The Mandarin's Fan

Mrs. Petley had recovered from her swoon and, with her husband, had retreated to the kitchen. So, Rupert learned from Olivia, and he then gave her a description of his finding of the fan. She was very amazed and curious. "Show it to me," she said.

"Not just now, dear," replied Rupert walking to the door. "I must ask Mrs. Petley first to explain what she saw."

"She declares it was Abbot Raoul."

"Pooh. Forge masquerading as the monk I expect. Though why he should come here and bring this infernal fan I cannot understand. What is the time, Olivia?"

"Nine o'clock," she replied, "we had dinner early."

"Yes. Well, I'll see Mrs. Petley. You need not say anything about the fan, and as old John didn't see me pick it up, there will be no difficulty with him."

"Why should there be any difficulty with him?" asked Mrs. Ainsleigh.

"Your aunt was killed for the sake of the fan, and the person who killed her must have been within these grounds to-night. I want to keep the matter quiet, until I see Rodgers to-morrow. Then I'll explain all, and place the fan in his hands."

"Then you think Dr. Forge has been here?"

"Yes – or Clarence Burgh. But, as they have left Marport, I don't see what they have to gain by remaining in a place fraught with so much danger to both."

"They can't both be guilty, Rupert."

"No. But Burgh declares that Forge strangled your aunt, and Miss Pewsey lays the blame on her nephew. But I don't believe either one of them. I shouldn't be at all surprised to learn that the assassin is Major Tidman after all. He wanted the fan badly, so as to get the money."

"But you were with him on the beach, between eleven and twelve."

"I was, and the evidence of Dr. Forge went to show that Miss Wharf was killed between those hours. But suppose, Olivia," Rupert sank his voice and drew nearer. "Suppose Forge knew from the condition of the body that your aunt had been killed before eleven, and had procured the fan from Tidman by threatening to say so, in which case the Major could not have proved an alibi."

"It might be so," replied Mrs. Ainsleigh, "but then the body would have been found earlier."

"No. There was not a single person, so far as I know, who went down those steps. Tung-yu certainly did, – but that was after the crime was committed, and we know he did not carry the fan with him. It is a very strange case. Perhaps after all, Tidman had already killed the woman when he joined me on the beach to smoke."

"Oh Rupert, how horrid. Was he disturbed?"

"He certainly seemed rather alarmed but I put that down to the circumstances. He never shook off his fear of that adventure he had in Canton, and of course the mere presence of Chinamen would make him uneasy. But he kept his own council. However, we can talk of this later. I must see Mrs. Petley," and Rupert disappeared.

The housekeeper stuck to her story. She had gone into the cloisters to gather mushrooms which grew therein, and had the lantern with her. While stooping at the archway to see what she could pick she heard, even through the moaning of the wind the swish of a long garment. The sound brought her to her feet, and – as she phrased it – with her heart in her mouth. The place was uncanny and she had seen the Abbot before. "But never so plain – oh never so plain," wailed Mrs. Petley, throwing her apron over her white hair and rocking. "I held the light over my head and dropped it with a screech, for, there, not a yard away, Master Rupert, I saw it, with a long gown and a hood over its wicked white face – "

"Did you see the face?"

"I did, just as I dropped the lantern. White and wicked and evil. I dropped on my knees and said a prayer with closed eyes and then it went. I took the lantern and ran for the house for dear life, till I burst in on you and the mistress. Oh, Master Rupert dear, what did you see?"

"Nothing! And I believe, Mrs. Petley, you beheld some rascal masquerading."

"No! No! T'was a ghost – oh dreary me, my days are numbered."

Mrs. Petley could not be persuaded that the thing she saw was flesh and blood, so Rupert gave up trying to convince her. He returned the lantern back to old John and told the couple to retire to bed. They were both white and nervous and not fit to be up. Then he came back to the drawing-room and found Olivia seated by the fire reading. At the door Rupert paused to think what a pretty picture she made in her rich dinner-dress – one of Miss Wharf's gifts – and with one small hand supporting her dainty head. She looked up, as though she felt the magic of his gaze, and he approached swiftly to press a kiss on the hand she held out to him. "Well?" asked Olivia.

Rupert shrugged his shoulders. "There's nothing to be learned," said he, "Mrs. Petley won't give in. She believes she has seen a ghost, and declares that her days are numbered. As she is nearly seventy, I daresay they are. But this fan," – he took it out of his pocket.

"Let me see it," said Olivia stretching out her hand.

But Rupert drew it away and spread out the leaves. "No, my dear, I don't like you to handle the horrible thing. And besides, you have seen it often enough in the hand of your aunt."

"Yes, but now there is an awful significance about it."

"There's blood – "

"Blood," cried his wife shuddering, "but she was strangled."

"I speak figuratively, my dear. This little trifle has cost one life: it may cost more. I am quite sure Lo-Keong's life hangs on this fan, or he would not be so anxious to get it back. It has a secret, and I intend to learn what the secret is."

"Oh, you mean to wave it in the smoke," said Olivia remembering what Rupert had told her of Tung-yu's speech.

"Yes I do. I want to see the invisible picture. Then, we may learn of this hiding place which contains the things, Lo-Keong's enemies wish to secure. I expect it is some treasonous correspondence."

"But, Rupert, the hiding-place will be in China. Lo-Keong would not send papers of that kind to be concealed in England."

"It would be the safest place," replied Rupert dryly, "however, I intend to try the experiment of waving this fan in the smoke."

"You don't know the kind of smoke?"

"I can guess the kind. Olivia do you remember that joss stick which Mrs. Petley found in the Abbey."

"Yes – at the time she saw the ghost."

"Precisely. The ghost left that joss-stick behind on the first occasion, and the fan on the second. Now I shouldn't wonder if the fan had got into the hands of Hwei, and that he was the ghost."

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, Hwei confessed that he was lurking outside the Bristol hotel to get a chance of killing Miss Wharf when she was lured out by Tung-yu. That gentleman however played false. All the same Hwei was here, and perhaps he came up to the Abbey – "

"Why?" asked Olivia looking perplexed.

"Ah, that I can't tell you. But I fancy the answer is to be found in this fan, as soon as we see the picture."

"But the smoke."

"Must be made by that joss-stick. It smells like cinnamon, and is apparently a manufactured article. Hwei brought it, so that he could wave the fan in its smoke and then learn the secret. But he dropped the joss-stick and – where is it Olivia?"

"I put it in a drawer over there, after you showed it to me."

Mrs. Ainsleigh went to a rose-wood cabinet and opened a drawer. She then returned with the joss-stick in her hand, and gave it to her husband, who was kneeling on the hearth-rug. "I hope it won't explode, Rupert," said Olivia nervously.

He stared. "Why should you think that?"

"Well it might have been dropped on purpose, and looks like a cracker with that red paper round it. Perhaps there's dynamite – "

"Nonsense," said Rupert taking out a match, "however, if you are afraid, go into the next room."