MR. SOO MAKES A DISCOVERY.
Mr. de Costa, senior, sat in his study until late that night. His
son had gone to a musical comedy to the relief of his mind and the
repair of a crushed spirit, and Mr. de Costa was alone in the house
save one man-servant--a half-caste factotum, who was neither butler
nor errand-boy nor valet, and yet performed the functions of each.
At nine o’clock a man came to the house and was admitted through the
servants’ entrance. He was shown at once to the study.
De Costa looked over his glasses at the visitor and pointed to a
chair.
“Sit down, Soo,” he said, and the Chinaman, with a jerk and wriggle
intended to display his respect for superiority, and his reluctance to
seat himself in the presence of greatness, obeyed.
He was above medium height, and pallid even for a Chinaman. His high
cheekbones and thin, straight lips, gave him sinister appearance, yet
he was by no means bad-looking, for the nose was straight and well
proportioned to the face. He wore no _queue_, and his black hair was
brushed back in the style affected by the youth of England. His eyes
were larger than the average, set about in a void face--void of
emotion, of the expression and capacity for feeling.
Whatever humility convention may have dictated on his arrival, he had
no false views on the question of his equality for the man who sat at
the desk, for he leant over, lifted the lid of a silver box, and
extracted a cigarette.
“Well,” asked Mr. de Costa, blotting a letter he had written, “what is
the news?”
The man he called Soo shook his head as he applied a light to the
cigarette.
“I come to you for news,” he said. “In my humble circle we talk of
nothing more interesting than the surprising results which follow a
game of Fan-tan.”
“Where did you pick up your English?” asked De Costa irritably. It is
never pleasant to know that one whom in your heart you grade below
your own intellectual level is your superior in scholastic
attainments.
“I picked it up in the place where one acquires much enlightenment,”
said Soo carelessly.
He blew a ring of smoke towards the ceiling, and watched it disappear.
“You wouldn’t imagine,” said he, “that I was intended for the
ministry; yet that is the fact. There were good people who thought I
would make an ideal missionary, and by the force of my personality and
the knowledge of my own people, wean them from the traditions and the
philosophies of two thousand years to the half-hearted philosophies,
imperfectly understood and imperfectly promulgated in twenty different
ways by the intelligent people of this country.”
De Costa said nothing. He was too wily a man to be drawn into a
discussion on a subject with which he was not too well acquainted.
Soo had an irritating trick of getting him out of his depths.
“I understand you’ve got the bracelet,” said the Chinaman, and the
other acknowledged the possession.
He unlocked the drawer of his desk, and took out a steel box. From
this he extracted the bangle which Talham had handed to his son.
It was still in its paper wrapping, and Soo paused awhile before he
removed the tissue.
“It is very light for jade,” he said suspiciously.
He threw the end of his cigarette into the fireplace with a quick
movement of his hand, and stripped the ornament of its wrapper.
He looked at it carefully, twisting the bangle about in his hand.
“This is not jade,” he said.
“Not jade,” repeated the merchant, and half rose from his chair. “Are
you sure?”
“This is celluloid,” said the calm Soo, “cleverly copied and possibly
weighted to give it the appearance of jade.”
He balanced it carefully on his hand; then he examined the gold bands.
“Yes, as I thought,” he said, “the weight is in the gold.”
He inspected the inscriptions and read them carefully. Half
obliterated as they were, it was no easy task to decipher them by
artificial light. Then he put the bangle upon the table.
“Your friend has deceived you,” he said quietly. “This is not the
famous Shu Shun bracelet. It is not even an imitation. These
writings”--he tapped the bangle with his fingers--“are commonplace
copybook maxims, as you would call them in this country.”
He picked up the ornament again, and read: “An ungrateful son is a
disappointed father.” “The father of patience is wisdom, and the
source of peace is love.”
“You have been fooled, my friend!” he said.
De Costa sprang to his feet.
“Explain what you mean,” he said.
The Chinaman was lighting another cigarette.
“It is very simple.” He looked abstractedly at the ceiling, and spoke
half to himself: “The girl had the original bracelet, and has returned
this. Either she, or one of her friends, has the bangle; and it is our
business to get it. Without that”--he lowered his voice--“everything
that happened yesterday was in vain.”
“Don’t talk about yesterday,” said De Costa hurriedly. “That is a
subject which I never wish to discuss; you don’t know how I’m feeling
about it, Soo. I never wanted anybody hurt, I swear I didn’t.”
The Chinaman interrupted him with a slow smile.
“These things are not done by politeness,” he said. “You are going
into a big enterprise, and you must take a correspondingly big risk.”
“I take no risks,” said De Costa, white of face. “I know nothing
whatever about it. Two deaths! My God, they couldn’t----”
Soo nodded.
“They could indeed,” he said easily. “If anybody hangs for what
happened last night, be sure that you hang with them. You have gone
into this matter, De Costa, with your eyes open. You saw a chance of
obtaining an enormous treasure, and you took all risk. You
Westerners,” he went on, “place too high a value upon human life.”
He half rose from his chair, leant across to the desk, and picked up
the bangle again, examining it with an amused smile. Then, as he
replaced it upon the table, he said grimly: “The events of yesterday
about which you do not wish to speak, would have been wholly
unnecessary had I known in time that this bangle existed.”
“But surely,” began De Costa, “the paper you found----”
Soo shook his head. He was calmness itself. “I have no papers,” he
said simply.
De Costa stared at him.
“No papers! What do you mean?”
“I mean exactly what I say,” said the other. He marked the situation
upon the outstretched fingers of his hand. “Three men were sent to
secure an envelope from the Chinese Ambassador’s bureau, and one of
them was killed. Two made their escape with the papers concerning the
matter. I have not seen them since.”
“Gone?” said De Costa.
“Gone!” repeated the other. “There is another influence at work. I am
inclined to associate an old acquaintance of mine--Captain Talham. You
probably know him!”
De Costa nodded.
“He is interested in this matter of Mount Li. So firm was my
conviction that he was behind the treachery of my two men, that I took
the liberty of preparing a little surprise for him last night.
Unfortunately,” he said with regret, “it did not materialise. But
to-night--who knows?”
He rose abruptly, and buttoned his overcoat, turning up the collar
about his neck.
“I must go now,” he said. “There is a lot of work to be done before
to-morrow morning.”
“What work?” asked De Costa.
“I am going to recover the bracelet,” said Soo, and there was that in
his eyes which made the older man quail.
“There will be no violence?” he stammered.
“None, I assure you,” said the other airily.
“Remember,” said De Costa almost tremulously, “that it is a woman you
have to deal with.”
“I have dealt with many women,” said Soo, “and I find very little
difference between the sexes save that the gentler is a trifle more
courageous, and a little more willing to bear the consequences of
their folly.”
De Costa accompanied him into the regions of the kitchen and showed
him to the door which led to the area. Not another word was spoken
between the two men.
De Costa closed the door behind his visitor and bolted it securely. He
went back to his study and drained off a glass of neat brandy.
He went to bed that night in no happy frame of mind.
He might have been less happy, as he lay tossing from side to side in
his bed, had he seen the dark figure of a man stealing in the shadow
of the wall which formed a tiny courtyard at the back of his house.