carriage windows; and, in the surprise that awaited me in the
drawing-room of the gorgeously appointed mansion, I quite forgot
that.
Who should be almost the first to greet me but Dolly and Mr. Dolly,
otherwise the Seeker, married and on their honeymoon! She was
radiant. And oh, Mate, if you could only see the change in him!
As revolutions seem to be in order, Dolly has worked a prize one on
him, I think. He was positively gentle and showed signs of the
making of a near gentleman. I was glad to see them, and more than
glad to see Dolly's unfeigned happiness. The mournful little
prince has gone on his way to lonely, isolated Sikkam to take up
his task of endless reincarnation.
Very soon I found another surprise--my friend Mr. Carson of the
Rockies. It seemed a little incongruous that the simple,
unlettered Irishman should have found his way into the brilliant,
many-countried company, where were men who made history and held
the fate of nations in their hands and built or crumbled empires,
and women to match, regally gowned, keen of wit and wisdom.
But, bless you, he was neither troubled nor out of place. He was
the essence of democracy and mixed with the guests with the same
innocent simplicity that he would have shown at his village church
social.
He greeted me cordially, asked after Jack and spoke
enthusiastically of his work.
I smiled when I saw that in the curious shuffling of cards he had
been chosen as the dinner escort of a tall and stately Russian
beauty. I watched them walk across the waxen floor and heard him
say to her, "Sure if I had time I would telegraph for me roller
skates to guide ye safely over the slickness of the boards." Her
answering laugh, sweet and friendly, was reassuring.
For a while it was a deadly solemn feast. The difficulty was to
find topics of common interest without stumbling upon forbidden
subjects. You see, Mate, times are critical; and the only way to
keep out of trouble is not to get in by being too wordy. By my
side sat a stern-visaged leader of the Revolution. Across the way,
a Manchu Prince.
Mr. Carson and the beauty were just opposite. I became absorbed in
watching her exquisite tact in guiding the awkward hands of her
partner through the silver puzzle on each side of his plate to the
right eating utensils at the proper time. I saw her pleased
interest in all his talk, whether it was crops, cider or pigtails.
And for her gentle courtesy and kindness to my old friend I blessed
her and wiped out a big score I had against her country. How glad
Russia will be!
But the Irishman was not happy. Course after course had been
served. With every rich course came a rare wine. Colorado shook a
shaggy gray head at every bottle, though he was choking with
thirst. He was a teetotaler. Whenever boy No. 1, who served the
wine, approached, he whispered, "Water." It got to be "Water,
please, _water_!" Then threateningly, "Water, blame ye! Fetch me
water." It was vain pleading. At best a Chinaman is no friend to
water; and when the word is flung at him with an Emerald accent it
fails to arrive. But ten courses without moisture bred
desperation; and all at once, down the length of that banquet
board, went a hoarsely whispered plea, in the richest imaginable
brogue,
"Hostess, _where 's_ the pump?"
It was like a sky-rocket scattering showers of sparks on a lowering
cloud. In a twinkling the heaviness of the feast was dispersed by
shouts of laughter. Everybody found something delightful to tell
that was not dangerous.
We wound up by going to a Chinese theater. When we left, after two
hours of death and devastation, the demands of the drama for gore
were still so great, assistants had to be called from out the
audience to change the scenery and dead men brought to life to go
on with the play.
When I got back Jack was, of course, asleep; but he had been busy
in my absence. I found a note on my pin-cushion saying he had sent
a wire to meet Billy's steamer on its arrival at Yokohama and that
I 'm to start alone for Japan in a day or two--as soon as it seems
safe to travel.
Next day.
Honey, there is a thrill a minute. I may not live to see the
finish, for the soldiers have mutinied and joined the mob, maddened
with lust for blood and loot. I must tell you about it while I
can; for it is not every day one has the chance of seeing a fresh
and daring young Republic sally up to an all-powerful dynasty,
centuries old with tyranny and treasure, and say, "Now, you vamoose
the Golden Throne. It matters not where you go, but hustle; and I
don't want any back talk while you are doing it."
If I was n't so excited I might be nervous. But, Mate, when you
see a cruelly oppressed people winning their freedom with almost
nothing to back them hut plain grit, you want to sing, dance, pray
and shout all at the same time, and there is no mistake about young
China having a mortgage on all the surplus nerve of the country.
Of course, the mob, awful as it is, is simply an unavoidable
attachment of war.
All day there has been terrible fighting, and I am told the streets
are blocked with headless bodies and plunder that could not be
carried off.
The way the mob and the soldier-bandits got into the city is a
story that makes any tale of the Arabian Nights fade away into dull
myth.
Some years ago a Manchu official, high in command, espied a
beautiful flower-girl on the street and forthwith attached her as
his private property. So great was her fascination, the tables
were turned and he became the slave--till he grew tired. He not
only scorned her, but he deserted her. Though a Manchu maid, the
Revolution played into her tapering fingers the opportunity for the
sweetest revenge that ever tempted an almond-eyed beauty. It had
been the proud boast of her officer master that he could resist any
attacking party and hold the City Royal for the Manchus. Alas! he
reckoned without a woman. She knew a man outside the city walls--a
leader of an organization--half soldiery, half bandits--who
thirsted for the chance to pay off countless scores against
officers and private citizens inside. After a vain effort to win
back her lover, the flower-girl communicated with the captain of
the rebel band, who had only been deterred from entering the city
by a high wall twenty feet thick. She told him to be ready to come
in on a certain night--the gates would be open. The night came.
She slipped from doorway to doorway through the guarded streets
till she reached the appointed place. Even the sentries
unconsciously lent a hand to her plan, in leaving their posts and
seeking a tea-house fire by which to warm their half-frozen bodies.
The one-time jewel of the harem, who had seldom lifted her own
teacup, tugged at the mighty gates with her small hands till the
bars were raised and in rushed the mob. She raced to her home,
decked herself in all the splendid jewels he had given her, stuck
red roses in her black hair, and stood on a high roof and jeered
her lover as he fled for his life through the narrow streets.
The city is bright with the fires started by the rabble. The
yellow roofs, the pink walls and the towering marble pagodas catch
the reflection of the flames, making a scene of barbaric splendor
that would reduce the burning of Rome to a feeble little bonfire.
The pitiful, the awful and the very funny are so intermixed, my
face is fatally twisted trying to laugh and cry at the same time.
Right across from my window, on the street curbing, a Chinaman is
getting a hair-cut. In the midst of all the turmoil, hissing
bullets and roaring mobs, he sits with folded hands and closed eyes
as calm as a Joss, while a strolling barber manipulates a pair of
foreign shears. For him blessed freedom lies not in the change of
Monarchy to Republic, but in the shearing close to the scalp the
hated badge of bondage--his pigtail.
And, Mate, the first thing the looters do when they enter a house
is to snatch down the telephones and take them out to burn; for, as
one rakish bandit explained, they were the talking-machines of the
foreign devils and, if left, might reveal the names of the looters!
High-born ladies with two-inch feet stumble by, their calcimined
faces streaked with tears and fright. Gray-haired old men shiver
with terror and try to hide in any small corner. Lost children and
deserted ones, frantic with fear, cling to any passer-by, only to
be shoved into the street and often trampled underfoot. And
through it all, the mob runs and pitilessly mows down with sword
and knife as it goes, and plunders and sacks till there is nothing
left.
As I stood watching only a part of this horror, I heard a
long-haired brother near me say, as he kept well under cover,
"Inscrutable Providence!" But (my word!) I don't think it fair to
lay it all on Providence.
So far the foreign Legations have been well guarded. But there is
no telling how long the overworked soldiers can hold out. When
they cannot, the Lord help the least one of us.
Jack's friends are working day and night, guarding their property.
I guess the Seeker found more of the plain unvarnished Truth in the
East than he bargained for. He and Dolly have disappeared from
Peking.
Nobody undresses these nights and few go to bed. Our bodyguard is
the room-boy. I asked him which side he was on, and without a
change of feature he answered, "Manchu Chinaman. Allee samee
bimeby, Missy, I make you tea." I have a suspicion that he sleeps
across our door, for his own or our protection, I am not sure
which; but sometimes, when the terrible howls of fighters reach me,
as I doze in a chair, I turn on the light and sit by my fire to
shake off a few shivers, trying to make believe I 'm home in
Kentucky, while Jack sleeps the sleep of the convalescent. Then a
soft tap comes at my door and a very gentle voice says, "Missy, I
make you tea." Shades of Pekoe! I 'll drown if this keeps up much
longer. He comes in, brews the leaves, then drops on his haunches
and looks into the fire. Not by the quiver of an eyelash does he
give any sign, no matter how close the shots and shouts.
Inscrutable and immovable, he seems a thing utterly apart from the
tremendous upheaval of his country. And yet, for all anybody
knows, he may be chief plotter of the whole movement. His unmoved
serenity is about the most soothing thing in all this Hades. I am
not really and truly afraid. Jack is with me, and just over there,
above the crimson glare of the burning city, gently but surely
float the Stars and Stripes.
Good night, beloved Mate. I will not believe we are dead till it
happens. Besides, I simply could not die till Jack and I have
saved Sada San.
By the way, I start for Japan tomorrow. The prayers of the
congregation are requested!
KIOTO HOTEL, KIOTO, March, 1912.
_Beloved Mate_:
Rejoice with me! Sing psalms and give thanks. Something has
happened. I do not know just what it is, but little thrills of
happiness are playing hop-scotch up and down my back, and my bead
is lighter than usual.
Be calm and I will tell you about it.
In the first place, I got here this morning, more dead than alive,
after days of travel that are now a mere blur of yelling crowds,
rattling trains and heaving seas. A wire from Yokohama was
waiting. Billy had beat me here by a few hours. At noon, to-day,
a big broad-shouldered youth met me, whom I made no mistake in
greeting as Mr. Milton. Billy's eyes are beautifully brown.
William's chin looks as if it was modeled for the purpose of
dealing with tea-house Uncles.
Not far from the station is a black-and-tan temple--ancient and
restful. To that we strolled and sat on the edge of the Fountain
of Purification, which faces the quiet monastery garden, while we
talked things over. That is, Billy did the questioning; I did the
talking to the mystic chanting of the priests.
I quickly related all that I knew of what had happened to Sada, and
what was about to happen. There was no reason for me to adorn the
story with any fringes for it to be effective. Billy's face was
grim. He said little; put a few more questions, then left me
saying he would join me at dinner in the hotel.
I passed an impatient, tedious afternoon. Went shopping, bought
things I can never use, wondering all the time what was going to be
the outcome. Got a reassuring cable from Jack in answer to mine,
saying all was well with him.
Mr. Milton returned promptly this evening. He ordered dinner, then
forgot to eat. He did not refer to the afternoon; and long
intimacy with science has taught me when not to ask questions.
There was only a fragment of a plan in my mind; I had no further
communication from Sada, and knew nothing more than that the
wedding was only a day off.
We decided to go to Uncle's house together. I was to get in the
house and see Sada if possible, taking, as the excuse for calling,
a print on which, in an absent-minded moment, I had squandered
thirty yen.
Billy was to stay outside, and, if I could find the faintest reason
for so doing, I was to call him in. This was his suggestion.
I found Uncle scintillating with good humor and hospitality.
Evidently his plans were going smoothly; but not once did he refer
to them. I asked for Sada. Uncle smiled sweetly and said she was
not in. Ananias died for less! He was quite capable of locking
her up in some very quiet spot. I was externally indifferent and
internally dismayed. I showed him my print. At once he was the
eager, interested artist and he went into a long history of the
picture.
Though I looked at him and knew he was talking, his words conveyed
no meaning. I was faint with despair. It was my last chance. I
could have wagered Uncle's best picture that Billy was tearing up
gravel outside. I had been in the house an hour, and had
accomplished nothing. Surely if I stayed long enough something had
to happen.
Suddenly out of my hopelessness came a blessed thought. Uncle had.
once promised to show me a priceless original of Hokusai. I asked
if I might see it then. He was so elated that without calling a
servant to do it for him he disappeared into a deep cupboard to
find his treasure.
For a moment, helpless and desperate, I was swayed with a mad
impulse to lock him up in the cupboard; but there was no lock.
It was so deadly still it hurt. Then, coming from the outside, I
heard a low whistle with an unmistakable American twist to it,
followed by a soft scraping sound. My heart missed two beats. I
did not know what was happening; nor was I sure that Sada was
within the house; but something told me that my cue was to keep
Uncle busy. I obeyed with a heavy accent. When he appeared with
his print, I began to talk. I recklessly repeated pages of
text-books, whether they fitted or not; I fired technical terms at
him till he was dizzy with mental gymnastics.
He smoothed out his precious picture. I fell upon it. I raved
over the straight-front mountains and the marceled waves in that
foolish old woodcut as I had never gushed over any piece of paper
before, and I hope I never will again. Not once did he relinquish
his hold of that faded deformity in art, and neither did I.
Surely I surprised myself with the new joys I constantly found in
the pigeon-toed ladies and slant-eyed warriors. Uncle needed
absorption, concentration and occupation. Mine was the privilege
to give him what he required.
No further sound from the garden and the silence drilled holes into
my nerves. I was so fearful that the man would see my trembling
excitement, I soon made my adieux.
Uncle seemed a little surprised and graciously mentioned that tea
was being prepared for me. I never wanted tea less and solitude
more. I said I must take the night train for Hiroshima. It was a
sudden decision; but to stay would be useless.
I said, "Sayonara," and smiled my sweetest. I had a feeling I
would never see dear Uncle Mura on earth again and doubtless our
environment will differ in the Beyond.
I went to the gate. It faced two streets. Both were empty. Not a
sign of Billy nor the jinrickshas in which we had come. I trod on
air as I tramped back to the hotel.
HIROSHIMA, Five Days Later, 1912.
_Mate dear_:
I am back in my old quarters--safe. Why should n't I be! A
detective has been my constant companion since I left Kioto,
sitting by my berth all night on the train, and following me to the
gates of the School!
I had planned to start back to Peking as soon as Sada and Billy
were clear and away. But this detective business has made me very
wary--not to say weary--and I 've had to postpone my return to Jack
to await the Emperor's pleasure and lest I bring more trouble on
Sada's head, by following too closely on her heels; for I suspect
the blessed elopers are themselves on the way to China.
When I took my walk into the country the afternoon after I got
here, I saw the detective out of the back of my head, and a merry
chase I led him--up the steepest paths I knew, down the rocky
sides, across the ferry, and into the remote village, where I let
him rest his body in the stinging cold while I made an unexpected
call. For once he earned his salary and his supper.
That night I was in the sitting-room alone. A glass door leads out
to an open porch. Conscious of a presence, I looked up to find two
penetrating eyes fixed on me. It made me creepy and cold, yet I
was amused. I sat long and late, but a quiet shadow near the door
told me I was not alone. Even when in bed I could hear soft steps
under my window.
I have just come from an interview that was deliciously
illuminating.
Sada San has disappeared; and, so goes their acute reasoning, as I
was the last person in Uncle's house, before her absence was
discovered, the logical conclusion is that I have kidnapped her.
Two hours ago the scared housemaid came to announce that "two Mr.
Soldiers with swords wanted to speak to me."
I went at once, to find my guardian angel and the Chief of Police
for this district in the waiting-room. We wasted precious minutes
making inquiries about one another's health, accentuating every
other word with a bow and a loud indrawn breath. We were tuning up
for the business in hand.
The chief began by assuring me that I was a teacher of great
learning. I had not heard it but bowed. It was poison to his
spirit to question so honorable, august, and altogether wise a
person, but I was suspected of a grave offense, and I must answer
his questions.
Where was my home?
Easy.
How did I live?
Easier.
Who was my grandfather?
Fortunately I remembered.
Was I married?
Muchly.
Where was my master?
Did not have any. My husband was in China.
Was I in Japan by his permission?
I was.
Had I been sent home for disobedience? Please explain.
No explanation. I was just here.
Did I know the penalty for kidnaping?
No, color-prints interested me more.
Had any of my people ever been in the penitentiary?
No, only the Legislature.
At this both men looked puzzled. Then the Chief made a discovery.
"Ah-h," he sighed, "American word for crazysylum!"
Would Madame positively state that she knew nothing of the girl's
whereabouts. Madame positively and truthfully so stated. I did
not know. I only knew what I thought; but, Mate, you cannot arrest
a man for thinking. After a grilling of an hour or so they left
me, looking worried and perplexed. They had never heard of Billy,
and I saw no use adding to their troubles. Nobody seems to have
noticed him at dinner with me; and now that I think of it, he had
men strange to the hotel pulling the jinrickshas.
It was dear of Billy not to implicate me. I am ignorant of what
really happened, but wherever they are I am sure Sada is in the
keeping of an honorable man.
Last night, after I closed this letter, I had a cable. It said:
"Married in heaven,
"BILLY AND SADA."
But the cables must have been crossed, for it was dated Shanghai;
or else the operator was so excited over repeating such a message
he forgot to put in the period.
March 15.
Just received a letter from Billy and Sada. It is a gladsome tale
they tell. Young Lochinvar, though pale with envy, would how to
Billy's direct method. I can see you, blessed Mate that you are,
smiling delightedly at the grand finale of the true love story I
have been writing you these months. Billy says on the night it all
happened he tramped up and down, waiting for me to call him, till
he wore "gullies in the measly little old cow-path they call a
street."
The passing moments only made him more furious. Finally he decided
to walk right into the house, unannounced, and find Sada if he had
to knock Uncle down and make kindling wood of the bamboo
doll-house. But as he came into the side garden he saw in the
second story a picture silhouetted on the white paper doors. It
was Sada and her face was buried in her hands. That settled Billy.
He would save Uncle all the worry of an argument by simply removing
the cause. There in the dusk, he whistled the old college call,
then swung himself up on a fat stone lantern, and in a few minutes
he swung down a suitcase and Sada in American clothes. They caught
a train to Kobe, which is only a short distance, and sailed out to
the same steamer he had left in Yokohama and which arrived in Kobe
that day.
Billy says, for a quick and safe wedding ceremony commend him to an
enthusiastic, newly-arrived young missionary; and for rapid
handling of red tape connected with a license, pin your faith to a
fat and jolly American consul. So that was what the blessed rascal
was doing all that afternoon he left me in Kioto to myself. Cannot
you see success in life branded on William's freckled brow right
now?
The story soon spread over the ship. Passengers and crew packed
the music-room to witness the ceremony, and joyously drank the
health of the lovers at the supper the Captain hastily ordered.
Without hindrance, but half delirious with joy, they headed for
Shanghai.
Billy found that he could transact a little business in China for
the firm at home and with Western enterprise decided to make his
honeymoon pay for itself.
And now that my task is finished I shall follow them as fast as the
next steamer can carry me.
PEKING, APRIL, 1912.
Back once again, Mate, in the City of Golden Dusts. Glorious
spring sunshine, and the whole world wrapped in a tender haze.
Everything has little rainbows around it and the very air is
studded with jewels.
Soldiers are still marching; flags are flying; drums are thumping
and it is all to the tune of Victory for the Revolutionists. But
best of all Jack is well! To me Peking is like that first morning
of Eve's in the Garden of Eden.
What crowded, happy weeks these last have been. Waiting for Jack;
amusing him when time hangs heavy--even unto reading pages of
scientific books with words so big the spine of my tongue is
threatened with fracture.
And in between times? Well, I am thanking my stars for the chance
to doubly make up for any little tenderness I may have passed by.
Put it in your daily thought book, honey, forevermore I am going to
remember that if at the time we'd use the strength in doing, that
we consume afterwards being sorry we didn't do, life would run on
an easy trolley.
Billy and Sada are with us, still with the first glow of the
enchanted garden over them. Bless their happy hearts! I am going
to give them my collection of color prints to start housekeeping
with. How I'd _love_ to see Uncle--through a telescope.
To-night we are having our last dinner here. To-morrow the four of
us turn our faces toward the most beautiful spot this side of
Heaven, home. The happy runaways to Nebraska, Jack and I to the
little roost we left behind in Kentucky.
There goes the music for dinner. It 's something about "dreamy
love." Love is n't a dream, Mate--not the kind I know; it's all of
life and beyond.
I know what they are playing!
Breathe but one breath
Rose beauty above
And all that was death
Grows life, grows love,
Grows love!
THE END