CHAPTER XIII

So two winters passed and the boy grew. He was wandering about one of

the market-places when he caught his first glimpse of the thing which

brought the great crisis in his life and fulfilled his destiny. A crowd

had gathered in one corner, and was increasing with such rapidity that

it was impossible even to guess what they were looking at. By dint of

wriggling and pushing, he finally managed to work his way through and

see what was causing the excitement.

In a small open space, a youth of about his age and size, stripped to

the waist, was standing in the rigid posture adopted by native athletes

before they do some feat of skill. But it was not this which attracted

the crowd: it was the fact that he had grasped in his hands a naked

sword which he held within two inches of his eyes. Staring at the

glittering edge with savage intentness he muttered a stream of

unintelligible words, which fell from his lips rhythmically as in an

incantation.

In the midst of the deepest silence the people watched with awe-struck

looks, no man moving. Gradually the boy's face was assuming an ashen

hue. The intensity of his stare was such that the glittering sword

hypnotized him. Now he began to sway rhythmically; his lips gradually

ceased moving, and the heavy sword trembled and swung in his hands.

Sheer will-power held him to the ordeal. Then the appointed end came

with dramatic suddenness. With a lurch he fell stiff and rigid to the

ground. There he lay insensible, his mouth wide open as if uttering a

soundless scream.

"What is it?" whispered Wang the Ninth under his breath to his nearest

neighbour, a butcher with the leather apron of his trade still attached

to him.

The man looked down at him in a troubled way.

"_I-ho-ch'uan_, the Sword Society," he said abruptly.

A confederate of the boy, who had been standing to one side, now

approached. Quickly picking up the fallen sword, he stabbed the boy in

the muscles of the arm as he lay there. There was no blood.

"Bear witness," he exclaimed in a thick voice, waving the sword

defiantly. "All who embrace the belief need fear no guns or swords."

He swung round to show his red girdle and the amulet on his chest. Necks

were craned; no eye missed these details. These were the insignia which

soon were to cause an ancient dynasty to totter to its grave.

On the ground the neophyte lay steeped in the deepest unconsciousness.

The crowd had reached the greatest proportions. Packed suffocatingly

together, they watched every gesture and every development, chained to

the spot by a subtle hysterical impulse. A keen observer might have said

that they had long been waiting for this message. Wang the Ninth stood

like the rest consumed with curiosity, until suddenly the neophyte on

the ground slightly stirred. Now his eyes opened; he raised himself with

a start; and then suddenly sprang to his feet as if possessed. He made a

number of dramatic athletic gestures, as his leader touched him on the

arm.

"I am born anew," he exclaimed loudly. "My body has received a spirit. I

go to the Temple to receive my new name." Then, before most of them

could see what had happened, the men with the blood-girdles, had forced

a passage through the crowd, taking the neophyte with them to the Temple

to receive his baptism.

That night in the stables Wang the Ninth sat up very late telling his

mates what he had seen, and indulging in pantomime to demonstrate

exactly what had taken place. The rites had strangely impressed him.

"The sword is held close to the eyes like that," he said, showing them

with a stick. "Certain powers are given: otherwise how comes it that the

sword draws no blood?"

The others had nothing to say. They were like children confronted by the

unknown. They were mystified, and attracted as well. Yet all sensed

danger; in their rough way they declared it "was not a good business,"

particularly for those in foreign employ.

The next day, at the first idle moment, they all sallied out to see if

there would be any repetition of the demonstration. All in the foreign

quarter were talking of the matter; for many foreigners' servants had

witnessed what had taken place the previous day and were also dimly

disturbed. But to their relief they learnt that the matter had been

reported to the authorities, and that fearing disturbances the new

brotherhood had been warned to keep outside the city limits. They were

now practising, it was said, on the sands outside the city walls.

For some days nothing happened and the idle talk began to die down. Then

one afternoon all the stable-hands were requisitioned to ride with their

master; and Wang the Ninth went to riding a white pony.

They sallied out of the city after their wont in a compact body. That

day it was the master's whim to ride far and wide--into the country

where a whole valley is given up to the walled burial-places of princes

and other great dead. It was evening ere they turned back, the master

leading the way home on his big black horse.

Just outside one of the city gates they came on a group of men standing

in a little knot. They had a banner with them stuck in the ground. Wang

the Ninth instantly recognized what it was.

"The new Brotherhood," he called so excitedly that the master heard him

and reined in.

"Where?" he began in the vernacular, although the question was

unnecessary. For the men had caught sight of him, and were roundly and

bitterly cursing him as a foreign devil who merited death.

Without a word he rode slowly up to them. A youth with a sword in his

hand had just commenced the posturing and the incantations, but

something made him stop and watch the oncoming horseman as the others

were doing. Without a word or an indication of his proposed action, the

red-bearded master rode slowly towards the group who no longer dared to

curse. When he was a few yards away, he suddenly drove his heels into

his horse and was down on them before they knew what had happened. The

lash of his mighty hunting-crop whistled through the air and caught the

boy stripped to the waist, leaving a blood-red weal which made him

shriek. Now as they fled he pursued them, lashing until he was

exhausted. Then, slowly he rejoined his own people, who had not stirred

or uttered a word.

"It will come," he said, breathing heavily from his exertions. "It will

come; it will come everywhere--it will infect the whole city. I who have

lived here long know." Then without further ado he resumed his way home

as if nothing had happened.

This episode was more exciting to Wang the Ninth than his first

initiation had been.

"The master is a man," he said that evening gleefully again and again.

"He will not be afraid. And I who serve him am not afraid either."

Still fear came into the city gates very soon after that. It slipped in

mysteriously just as the first practisers of the strange rites had come.

A vague and curious blanket of apprehension settled visibly on every

one, and made men afraid to look their fellows in the face. For once in

their lives their garrulous tongues were stilled, and they sat waiting

in silence. It was one of the most curious phenomena which has ever

been seen--quite inexplicable save on the ground that certain processes

of the human mind, which are common to us all, are sometimes induced in

such powerful waves that none are capable of resisting them. The

development of the drama was taking place as it were behind the scenes,

yet understood by everybody. A million people in the capital waited

obediently like hostages to learn their fate.

One morning it was reported that carts full of swords had passed in

through the city gates with inscriptions boldly displayed on banners in

blood-red characters. The city guards had not dared to interfere, the

scattered crowd following the carts full of awe as though they were

tumbrils bearing condemned men to the gallows. It was generally seen and

noted how this curious convoy made its way to a big Temple, disappearing

inside and giving no clue as to what was to follow.

The sight of those great stacks of swords redoubled all fears. But who

was to do anything? There was the emperor and all his ministers inside

the great Palace to govern the land; for the common people there was

nothing to do but to tremble and submit.

Yet even these developments were distant and irrelevant compared with

what Wang the Ninth saw going on around him. He was filled with surprise

and suspicion. For his fellow-servants no longer wore anything

foreign--they had carefully removed everything that might indicate that

they were in foreign service. With his quick eyes he noticed not only

what they did openly, but what they wished to conceal. Being wise beyond

his years he said nothing but watched everybody and everything in the

compound with the eyes of a hawk.

Just as this critical moment, a development took place which shook even

his great self-confidence. Being sent on an errand far beyond the

foreign quarter, he deliberately dressed himself up in his foreign boots

and gaiters, and put on his head an old felt hat which was the common

property of the stable. He was not a quarter of a mile away from his

master's house when without notice his hat was struck off his head and

he was hustled out of the way. Then a cry arose which was repeated from

mouth to mouth in a parrot-like way, and which so strangely affected him

that his wits deserted him. He was called a _san-mao-tzu_, a third

category foreigner--_i.e._, one who eats foreign rice. He felt he was

surrounded by something worse than anger--something too big to be swept

aside by retorts. When he made his way home, his spirit of bravado had

utterly disappeared.

He asked at once to be admitted to the master's presence, saying that he

had an important story to tell. The old steward consented without

discussion--a thing he would never have done if the world had not been

so upside down. The boy went in breathless and standing there told the

master exactly what had taken place so that the warning should be

understood.

His red-bearded master leaned back in his chair and watched him

reflectively. The boy was surprised to see that his master's bright red

hair was shot with grey.

"And were you afraid?" he asked slowly and deliberately.

The boy hesitated and then shook his head.

"It was not fear that I felt," he said in his frank, rough vernacular.

"Yet it is troubling, to come so suddenly and for no reason. The others

had removed everything that might give cause for offence. Even watches,

it is said, are considered dangerous. But I had not believed it. It is a

new thing--and some say that it will be necessary for all of us to go--"

His master sat immersed in thought. Then he asked:

"And you, will you follow the example of the others?"

Wang the Ninth felt that his reputation was at stake. Still there was no

doubt or hesitation in his reply:

"How can I forget that Your Honour's house gave me employment and food

when I was in want? Whither should I flee even if there were the great

danger since I am without parents?"

The master looked at him with approval.

"Show caution," he remarked. "It is wise to show caution now--"

Outside the house Wang the Ninth found all the servants already gathered

together discussing what had happened.

"_San-mao-tzu_--third-class barbarians," they repeated sullenly. "This

is a nice business for us who only earn a bare living."

They were plainly frightened. Those who had wives and children in

distant parts of the city spoke of the necessity of going. If this

suspense continued, the majority would certainly flee. Only the men from

the South would not move. For they were strangers, too, that is

quasi-foreigners, who feared the mob because of their different speech.

Presently, in a day or two, some foreign soldiers arrived. But there

were not many. It was said that thousands might soon come. That night,

however, a secret exodus began from all native households scattered

throughout the foreign quarter. In carts and on foot the people hastened

silently away, abandoning their homes because of their location. The

foreigner was becoming accursed--it was not good to continue living near

him. The sombre depression grew as before a great disaster. A sudden

noise would make every one cease work to see what had happened.

Discipline was so relaxed that Wang the Ninth was permitted to go and

come as he chose, even the head-groom never chiding him. So the thing

developed, slowly yet rather fast, the elements of evil gathering from

afar under cover of the dark.

Wang the Ninth: The Story of a Chinese Boy · 第 13 / 28 章