H. Bedford-Jones

“ If any opposed civilized treatment, as some did, they had to be destroyed for the good of the whole—no time here to argue. It was work as grim and terrible as it was hard.
With each night, Martinson came home exhausted, bathed, had a bite to eat, perhaps exchanged a few words with Chan Tou or Doctor Hill, and then flung himself down to sleep until dawn. Things here at the temple were going well—as though struck out by the more terrible scourge, the small-pox had ceased, few cases had come in, and the cholera here had been stayed. ”

“ None on whom the charm is written shall ever die of the scourge, and bring the children as well, that they be made immune. Go!”
A sudden burst of pleas went up from the men, and demands for forgiveness. Chan Tou swept out his arm, flung his order again, and then went. In his whole mein was the arrogance of supreme authority, the concentrated power of generations, the consciousness that his command would be and must be obeyed.
The rabble faced about and trooped away toward the outer gate, and melted. The Manchu looked after them, then stepped inside the gateway and faced Martinson. ”

“ Leaving the wards to the two old women helpers, Chan Tou and Martinson presently were installed at the inner gate, at two tables placed in the shade of the wide tiled entrance. By this time, the inner court was crammed with hill folk, the outer court was filling, and from the valley below and the hill road above straggling groups were coming in rapidly. Chan Tou lifted his voice and called out to the crowd, who were pressing forward.
“Children first! While a child waits for the charm, we will write it on no grown man or woman. Bring forward the children.” ”

“ Doctor Hill seemed about to protest, then checked herself. Chan Tou continued steadily.
“We have no cause to love your race. I except such as our friend here, whom I regard as one of the spirits sent to earth. And you, Mr. Martinson—”
“Thank you,” said Martinson, half angrily. The Manchu smiled at him.
“Today! We had our abuses, but under the imperial rule we were a people. Western thought penetrated China, culminating in the revolution. Now we are a harassed rabble oppressed by opportunists—thanks to the western nations. ”

“ He had expected welcome and greeting offered a white man in these lonely hills. He had meant to speak of silver mines, had fully intended to cloak the real object of his coming here—so far as he knew it himself—but he dismissed all of it instantly. This direct look from her eyes made any subterfuge seem a mean and lowly thing. His first impression of her was already swiftly altering. He bowed slightly.
“Mr. Martinson from Shanghai,” he said. “I don't know if you will remember a certain Yut Lee—or Lee Yut Toi, as you may have known him?” ”

“ Martinson, then, stepped ashore at Hangow to meet sullen, sidewise glances and a general air of “you had better go home again,” but this was no news, and he had seen enough of yellow China to disregard it. With him it was axiomatic that race is nothing—it is the man who counts, and given time one could overcome the worst of prejudices. ”

“ Later in the morning, Martinson looked down upon the Temple of the White Lotus, from a curve in the track above it.
[Illustration: Martinson saw the glare of the sun on the paving, the strained-looking faces—then abruptly everything vanished. He fell sideways, knocking the table with his shoulder.]
The temple occupied a deep terrace in the flank of a huge hillside. Below was a village on the valley floor, from which the temple stood raised some hundreds of feet. This village was marked afar by a huge flame-tree on one side the little river, and a great blooming white magnolia on the other. ”

“ Doctor Hill was looking badly again, he thought.
The heat had increased, and Martinson looked out to the stone fu-dogs by the gateway, seeing them quiver in the midday sun and stillness. The world slept in heat. He resolved to get another three graves dug before night and get ahead with his work, if he could.
Late that afternoon Martinson was out to the north of the temple boundary, by his improvised graveyard, when he saw a body of ragged men moving up from the slopes below. ”

“ Though he drew close to her, and she to him, they were machines, driving on while energy lasted and even beyond energy, intent only herself, upon the work. Martinson thought once or twice of his anticipations of this place, and smiled. Now the cup of Wu Ti and even Williams and Hamelet were little inconsequences in the back of his mind, and it seemed impossible that circumstance might ever push them to the front again. ”

“ Toi looked like a bandit, proved to be a mute, and did not understand Martinson's Mandarin at all.
Whether or not any other white men had come recently to Hangow, could not be discovered.
During the remainder of the day, the two men made a scant five miles into the hill. Martinson was quite aware that in this queer mission he was taking his life in his hands, once he had left Shanghai. Piracy by land and water was rife everywhere. Soldiers were bandits, every ruler of a city held it for his own hand, every governor was a tu-chun or war lord to keep his place by right of force. ”

“ So far as law was concerned, all interior China was chaos, and the only uniformity lay in the steadily augmenting hatred of foreigners. Thus, if Hamelet or Williams desired a reversion to force of arms, the Wu Shan hills made an excellent spot. Murder could be committed here with absolute impunity, as Martinson was aware.
Toward dark, the mute led him out of the rough hill road to a spring a hundred yards distant, beside a little shrine of Kwannin on the hill-flank. Here they camped for the night, and Martinson was thankful to escape the brick bed and many fleas of the usual inn. ”

“ A smile touched the lips of Chan Tou, the peculiar smile which comes to the lips of an Oriental only when his own peculiar brand of humor is uppermost. “One can hardly ask you to kill a man and bury him as well, eh? It is only fitting to divide the labor. I'll leave the other, the Frenchman, to you—if we ever find him.”
Martinson grunted and turned away.
Together they went back to the treasure chamber. Chan Tou indicated that Doctor Hill had passed into slumber, and might better be left to sleep peacefully—she was in no danger whatever. ”

“ Catching up his tools, Martinson hurried back to meet Chan Tou in the main gateway. “What is it?”
“Superstition,” said the Manchu, unmoved from his endless calm. “What has stirred it up is another matter. I must leave you, to combat it.”
“What with?” demanded Martinson skeptically. “Guns?”
“No. Superstition.”
With his thin smile, he motioned the white man to remain, and himself departed. Martinson lighted a cigaret and waited, inside the inner gateway. The hand of Williams or Hamelet might be in this, he reflected—he remembered what Doctor Hill had said, about a threat from Williams. ”

“ They replied, and presently two of them spoke in Mandarin, and to this Chan Tou made response in the same form, which Martinson quite understood.
“Where then is the man who said that we, the magic healers, have defiled your dead? Let him step forth.”
“He is not here, Lord,” faltered the geomancer.
Chan Tou laughed at them, a deep rolling laugh of scorn and anger.
“Sons of turtles!” he said in contempt, and flung open the gate, stepping aside. “Enter! We healers have given ourselves in your service: these twenty years you have gained healing in this place, free and at no charge. ”

“ Obviously her interest did not lie in the value of the piece, though Martinson could comprehend what this value must be. Now he could quite understand why Hamelet and Williams were dimly allied with Japanese and unscrupulous Americans. For such a piece of bronze as this, a wealthy Chinaman would pay a small fortune; any Japanese collector would pay a large fortune, since the Japanese know their culture goes back to China and eagerly assimilate all the old Chinese pieces they can find; any American collector would pay two fortunes in the hope of leaving his name inscribed in a museum ”

“ Doctor Hill can remain here—one will be enough. Our work lies out beyond, in the villages. We must disinfect, and burn where things have gone too far. Those dead here must be burned.”
“Thank heaven the main job here is ended!”
“There'll be enough for one,” said the Manchu grimly.
Over their coffee, they stole time for a cigaret. In this moment of rest and relaxation before taking up the new and terrible duties fronting them, Martinson for the first time remembered Hamelet, the cup of Wu Ti, and the mute. He questioned, and Chan Tou nodded gravely. ”

“ The road was bad, but the mules were good. Martinson was still trying to know this new self when they rode down, away from the highway, into the ragged little village which they had sought. The guide knew what to ask for—the dead, and any who were sick.
MARTINSON found two dead. To his unutterable relief, however, no cholera. He could have laughed as he looked at the first corpse, so strong was the reaction; in place of cholera, the deadly pneumonia of the mountains, cold high above and hot below. ”

“ A man brought me here, a mute—” Martinson described his guide, but the other had not heard of such a man. He went on to tell of Yut Lee's interest in Doctor Hill, and at this Chan Tou nodded comprehension, thoughtfully. “You may be able to catch up with Toi on the back trail to Hangow. If not, you'll find Yut Lee's launch at Hangow—she was to wait there for some word from me. Take her and get off at once. I'll do my best to help here, and we may save the cup yet.” ”

“ He will take you to a launch in the river, my launch. You will go aboard, and for three days will journey upriver. The fourth morning you will land, take mules, and go into the Wu Shan hills.”
“That is,” said Martinson, “if I take the job.”
“Conceded. Once in the hills,” resumed Yut Lee, placidly, “you will come to what was once the White Lotus Temple, but it is now the Wu Shan Hospital, standing just above a tiny village. It serves all the hill district, many villages, where there is no town. It is conducted by a woman, one Doctor Hill. You follow me?” ”

“ Send him after Hamelet! It's our one chance to get back the cup, Doctor.”
Chan Tou nodded. He broke into the hill dialect, speaking rapidly and earnestly. The mute listened, then came to his feet and nodded. Chan Tou smiled a little.
“He'll go—he knows where the mules are kept. You and I had better get to work, Mr. Martinson. Look down there!”
Martinson followed the pointing figure. Below, in the valley, he saw a group of figures, small in the sunlight.
“Those who seek the charm,” said the Manchu. “They will come in swarms—we have work ahead. Let's get the mules in and unload them.” ”

“ He and Chan Tou sat at hurried breakfast. The Manchu shrugged.
“What do you expect! The heat is unbroken. They take off the bodies and bury them, perhaps six inches under the surface. They've no strength to dig graves. If a breath comes from a village, you can smell corruption. Pestilence was inevitable, unless rain came.”
“You've sent for help?”
“Got off one of our new men to Hangow. Official action won't help us much. You know how it strikes?”
Martinson nodded silently. Chan Tou went on. steadily. ”

“ The third day was the hardest for Martinson, visiting a village far in among the hills, the limit of the scourge. Only one man was down here, dead instantly, and the local geomancer gathered the crowd against the foreign devil who wanted to spray and burn. ”

“ By George, this is a big thing for you, Doctor! Solves all your problems. As for the enclosed letter, suppose you keep it a while. Yut Lee says exactly what he means; it's a puzzle with an automatic solution, but he won't help us solve it.”
HE GLANCED at his watch. “Ten o'clock! Well, you'd better get some rest. Tomorrow's the big day, if that mute gets back with the vaccine and supplies. Chan Tou has the wards for the night, I think?”
She nodded and held out her hand to him, with her evanescent smile.
“Good night, Mr. Martinson. I'm happy—and I'm very grateful to you.” ”

“ Doctor Hill smiled. “I like missionaries, some of them,” she said brightly. Suddenly, it broke upon Martinson how all this attack was aimed to divert her thoughts. “They are fearfully earnest, of course, and so rather ludicrous—but a good many of us take ourselves seriously. And they are good folk.”
[Illustration: Hamelet was a suave Frenchman, a cultured man willing to sell his soul at the right price.] ”

“ It meant hard riding from morn until night, exhausting work, nauseating work. To the great majority of those touched, death came with merciful rapidity; this was the black death of olden times, the concentrated poison of corruption acting on enfeebled bodies. ”

“ Yut Lee grinned and pursued his level tone.
“You will stop there a little while, looking for silver mines in the neighborhood. There are none, but no matter. If a Frenchman arrives, you will watch him closely. If another American arrives, you will watch him more closely. You will see that no harm comes to Doctor Hill from these two. She will trust you, because I will give you a letter to her.”
“Who's the American in the case?” snapped Martinson. ”

“ Chan Tou was absent a bare six hours, and returned during the night with word that he had caught the mute on the highway and had turned over the errand to him—Toi had promised to go direct to Shanghai with the letters. The Manchu reported that the mute was a small trader and hillman. And with his return, Chan gave Martinson his chance to leave.
“I am back, there is nothing to keep you now,” he said flatly.
“Yes,” said Martinson. “There is much.” ”