The Mandarin's Fan

"I know the rest. I got the packet from Burgh."

"Yes, and he tried to drown you. Hwei and Tung-yu were struggling together, as Tung-yu wanted to get the packet from you. But Hwei stabbed him with the same knife he had used to kill Miss Pewsey, and in his death grip, Tung-yu drew Hwei into the water. Both were dead and still locked in each other's embrace when they were drawn out. Lo-Keong said that Tung-yu deserved his doom for having trifled with Kwang-ho, but he mourns for Hwei."

"It seems to be much of a muchness," said Rupert, "and Burgh?"

"Rodgers threw himself on him, and he was secured. You were taken away, and I was telegraphed for. But while Burgh was being taken to prison he contrived to escape, and got away in the darkness."

"But Olivia, it was a bright, moonlight night."

"At first it was, but the moon set and darkness came on. The police have been searching for Burgh, but he has not been found, and it is supposed he has got away from England."

"I hope so," said Rupert with a shudder. "I never wish to set eyes on him again. So that's the end of it all."

"Not quite. Lo-Keong is in the library with Mr. Asher. Oh, Rupert, you must prepare yourself for the best of news."

The young man rose, and was led downstairs by his wife, "I am quite ready to hear the good news," he said, as they descended. "I have had far too much bad news in my life."

As Olivia said, the lawyer was waiting in the library, and stood before the fire with an expectant face. Lo-Keong, in even more gorgeous robes than he had worn on the occasion of his first visit, was seated in his stately manner near the window. He rose as the master of Royabay entered, and came forward with a serious smile.

"My young friend," said the Mandarin. "I have to thank you for saving my life. The papers which would have ruined me, and which would have cost me my head, have been burnt. Hwei is dead, and Tung-yu; so no one but yourself knows what those papers meant. My august mistress will never have proof that I was engaged in the Boxer rebellion, and Hop Sing will be degraded for ever."

"And you, Marquis?"

"I shall receive the yellow jacket," said the Mandarin, proudly, "now I remain but a short time here. I go to London in an hour, and this evening I leave for the Continent on my way to China. We shall never meet again Mr. Ainsleigh, unless you come to Pekin."

"No," said Olivia, instinctively protecting Rupert, "we have had enough of China, Marquis. Sit down, Rupert."

Ainsleigh took a chair, and the Marquis smiled blandly. "Well, well, well," he said, "it is natural you should feel rather nervous of my countrymen, though I assure you, if you do visit me, that you will be quite safe and highly honoured."

"No, thank you Marquis," said Rupert wearily, for he was beginning to feel fatigued.

"I see you are tired," said Lo-Keong, in his stately manner, "so I will merely say I hope to send you some presents from my own country, and then Mr. Asher can speak," he bowed to the solicitor.

"I am glad to tell Mr. Ainsleigh," said the lawyer, "that the Marquis has handed me securities which show that the sum of one hundred thousand pounds is invested in your name. We can transfer the securities to English investments if you like but – "

"I'll leave them in Chinese," said Rupert quickly.

Lo-Keong bowed in a gratified manner. "You will be wise," he said, "they are safe investments and all my interest at the Imperial court, will go to make you richer, if I can."

"You have done enough, Marquis," said Ainsleigh gratefully, "you have given me back my old home."

"And we will be rich besides," said Olivia delightedly.

"There's another thing," said Mr. Asher, looking at the girl, "Miss Pewsey made a will in your favour, Mrs. Ainsleigh."

Olivia drew back with a red face. "Impossible! She hated me."

"Well," said Asher dryly, "I expect she repented of her evil deeds, or perhaps she hated her nephew more than she did you. That gentleman wrote from a Continental address to Mr. Paster asking if his aunt had left him the money as she promised. I expect the address is a false one, as Mr. Burgh won't wish to be caught."

"He is a bold man that," said Lo-Keong.

"He is," assented Asher, "but he won't benefit. Mrs. Ainsleigh gets the five hundred a year, the freehold of Ivy Lodge, and also the mortgage which Miss Wharf bought to ruin Mr. Ainsleigh."

"We have everything – everything," cried Olivia.

"I am very thankful," said Rupert. "Mr. Asher – "

"I'll see you about the investments when you are stronger," said the lawyer, "meanwhile here is the carriage at the door. The Marquis is kind enough to give me a lift," and Mr. Asher took his leave, with a profound bow, to so opulent a client as Rupert.

The Marquis Lo-Keong came forward with his kind smile. "Before I wish you good-bye and all happiness," he said, holding out the famous fan, "will you take this?"

"No," said Olivia, preventing Rupert from accepting it, "I hate the very sight of the thing. It has blood on it."

"I think you are right, Mrs. Ainsleigh," said the Chinaman gravely, "and, as it has done its duty, it may as well go the way of the packet which now is ashes," and advancing to the fire, he flung the fan on the burning coals. It burst into a blaze, and in a few minutes all had vanished save the slivers of jade and the beads. The housemaid collected these next morning and gave them to Olivia, who threw them off the Marport pier. So that was the end of the Mandarin's fan.

"And now," said Lo-Keong, bowing, "good-bye, and great happiness to you both."

Rupert and Olivia shook hands warmly, and thanked him heartily. The Mandarin walked out of the room in his stately way, and they went to the window to see him drive off. At the bend of the avenue, he waved his hand graciously, and that was the last the master and mistress of Royabay saw of the man who had owned the fan.

A chuckle at the door made the couple turn from the window. There, peering in, stood Mrs. Petley, who had stuck with her husband to Rupert during his troubles. Her face was shining, and old John seemed to be years younger. Mrs. Petley, for some queer reason, threw a shoe at the pair. "Health and happiness," she said, "begging your pardons both. But to think of money and happiness, and no walking of that blessed monk, who – "

"He never walked," said Rupert smiling, "it was Hwei – "

"Begging your pardon, sir, Hwei – whosoever he is, didn't walk all the time. Abbot Raoul did appear, as I can testify, and so can John here. But now the prophecy has been fulfilled, perhaps he'll rest quiet in his grave, drat him."

"The prophecy?" said Olivia, who was holding her husband's hand.

From behind Mrs. Petley came the quavering voice of the ancient butler, declaiming the rude rhymes: —

"My curse from the tyrants will never depart,
For a sword in the hands of the angel flashes:
Till Ainsleigh poor, weds the poor maid of his heart,
And gold be brought forth from the holy ashes."

"And that's quite true," said a jovial voice, and Major Tidman, as smart and stout as ever, entered. "How do, Ainsleigh, I'm glad to see you looking so well. Yes," he added, sitting down, "you were poor Ainsleigh when you married – "

"And I was poor also," cried Olivia.

"Very good, the third line is fulfilled and the fourth – "

"Was gold brought forth from the holy ashes?" asked Rupert.

"Yes, Master Rupert," said old John, "you picked up the fan in the place where the ashes were, and out of the fan has come gold. The prophecy is fulfilled, sure enough, and I hope Abbot Raoul will stop walking for ever."

"Of course he will," cried Mrs. Petley, dragging her husband outside, "there's no more trouble for you, Master Rupert and Miss Olivia."

"Mr. and Mrs. Ainsleigh, of Royabay," said Tidman, laughing, "give them their proper titles, Mrs. Petley. And I think the present occasion deserves a bottle of port."

The ancient butler went away with his wife, to bring forth one of the last bottles of that priceless vintage. Major Tidman, gloating in anticipation, sat still, and smiled with a bland face. But Rupert drew Olivia to the sofa, and they sat down where they had often mourned on many a weary day. "Dearest," said Ainsleigh, kissing her.