's a +nubbin! And in gratitude for what he's done for people, he sits now on +a pile of cushions, one for each new cure. Bibs and caps adorn him +too, votive offerings from the faithful whom he's cured. + +But he is no good for cholera, poor Binzuru. You can't reach him quick +enough to rub his stomach, then your own. Cholera's too quick for +that. You can't reach him soon enough. He can't help in this. + +Down the road a stretcher comes, swinging from a bamboo pole, carried +on the shoulders of two men. Over it a mat is thrown, and through the +little open triangle at one end, you see a pair of brown legs lying. +Only legs, no more. Drawn up stiffly, toes clinched. + +Here in the hospital they lie in rows, very quiet. Not an outcry, not +a murmur. Everything is swimming in carbolic. The nurses wear masks +across their mouths and noses. They come and go in clogs, barefooted, +and splash through the carbolic on the floors. This is cholera. These +people, lying so quietly upon their hard pillows, have cholera. It is +not spectacular. All are poor folk, fishermen, sailors, farmers, +shopkeepers, all the ignorant, the stupid, who were not afraid. One is +dying. Nose pinched, gasping, bathed in sweat. The hot air can't warm +him. He is dying, cold. + +So there is cholera in the land, and fear of cholera. Those who were +not afraid have cholera. With them it is a matter of a few days only, +one way or the other. But those who have fear of cholera have +something which lasts much longer, weeks and weeks. Till the heat +breaks. Till the typhoon comes. + + + + +COSMIC JUSTICE + + + + +X + +COSMIC JUSTICE + + +Young Withers bought out his uncle's firm of Withers, Ltd., importers. +He had been associated with his uncle for some years, as a minor +partner, and how he could manage to take over the prosperous Withers, +Ltd. without capital, is one of the mysteries of finance that do not +concern us. Suffice it that he did, everything included, the big +godowns on the quais, shipping rights, the goodwill, stock and +fixtures, and the old compradore, Li Yuan Chang. Most particular was +old Mr. Withers that Li Yuan Chang should be included. "You will never +find a better compradore," he had explained over and over, "in fact, +the business will go to pieces without him." Presumably old Mr. +Withers knew what he was talking about, for Li had been his +interpreter, his accountant, his man of affairs for years. So of +course young Withers made no objection, and considered that he was +very fortunate in having Li stay with him, after the turnover. For old +Li was rich enough to retire by this time, no doubt, as compradores +always find means to put away something year by year over and above +their salaries. But he was scrupulously honest--old Mr. Withers had +full and complete trust in him, and explained to his nephew that he +could leave Tientsin from time to time, for as long a time as he +liked, in fact, and could be sure meanwhile that old Li would look out +for his interests. + +"Just be careful of him," he explained. "He's really invaluable. But +be a little careful of him--considerate, I mean--he's not very +strong----" + +"Chandoo?" asked young Withers suspiciously, by which he meant, was Li +addicted to smoking that cheapest form of opium, the refuse and +scrapings, which was the only grade that all but the richest could +afford. + +"Oh never," replied old Mr. Withers, "never. In all the years I've had +him. Never touches a pipe. Temperate and austere in all things, to a +degree. But he is getting old now and needs humouring--likes to feel +his importance, does not care to be overlooked in the way young men +may be inclined to overlook him,--his work, I mean. Besides, he's not +very strong, rather delicate in fact, so you must be easy with him. +But you'll never get a better compradore, and he's good for many years +yet--or until you learn the ropes." + +After which old Mr. Withers concerned himself very earnestly in the +preparations for his departure, for he was leaving China for a better +land,--England, I mean. + +Young Withers set about learning the business under the direction of +old Li. Which greatly complimented old Li, who liked being deferred to +by a European. And young Withers being very easy-going, and having +fallen into a business which required no up-building, being already in +its stride, most successful, he left a good many of the details to his +compradore, and bragged about him a good deal, saying that indeed he +had inherited from his uncle a most wonderful and competent man of +affairs. Therefore he was greatly astonished one day, about two years +after his accession, when Li asked for a vacation--a long one. + +"Want go America," explained the Chinese succinctly. Young Withers was +dumbfounded. + +"But you can't go America!" he explained, "no can go. What become of +business here in Tientsin if you go America? No can do." + +Li had had his own way about many things during a great number of +years, and opposition, no matter from what motives, meant nothing to +him. He settled his big horn spectacles more firmly on his nose, and +flecked invisible dust from his rich black brocade coat. + +"Want go America," he repeated without emphasis. + +"Whatever for?" asked young Withers, to whom a desire to go to America +was incomprehensible. He himself had never felt a desire to go to +America, and that his old compradore should be so obsessed was past +his understanding. Besides, he could imagine somewhat what would +befall the old gentleman, who after many years was only able to speak +pidgin-English, who never wore European clothes, and who had managed +to retain his magnificent queu in spite of all the troubles following +the Boxer business. Old Withers had managed to preserve Li's queu for +him. Took him into his compound and sheltered him, and finally got a +permit from the Legation to allow him to wear it. Li was enormously +proud of this queu, which was long and thick and glossy, and its +length enhanced by a black silk cord, neatly plaited in towards the +end--altogether, it came nearly down to his heels, the envy and +admiration of many a Chinese gentleman who had been abruptly shorn +before help arrived. Young Withers visualised his dignified compradore +the figure of fun to irreverent American crowds. He sincerely wished +to preserve him from what he felt must be an unpleasant experience. He +was even more anxious to protect his old friend from what would +probably be in store for him, than through any selfish desire to +retain his services. + +"Come back again four month," observed Li. "Not long time. Want to +go." Young Withers sighed. It was impossible to explain to the old +man. There were pitfalls and pitfalls, he well knew. Yet he had never +been to America himself, so could not speak from experience. Only the +evening before he had been dining in company with a wise woman of +sorts, a French lady who had lived in a cave in Tibet for some years, +pursuing reluctant hermits into their mountain fastnesses in order to +obtain elucidation on certain Buddhist books. She had told him frankly +that she was bound back again for her cave, or for the wilds of +Mongolia, but never, under any circumstances, could she trust herself +to the risks of American civilization. Young Withers tried to explain +something of this to the old man, who was very patient and did not +interrupt him, but the seed was falling on barren ground. If he could +just understand English better, thought Withers, I might be able to +make him see. So Withers' oratory was lost, to a large degree, and +when he came to a pause Li repeated, without emphasis, + +"Want go America." + +"But you're too old!" exclaimed the young man, exasperated by such +obstinacy. "Too--you're too--you're not strong enough. You're +too--delicate----" + +"Want go America. Four month. Come back then," said Li, and Withers +gave it up. Two weeks later Li was standing on the deck of a small +Japanese liner bound from Tientsin to Kobe, from which port he would +transship to a larger Japanese liner bound for San Francisco. He took +with him many bundles of odd sizes, wrapped in coarse blue cotton, +seemingly of no value. He waved a dignified farewell from the rail, +and young Withers, on the dock, watched the departure of his old +compradore with infinite misgivings. + +Four months, including the passage both ways, proved much too long a +time in which to see America. Li returned unexpectedly one day, within +half that time, a silent and broken man. His blue bundles, whatever +their mystery, were gone, his rich brocade coat was gone, and gone +also was his confidence and trust in human kind. Only his thick, +glossy, long queu remained to him,--that, and a singular taciturnity. +Whatever his experiences, no word would he speak concerning them--he +preserved a rigid silence. Something had been broken in the old man, +there beyond the seas, and whatever had befallen him was abhorrent and +unspeakable. He seemed very much older, very much more frail, and his +thin, fine hands were always trembling in a manner unaccustomed. Young +Withers was in distress, for Li's distress was so obvious, his +singular reticence making him suffer still more. + +"Those thugs in San Francisco must have cleaned out the old fellow +first day on shore," he concluded, and then thought no more about it. +It was pitiful to see the old man, however, pitiful to watch him going +about his duties with the recollection of his terrible days in the New +World undermining his spirits and vitality. The secret, whatever it +was that had befallen him, was sapping his frail strength. Only on one +occasion, several months later, did he bring up the subject. He +appeared suddenly before Withers' desk one day, and there was an angry +gleam in his spectacled eyes. + +"Your uncle never let me go America. Twenty years with your uncle. +Very good man. Never can go." He turned away abruptly. + +"By Jove," thought young Withers to himself, "the old chap's holding +me responsible. Blaming it all on me. I like that!" and he laughed a +little, uneasily. These Chinese were queer ones. You never knew how +they stood. + +The firm of Withers, Ltd. was very busy. Every week or so ships came +into the harbour with boxes and bales of European merchandise of a +rather shoddy kind, intended for the markets of North China. And there +was much business in transferring these boxes and bales to the big +godowns, with their heavy iron doors and windows, in checking them up, +sorting them out--in short, all the sort of activity that goes with a +firm of importers, such as this one. Also there was much business in +distributing these boxes and bales, or rather the contents thereof, to +the railway station, for shipment to Peking and to remote provinces in +the north and west. In Peking, these shoddy goods were made into +smaller bales, and laden on camels, for some far off, remote +destination in the interior. This took Withers frequently to Peking, +leaving old Li in charge of the godowns in Tientsin. Withers always +took charge of this end of the business, because of the opportunity it +offered to get away from daily contact with his old compradore. +Somehow, he felt rather uneasy in the old man's presence. There was a +change in his manner, most marked. Again and again that remark +occurred to him, and again and again, in the compradore's presence, +Withers was conscious of a feeling of undefinable hostility. He holds +me responsible, he thought, absurd, but that's what it is. Because I +did not prevent him from going to America. Therefore Withers was very +glad to go to Peking from time to time, for he liked the excitement of +the barbaric capital, and besides, he thought it would be good for Li +to be quite on his own in charge of the godowns, and might distract +his thoughts from that obsession which was preying upon him. + +One day, after an absence of two weeks, young Withers returned to his +Tientsin office, which wore a somewhat deserted air. The shroff was +clicking on his abacus, and left off snicking the beads up and down to +remark casually that the compradore had gone. The shroff was a young +Chinese who spoke excellent, mission-school English, and wore good +European clothes, and he shared Withers' astonishment that such a +thing had happened. + +"Wanted to go home, he said. Had had enough business. Gone home ten +days ago, with his family. Said say good-bye to you." + +Withers' first feeling was of relief. That's that, he thought to +himself, and just as well. He stood eyeing the young Chinese +accountant, and the shroff looked him back fairly in the eye, and the +same thought passed through both minds. A younger man would do just as +well as compradore, and here was the younger man at hand, waiting. +"Let's go down to the godowns," said Withers, and the two walked out +of the office together, in the direction of the quais. The shroff +should learn things from the beginning, and taking charge of the bales +and boxes in the warehouses, counting them, distributing their +contents, was part of the business. + +On unlocking the great, heavy doors, the godowns presented a singular +aspect. Never, in all the years that young Withers had been associated +as junior partner in Withers, Ltd., and never in the few years since +he had become Withers, Ltd. himself, had the godowns presented such an +aspect. They were empty. Quite, stark, utterly empty. Not a bale, not +a box, not a yard of calico was to be found anywhere about. The +sunshine slanted in through the open door, and not a moat of dust +danced in the rays, for nothing had been disturbed for some time, and +the dust was settled. They went top-side, into the lofts. The same +thoroughness presented itself. Everything had been cleared out, +absolutely. + +"Stolen!" exclaimed Withers. + +"Clean-sweep!" said the shroff, in his mission-school English. + +"Ruined!" added Withers to himself. + +Together they hurried back to the office and examined things. It was +evident in a moment how it had been done. Withers had signed an order +for the removal of five boxes. The compradore had deftly added a +cipher and raised it to fifty. And so on. Done repeatedly, with +neatness and precision, over Withers' own signature. No wonder the +streets about the godowns had presented an air of activity at times. + +"We must find him," said Withers, "catch him quickly, before he has +time to dispose of the money." + +The old compradore had made no effort to hide his whereabouts. There +were a dozen people to whom he had said farewell, telling them that he +had now given up work and was retiring with his family to his home in +the Western Hills. Over Jehol way. Three weeks by cart. Aye, his cart +had come down from Peking to fetch him, a two days' journey. He was +not taking the train. He had started early one morning in his big, +blue-hooded cart, drawn by a gorgeous yellow mule, its harness inlaid +with jade stones. Not number-one jade, of course, but still jade, and +of value. Ten days ago he had gone. + +Withers and the shroff caught the first train out for Peking, and +arriving in two hours, made hasty preparations for their journey. They +obtained a cart and a mule, bedding rolls and tinned food, and by +afternoon had set out through the West Gate of the Tartar City, over +the dusty plains towards the Western Hills. Over Jehol way, towards a +village beyond Jehol, up in the hills, where Li Yuan Chang had his +dwelling. + +Travelling is slow in a Peking cart, and uncomfortable. The heavy, +springless vehicle lumbered along, bouncing over the deep, dried ruts, +at times sinking hub deep into the dry holes. There were times when +the road was below the level of the adjacent fields, so deep below +that even the hood of the cart was below them, worn as they were by +centuries of travel. At these times, the dust swept through the +narrow channel, blinding. Once or twice they ran into a dust storm +whirling down from the north, from the great Gobi Desert, beyond. Then +they drew down the curtains of the cart, suffocating inside, tossed +from side to side, up and down, by the hard jolting of the vehicle. By +night they rested at wayside inns, sometimes finding the compounds +filled with camels, great shaggy brutes that lay about at all angles, +over the courtyard, and snorted and nipped at the intruders. They +slept at night in their cart, wrapping up well in their bedding rolls, +shivering at times in the keen October wind. Their coolies shared the +k'ang within, with the camel drivers and other travellers, but Withers +and the shroff preferred the cart, for there were worse if smaller +animals than camels to be found in native hostelries. Toilsome, weary +days succeeded one another, broken by restless nights, yet ever they +pushed westward, slowly, laboriously. + +The coolies brought them news of the wayside, gathering it each night +from the inns. A great mandarin had passed that way some days ago--a +great man surely, to judge by the length of the axles of his cart, +which stuck out a good foot beyond the hubs, marking him as a man of +importance. And a great yellow mule, with harness set with jade +stones, and the brasses polished,--oh, a very rich man, evidently! So +each night they heard accounts of the rich man who had gone ahead, +with his retinue, his family and servants and packmules. It was well +noised abroad, evidently, through the countryside. Travellers coming +from beyond Jehol had met him with his train, and the inns at which +they stopped always had news of his progress, outward bound. In a +hurry, too. And very fearful of the roadside dangers. Always in the +compounds before dusk, fearful of highwaymen. + +To Withers, the suspense of the slow journey was well nigh unbearable. +He, too, was in a hurry, worn with fatigue and anxiety. At first, he +had been merely anxious to overtake the old man, to obtain +restitution. But with the wayside gossip prevailing, other fears +entered his mind. One day at noon time, they entered a village +apparently deserted. The heavy gates of the compounds were closed, not +a person visible in the long, straggling street. Every one had +withdrawn himself into his house, behind locked and bolted doors. At +the inn, they pounded repeatedly on the gates, asking admission. +Slowly, after a very long time, the gates were opened an inch, and it +could be seen that there was the pressure of many men on the inside, +ready to slam and bar them in an instant. Then, seeing they were but +travellers, they were hastily admitted into the courtyard, and the +gates closed and barred again. Bandits. A band of them was scouring +the country, thirty or more, down from Mongolia. Abject terror was on +every face. The whole village was under its spell. + +"We must push on," said Withers, "we must hasten." The shroff was very +fearful, but as he was to be compradore now, to do the work of a +European, he could not show fear. But the mafu and the coolies were +too frightened to continue the journey, so they were left behind, and +Withers and the shroff went off by themselves. It was very foolhardy, +he told himself, it was sheer madness. But he was ruined anyhow, so it +did not much matter. Only, he must somehow reach the village three +days' journey beyond Jehol--if only he could arrive in time. + +Very laborious was the travelling, and they walked in the wake of +fear. They now passed through many deserted villages, one after +another, locked and barred, that the murderous band from Mongolia had +ridden through. Only, they had gone ahead, the bandits--perhaps they +would not he riding back that way again. Perhaps they would be going +on, into the north again, after they had finished---- + +Finished? Yes, it was a very rich man they were after,--they had asked +for him all along the road. They were trailing him to his home, +following with great ease the description of the great mandarin, with +the great yellow mule with jade-set harness, who had gone by with his +retinue just before. + +So Withers and the shroff continued their desolate journey, day by +day, across the plains, over such roads as are not, save in North +China. Passing through villages shut and empty, through fields in +which there were no workers, following in the train of terror that had +been spread over the land by the bandits from the north. And the +terror reached into Withers' heart, making it cold. They do not want +_us_, he said to himself, over and over. We are quite safe. But the +old man---- The little shroff, however, who was also filled with +terror, did not think they were safe at all. Only he must appear as +brave as a European, so he could only tremble inwardly. Besides all +that, the big mule was very difficult to manage, and they had to drag +the cart from the deep ruts many times a day, and each evening when +they were most tired, they had to calm the suspicions of those within, +and make long explanations before the inn gates, before they could be +admitted into the compounds. + +They arrived at their destination at dusk one evening, after three +weeks' weary travel. Trembling fingers pointed out the house--trembling, +but in a manner, reassured. At the end of the long street they would +find the house, a very fine house indeed--formerly a mandarin's palace, +they explained, but purchased a few months ago by a rich man who had +come there with his family to live. The tired men and tired mule pushed +on through the long street, gazed upon curiously by clustering Chinese, +huddled in doorways. They came to a high wall topped with broken glass, +a high, strong wall, surrounding a large compound. Beyond, at the +entrance, stood two stone lions, such as mark the homes of the rich and +great. But the great stone guardian lions were guarding a broken door. +The high, red lacquered door was split into many pieces, the hinges +holding, but the doors themselves split, so that a man's body could +crawl through. + +Withers led the way, the shroff following. Within, the compound was +deserted. They made their way to the doors of the main house, which +had been smashed in. The rooms inside were empty, stripped, their +treasures gone, cleaned out. Very much in appearance like the godowns +in Tientsin. They made their way through the silent compound into the +women's compound in the rear. It was the same--ransacked, despoiled. +But there were many compounds and many houses, so together they passed +through moon gates, over elaborate terraces, beside peony mountains, +and summer houses, across delicate rock bridges with marble +balustrades. Silent, deserted, bearing the evidence of thorough +looting. + +Then, quite at the rear, a woman appeared, the number-one wife of Li +Yuan Chang. She peered round the edges of a moon gate, hiding her body +behind it. She recognised Withers and the shroff and came forward. She +was very apologetic, very embarrassed, for she was wearing coolie +clothes. Her own, she explained, had been taken from her by the +bandits. Timidly she approached them, but the timidity was +embarrassment. She was very embarrassed to be found in coolie clothes, +felt resentment at the humiliation, and apologised repeatedly for her +appearance. She could think of nothing else. Then she led the way +still further to the rear, to a compound quite behind all the other +compounds and other houses of the gorgeous mandarin's palace. The last +stand of the defenders. They were scattered about the courtyard in all +attitudes, in grotesque and uncouth positions, all dead. She pointed +to a figure lying face downward, a thin, elderly figure, in +blood-soaked black brocade, with a magnificent queu lying at right +angles to the dead body. + +Once more she apologised for appearing before the gentlemen in coolie +clothes. She felt the disgrace keenly. + +"My husband," she explained contemptuously, pointing to the old +compradore, "was unable to protect us. He was always such a delicate +old thing." + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + + +--------------------------------------------------------------+ + | Typographical errors corrected in text: | + | | + | Page 19: felt replaced with left | + | Page 97: comtemptible replaced with contemptible | + | Page 128: apparparently replaced with apparently | + | Page 155: muts replaced with must | + | Page 199: aleady replaced with already | + | | + +--------------------------------------------------------------+ + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CIVILIZATION*** + + +******* This file should be named 19916.txt or 19916.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/9/1/19916 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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