The House of a Thousand Lanterns

I

My calm calculations were swept away. I knew I could never have married anyone but Joliffe. I was as yielding, as eager, as much in love as I had been all those years before. I was reckless. I did not wish to look beyond the immediate future. I knew that I was not going to let anyone stand in my way.

I was living in the Paradise of Fō where every perfection conceivable to the desires and needs of man had been realized. Everything around me was beautiful. If the trees did not bear glittering gems as fruit, then the leaves and the blossoms were a hundred times more beautiful. Everything had changed. The world had become a wonderful place.

I was in love and I would allow no barrier to stand in the way of my happiness.

I was going to marry Joliffe.

Then I realized that there were people who had to be hurt by all this happiness. There was good Toby for one. I shall never forget the stricken look on his face when I told him.

“So he has come back,” he said blankly.

“Yes,” I replied soberly, “and as soon as he came back I knew it was inevitable.”

Toby did not answer. He looked out of the window of his office onto the water scene, the sampans crowded together with the lines of washing stretched across them, the scurrying to and fro of the rickshaw men. He had seen thousands of them in his time but he was not seeing it then; he was seeing the dream he had conjured up of our being together; and Joliffe, returning to shatter that dream.

All he said was: “Jane, you should not hurry.”

“I know,” I answered gently. “I am not hurrying really. You know my story. Joliffe and I were together for three months and Jason is our son. It had to be, Toby.”

He nodded.

“And Jason?” he said.

“Joliffe is Jason’s father,” I said.

He turned away.

“There’ll be changes… here?” He waved his hand vaguely.

“You mean in the business? Oh no. I intend everything to go on as before… as Sylvester would wish it.”

Toby shook his head.

“Toby,” I said, “it will make no difference to you. Understand that. You were Sylvester’s manager and you will remain mine.”

But he only looked at me sadly. I felt angry suddenly that my pity for him had to intrude on my happiness.

Adam was less resigned. At first he seemed stunned; then he was angry. Angry with fate, with Joliffe and with me.

“So you are going to marry Joliffe!” he said.

“I thought I was married to him before,” I replied gently. “And now that he is free and I am free…”

“You’re crazy,” he said.

“I don’t think so, Adam.”

“I should have thought you would have had the sense to know that it won’t work.”

“My instincts tell me it will.”

“As usual you believe what you wish to believe in face of the odds.”

“Joliffe and I love each other, Adam. We always will.”

“Was that why he deceived you, gave you a child to bring into the world that had no name until you married my uncle to give it one?”

“It was not Joliffe’s fault. He did not know that his wife was still alive.”

“You are very innocent, Jane. That is why I fear for you.”

“I’m fairly experienced of the world and capable of taking care of myself.”

“It doesn’t seem so. You got yourself into a mess and found a way out, and here you are ready to do the same again.”

“I don’t agree with you.”

“No, of course, you don’t. He only has to come back with his plausible tales and you are ready to give up…”

I was sorry. I knew he was hurt. I knew that over the last months he had thought it possible that I might marry him. I had even vaguely considered it might be possible myself. I should have told him right from the start what I knew in my innermost thoughts: that there would never be anyone but Joliffe.

There was something which disturbed me even more. I was doing the very thing that Sylvester had warned me not to do. He had made it clear that he did not trust Joliffe. And surely he had indicated that he wanted me to marry Adam when he had made him Jason’s guardian. He could not have spoken more plainly than that. I could not get Sylvester out of my mind, and the memory cast a shadow over the ecstasy of my reunion with Joliffe. In my sleep I could hear his voice. “It’s like a pattern repeating itself.”

“It’s different now, Sylvester,” I was murmuring one morning when I awoke.

It was different. Joliffe was free now, and I loved Joliffe so much that I could never be happy without him.

Even Lottie seemed dismayed.

“So the year is up,” she said, “and you marry. The house not pleased.”

“What nonsense,” I retorted.

She lifted her hands in a helpless gesture; her half-moon brows shot up. Then she put a finger to her lip. “You hear. You feel.”

“I hear nothing,” I said.

“It is here. The house not pleased.”

There was fear in her eyes; she looked over her shoulder as though she really believed some deity might step out and strike us dead. “The goddess is warning,” she said. “You hear it in the wind bells. It says: ‘Not good.’”

“This is such rubbish,” I said. “At one moment the goddess lost face because a woman owned the house; she wanted me to find a husband quickly—so you said. Well now I am going to be married and she is still not pleased. What does she want?”

Lottie shook her head helplessly.

“You not understand. Great One,” she answered.

But if the goddess was displeased along with Lottie, Toby, and Adam, there was one who was delighted.

Jason placed his hands on my knees and looked up to me, his face glowing.

“I’m going to have a father,” he said.

“Yes, Jason,” I told him. “You’ll like that, won’t you?”

He laughed. Of course he would like it.

“I’ll tell you something,” he said, standing on tiptoe.

“Yes, Jason?”

“He was my real father all the time. He told me.”

So we were married and I was happy as I had never thought to be again.

Joliffe had wanted us to have a honeymoon but I had refused this.

We should have had to take Jason, I said, if we went away. He protested a little but finally agreed with me, for where would we have gone but into China? I did not think it was suitable to take Jason with us.

“What does a honeymoon matter,” said Joliffe. “It’s the marriage that’s important… being together for the rest of our lives, Jane. What a prospect.”

It was a glorious prospect. Now we could start dreaming and planning as we had years ago. We were taking up the threads of our story.

They were glorious days when sometimes he and I went out alone leaving Jason in the care of Lottie; at others we took him with us. We crossed to Hong Kong Island and picnicked on the sandy shore of Big Wave Bay. Sometimes we rode out and watched the workers in the paddy fields. We shopped in the Thieves’ Market and peeped into temples where joss sticks gleamed on altars and incense hung in spirals from the ceilings; we had our fortunes told by the pavement seer and the trained sparrow picked out a lucky card for us. We took a small craft and sailed in the bay and threw coins to the small boys who delighted to dive down into the clear water to pick them up. Everything seemed beautiful—the rocking sampans on the water, the women with their little babies in slings on their backs, the rickshaw men in their coolie hats, the stall owners squatting on the pavements to make their bargains with those who bought their goods. It seemed a beautiful place with the smell of dried fish everywhere and the painted signs hanging from their shops adorned with the exquisite Chinese letters.

It was Paris again. It was the love haze which enveloped everything, heightening the colors, making the world dance, touching even the work-worn faces of the Hakka women with beauty.

One early morning when he lay awake and talked of the wonder of being together again Joliffe mentioned Jason, and how delighted he was in the boy, how he had thought of him constantly and had railed against a fate which had separated him from his son.

“And that will of Sylvester’s,” he said. “To think that Sylvester named Adam as his guardian. I don’t like it, Jane.”

“It is only in the event of my death,” I said.

He held me tightly against him. “Don’t mention such a thing.”

“My dearest. It’s something I won’t think of. It’s not going to happen anyway. I’m going to die before you.”

“No,” I said fearfully.

We clung together until Joliffe burst out laughing.

“Who’s going to die? We’re young, aren’t we? We’re healthy. We’re going to live for years and years, both of us. In any case you’re younger than I am, Jane. So I shall die first.”

“I couldn’t bear it,” I said.

He stroked my hair. “What fools we are! Assuring ourselves that we are going to be the one to die first because we don’t want to be the one who’s left. One of us will have to be that.”

For a moment we were silent then we laughed and made love and we were happy, but before we slept Joliffe said: “It should be altered, Jane.”

“How… altered?”

“Easily. Sylvester nominated Adam as Jason’s guardian. I couldn’t tolerate my son’s having anyone but me as a guardian. But that’s what would happen if you… Jane…”

“If I were to die,” I said. “Yes if I died tomorrow, everything would be in trust for Jason and Adam would be his guardian.”

“Sylvester didn’t know that you and I would be married,” said Joliffe.

I was thoughtful. What had Sylvester thought? He knew of the sorrow I had endured when I had lost Joliffe. Had it ever occurred to him that Joliffe would come back, that we would be married. Of course it would have, yet he had appointed Adam—perhaps for that very reason.

Joliffe said: “It should be changed. It would be quite easy. You could do it. You have the power to.”

I said: “I’m not sure. These were the terms of the will.”

And I thought: Why did Sylvester appoint Adam? Because he believed that I would marry Adam? Because he had wanted me to marry Adam?

“Jane, you should do it. Jason is my son.” He kissed my ear tenderly. “I cannot endure its being written even that someone else could be his guardian.”

“I am not going to die for a long time, Joliffe.”

“My God, no! You are going to live for years. And we will go back to England. Shall we go to Roland’s Croft? I always liked the place. It’s yours now. I wonder what old Mrs. Couch is doing? Wouldn’t she be glad to see us. And wouldn’t you like to go?”

“How I should love to be there… to go to the forest where we met! Do you remember that day? The rain… how we sheltered?”

“I shall never forget it.”

“I don’t think Jason remembers much of Roland’s Croft now.”

“He’ll have to go to school. We’ll all go back then.”

“Yes,” I said, “we’ll all go back. Toby can look after things here. But first I want to discover the secret of the thousand lanterns.”

“We’ll discover it together… among other things.”

“Such as?”

“You will have to learn how much I love you and how much you love me.”

“Do you think I don’t know how much I love you now?”

“These are far more important matters than this affair of the lanterns. And, Jane, just to put things right, step along to the lawyer and make it clear. I am my son’s guardian and no one else.”

“I’ll go to see the lawyer tomorrow,” I promised.

Mr. Lampton, who had looked after Sylvester’s affairs for many years, listened intently to what I had to say. It was clear that he knew a great deal about family matters and I was sure Sylvester had discussed the advisability of making his will as he had.

“It was Mr. Sylvester Milner’s wish that your son Jason should be cared for in the event of your death. It was a matter of grave concern to him.”

“I know,” I said, “but my son has a father. No father would wish to see someone else guardian of his son.”

Mr. Lampton nodded. “It is the business which is really in question, Mrs. Milner. Mr. Sylvester Milner wished his nephew Adam to be in charge of it in the event of your death before your son was of an age to manage it himself. This nephew was the one he chose.”

“I know he considered him to be steady and serious, which he is. But my marriage changes everything. My husband is working with me now. It would surely be wrong to put what he is building up into the hands of someone else… if I were to die.”

“There is nothing, of course, to prevent your making a will in favor of your husband, but there is a possibility that in the event of your death Adam Milner might dispute that will. No court would give another man custody of a child when his father was living, but the business would provide certain complications. I repeat, though, that you could certainly make a will in favor of your husband.”

“I will do that,” I said.

When I went back to the house I told Joliffe what I had done.

“So you will make sure that Jason is not taken from me.”

“I certainly will and without delay. Adam will be annoyed, I expect.”

“Don’t tell him.”

“You think that’s fair?”

“Look here, Jane, you aren’t going to die. Things are going on as they are now for years and years. There’s no need to make bad feeling.”

“But he will go on thinking…”

“Let him. If he has any sense he’d know I’d never allow anyone to take charge of my son.”

“Somehow I feel it’s only right…”

He put his arms about me and laughed. “We don’t want any bad feeling. Relations with Adam are fairly friendly just now. Let’s keep them that way.”

“And if I were to die…?”

“You’re not going to. I won’t allow it.”

He held me tightly and temporarily I forgot my qualms. But that night I dreamed of Sylvester. In the dream he regarded me steadily for a few seconds, just as he had all those years ago at Roland’s Croft when I had told him I was going to marry Joliffe; then he shook his head sadly.

It was a few weeks later when I had the first of my dizzy turns.

I felt perfectly normal when I awoke but as I rose from my bed the room seemed to totter about me. It was only for a second, but as I sank back onto my bed I felt a wave of nausea.

I lay back on my pillows. Joliffe had left early that morning. He was going to see some ivory pieces some miles out of Kowloon.

I felt better as I lay back and I wondered whether I was pregnant. There were no other signs. I contemplated what joy it would be to have another child.

I had made the will nominating Joliffe his son’s guardian and providing that he should be in charge of everything until Jason was of age if I should die. It was absurd but it gave me an uneasy feeling to think of dying and leaving Jason and Joliffe. I supposed most people felt that when they made wills.

Joliffe was working enthusiastically in the business which had been Sylvester’s. He had said how could a husband and wife be business rivals? Toby didn’t like it very much, although he gave no obvious indication of this, but I knew him well and I detected a certain sadness in his manner.

With some men there might have been a very difficult situation but Toby was not the sort to assert himself. He ran the business; he was the best manager in the profession. Adam would have liked to get him, but he remained loyal, even now when Joliffe had come in and was taking over so much.

Lottie came and stood by my bed.

“You not well this day, Lady?”

“I felt a little unwell when I got up.”

“You stay in bed.”

“I don’t think so. I’ll get up now.”

She looked at me anxiously and brought my dressing gown to wrap round me.

I stood up. The room was steady. “I’m better now,” I said. “It was nothing.”

Yet all that day I felt listless and in the afternoon I slept.

I thought of Sylvester. He used to complain of feeling dizzy when he arose and on such days he would sleep a great deal and feel disinclined to do anything else.

It was a wretched feeling.

Poor Sylvester, I thought. I wish I could let him know that he is often in my thoughts.

A ship was in from England—always an exciting occasion. Then they would be busy at the loading docks and in due course goods would be brought into the Go-Downs. We were always interested to see what our London agents had shipped out to us.

There were passengers, too, and for so many it was a time of entertaining old friends. Joliffe had had hosts of friends and he liked to entertain them at the house. Social activities had increased since my marriage. Sometimes we would have dinner in the Chinese manner which was always of great interest to people who had just arrived, particularly if they had never before been to Hong Kong. The servants liked it too. They thought the house gained “face” when Europeans came and were entertained in the Chinese manner.

Joliffe was becoming more friendly with Adam. It was as though he wanted to make up for what he had done about the will, but I always felt uneasy in Adam’s presence because of this and would rather have told him what I had done. After all, it was reasonable. Naturally I would wish my husband not only to be the guardian of my son but of his business interests, particularly as he was now working in that business. Adam was a logical man; I was sure he would understand.

A great deal of that reserve which had irritated me at the beginning of our acquaintance returned. I was glad, however, that he and Joliffe were on better terms.

When Joliffe wanted us to give a dinner party he always included Adam and he would say: “Is there anyone you want to ask? Let’s make it a family affair.” This was typical of Joliffe’s free and easy nature, and consequently Adam was often at The House of a Thousand Lanterns.

One night a rather disturbing thing happened.

I opened one of my drawers and inside found an object I had not seen before. Puzzled, I took it out and examined it.

It was a number of old coins in each of which a square hole had been made; they were held together by a piece of iron which was shaped like a sword with a cross hilt.

I could not understand who had put it there.

As I sat turning it over and examining it, Lottie came in.

She said: “You wish to wear your blue silk dress tomorrow. I wash…”

Then she stopped short and stared at the object in my hand.

“What’s the matter, Lottie?” I asked.

She stood staring; then she hunched her shoulders and giggled, but it was the giggle I had come to associate with horror or fear.

“You have money sword,” she said. “Who gave?”

“It was in my drawer. Who put it there and what is it? What does it mean?”

She shook her head once and turned her face to the wall.

“Oh Lottie,” I said impatiently, “what is it all about?”

“Someone put,” she said.

“Undoubtedly someone has put it into my drawer. Do you know anything about it?”

She shook her head.

“It must have been one of the servants.”

“It for luck,” she said. “Should hang over bed.”

I looked at the wall. “I don’t think so,” I said. “But I’d like to know who put it there.”

Lottie picked up the money sword gingerly and looked at the coins.

“You see date on coin. If these hung over bed the Emperor who reign when coins made will watch over you. Keep evil spirits away.”

“That’s interesting,” I said.

She nodded. “These always in houses where death come. If there is murder in the house… or someone take own life… then there must be a money sword to keep evil spirit away and protect.”

“In a house where there has been murder or suicide… But…”

Lottie shook her head. “There are bad spirits when someone takes life… his own or someone else. So in such a house there is money sword. It protect.”

“There has been no murder or suicide in this family.”

Lottie was silent.

“All right,” I said. “I’ll wear the silk tomorrow. Good night Lottie.”

She lingered. “You hang over bed,” she said. “Keep good here, evil out.”

I shook my head. “It’s an interesting piece. I wonder who put it into my drawer?”

I told Joliffe about it.

“Joliffe, have you ever heard of a money sword?”

“Of course. Fascinating things. The Chinese are very superstitious about them.”

“Lottie told me something about it.”

“The old ones fetch quite a price. It depends on the date of the coins of course. They hang them up over their beds as a sort of charm. They’re used in houses where there has been violent death and particularly in case of suicide.”

“One was put in my drawer. I wonder who put it there? You didn’t, Joliffe, did you?”

“My dear, if I was going to make you a present of such a thing I wouldn’t have hidden it in a drawer.”

“But who could have put it there?”

“Did you ask Lottie?”

“She knew nothing. She was quite upset though. Apparently it’s a sort of talisman.”

“Interesting,” said Joliffe.

Then we forgot it for we could not yet overcome the sense of excitement which being together brought us. I thought of the talisman later though.

We were to give a dinner party and had decided that it should be in the Chinese manner. All day long dishes were being prepared and there was a pleasant bustle of excitement among the servants.

Joliffe was eager that the dinner should be a success, and when Adam promised to take our guests to Chan Cho Lan’s house afterwards for a dancing display, he was delighted.

“You’ll meet the Langs,” said Adam. “He’s an old friend of mine. His wife died recently and he’s remarried. It’ll be her very first visit to China. She’s said to be rather charming but a little emptyheaded. She’ll be enthralled with everything.”

Toby and his sister were invited and so there would be a certain amount of business talk. I was apprehensive to contemplate that the two men who had hoped to marry me would be there with my husband.

As I dressed for dinner in a green silk gown I looked at myself critically in the mirror and tried to see myself as Joliffe saw me. I was neither bad nor good-looking; I had a certain vitality and a good deal of poise—acquired since my marriage to Sylvester and heightened during my year of widowhood. In the last months I had softened a little; I had become vulnerable, as one always must be when one loves.

I considered this as I studied my reflection. To love was perhaps a mixed blessing. One could not have love without fear because one must always fear for the loved one. If Jason suffered from some childish ailment I suffered agonies in my imagination seeing him dead and following his coffin to the grave. All because I loved. And now Joliffe… I was terrified when he was not at my side. I visualized all sorts of dangers that could befall him in this country. To love was to suffer. I was indeed vulnerable.

And this ordinary-looking… no perhaps that was not fair to myself, perhaps I should say this tolerably attractive though not devastatingly so young woman, had had three suitors—all men of ability and some charm.

I saw the faint turn up of my lips; the flash of cynicism in my eyes. But then I was a woman of great means. I had so much more to offer than myself.

And yet I could not believe that these men were mercenary… not entirely so. Joliffe loved me; he had told me so a hundred times. And Adam and Toby? They told me too in a different way. Adam’s aloof dismay and suppressed anger showed me; Toby’s sad resignation.

It’s strange, I said to myself. I’m sure they have some regard for me but my fortune may tip the balance in my favor.

In such a mood I went down to dinner.

Adam was right about Mrs. Lang’s being a little featherbrained. She was a very pretty woman with fair fluffy hair; and she talked incessantly in disjointed sentences many of which she failed to finish.

Hong Kong was marvelous. She had heard of course… but had not guessed how truly wonderful. Darling Jumbo… that was her husband… had said she would be enchanted and, my dears, she was. All those boats! What a sight! Mind you she wouldn’t want to live on a boat… And the little babies on their mothers’ backs! It was a wonder they didn’t fall off…

She was inclined to dominate the conversation with her insouciant chatter which must have been very trying for those who were interested to talk of more serious matters.

Mrs. Lang had known Joliffe in London and was quite clearly more interested in him than in the other guests. She tried to talk to him all the time across the table.

I was trying to listen to Jumbo who was telling me about a vase he had found. It was of porcelain decorated in green and black enamel and might be of the Ch’ing Dynasty. At the same time Mrs. Lang was saying to Joliffe: “My dear, what a terrible time it was… Poor, poor woman. And all that fuss. So distressing for you…”

Joliffe said: “It’s in the past. It’s best to forget it.”

“You are so right. It’s always best to forget such unpleasant things. And now you have this marvelous wife… But my poor, poor Joliffe… So sorry I was for you. All that in the papers… and people being so unpleasant. They always are, I mean they always want to blame somebody, don’t they? And if it’s a wife… or a husband… the first thing they do is suspect the other one…”

I must have shown clearly that I was not listening to the description of the Ch’ing vase, for Jumbo said: “My dear Lilian, you talk too much.”

“Darling Jumbo, I do, don’t I? But I had to tell Joliffe how desolate I was… That terrible time… It’s past now and he’s happily married and I’m so… so happy for him.”

Joliffe was looking intently at me. I lowered my eyes. I was afraid. There was something I did not know and it was about Bella.

The man called Jumbo must have become accustomed to rectifying his wife’s blunders; he said smoothly: “I was explaining about this Ch’ing vase. I must show it to you sometime, Joliffe. I think I’m going to place it with the Comte de Grasse. He is most interested. Have you seen his collection?”

“Yes,” answered Joliffe. “Magnificent.”

“This will be a fine addition.”

I looked up and met Joliffe’s eyes. He was trying to sooth me. It was an expression I knew well. It meant: I can explain.

I had seen it before.

There was never such a long party. The guests came back to the house after the dancing display and it seemed hours before the last rickshaw had departed.

In our bedroom I waited for Joliffe. He seemed long in coming.

As soon as he came in I said: “What was that woman implying?”

“That Lang woman. What a stupid featherbrained creature she is! I wonder at Jim Lang’s marrying her. He should know better at his time of life.”

“She was saying something about… Bella.”

“Yes about Bella. What did she say?”

“She said something about your being blamed. Bella is dead, isn’t she?”

“Bella is dead,” he said.

“Joliffe, please tell me what she meant.”

He sighed. “Need we go into this? Bella is dead. That incident in my life is closed forever.”

“Are you sure it’s closed, Joliffe?”

“What do you mean? Of course I’m sure. Look Jane, it’s late. Let’s talk about it another time.”

“I have to know now, Joliffe.”

He came to me and laid his hands on my shoulders, wooing me with his charm. “I’m tired, Jane. Come, Let’s go to bed.”

I stood firm. “I should never sleep. I want to know what she meant.”

He put his arm about me and drew me to the bed. We sat down on it together.

“She was referring to Bella’s death.”

“She died of an incurable disease. It was aggravated by her accident. That’s what you told me. Wasn’t it true?”

“It was true… in a measure.”

“It must either be true or not true. How could it be true in a measure?”

“Bella died because she was the victim of an incurable disease. That’s what I told you.”

“But it was only true in a measure. What does that mean?”

“I didn’t tell you that she took her own life.”

I caught my breath.

“She… committed suicide. Oh, Joliffe, that’s terrible.”

“She had been to a specialist. She knew what was to come. She would get progressively worse and the end would be… painful. So she took her own life.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to distress you. It wasn’t necessary to tell you. She was dead. I was free. That was all that concerned you.”

I was silent for a while and then I said: “How?”

“She jumped from a window.”

“In the Kensington house?”

He nodded. I could see it clearly. The top room that looked out onto the paved garden with the solitary pear tree.

“Albert and Annie…” I began.

“They were very good… very helpful as you can imagine.”

“What did that woman mean about the blame?”

“There was an inquest. You know how pontifical these coroners can be. It came out that we were not exactly living in harmony. There was a certain amount of censure.”

“You mean you were blamed.”

“Not by anyone who understood. It was just whispering and so on.”

I shuddered.

Joliffe held me against him. “Don’t take this so hard, Jane. It’s over. It’s nearly three years old. There’s no point in raking it all up. I wish to God that woman had never come here.” Gently he undid the fasteners of my dress. “Come,” he went on. “It’s no use brooding on what’s past.”

“I wish you’d told me,” I said. “I hated finding out like that.”

“I would have told you, in time. I didn’t want to spoil things now.”

I had heard him use almost those identical words. He had married Bella and thought her dead in the accident but he had not wanted to tell me, and I had had no notion that she existed until she appeared with her devastating news, just as now I had not known until I was told through the lighthearted conversation of a frivolous guest that Bella had taken her own life.

Joliffe soothed me. He loved me so much. He wanted our happiness to be perfect. Was he going to be blamed all his life for one youthful piece of folly? He had married Bella, thought her dead and married me. We had to forget the ugly tragedies which were behind us. All was well between us now.

He could always calm me; he would always make me see a rosy future. That was his power. He could show me that as long as I had him beside me and could keep him beside me, I would be happy.

So he lulled me to a sense of security. I did not want to look beyond this night with Joliffe’s arms around me.

But later next morning when I was alone in our bedroom I opened my drawer and there was the money sword lying there.

I could hear Lottie’s voice: “A protection against evil… the evil that comes into a house where there has been suicide or violent death.”

Violent death, I thought. That could mean murder. Murder need not be violent. It could be a quiet slipping away.

I saw Sylvester’s face in my mind—the emaciated face, the skin the color of parchment, drawn tightly over prominent bones.

Then I thought of him as he had been when I first saw him in the Treasure Room. He had been different then.

Violent death. Suicide… or murder.

I picked up the money sword. To bring good luck in a house where evil had been.

A talisman.

Someone thought I needed it. Who? And against what?

There was real fear in the house now. It was there like a presence. It was stalking a victim. Who was that victim? Was someone warning me that it was myself?

II

The question of who had put the money sword in my room continued to haunt me. It had become of increasing importance. It was no use asking the servants. I had come to realize the manner in which their minds worked. They wished to please and therefore it was a matter of etiquette with them always to give the answer which the questioner most wanted to hear. Truth was not as important as good breeding. They were docile, mild, and industrious; they wished to live peaceably; if I asked any of them to do something they would agree at once because not to do so would be bad manners. If it was impossible for them to do as they had promised they would smilingly lift their hands and invent some excuse, when they had not intended to do it from the start. To refuse was unthinkable.

It took me quite a long time to grasp this and to realize the difference between our Occidental and their Oriental ways.

I knew that if I asked who put the money sword into my room I should be met by shakings of the head because whoever had put it there would sense that he—or she—had upset me by doing so.

I decided there was nothing I could do, but I could not forget the thing. Whenever I went into my room I would open the drawer to see if it was still there.

As I turned the money sword over in my hand and tried to decipher the date on the coins I was thinking of Bella, standing at that window. What must her thoughts have been? How desperate she must have been! How did people feel when they were about to end their lives?

Poor Bella! She had seemed so truculent when she faced me. Perhaps that very truculence was a mask to hide her misery.

I could see it all so clearly; the small garden with the crazy paving and the solitary pear tree; the windows of the mews cottage which faced the house and in which Albert and Annie lived.

And because of what had happened to her someone had thought I needed protection and had placed a money sword in my room.

Through the market I went with Lottie beside me. She bargained fiercely with the traders and ordered the goods which were to be sent to the house.

A mandarin’s procession was passing by. Lottie and I stood watching it. There was the exalted gentleman carried in his sedan chair by four bearers. These bearers had their attendants, for this was a very grand mandarin. In two files his attendants marched beside his chair. Two at the head of the procession carried gongs which they sounded every few seconds to warn people that a great man came this way. Behind the men with the gongs came others with chains, which they rattled as they walked. Some in the procession shouted at intervals something to the effect that a very grand man was among them. Members of the mandarin’s household followed, several carrying huge red umbrellas and others holding up boards inscribed with the mandarin’s titles.

As the procession passed, barefooted men and women stood in respectful poses, heads down, arms hanging at their sides. Any who looked up and did not show the proper respect received a cutting blow from one of the canes carried by several members of the mandarin’s household.

As we stood watching this show Lottie whispered to me: “Very great mandarin. He go to the house of Chan Cho Lan.”

I was hailed suddenly.

“Why if it isn’t Mrs. Milner.” And there was Lilian Lang smiling at me, her china blue eyes dancing with curiosity.

“Did you see the procession? Wasn’t it fun?”

I thought she should be wary for so many of the people spoke English and to hear a mandarin’s procession called “fun” might result in a loss of face for the mandarin and his customs.

I thought then that Lilian Lang was the sort of woman who could always be relied on to find the most tactless remark and produce it at the most awkward moment.

“He’s going to that mystery woman’s house,” she said in a loud voice.

Lottie was watching us with a smile on her face which could have meant anything.

I said: “Let us get into a rickshaw and have a chat.”

“Come with me,” she said. “It’s not far and we’ll have some of the ever-ready tea. It’s quite a ceremony, isn’t it? Never mind, I was always one for a cup of tea.”

I told Lottie to go back in one rickshaw and I went in another with Lilian to her house.

There she talked interminably while we drank tea together.

I said: “You go out alone?”

She opened wide baby blue eyes. “But why not? It’s quite safe, isn’t it? Nobody would hurt me.”

“I always take Lottie with me.”

“The little Chinese girl… or half Chinese, isn’t she? She’s a pretty creature. I said to Jumbo: ‘What an enchanting creature that little girl is… If I were Jane Milner I’d keep my eyes on her.’”

“Why?” I asked.

“These husbands,” she said archly.

I felt resentful, and told myself she was a stupid woman.

“And particularly Joliffe.”

“Why particularly Joliffe?”

“He’s always so popular, isn’t he? Poor Joliffe, that was a dreadful business. There was such talk. There always is, isn’t there?”

I wanted to scream at her to be silent and on the other hand I wanted to learn all I could.

I said: “I was not in England at the time.”

“That was a mercy because of what happened. They couldn’t say you were involved, could they? Do you mind talking about it?”

I wanted to slap her face. Did I mind listening to insinuations about my husband! What was she suggesting? That people had thought he had killed Bella?

“You know what they are… the law I mean. And then the press. She had a sister who gave them her life story… and there was this about Joliffe’s thinking her dead and marrying again. That was you, wasn’t it? What a romance. Well, it looked as if…” She paused.

“What?” I said.

“Your being there… you see, and having married him… or thought you had… and then she died like that… and here you are married to him… and there’s the dear little boy. It’s a good thing you’re here… far away. People will talk, won’t they? Jumbo says I should keep quiet. I’m afraid I say things when they come into my head. But I’m sure it’s going to be all right now. You’re so happy, aren’t you? So much in love. And Joliffe is so charming… quite fascinating. I always thought so… so did lots of others. Jumbo was quite jealous. Then I suppose lots of husbands have been. Joliffe is that kind of a man, isn’t he?”

I just wanted to get away. I wished I had never come with her. But I had had a feeling that if I did not she would shout her gossip throughout the market.

I wished she had not come to Hong Kong.

She saw how distasteful I found the conversation so she made a studied effort to change it.

“That mandarin… what a sight! He has a high opinion of himself. It seemed a shame to slash the poor things just because they don’t kowtow. He was going to that Chan Cho Lan. She’s supposed to be a very great lady. Her fingernails are four inches long.” She giggled. “It seems an odd way to judge breeding. It means she never uses her hands. If she did those glorious nails would break even though they are protected by jeweled nail sheaths. They say she’s a courtesan really. She and her girls whom she’s bringing up to make great marriages… well, alliances. A sort of charm school! Jumbo says that what she does is train the girls and then makes bargains with rich men—mandarins and the like and some rich Europeans—and sells them for so many taels of silver. Poor girls, they don’t have much to say in the matter. She’s a sort of marriage broker… without the marriage. She’s been a famous courtesan too… still is perhaps. Lots of men visit her. Isn’t it exciting?”

I wanted to get away from her. I was more than ever sorry I had come. I could not think much about Chan Cho Lan. My mind was full of what must have happened in the house in Kensington when Bella’s broken body had been found on the crazy paving.

About this time Toby fell ill. Joliffe took the opportunity of going into everything and was gratified by what he found.

“Sylvester was a good businessman,” he conceded. “No doubt about that. And Toby Grantham was his good and faithful henchman. Your affairs are in excellent order, my darling.”

“They’re our affairs really, Joliffe,” I said.

He shook his head ruefully. “Everything is yours. That was the stipulation.”

“It’s different with husband and wife. I hate to think we don’t share.”

He kissed me with great tenderness.

After a few days I called to see Toby.

His sister Elspeth opened the door for me and there was about her mouth that prim look of disapproval which I had noticed since my marriage.

The house shone and sparkled. No one would have believed it could have been in Hong Kong, it was so very Scottish in every way. Elspeth was the sort of woman who would not relinquish one of her customs. I was sure the house looked exactly as her home in Edinburgh had done.

There was crocheted macramé on the mantelpiece and some Staffordshire ornaments—one of a Highlander in his kilt playing the bagpipes. The cushions were of tartan which I knew was the color of their clan.

“Ee,” she said, “so you’ve come to see Tobias.”

“I hope he’s better?”

“Aye, he’s mending.”

She had a rather delightful Edinburgh accent which was more pronounced than Toby’s.

She took me to his bedroom. He was propped up in bed studying a batch of invoices.

He looked pale and tired.

“Hello, Toby,” I said. “How are you?”

“Much better, thank you.” His eyes showed his pleasure in my coming. “It was good of you to call.”

“Nonsense. I was anxious.”

“I’ll soon be back.”

“We miss you, Toby.”

“He’ll need to get his strength back before he returns,” said Elspeth shortly.

“Of course.”

“And it’s far from strong he is now. He’s been doing overmuch.”

She nodded her head, implying that he had worked too hard for those who didn’t appreciate him.

She would never forgive me for marrying Joliffe when I might have had her brother.

I sat down and we talked of business for a time until Elspeth interrupted and said it was time he rested.

So I said goodbye to him and in her sitting room she boiled a kettle on a spirit lamp and infused the tea. She brought out shortbreads, homemade from a Scottish recipe, while she talked to me about Tobias who had been overworking. She scorned me for refusing what she believed to be the best possible match any woman could have made—and all in favor of a man who had already proved himself to be unreliable. At least that was how it would appear to her prosaic mind.

“He worries,” she said, nodding towards the ceiling, indicating the room in which Toby lay. “I say to him: ‘It’s no concern of yours what others do. People make their own beds and must lie in them.’”

“That’s true enough,” I agreed.

“Tobias takes after his father. Gentle, too ready to take a step backwards. My mother used to say there wasn’t a better man in the world than the one she married and there wasn’t one more backward in coming forward either. I reckon you could say the same of Tobias. I wish he’d go back to Edinburgh.”

“We couldn’t do without him here.”

“I was thinking of what he could very well do without.”

“He wouldn’t want to go, would he?”

“I couldn’t be sure. All I know is that this life here is not for him. He’d be better in a good Scottish warehouse. He never took to the way of life here.”

“You’ve been here a long time. Miss Grantham.”

“Oh yes. I came out with Tobias and that was fifteen years ago. He was a young man of twenty then. I was ten years older. I wasn’t letting him come out to a place like this without someone to keep a home for him.”

She was fiercely militant in his defense. That was why she was angry with me for hurting him.

“Being here all this time, you learn things,” she said. “I know quite a bit about this place. It’s not always what it seems.”

“Is anything?”

“Perhaps not. But this is more different beneath the surface than most. I used to be afraid that he’d take a Chinese wife. I don’t like mixed marriages.”

“Did he ever seem likely to?”

“No. Tobias only seemed likely to marry the once. I used to worry though thinking he might take up with some Chinese girl like some of them do.” She frowned.

“But he never did.”

“He is a man who has the utmost respect for religion and marriage and all that goes with it. He’s a very good man, is my brother Tobias. That’s rare. So many of them here have their mistresses. It isn’t always known. You’ve heard of Chan Cho Lan, the fabulous marriage broker, with her school for young Chinese girls?”

“Yes, I have visited her.”

“These girls of hers… she arranges transactions for them… and not only with her fellow countrymen. Quite a number of European gentlemen keep their mistresses, you know. They say that matchmakers or brokers follow an old Chinese custom and it’s an honorable profession. Of course it is all done with tact. A man has to pay at least twenty thousand taels of silver for a girl and give her a servant, and there is a clause in the contract that when he has had enough of her he must find a husband for her. He must let her grow her nails and keep them four inches long—which is another way of saying she is not to do housework although how she could with her feet in the condition they’re in I can’t imagine. That is what happens and it is all glossed over and Chan Cho Lan is treated with great respect. People visit her and are her friends. I wonder why and what her business would be called in Edinburgh, or Glasgow.”

“Different countries have different customs. Miss Grantham.”

“Oh yes, there are excuses. What I’m saying is that my brother Tobias has never been near such establishments in all the years he has been here. He is a good and virtuous young man and one day, please God, he’ll make a good husband for some woman who has the good sense to recognize this.”

I found Elspeth Grantham as uncomfortable as Lilian Lang.

And I had the impression that they were both trying to warn me.

To warn me. First there was the money sword—now these two women.

Was I becoming fanciful? Was I looking for warnings where they did not exist?

Jason at least was happy. He had never missed a father but that did not mean he did not appreciate having one. He adored Joliffe. There could be no question of it. He spoke of him always as My Father. In fact he talked constantly of him and there was hardly a sentence in which “My Father” did not figure.

There was no doubt Joliffe had a gift with children. He never looked down on them and they never failed to look up to him. He didn’t treat them as children; he could enter into a game as an equal. He seemed to be able to cast off the years and be a boy at a moment’s notice, yet he was always the hero, the one who knew. He always made sure he had plenty of time for Jason. It was as though he must make up for the years of their separation.

They would fly their kites together, for Jason had never grown tired of his kite. Often I saw them high in the sky. No kites are quite like Chinese kites. I used to watch them from the topmost rooms of the house and all my fears would evaporate as I thought of them together.

They were often on the water. Joliffe used to take Jason out in his lorcha and they used to go out round the bays and across to Hong Kong Island. They knew many of the people who lived in the floating villages and sometimes when I saw Jason he would call a greeting to a woman with her baby on her back or some fisherman busy with his nets.

Joliffe made friends with the utmost ease. He was well known as Adam could never be. I thought Jason would be the same as his father.

Before my marriage I had been the center of Jason’s life. It was to me he always came for comfort; he did often now, but there were two of us and I could see that Joliffe represented security to him as I could never have done. There had always been in Jason’s attitude towards me a certain protectiveness. It strengthened now, but it was Joliffe who was the strong man to whom he himself would turn. I was pleased in a way. I suppose every boy needs a father and certainly Jason could not have had a more devoted one.

It was not only that Joliffe represented security; it was this ability to be a playmate which was so appealing. They played guessing games together; they shared secret jokes from which even I was shut out.

Watching them I used to ask myself why there had to be this nagging fear, this occasional awareness of impending disaster. Why did I have to think so often of poor Bella taking herself to the window and flinging herself down because life was so intolerable? Why did I have to think of Lilian Lang’s gossip and Elspeth Grantham’s covert warnings?

Joliffe and Jason used to play Chinese shuttlecock. In this, instead of batting a cork into which a circle of feathers had been stuck, the feet were used. They became quite adept at it and their favorite place for playing was just outside the walls of the house—near the pagoda.

It was while they were playing this game that they found the trap door.

They came into the house full of excitement. I was lying down.

I had felt a little unwell on rising. There had been a return of the dizzy feeling I had had before. It had passed, but always on such days I felt a certain limpness and a desire to rest for a few hours in the afternoon.

I heard Joliffe calling me, so I slipped hastily off the bed and went to meet him.

“Jane! Come and look. A most extraordinary thing. I’m sure it’s a trap door.”

I went out of the house with them; through the three gates to the pagoda.

The square slab of stone had been covered by bushes and Joliffe had to pull them aside to show me.

“Jason’s shuttlecock landed right in the middle of all the bushes,” he explained, “and when I hunted for it, I found this.”

I was excited.

Since my marriage my enthusiasm for discovering the house’s secret had been overlaid by other matters. Now it returned.

I was sure we were on the verge of discovery.

Joliffe was excited too. We must have the bushes cleared away. We must take up the paving stone. We had both made up our minds that this led down to a subterranean passage which would take us to the legendary treasure.

We were unsure what we should do. Should we try to lift the stone ourselves or get others to help? Joliffe thought it would be unwise to call in outside aid. The House of a Thousand Lanterns had been a legend so long that it would attract much attention.

“I’m sure,” I said, “that there is some other part of the house which we have to discover. It’s The House of a Thousand Lanterns and we have only found six hundred.”

Joliffe’s enthusiasm was boundless. He was certain that we were going to find a fortune. He imagined the richest treasures. “You know what it’s going to be, Jane. The original Kuan Yin. It’ll be worth a fortune.”

“We should give it to some museum, I suppose,” I said.

“The British Museum,” said Joliffe. “But what a find!”

“The Chinese might not wish it to go out of the country.”

“They would have to put up with that.”

“Well, we’ll see, but we haven’t found it yet.”

We cleared away the shrubs and sure enough there was the slab of stone, but there was no indication of how it could be lifted up.

The only thing to do, said Joliffe, after we had thoroughly examined it for a secret spring, was to take it up and see what was below.

It was difficult to perform such an operation without attracting some attention. The servants were aware of what we were doing. Adam called and joined us.

“This could well be the answer to the mystery,” he said, his eyes gleaming.

We were all visualizing a flight of steps which would lead us to vaults below the house in which the treasure had been hidden.

What a disappointment was in store for us! After a great deal of effort the men managed to move the stone slab. There was nothing but earth beneath it—the home of what looked like thousands of scurrying insects.

Joliffe and Adam lifted the slab between them and as they did so it slipped from their hands. They jumped hastily out of its way as it dropped and fell crashing against the wall of the pagoda.

There was a rumbling sound of falling masonry.

We were all too stunned by the disappointment to see immediately what damage had been done, but when we stepped inside the pagoda to my horror I saw that the crash had broken off part of the crumbling stone goddess.

The top of her head lay in fragments on the floor.

Joliffe said with wry humor: “It seems the lady has indeed lost face.”

It was inevitable that the damage to the statue should be considered an evil omen.

We—the foreign devils—had done this. The goddess would be angry with us. Carelessly we had allowed her image to be damaged.

Lottie said: “Very bad for house. Goddess not pleased.”

“She’ll know it was an accident.”

She shook her head and giggled.

When I came in later that day I found the money sword hanging on the wall over the bed.

“Who put that there?” I asked.

Lottie nodded indicating that she had done so.

“Why?”

“Better,” she said. “It protect. Is best place.”

It was clear that she thought I was in very special need of protection.

I said: “Listen, Lottie. I didn’t lift the slab. I was just looking on. Why should I be the one to need protection from the goddess’ wrath?”

“You Supreme Mistress. The House belong you.”

“So, therefore, I’m held responsible for what goes on in it?”

Lottie implied by a nod that this unfair assessment was true.

To please her I let the money sword remain where she had put it. Yet I must confess I felt a little comfort to see it there. I was becoming superstitious as people often do when they fancy they are threatened.

III

Lottie and I had been to the market and were returning in a rickshaw when passing Chan Cho Lan’s house I saw Joliffe. He had clearly come out of the house. I watched him walk the short distance to The House of a Thousand Lanterns.

I shrank into my seat. I asked myself why I should be so disturbed. I knew of course. I kept remembering scraps of conversation which I had heard at Elspeth Grantham’s house; I could see the sly smile of Lilian Lang.

“What would you call that sort of business in our country?”

Why should Joliffe visit the house of Chan Cho Lan? I asked myself. Then it was as though Lilian Lang answered: She makes arrangements… not only for Chinese but for Europeans… And Elspeth Grantham: Many of the men here keep Chinese mistresses in secret…

I laughed at the idea. How could that be? I thought of the intensity of the passion between us. There was nothing lacking in that side of our marriage. Joliffe couldn’t pretend to that extent.

Yet why would he be going to the house of Chan Cho Lan? He had arrived home when Lottie and I returned. I went up to our bedroom. I knew he was there because I could hear him whistling the Duke’s famous aria from Rigoletto.

I went straight to him.

“Hello, darling,” he said. “Been shopping?”

“Yes.”

I looked at him. One of the qualities about Joliffe was that when you were with him you could believe anything in his favor however incredible. It immediately seemed impossible that he could have gone to Chan Cho Lan’s house for anything but business reasons.

I said: “Where have you been today?”

“Oh, I went to the Go-Down and then out to see an Englishman who is interested in that rose quartz figurine. You know the one I mean.”

But I had just seen him coming from the house of Chan Cho Lan.

My apprehension was only faint because he was there giving me his frank open smile. But I knew my fears would grow when I was alone, and I had to say something.

“You’ve been to Chan Cho Lan’s house.” For a moment he looked startled and I went on: “I saw you coming out not very long ago.”

“Oh that… yes.”

“I thought you’d been to see about the rose quartz figurine?”

“I have. I called in at Chan Cho Lan’s later… on the way home in fact.”

“Do you often go there?”

“Oh, now and then.”

I looked at him challengingly. “Why?”

He came to me and put his hands on my shoulders. “The lady is a power in Hong Kong. She knows a great many people.”

“Rich mandarins who are anxious to make… alliances?”

“Exactly. Rich mandarins who are also looking for valuable pieces or perhaps wish to sell them from collections which have been in their families for centuries. This is how we find our most exciting pieces.”

“So you go there to meet these people?”

“I seize every opportunity. So does Adam.”

“Does Toby go too?”

Joliffe laughed. “Dear old Toby. Elspeth would never allow him to set foot in the place. She’d be terrified he’d be seduced.”

“And should I be terrified on your account?”

He held me to him. “Not in the least,” he said. “You know I’m completely yours.”

Of course I believed him.

Jealousy is insidious. One laughs at the idea that the loved one could be unfaithful; one tells oneself that to have imagined it is due to an intensity of love. But the doubts would come to me suddenly, and I would ask myself how much I really knew of Joliffe. This much I did know: he was extremely attractive—not only to me but to others. Lilian Lang would make sly references to this fact whenever I met her; and in Elspeth’s prim smile there was a touch of righteous pleasure because those who made their beds had to lie on them.

Joliffe’s first wife was discussed. I knew these women half believed that it was not illness which drove her to take her life but some failing in Joliffe.

Elspeth believed that once marriage vows had been exchanged they should be adhered to, no matter what happened. In her eyes Joliffe was unreliable and the fact that I had preferred him to her brother meant that I was a fool.

She had no more patience with fools than with rogues and therefore she implied that I deserved all that was coming to me.

When Lottie came to me with an invitation from Chan Cho Lan I accepted it eagerly.

This strange woman was of greater interest to me than ever. I wanted to see her at close quarters, perhaps even talk with her.

“She wish you take Jason,” said Lottie.

Jason was delighted at the prospect and we set out with Lottie.

The pigtailed servant opened the gate for us and there stood the house in its courtyard—charming in the sunlight with its three stories one protruding over another and its ornamental roof.

This was a different occasion from the last for we were the only visitors. I wondered why she had wanted to see me, and the thought occurred to me that Joliffe may have told her that I had been anxious to know why he came here.

In the hall we waited. We heard in the distance the tinkling indeterminate timbre of Chinese music and then a servant came to conduct us into Chan Cho Lan’s presence.

She was seated on a cushion and rising, gracefully swayed towards us.

She joined her closed hands and lifted them three times to her head.

“Haou? Tsing Tsing,” she said in her soft musical voice.

She looked at Jason and gave him the same greeting. He now understood that he must return it in the same way.

She said something to Lottie who told me: “Chan Cho Lan say you have very fine son.”

We sat down; she clapped her hands, the long nail shields tapping against each other.

A servant ran in and she spoke to him so quickly that I could not follow. I guessed she was asking that tea be brought to her guests.

But it was not tea that came in. It was another servant holding by the hand a small boy.

He was exquisite, that boy; his black hair was combed flat about his head; his eyes were bright and like Lottie’s were more round than almond shaped; his skin was the same magnolia petal shade. He was dressed in blue silk trousers and jacket.

Chan Cho Lan looked at him impassively.

Then she signed and he came forward and bowed low to us.

Jason and he studied each other curiously. There was a deep silence in the room. Chan Cho Lan was watching the boys intently as though comparing them.

Jason said to the boy: “How old are you?”

The boy laughed. He did not understand.

“Is Chin-ky,” said Chan Cho Lan.

I said I had heard the name before.

“Is name for great warrior,” Lottie explained. “He be great warrior one day.”

Chan Cho Lan talked rapidly to the boy who looked at Jason rather shyly.

“Chan Cho Lan say Chin-ky should show Jason his kite.”

At the mention of the kite Jason was immediately interested.

“What sort of kite have you, Chin-ky? Have you a dragon one? I have a dragon one. My father and I can fly them higher than anyone else.”

Chin-ky laughed. He was clearly fascinated by Jason who seemed so much bigger than he was himself.

Chan Cho Lan spoke to Lottie who rose.

“Chan Cho Lan say I take them to play in the courtyard.” She waved her hand and I saw the courtyard beyond the window.

I nodded and Lottie went out with the boys.

As she did so, tea was brought in.

Chan Cho Lan and I sat by the window. The boys appeared. They were carrying a kite which was almost the size of Chin-ky. Lottie sat down on a seat there and watched them.

My cup was brought to me by Chan Cho Lan’s servant. I sipped the beverage. It was hot and refreshing.

She said: “Your son… my son.”

“He is a beautiful boy, your Chin-ky,” I said.

“Two beautiful boy. They play happy.”

The dried fruits were brought to me. I helped myself to one with a two-pronged little fork.

“Play kite,” she said. “East and West. Yet…”

She did not seem to be able to go on. Yet I had the idea that she was trying to tell me something.

Jason and Chin-ky were able to communicate better than we were. Their heads were close as they released the kite. They stood legs apart watching it as it soared upwards, and as I watched them I thought how much alike they were.

Chan Cho Lan seemed to read my thoughts. She said: “They look… one like other?”

“Yes,” I said. “I was thinking that.”

“Your son… my son…” She pointed at me and then at herself. She smiled nodding her head.

“Two boys… boys better than girl child. You glad.”

“I rejoice in my son,” I said.

She understood that and nodded.

Somewhere in the house a gong sounded. It was like a knell because her next words were: “My son… your son… both have English father.”

She smiled nodding but there was a glitter in her eyes which was malevolent.

Oh God, I thought, what is she telling me?

And then far off in the house I heard the gong again.

I was not sure how long we sat there watching the children in the courtyard. Jason was shrieking wildly as the kite mounted and Chin-ky leaped about in an ecstasy of pleasure. Every now and then he would pause to look at Jason and they would both laugh as though at some shared secret.

I was so much aware of her—her delicate perfume, the graceful swaying body, the tiny tiny feet in little black slippers, the beautifully expressive hands. I felt awkward and clumsy beside her. She was exquisite; she had been trained to captivate men. Everything about her was alien. I thought of my mother who had wanted me to be big and strong and who had bought new shoes for me when she couldn’t afford them so my feet would have plenty of room for growing. It seemed a strange thought to have on such an occasion but then I was trying to shut out that suspicion which had come to me.

She was trying to tell me something and I dared not ask myself too insistently what it was. I knew that Joliffe came here. I had seen him, emerging from this house. He had only told me he had been here when I pressed him to. How often did he come here? What was his relationship with this alien yet beautiful and fascinating woman? He had been in Hong Kong at intervals since he was a boy. He knew so much more about it than I did. He visited this woman. Why? Was he telling me the truth? How could I know?

And when he was not with me and I remembered what had gone before, hideous suspicions insisted on creeping into my mind.

And this strange enigmatical woman, why had she invited me here? Why had she arranged for her son to play with mine while we watched them? Why had she wished me to see them together? Was it to show me the resemblance—yes there was an undoubted resemblance—between her son and mine?

They both had English fathers. Was she implying that they shared the same one?

At last the visit was over. Chan Cho Lan sent a servant to bring Jason in from the courtyard. He came reluctantly. Gracefully, Chan Cho Lan was indicating that we were expected to go.

Jason chattered about Chin-ky as we went back to The House of a Thousand Lanterns. He was nice but funny, he commented. His kite wasn’t quite as good as Jason’s own, but almost. “He can’t fly it as high as my father can,” he said complacently.

Lottie was watching me covertly.

“You like visit?” she asked.

I said it had been very interesting. “Why did she ask me?” I said.

“She want show her son… see yours.”

Lottie giggled and I asked myself: How much does Lottie know? Or does she merely suspect?

I brooded on that visit to Chan Cho Lan. I said to Joliffe: “Chan Cho Lan invited me to her house.”

“Ah. She likes to be on good terms with the family.”

“She has a son… a little younger than Jason. She seemed very anxious for me to see him.”

“The Chinese are proud of their sons. It would have been different had it been a daughter.”

“Then I suppose she would have trained her to make some… alliance.”

“Doubtless she would.”

“She said the boy had an English father.”

“She should know,” replied Joliffe.

He seemed imperturbable and I was ashamed of my suspicions when I was in his presence. It was only when I was alone that the doubts returned.

Soon after that visit my health began to deteriorate. The dizzy spells were more frequent, the listlessness more persistent. What’s the matter with me? I asked myself. All sorts of fears obsessed me. Suspicions kept coming into my mind. Chan Cho Lan… and her son; Bella and her untimely end. What did it all mean? I didn’t believe these suspicions and yet I couldn’t rid myself of them.

Sometimes I tried to talk to Joliffe about them, but when I was with him I thought they seemed ridiculous. How could I say to him: Are you the father of Chan Cho Lan’s son? That was the suspicion which had come to me. But how could I say such a thing? When he was there, bantering, tender, his eyes full of love for me, how could I in seriousness ask such a question?

And there was Bella. I wanted to know more of Bella. What had been the true relationship between them when she had thrown herself out of that window?

Joliffe hedged away every time I got near the subject. There was one thing I did understand about him. He wanted to live all the time in the sunshine. He lived for the moment. Some people said this was how life should be lived. He believed that everything would come right in the end; he wanted to push aside difficulties, anything that might seem unpleasant.

I was different. I liked to look unpleasant things in the face and decide what to do about them. I would always be the sort of person who looked ahead. I had done this when I married Sylvester. I had been looking then to Jason’s future. Perhaps the basis of our attraction for each other was in the difference in our natures. If I upbraided Joliffe for his rather reckless and impulsive outlook, he teased me about my careful one.

I didn’t talk to him about the change in my health. I tried to ignore it; sometimes when the awful listlessness was creeping over me I would go up to our bedroom and lie down for a while. A short sleep very often was all I needed. But it was a strange feeling and I kept thinking of Sylvester and how tired he had been on some days.

Lottie knew about it. She would creep in and draw the blinds; sometimes I would find her little face creased into lines of anxiety She would lift her shoulders; the half-moon brows would shoot up and then she would give her nervous giggle.

“Sleep,” she would say, “and then better.”

One afternoon I slept longer than usual and awoke with a start. Something had aroused me. Perhaps it was a bad dream. Then I was aware that I was not alone. Someone… some thing was in the room. I raised myself on my elbow. A movement caught my eye. Then I saw that the door was slightly open and something evil was there.

I caught my breath. I was dreaming. I must be. The thing was there at the door… and luminous eyes were watching me from a cruel face.

It was not human.

I gave a little scream for I thought it was going to rush at me. Time seemed to slow down and I felt as though my limbs were paralyzed and I could not move, such utter terror possessed me I was completely defenseless.

But, mercifully, instead of approaching me the thing disappeared. I caught a flash of red as it moved.

I sat up looking about me. My heart was beating so fast that it was like a drum in my ears. It could only have been a nightmare. But what a vivid one. I could have sworn I had awakened and seen the thing. But I was awake now. I couldn’t have been dreaming.

Was I becoming so vague that I didn’t know whether I was asleep or awake?

I got off the bed. My legs were trembling. I noticed that the door was open. Surely I had not left it open?

I went to it and looked out into the corridor. At the end of this was the figure of the goddess. I half expected her to move.

I forced myself to walk up to her.

I put out a hand and touched her. “Nothing but an image,” I whispered.

It was a dream… a dream when I was half waking. What else could it have been? I wasn’t suffering from hallucinations.

No. It was a dream, but it had shaken me thoroughly.

I put on a dress and combed my hair. While I was doing this Lottie came in.

“You sleep long,” she said.

“Yes, too long,” I answered.

She looked at me oddly.

“You feel well?”

“Yes.”

“You look like you been frightened.”

“I had an unpleasant dream, that’s all. It’s time the lanterns were lighted.”

Joliffe went away for a few days. He was going to Canton to buy jade.

“I’m worried about you,” he said. “When I come back we should go away for a while—you, I, and Jason.” He took my face in his hands. “Don’t take any notice of the old prophets of evil. They’re bound to say that the goddess is displeased because part of her face fell off. That statue has been standing there for years and bits have been falling off for as long as I remember. But they’ll make something out of it if they can.”

“Don’t be away too long,” I begged.

“You can be sure I’ll be back at the earliest possible moment.”

When he had gone I went to the Go-Down. Toby was now recovered and was busy, he told me, catching up on everything that had piled up while he had been away. I tried to be animated about some bronze goblets we had acquired, but I obviously failed for Toby looked at me anxiously and said: “You’re not well, Jane.” His voice was tender. “Is anything wrong?”

I shrugged his enquiries aside. “I don’t think it’s anything. I just feel tired, listless sometimes, and a little dizzy in the mornings.”

“You should see a doctor.”

“I don’t think it’s bad enough for that.”

“You should see him. You must.”

“Perhaps I will.”

“Is there anything else, Jane?”

I hesitated; then I told him of the figure I had thought I saw.

“You must have been dreaming.”

“Of course, but it seemed so real and I actually thought I was awake.”

“Some dreams are like that. It must have been a dream. What else?”

“I don’t know… except that Lottie is always talking about dragons and I thought I saw one.”

He smiled at me gently and I thought how kind his eyes were, how gentle and how I could explain to him what I could not to Joliffe.

With Joliffe I always wanted to be all that he desired me to. Joliffe hated sickness.

“It was a dream, Toby,” I said. “It must have been for if it wasn’t it was a hallucination. It seemed that I was awake. That’s what worried me.”

Toby smiled at me gently.

“Perhaps you had a high temperature,” he said, “and this image came into your semiconsciousness. It’s nothing, but I still think you should see a doctor.”

“Perhaps I will,” I said.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to. It sounded so foolish. To be disturbed by a bad dream. The farther I grew from it the more it seemed like a dream on waking. That was what it was.

I did not need to go to the doctor: I could cure myself. I would cease to be afraid. That was what was at the root of my trouble. Fear. I had become too concerned about the legends which abounded here. This talk of bad joss, of goddesses losing face and turning their wrath on those who had ignored their code, had had its effect on me, and all because I could not stop certain questions coming into my mind. Sylvester… what had really been wrong with him? What had Bella really felt when she had stood at the window and thrown herself down? Why had her life become intolerable?

And now Bella was dead and Joliffe was married to me and I was a rich woman. I controlled many interests; and when I died these would pass into Joliffe’s hands because he would hold them in trust for Jason. After I had made those arrangements in secret I had begun to feel ill.

These were thoughts that were chasing themselves round and round in my mind; this was why I had reduced myself to a state of nervousness as I asked myself whether it was true that I was threatened in some way.

Was the house really telling me this, or was it my ridiculous imagination at work again? And if I was threatened, who was threatening me?

“Go to a doctor,” said Toby, his kind eyes full of concern for me.

I thought how easy it would be to tell him all that I feared. He would listen gravely. Strange that I should feel it might be easier to tell him than to tell Joliffe.

With Joliffe away it was easier to think. I tried to look at my situation dispassionately.

Words Adam had once used came floating back to me: “Do you realize the extent of your affairs? Do you understand all that Sylvester has left to you?”

I knew it was a great deal. I knew I had to hold it in trust for Jason, for that was what Sylvester had intended. Adam would have been his guardian and I had had that altered so that Joliffe should be.

And since I had made that change…?

What is happening to me? I asked myself. Why should I feel ill? It is almost as though a curse has been laid on me. What have I done to deserve the wrath of Lottie’s gods?

Or was it not the wrath of the gods I had to fear but the greed of men?

How long the days seemed without Joliffe. He was so vital that when he was with me my fears receded. I felt alive as I never could without him.

Even on this day when the terrible listlessness was upon me and if I sat down for a minute I found myself going off into sleep, I missed him terribly. How dull life would be without him!

Jason was restless too.

“How long is my father going to be away?”

“Only for a day or so,” I told him.

“I wish he’d take me. He will one day. He said so.”

“Yes,” I said. “He’s going to teach you about Chinese Art so that you’ll be able to do what he does when you’re grown up.”

Jason sighed. “It takes such a long time to grow up,” he complained.

He had gone to bed and I retired early. I was very tired and I took a cup of tea before I went to bed.

I had it in my room as I did very often on the days when I was not feeling well. I think some of the servants thought I was in the first stages of pregnancy. I myself had thought the strange sensations I was feeling might be due to this, but it was not the case.

It was something else.

Some strange malady. Toby had said that Europeans were often attacked by unidentifiable ailments when they lived for any length of time in the East. Our bodies would not always adjust themselves to the change. It was as simple as that.

As simple as that! I was just feeling an Eastern malaise and building up an atmosphere of tension and suspicion because of it.

But try as I might I could not shut out of my mind the thought of Bella. If ever anyone was haunted, I was by Bella. She was constantly in my thoughts. What agonies of mind must lead to suicide. It is the finality of life. Behind it is the decision that what lies beyond the grave is more bearable than one’s lot in life. How desperate would one have to be to reach that conclusion?

I drank my tea and soon dropped into a sleep, from which I hoped there would be no dream.

But I dreamed vividly. When only half asleep I seemed to be plunged into some fantastic world.

Bella was there. She was saying: “It’s easy. You let yourself fall… fall…”

“What happened, Bella?” I asked. “Were you alone when you stood by the window?”

“Come and see… Come and see…”

I dreamed that I rose from my bed. She turned and looked at me and her face was horrible… like the face I had seen in that other dream. I knew then what it was that looked at me. It was Death. Bella was going to her death. The face changed and it was Bella as she had been in the park. She said: “I have something to tell you. You won’t like it, but you ought to know.”

“I’m coming… I’m coming,” I cried.

She held out her hand and I took it. She led me along the corridor and up the stairs. Her voice lingered in my ears: “You won’t like it… but you ought to know. Come on,” she whispered. “It’s easy.”

I felt the cold wind on my face. I felt myself gripped firmly. I was leaning out of a window.

I screamed: “Where am I?”

I was wide awake. I turned and saw Joliffe. He was holding me in his arms and Lottie was there.

This was no dream. I was in the topmost room. The window was wide open. I was vaguely aware of a crescent moon shining on the pagoda.

“My God, Jane!” cried Joliffe. “It’s all right, I’m here.”

“What happened?”

“We’ll get you back to bed quickly,” said Joliffe.

He shut the window firmly keeping one arm round me.

I saw Lottie, face pale in the moonlight. She was trembling.

Joliffe picked me up and carried me down to my room. There I sat on my bed and looked at him wonderingly.

“I’ll get you some brandy,” he said. “It’ll do you good.”

“I thought you were away,” I murmured.

Lottie stood by watching with wide eyes.

“I came back an hour ago,” said Joliffe. “I didn’t want to disturb you so I slept in the dressing room.” He was referring to the room which used to be Jason’s, for since Joliffe’s return Jason had moved to a room close by. “I was asleep, and something awakened me. It must have been when you walked out of the room. I was horrified to find your bed empty. I followed you. Thank God I did.”

I glanced at Lottie. She looked like a marionette nodding there.

“I hear too,” she said. “I come too.”

I felt desperately weary. “What time is it?” I asked.

“Nearly one o’clock,” said Joliffe. “Go to bed, Lottie. Everything will be all right now.”

Lottie bowed her head and hurried out.

Joliffe sat on the bed and put his arm about me.

“You walked in your sleep,” he said. “It’s the first time you’ve done that, isn’t it?”

“It’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

He took my hands and looked at me and I could have sworn that was real and fearful anxiety I saw there.

“I had a vivid dream,” I said.

“You were at the window.”

“I dreamed that Bella had taken me there.”

“Oh God, no!”

“Yes, I did.”

“It was a nightmare. You’ve been brooding on all that. It’s over, Jane. It’s done with. Put it behind you. You’re letting it disturb you so that… this could happen to you. It’s finished I tell you.”

I looked up at the money sword hanging over the bed.

“Drink this now,” he said, putting the brandy into my hand.

I obeyed.

“You feel better now,” he said as though willing me.

“I’m tired,” I said. “So tired.”

“You’ll sleep and in the morning you’ll feel better.”

It was true that I was exhausted. There was one thing I wanted and that was to sleep. Everything else could wait for that.

I was aware of Joliffe, bending over me, tucking in the sheets, tenderly kissing my forehead.

I did not awake until late next morning. Lottie told me that Joliffe had given instructions that I was to sleep on.

As soon as I awakened memories of the previous night came rushing back. I had walked in my sleep. It was something I had never done before. I remembered that night when I had awakened to find Sylvester in my room. I had led him back to his room and sat there watching him. “I walked in my sleep,” he had said. “It is something I never did before in the whole of my life as far as I know.”

I felt suddenly horrified. Sylvester had seen the Death figure. He had believed that it was a sign.

A cold shiver ran through my body.

What had happened to Sylvester was happening to me!

Those listless spells! He had suffered them too. They had been the beginning. And the doctor had found nothing wrong with him!

Sylvester had come to my room. He had wanted to see me so much that in his sleep his mind had been stronger than his body. He had wanted to tell me that he was going to die and that he was leaving everything to me. That was what had been uppermost in his mind. I had dreamed of Bella. That was what had been uppermost in mine. How had Bella died? That was what I had been asking myself. She had fallen from a window. Had she thrown herself down? Had she been led there?

No, no. I could not stop thinking of myself struggling in Joliffe’s arms.

Lottie had heard me. She had come up too. Was that why… I would not think it even. Of course it had been as Joliffe had said.

“Of course, of course,” I said aloud. “How could it have been otherwise?”

But how can one stop evil thoughts, fearful suspicions entering the mind?

Joliffe was solicitous. “My dearest Jane, you are not well. What is it? Tell me.”

“I just feel rather tired,” I said.

“But to walk in your sleep. You’ve never done that before have you… not as a child? Did your mother ever do it? Is it something that runs in families?”

“If I have done it I knew nothing about it.”

“I think you ought to see Dr. Phillips. You need a tonic of some sort. You’re run down. You’ve had a trying time.”

“I came through my trying times. I should be all right now.”

“But that’s how these things affect people. Their nerves stay steady while they are going through their crises and afterwards when they’ve settled into a peaceful existence the strain begins to show. You need a pick-me-up!”

I shook my head. “I’ll be all right, Joliffe.”

Jason knew I wasn’t well. He was worried too. I was deeply touched when he looked at me with anxious eyes. He feared he had neglected me. He had been so excited to have discovered a father that he had allowed his enthusiasm for one parent to submerge his care of the other. He had always looked after me, now I was ill.

He followed me around. He would come into my room in the morning and stand by my bed.

“How are you, Mama?” he would say and I wanted to hold him to me and hug him.

Joliffe understood. He always understood Jason.

“Don’t worry, old chap,” he said. “We’ll look after her.”

One afternoon he brought Dr. Phillips to the house without telling me.

I was resting on my bed as it was one of the listless days.

“Your husband tells me that you are not well, Mrs. Milner,” he said.

“I feel quite well at times; at others there’s a sort of lassitude.”

“You have no pain of any sort?”

I shook my head. “At times I feel quite… normal. And then this seems to descend on me.”

“Just tiredness?”

“And er… rather violent dreams.”

“Your husband told me that you had walked in your sleep. I think, Mrs. Milner, that you may not be adjusted to life out here.”

“I have been here for nearly two years.”

“I know. But this can manifest itself some time after the arrival. You are not apparently suffering from any malady except this lassitude and disturbed nights. The lassitude could be the result of the bad nights.”

“I sleep most of the nights.”

“Yes, but perhaps not peacefully, not deeply. And you have these nightmares. Perhaps you should contemplate a trip home.”

“In due course, yes. At the time there is so much to be done here.”

He understood.

“Still, I should think about it if I were you. In the meantime I will prescribe a tonic. I am sure that in a little while you will be yourself.”

Afterwards I said to Joliffe: “You should have told me you were getting the doctor. Really I felt something of a hypochondriac. There doesn’t seem to be anything much wrong with me.”

“Thank God for that.”

“I’m apparently not adjusted to life in the East. He suggested a trip home.”

“How would you like that, Jane?”

“I think I would like it very much but it isn’t possible just yet.”

“There’s no harm in thinking about it.”

“Would you like it, Joliffe?”

“I’d like anything that made you well… and happy.”

He was so tender that my heart was touched. He had that power. He could make me happy by a look or an inflection of his voice merely. So much did I love him.

I started to think about home: Mrs. Couch getting the house ready; I could see her purring over Jason. She would hate it with the house deserted by what she called the upstairs folk. I thought of green meadows and the buttercups with the dew on them and the fields which looked like patchwork and the leafy lanes—the first primroses and the crocuses, white, yellow, and mauve peeping out of the grass. It all seemed so normal and so far away. I was sure I should be completely well there. And a great nostalgia swept over me.

I took the doctor’s tonic and for a time it seemed to do me good. I became very excited when Joliffe found a Buddhist temple gate which he was certain was of the ninth or tenth century A.D. Toby and Adam doubted this and I couldn’t help feeling gratified when, after we had tracked down records, Joliffe was proved to be right. Sylvester had underestimated Joliffe, I told myself. He cared as passionately about the work as Sylvester had, and he would be as knowledgeable—perhaps even more so—when he reached his age.

I was feeling so well now that I laughed at my one-time fears.

Joliffe was delighted. “Old Phillips has put you right,” he said, “and it’s wonderful that you are quite well again.”

But the listlessness came back. It was depressing after I had begun to believe that the doctor’s diagnosis was correct and that I had not yet adjusted myself to life out here.

One afternoon I slept as I had before and awakened to that same horror. Dark shadows were in the room and I knew before I looked what I was going to see. A tenor possessed me. This was real. This was no dream.

I raised my eyes and the horrible numbing fear swept over me for there it was in the open doorway, the hideous evil face, the frightful luminous eyes… and it was watching me.

In a few seconds there was the flash of red and it was gone.

I stumbled off the bed and rushed to the door, open as before but there was no sign of the thing in the corridor.

My nightmare again. And I had thought I was getting better. I tried to think logically.

I had imagined it. Sylvester had mentioned it and what he had told me had become imbedded in my mind to come out in this form when I myself was not well.

I shut the door and turned the key. I was alone in my room.

I looked over my bed. The money sword hung there as Lottie had placed it.