The Mandarin's Fan

"Is Tung-yu there?" asked Ainsleigh, quickly.

"Yes. In some place in Rotherhithe. He writes from there, in this letter. Read it," and he passed it to his host.

Rupert glanced over the few lines which were very neatly written on yellow paper. The letter was to the effect that if Major Tidman would bring the fan to a certain place in Rotherhithe, he would receive the money. "Humph," said Ainsleigh, handing it back, "so it seems that Tung-yu has not got the fan."

"Yes, confound him, and he thinks I have it, in which case he must believe that I murdered Miss Wharf."

Rupert nodded. "It looks like it," said he, "what will you do?"

"I don't know. I do not want another Canton adventure. I thought," here the Major hesitated, "I thought you might go."

Ainsleigh did not burst out into a voluble refusal, as Tidman expected, but stared at the fire. Seeing this, Tidman urged his point. "I think if you went, you might get at the truth of the matter," he said. "If Tung-yu didn't murder Miss Wharf, who did? Will you go?"

Rupert still gazed at the fire. He was thinking of the eight thousand pounds due to him, held by Lo-Keong and which, if gained, would pay off Miss Pewsey. "Yes," said he at length, "I'll go."

It was a risk, as he knew, but the money was worth the risk.

CHAPTER XV

The Rotherhithe Den

As a rule, Rupert told his wife everything, thinking there could be no happiness, unless a married couple were frank with one another. Also, he frequently went to Olivia for advice, believing in the keen feminine instinct, which usually sees what is hidden from the denser masculine understanding. But on this occasion, he refrained from revealing the object of his visit to London, as he knew she would be feverishly anxious, all the time he was absent. It was just possible that Hwei might be at Rotherhithe instead of Tung-yu, and then Rupert might meet with a death similar to that of Miss Wharf. Certainly he had not the fan, and never did possess it; but how was he to convince a distrustful Asiatic of that.

Therefore, Rupert went to town one afternoon by the nine o'clock evening train from Marport, and Olivia thought, he was merely going to see his lawyer on business connected with Miss Pewsey's mortgage. Her husband was to return the next day in time for luncheon, and, as he had often run up to town before, Olivia had no misgivings. Had she been aware of the danger he was going into, she assuredly would not have let him go. Mrs. Ainsleigh had led an unhappy life, and now that things were brighter, she certainly did not wish to see her days clouded, by the loss of the husband whom she loved so dearly.

As what money there was, went to keep up Royabay, its master was too poor to travel first class. But he was lucky enough to find a third class smoking carriage empty, and sat down very content. Owing to the nature of his errand, he wished to be alone, to think out his mode of procedure. Tung-yu would not be an easy person to deal with, still less would Hwei, should he happen to be on the spot, and Ainsleigh had little knowledge of the Chinese character. From what Forge said, he judged it to be dangerous.

There were few people travelling by the train, and Rupert quite believed that he would have the compartment to himself. But just as the train was moving off, a man dashed into the carriage and dropped breathlessly on the seat. "I guess that was a narrow squeak," he gasped.

"Mr. Burgh," said Rupert, by no means pleased.

"Well, I am surprised," said the buccaneer, "if it ain't Ainsleigh."

"Mr. Ainsleigh," was Rupert's reply, for he disliked the man too much to tolerate this familiarity.

"Oh, shucks," retorted Burgh wiping his forehead, "'tisn't any use putting on frills with me, sir. I guess I'm as good a man as you, any day."

"Let us admit you are better," said Rupert coldly, "and cease conversation."

But this Mr. Burgh was not inclined to do. "I reckon this old tram won't stop at any station for half an hour," said he pulling out a long black cigar, "so I don't see why we should sit like dummies for thirty minutes. Come along, let's yarn. You think I'm a wrong un'. Well, I guess I'm no holy Bill if that's what you mean. But I surmise that I'm friendly enough with you, Ainsleigh."

"Our last interview was not of a friendly character."

"You bet. You laid me out proper, and gave it to me pretty free. I respect a man who knocks me down. I thought you'd curl up when faced, Ainsleigh, but I see you're a fighter. That being so, why I climb down. Not that I'm a coward – oh, no – not by a long chalk: but I know how to size up things."

"And how do you size them up in this case?"

"Well," said Clarence lighting up, "I guess you've got the bulge on me. I was sweet on your wife, but you aimed a bulls-eye, and I got left. That being so, I conclude to leave other man's goods alone."

"Meaning Mrs. Ainsleigh," said Rupert dryly, "thank you."

"Oh, no thanks. I've got enough sins already without putting a gilded roof on my iniquities. See here," Clarence leaned forward and looked agreeable, though his wicked black eyes snapped fire, "why shouldn't you and I be friends?"

Rupert did not reply at once. He did not like Burgh, who was an aggressive bully of the Far West. All the same, something might be learned from Burgh, relative to the murder, and to the Chinaman. He knew Hwei and knew something of the fan, so Rupert resolved to be on reasonably friendly terms with the buccaneer in the hope of learning something likely to be of use. If Mr. Burgh had a lantern, there was no reason why Ainsleigh should not use the light to illuminate his somewhat dark path. Therefore, when Rupert did speak, it was to express a wish to be friendly. Yet, strange to say, as soon as he showed a disposition to come forward, Clarence, the wary, showed an equal disposition to retire. "Ho," said the buccaneer, "I guess you want my help, or you wouldn't be so friendly all at once."

"I am friendly by your own desire," said Ainsleigh dryly, "if you like, we need not talk, but can part as enemies."

"No," said Burgh throwing himself indolently back on the cushions, "fact is, I need you and you need me."

"How do I need you?" asked Rupert sharply.

"Well," drawled Clarence, eying the clear-cut face of his late enemy, "it's just this way. Aunt Lavinia's an old cat. She was all square with me, so long as she thought I'd hitch up alongside Miss Rayner – "

"Mrs. Ainsleigh if you please, and leave out her name."

"Right oh. I'll use it only once. Aunty thought I'd annex the cash, and Mrs. Ainsleigh, and that she would live on the pair of us. But as things are Aunty has the cash and you've got the lady, so I am left – yes sir. I guess I've been bested by Aunty. Well sir, I calculate I'm not a millionaire, and I want cash to start out on the long trail. Aunty won't part, shabby old puss that she is; but I reckon if you'll help me, I'll rake in the dollars slick."

"Why should I help you?"

"To get square about that murder."

Rupert drew back, "Do you know? – "

"Oh I know nothing for certain, or I shouldn't take you into partnership, but I believe I can spot the person."

"Surely you don't think Miss Pewsey – "

"Oh no. She wouldn't harm anyone, unless she was on the right side. She's a cat, but is clever enough to keep herself from being lynched. 'Sides, she was comfortable enough with old Wharf, and wouldn't have sent her to camp out in the New Jerusalem, by strangling. But Aunty's going to hitch up long-side old Forge – "

"And he?" asked Rupert secretly excited, but looking calm enough.

"Go slow. I don't know anything for certain, but I guess Forge had a finger in the pie. He wanted the fan you know."

"Nonsense! He had the fan for two years and made no use of it."

"I reckon not. He didn't know its secret – and the secret's worth money I judge."

"Do you know the secret?"

"No. If I'd known I shouldn't have passed the article along to old Wharf. But I'm hunting for the secret, and when I find it out, I'll shake old Forge's life out for that fan."

"But Tung-yu has the fan?"

"Ho!" snorted the buccaneer, "and Tung-yu's gone to China with Hwei and the fan. Shucks! They gassed that at the inquest, but the poppy-cock don't go down along o' me. No Sir. I guess old Forge has the article. Now you sail in with me, and find out."

"How can I?"

"Well," said the buccaneer reflectively, "your father was a friend of the doctor's and he's chums with you. Just you get him to be confidential like, and then – "