The Beginning of the Ball
So this was the position of affairs immediately before the ball
given by the Glorious Golfers at the Bristol Hotel. Miss Wharf
possessed the fan, and two Chinamen were searching for it. Hwei
intended to secure it by murder, and Tung-yu by the milder means
of honourable purchase: but why the two, with such contradictory
intentions, should work in unison, as appeared from the
advertisement, Rupert could not understand. However, he had so
much trouble himself that he dismissed the matter from his mind.
There was little chance of his benefiting by money from the one
Chinaman, or of being murdered by the other. And he presumed
that Olivia would instruct Miss Pewsey to tell Miss Wharf about
the fan, even if she did not see her personally. And while Miss
Wharf was ill and safe in her house, Hwei could not get at her
in any way. Moreover, as Burgh in his interview with Hwei near
the Mansion House, had held his tongue, the man would not know
where the fan was.
The ball was the best of the Marport season, as the Glorious
Golfers were a body of young men with plenty of money and a
great love of amusement.
The vast apartments of the Bristol were thrown open, and decked
with flowers; an Irish Band,--The Paddies,--was engaged from
London, and many people came down from the great city to be
present. It was a perfect night when the ball was held, and the
terrace on the first floor of the hotel, or to speak more
properly the balcony, was thronged with people. It looked very
pretty, as it was filled with tropical ferns and plants and
trees, illuminated with Chinese lanterns and made comfortable
with numerous arm chairs, and plenty of small marble-topped
tables. Between the dances, people finding the rooms too warm,
came out to walk in the night air. There was no moon, but the
night was starry and warm, and a soft luminous light was
reflected on sea and land. Standing under the great fern-trees
and amidst the fairy lights, the guests could survey with
pleasure the vast waste of water stretching towards the clear
horizon, and see the long pier glittering with innumerable
lights. Needless to say, the terrace was much frequented by
amorous couples.
Within, the ball-room, gay with flowers and draperies, with a
waxed floor and many electric light in coloured globes, looked
very pretty. The band was hidden behind a lofty floral screen,
and played the latest seductive waltzes, interspersed with
inspiriting barn-dances and quaint cake-walks. The women were
lovely, and the dresses perfect, so the young men enjoyed
themselves not a little. Rupert was present, looking handsome in
his evening dress, but rather flushed and anxious. He was not
sure if Miss Wharf would come, in which case Olivia would not be
present. And, if the old maid did recover sufficiently to make
her appearance, she would perhaps refuse to allow him to dance
with the girl.
However Miss Wharf did appear though at a somewhat late hour.
She was gowned in pale blue and looked very handsome, if
somewhat stout. Olivia's dark beauty revealed itself in a
primrose-hued dress, and Miss Pewsey looked more like a witch
than ever in a black frock glittering with jet. This was the
gift of Miss Wharf, as poor Miss Pewsey would never have been
able to indulge in such extravagance. At the back and in
attendance on the Ivy Lodge party, were Clarence Burgh and Dr.
Forge. The buccaneer looked picturesque and dashing as usual and
was dressed very quietly for one of his flamboyant tastes,
though he showed to disadvantage beside the perfection of
Rupert's garb. Forge wore a suit which might have been made for
his grandfather, and which fitted his lank form ill. The doctor
looked less his cool self, than was usually the case. His
parchment face was flushed and his melancholy eyes glittered as
they roved round the brilliant room. Rupert wondered if he was
looking for Tung-yu, and glanced round the room himself to see
if the Chinaman had arrived in Chris Walker's company. But he
could not perceive him.
Putting his fortune to the test, and having come to no open
rupture with the lady, Rupert boldly walked up to Miss Wharf and
offered his hand. She gave him rather a peculiar look and
coloured a little. But to his secret satisfaction she received
him very kindly. Olivia took her husband's greeting with a quiet
smile, rather cold, as she knew well Miss Pewsey was watching
her face. As to that lady, she hovered round the group like an
ugly old fairy, about to weave the spell.
"And where is the Major?" asked Miss Pewsey in her emphatic way,
"surely he is present on this occasion."
"I am sorry to say that the Major is laid up with a bad cold,"
said Rupert. "I have just been to see him. He is not coming."
"A cold spoils his beauty," tittered Miss Pewsey, "dear me, how
very vain that man is."
"A cold has not spoilt Miss Wharf's beauty at all events," said
Ainsleigh, seeing his way to a compliment. "I never saw you look
so well," he added with a bow.
"Thanks to Lavinia's nursing," laughed the lady. "Olivia can you
keep still while that delicious music is playing. I'm sure Mr.
Burgh--"
"I think Miss Rayner is engaged to me," put in Rupert promptly.
Miss Wharf tapped him on the shoulder with the very fan, about
which there had been so much talk. "No I can't spare you," she
said amiably. "I want to chat with you. Olivia?"
The girl exchanged a look with her husband and saw that his eyes
were fastened on the fan. Resolved to give him a chance of
talking to her aunt about it, she moved away on the arm of the
buccaneer to join in the whirling throng. Forge offered his arm
to Miss Pewsey, not to dance, but to escort her on to the
terrace, and so it came about that aunt Sophia and Rupert were
left alone in a quiet corner of the room.
Miss Wharf cast a side glance at the young man and seeing how
handsome and gay he was, she heaved a sigh. Perhaps she was
thinking of his father whom she had loved dearly, but if so, the
emotion was only momentary, for she compressed her lips and drew
herself up stiffly. "Mr. Ainsleigh," she said, "you never come
to see me now. How is that?"
"I thought you did not wish to see me," said Rupert frankly.
"Oh yes I do. Your father was an old friend of mine, and for his
sake I wish to be kind to you."
Rupert saw that she was unaware that he had met Olivia secretly,
and had heard the story of the early romance. It was not wise,
he thought, to bring up the subject, so he met her on her own
ground. "You can be very kind to me if you wish," he said
casting a significant glance on Olivia who floated past with
Burgh.
Miss Wharf followed his gaze and frowned, shaking her head.
"No," she said severely, "you must give up the idea of marrying
Olivia."
"I can't do that," replied Rupert, thinking of his secret
marriage, "and I don't see why you should refuse to let me love
her."
"I can't prevent that," snapped Miss Wharf, "love her as much as
you choose, but as another man's wife," and again she looked
oddly at Rupert, who wondered what she meant.
"What an immoral remark," he said, "perhaps you will explain."
"Mr. Ainsliegh I will be frank with you," said the lady calmly,
"you have no money, and are liable to lose Royabay. I hold a
mortgage it is true and by the end of the year I can foreclose;
but that, I shall not do if you give up Olivia. If I foreclose,
you know well enough that your other creditors will come down on
you, and you will lose all. I hold the scales," added she
significantly.
"I see that well enough Miss Wharf, but many things may happen
before the end of the year."
"You mean that you will get the money to pay me and others?"
"I might even mean that," answered Rupert coolly, "and if I am a
bad match, I don't think Mr. Burgh is a better. I have at least
a position and a clean name."
"What do you know about Clarence Burgh?" she asked quickly.
"Nothing, save that he is an adventurer, Miss Wharf. He comes
from nowhere, and swaggers about Marport as if it belonged to
him. He has no recognised position and he is not a gentleman."
"Oh but he is, and I want him to marry Olivia."
"And thus you would condemn Olivia to misery. She loves me--"
"A girl's love," said Miss Wharf coolly, "she'll soon get over
that. Mr. Burgh is Lavinia's nephew, and I have promised Lavinia
that Olivia shall be his wife."
"Why in heaven's name?" asked Rupert angrily, "he has no money."
"Oh yes he has, and may have a chance of getting more. Lavinia
has been a good friend to me for years and years--all my life in
fact, Mr. Ainsleigh. I owe much to her, and I intend to repay
her. Her heart is set on this match and Olivia must marry
Clarence."
"Olivia shall not."
"Olivia shall. I set my will against yours Mr. Ainsleigh."
"You'll find my will is stronger," said Rupert coolly.
Miss Wharf gave a short laugh. "Try," she said curtly; then her
hard eyes softened and her cold manner grew warmer. "Don't let
us quarrel," she said gently. "I wish you well, and would give
you anything save Olivia--"
"Which is the only thing I want."
"How rude of you to call Olivia a 'thing,'" said the woman
lightly, "you may make up your mind that if you marry her, I
shall leave my money to Miss Pewsey."
"Do so. I don't want your money."
"Five hundred a year is not enough," sneered Miss Wharf, "but I
may have more. What do you say to five thousand--"
"Oh," interrupted Rupert coolly, "so Olivia has told you about
the fan--or perhaps Miss Pewsey."
"It was Olivia. I believe Clarence Burgh told her. This fan,"
Miss Wharf unfurled the article, "means five thousand pounds--"
"Or a cut throat," said Rupert quickly.
"Pah! how foolish you are, as though such a thing could happen
in England. Were we in China I admit that I should be afraid to
keep this fan; but as it is I am perfectly safe. See here, Mr.
Ainsleigh," she added bending towards him, "if you will give up
Olivia I will give you this fan and you can get the money to pay
off your creditors."
"No," said Rupert at once. "I need thirty thousand, not five.
And even if you were to give me the thirty thousand I need, I
would not sell Olivia for that sum."
"Look at the fan first," said Miss Wharf and gave it to him.
Rupert's nerves thrilled as he took the dainty trifle in his
hand. So much had been said about it, so much hung on it, of the
meaning of which he was ignorant, that he could not look at it
without feeling the drama it represented. Balzac's remark about
killing a Mandarin in China to obtain a fortune, occurred to his
mind. This fan dainty and fragile, might cost the life of such a
Mandarin. It all depended into whose hands it fell.
The fan was exactly as the advertisement described. On one side
the pale green sticks were enamelled and smooth; on the other
thin slivers of jade covered the wood, and were inscribed in
quaint Chinese characters in gold. The handle was of gold, and
therefrom hung a thick cord of yellow silk, with four beads and
half a bead thereon. Three beads and the half one were of jade,
but the remaining ball was of jasper. What these might mean
Rupert could not understand, but apparently they were connected
with the secret of the fan, whatever that might be. Certainly,
whatever its significance, the secret dealt with the life of
Lo-Keong, with the life of Dr. Forge, and with the life of Miss
Wharf, seeing she now possessed the article. All the time Rupert
furled and unfurled the fan, admiring its beauty, she kept her
cold eyes on him. "Think," she whispered, "five thousand pounds
may gain you a few months respite--you may be able to save the
Abbey."
Rupert shook his head. "If I lose Olivia I don't care about
keeping Royabay. It can be sold up and I'll go abroad to the
Colonies to work for my living."
"Without Olivia."
"No. With Olivia. Nothing will buy her from me."
Miss Wharf finding all her arts fail, snatched the fan from him,
and bit her lip. Her eyes flashed, and she seemed on the point
of making some remark, but refrained. "Very good, Mr. Ainsleigh,"
said she. "I'll see what I can do with Olivia. You have ruined her."
"What do you mean by that, Miss Wharf."
"You'll find out my friend," she replied clenching the fan
fiercely. "Oh, I am not so blind, or so ignorant as you think
me."
Ainsleigh turned crimson. He wondered if by any chance she had
heard of the marriage, and it was on the tip of his tongue to
put a leading question to Miss Wharf, when Chris Walker came up.
He was not alone. With him was a small Chinaman with the
impassive face of the Celestial. Tung-yu--as Rupert guessed he
was--wore a gorgeous yellow gown, with a kind of blue silk
blouse over it. His feet were encased in thick Chinese shoes
wonderfully embroidered and his pig-tail was down. Several
ladies cast avaricious looks at these gorgeous vestments, and
especially at the blouse, which was heavy with dragons woven in
gold thread. In his thin yellow hand with long finger-nails,
Tung-yu held a small ivory fan, and he stood impassively before
Miss Wharf, not even casting a look at the fan in her hand,
which he was prepared to buy at such a large price.
"This is Mr. Tung-yu," said Chris boyishly. "He wants to meet
you, Miss Wharf. He admires English ladies."
"I fear I can't speak his language, Chris."
"He can speak ours to perfection," said Walker.
Tung-yu bowed politely and spoke in admirably chosen English. "I
was at Cambridge," he said calmly, "and I know of your Western
culture. If you will permit me, madam." He took a seat beside
Miss Wharf.
Chris, seeing his friend well established looked around. "Where
is Miss Rayner?" he asked. "Oh there she is--the dance is over."
And so it was. The dancers were streaming out on to the balcony
and the room was almost empty. Burgh, with Olivia on his arm,
came towards Miss Wharf, and Chris hurried forward to ask Miss
Rayner for a dance. But quick as he was, Rupert was quicker. He
had seen his wife dance with one admirer, and was not going to
let her dance with another. "Miss Rayner is engaged to me," he
said, and offered his arm with a defiant look at Burgh, to whom
he had not been introduced.
Burgh showed no disposition to let Olivia go, and scowled. But
his eye fell on the Chinaman seated by Miss Wharf, and he
suddenly moved away. It seemed to Rupert that the buccaneer was
afraid. Chris remained to protest, but Ainsleigh ended the
matter by abruptly taking Olivia out of the room. Miss Wharf
frowned when she saw them depart and opened her mouth, as though
to call Olivia back. But on second thoughts she contented
herself with another frown and then turned to speak to Tung-yu.
"I have heard of you," she said.
"From my friend, Mr. Walker," said the polite Chinaman,
"Oh yes, and from someone else, through a third party. I heard
of your advertisement----"
"What advertisement?" asked Tung-yu.
"About this fan," and Miss Wharf waved it under Tung-yu's narrow
eyes, which did not change their expression of indifference.
"I do not understand, Madam!"
The lady looked astonished. "Why. Didn't you advertise for the
fan?"
Tung-yu permitted himself to smile. "Who told you I did?" he
asked.
"Mr. Ainsleigh, who left just now, told a friend of mine, who
told me," said Miss Wharf. "I understood you wished to possess
this fan."
"No," said Tung-yu indifferently, "the advertisement was placed
in the paper, by a compatriot of mine called Hwei. He asked me
to see anyone who called about it, as he was engaged. I saw Mr.
Ainsleigh and told him what he told your friend. You must apply
to Hwei."
"And have my life taken," said Miss Wharf with a shudder.
This time the Chinaman was not able to suppress a start. "I do
not quite understand, Madam?" he reflected.
"Oh, yes, you do, Mr. Tung-yu. Hwei would murder me to get this
fan. I prefer to sell it to you for five thousand pounds."
The Chinaman's face became impassive again, though his eyes
looked surprised. "I assure you, this is quite wrong. Madam. My
friend Hwei wants the fan, because it belongs to a Mandarin who
received it as a gift from his dead wife. So dearly does this
Mandarin prize it, that he is willing to buy it at any price."
"Even five thousand pounds?"
"I believe so. This Mandarin is rich." He turned his narrow eyes
again on the lady. "Did the person who said that Hwei would go
as far as crime, tell you the Mandarin's name?"
"No. Who is the Mandarin?"
"I fear I cannot tell you madam. Hwei did not tell me. If you
like I will bring him to you."
Miss Wharf hesitated. Her avarice was aroused by the hope of
getting rid of a trifle for five thousand pounds but she did not
wish to risk herself alone with a blood-thirsty celestial. "If
you will come also," she said, hesitating.
Tung-yu reflected. "Madam, I will be plain with you," he said
gravely, "as I am here, I can act on behalf of my friend
Hwei--but to-morrow."
Miss Wharf tendered the fan. "Why not take it to-night and give
me a cheque," she said quickly.
"To-morrow," replied the Chinaman, rising and bowing politely,
"I will call on you, if you will permit me. Mr. Walker will show
me the way. I will then arrange to buy the fan at a price to
which you will not object. Meanwhile--" he bowed again and
gravely departed.
Miss Wharf, rather annoyed and surprised by this behaviour,
looked round for Miss Pewsey, to whom she was accustomed to tell
everything. The little woman appeared at that moment pushing her
way through the crowd in a state of excitement. "Oh, Sophia!"
she said, throwing herself down. "Oh, Sophia."
"What's the matter?" asked Miss Wharf coldly.
"I might ask you," said Miss Pewsey, parrying the question, "you
look so upset, my Sophia."
"It is with pleasure then," said the old maid, dryly, "I have
arranged to sell this fan to-morrow for five thousand pounds."
"Oh," Miss Pewsey clasped her hand, "What joy; you will be able
to add to your income. But, Sophia, I really can't keep it any
longer. That Major Tidman----"
"Well. What about him?"
"Mr. Ainsleigh said he had a cold and was confined to his room.
I went up to see, as I don't trust that Major a bit. He's so
wicked. I went to his room, and peeped in. Sophia," added Miss
Pewsey in a tragic manner. "He is not there--the room is empty!"