Stolen Idols

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

  CHAPTER IV

  At very nearly the hour of his former visit, Gregory Ballaston enteredthe warehouse of Messrs. Johnson and Company, on the following morning.Wu Ling, seated at his table, waved away the stolid-looking nativeforeman to whom he was giving orders, and glanced enquiringly at hisvisitor.

  "Ship not gone?" he asked.

  "We don't sail until the afternoon," Gregory reminded him. "Haven't gotall our fresh stores shipped, or something. I came back to have a talk.Do you mind?"

  Wu Ling's gesture was noncommittal. The young man continued.

  "Last night," he confided, sinking into a chair, "I unpacked my Image. Itook it out and looked at it, with my porthole closed and my doorlocked, although I imagine that now that the priests are dead there isno fear of my being followed.--Wu Ling, I wish to God that you were anEnglishman!"

  "Why for?"

  "I could talk to you more easily."

  There was a brief silence. Wu Ling, stolid, powerful, imperturbable, satwith his keen enquiring eyes fixed upon his visitor. Gregory showedsigns of some slight relapse from his well-being of the day before. Hisnatural, bronzed complexion which had almost reasserted itself, seemedto have given place again to the pallor which denoted a sleepless night.There were lines under his eyes, a restlessness in his manner.

  "You found Image bad company?" Wu Ling enquired.

  "I hate the beastly thing already," Gregory acknowledged.

  Wu Ling clapped his hands softly together. The screen of bamboos waspushed to one side and Mr. Endacott appeared. He had discarded hisEuropean clothes in favour of the dress of a native Chinese gentleman,and he carried a white umbrella.

  "Our young friend again," he remarked, with a brief salutation.

  Wu Ling pointed to a chair.

  "He wish talk to you."

  Mr. Endacott glanced at his watch before he sat down.

  "I am about to visit the head of the Chinese University here," heannounced. "A man of rare intelligence and great learning! Why should Iwaste my time? Have you found the jewels in your Image, Mr. Ballaston?"

  "Not a sign of them up to the present, sir," Gregory admitted. "I am notvery happy about them, either. As you know, the whole thing was a prettydangerous enterprise, and I've only half succeeded. The Image is heavyenough, but I can't see any possible aperture anywhere."

  "The recovery of the jewels," Mr. Endacott remarked, leaning a littleforward, with his hands clasped upon the knob of his umbrella, "wasscarcely likely to be a simple matter."

  "I realise that," Gregory confessed. "Already I am beginning to feel asort of hatred of the thing. For the first time last night," he went on,"I felt inclined to take seriously what Wu Ling here and you have saidof these Images; that neither of them has any real existence separately.Side by side they have looked down upon that procession of worshippersthrough all these years. Side by side they must be, you have told me,according to the superstition, if the jewels are to be found."

  Mr. Endacott inclined his head.

  "Our young friend is showing signs of intelligence," he admitted. "He isbeginning to travel along the lines of the allegory."

  "If this is true," Gregory asked bluntly, "what is the use of my takingone to England and leaving the other here in this warehouse?"

  "The only reason for such a course seems to be," his companion murmured,"that one does not belong to you. Perhaps you can trade with the firm. Imyself am not a trader. Wu Ling is. Wu Ling, I am sure, is at yourdisposal."

  "How can I trade?" Gregory demanded. "What do you suppose brought me outhere on an enterprise like this? Love of adventure a good deal, I grantyou, but, behind it all, sheer and absolute need of money. We are poorin England to-day, Mr. Endacott, we people with estates. I haven't themoney to buy your Image. After my experience of last night I wouldrather consider an offer from you for mine."

  Wu Ling smiled. He talked for a moment in Chinese to his companion. Thelatter showed signs of agreement.

  "Wu Ling's attitude is mine," Mr. Endacott pronounced. "If by any chanceyou had acquired the statue we possess and we had yours, the firm ofJohnson and Company would trade. Not now. We are content."

  "Then you don't believe in your own allegory?" Gregory queried.

  Wu Ling was looking into the dark recesses of the warehouse. There wasnothing to indicate that he had heard or understood, but it was he whoreplied.

  "Yes, I believe in it," he admitted. "We both believe in it, but we havemany jewels and I think that these will be hard to find."

  "If you had both the Images," Gregory suggested, "you could break themup."

  Mr. Endacott raised his hand to his forehead as though in pain. WuLing's expression appeared unchanged. Yet somehow or other he gave onethe impression of having listened with distaste to words of blasphemy.

  "You speak like a huckster from the new cities," Mr. Endacott saidwearily. "They are great works of art, these Images, sanctified by theyears, alive by virtue of their greatness. To raise a hand against themwould be barbarous. Besides, Wu Ling and I believe the legend. Webelieve that those will die who treat the Images roughly."

  Gregory remained discontented. He took a cigarette from the large woodenbox which Wu Ling pushed towards him. The box was of some sort ofsandalwood, but it, too, seemed to give out the peculiar odour of theplace.

  "Last night," he confided, "when I sat alone with my Image, it came backto me how my father himself had insisted upon the necessity for securingboth Images. He too must have been impressed by the legend. He'll thinkmy errand a failure if I return with one."

  "Without money how buy?" Wu Ling asked. "Johnson and Company, we aretraders. For gold we sell anything on earth. Without gold, how can buy?"

  "It is a problem," Gregory admitted gloomily.

  "You had, perhaps, a proposition?" Mr. Endacott suggested.

  "Something of the sort. That is why I came to see you this morning. Iwondered whether you would let me take your Image to England with mine,and, whilst they were together, have them examined in the BritishMuseum, and see if any possible trace of opening or access to theinterior of them is to be found? Of course, I shall do that with minewhen I get there, anyhow, but you see I am beginning to fall in linewith your superstition. I feel that both Images ought to be treated atthe same time."

  "And if the jewels should be discovered?" Mr. Endacott enquired.

  "We would divide equally," was Gregory's prompt proposal.

  Wu Ling, a man not given to gestures, beat the air in front of himgently with the fingers of his hands.

  "We would not agree," he said. "I would not agree. Mr. Endacott wouldnot agree. Our partner, who is not here, would not agree."

  Gregory frowned. He followed Wu Ling's steadfast gaze, followed it intothe further recesses of the second warehouse. He began to think of theImage he had lost, the Image in the steel chamber. A sense of its beautysuddenly possessed him. He coveted it passionately.

  "In a way," he ventured, "the Image which you have locked up there, theImage which you call the Soul, rather belongs to me, don't you think? Ihave, at least, a claim upon it. I fought to secure it. My friend losthis life in defending it."

  Wu Ling's smile was almost a genuine effort at mirth. Mr. Endacottchuckled sardonically.

  "If I were you, young man," he advised, "I don't think that I wouldpursue that line of argument."

  "It was stolen property," Gregory persisted doggedly.

  "And the stolen property was stolen," Mr. Endacott reminded him.

  There was a silence. An impasse seemed to have been reached. It seemedindeed as though there were nothing more to be done, no further argumenthe could use. Yet Gregory Ballaston sat as though rooted to the spot. Toleave the place with his desire unattained seemed almost a physicalimpossibility. Then, unexpectedly, Wu Ling spoke at some length.

  "What you come here to say," he began, "has reason. You come here withan idea which is right. Body and Soul you cannot part. Your Imagewithout that one which belongs to
Johnson and Company is a thing ofevil. The Image we have locked in our treasure chamber is a thing ofgreat beauty, and no more. You who desire the jewels cannot buy. We, towhom the jewels mean little, will not sell. Listen to me, younggentleman. I propose something."

  "Go on," Gregory begged eagerly.

  "You," Wu Ling continued, "have a quality of the Chinese in you, or youwould not have risked life for this adventure. You are gambler. Me too.I offer this. I will gamble with you for the two Images."

  Gregory Ballaston held his cigarette away from his mouth and stared atthe speaker. Temporarily, at any rate, his nonchalance had left him.

  "Are you in earnest?" he demanded.

  Wu Ling nodded gravely. Gregory glanced towards the professor. Thelatter also inclined his head gently.

  "If Wu Ling says so," he murmured.

  "Gamble! But how? What games do we both know?"

  "There is a Chinese game," Wu Ling began----

  "Not having any," Gregory interrupted drily. "I have heard of theseChinese games. What about poker?"

  "Not understand," Wu Ling regretted.

  Gregory sat for a moment or two deep in disturbed thought. More thananything he had ever coveted in the world he coveted that other Image.

  "Look here," he decided at last, "I accept. But we don't need to play agame at all. Send for a pack of cards, have them well shuffled and deala card to each of us. The highest wins."

  Wu Ling nodded approvingly.

  "It is simple," he assented. "We do that. If you win, my porters shallpack Image and you can take it to ship. If you lose you bring yourshere."

  Gregory moistened his lips which were already a little dry.

  "It is agreed," he said.

  Wu Ling opened one of the lower drawers of his desk. He searched for afew moments and then produced an ordinary pack of playing cards. He laidthem upon the table.

  "In here?" Gregory demanded, glancing at the silent forms, always movingaround them.

  "Why not?" Wu Ling replied. "What we do is nothing to them. They seenothing. They work."

  Mr. Endacott chuckled as he took the cards in his hands and shuffledthem.

  "You will lose, young man," he warned Gregory. "I've seen a great manygames of cards in this city, but I have never yet seen a European whocould hold his own against a Chinese."

  "This isn't a game," Gregory pointed out. "It's just a show-down. Mychance must be as good as his. We'll make it the best of three, though."

  "How?" Wu Ling queried politely.

  "A card each three times," his partner explained, "and the one who winstwice out of three times gets the Images. It appears to me that I too amrather largely interested in this. Any choice as to who turns the firstcard up?"

  Gregory shook his head, cut the cards which were handed to him, andpassed them to Wu Ling. The latter hesitated only for the fraction of asecond. Then he threw one card to his opponent and one to himself.Gregory's card was a knave; his own a queen.

  "One up to the firm," Mr. Endacott observed.

  Gregory took the cards. His hands were beginning to shake. He gave hisopponent a four. He himself threw down a ten.

  "One each," he exclaimed, trying his best to keep his tone level.

  He shuffled and passed the cards across once more. Wu Ling sat for amoment toying with them, almost as though in silent prayer. Then hethrew a card to Gregory.

  "A king!" the latter cried exultantly.

  "And the firm has an ace," Mr. Endacott pointed out, as Wu Ling's cardfell upon the table.

  Gregory sat staring at it, motionless and rigid, the light of triumphfading from his face. There had been gamblers in his family, though, andheredity asserted itself. He rose calmly to his feet.

  "I'll go down and pack the Image," he said.

  Wu Ling clapped his hands. His expression had never varied. He showed nosigns, even of content.

  "There will be porters who attend you," he announced. "They will followyour 'rickshaw and bring back the Image."

  Gregory held out his hand, even then scarcely realising the position.All this risk and privation for nothing, his friend's life for nothing,all gone on the turn of a card. For a moment the place with its strangeatmosphere seemed unreal, his adventure a nightmare. Then he heard WuLing giving orders to the foreman and saw him point to the harbour. Hechoked down his feelings.

  "I shall not sympathise with you," Mr. Endacott said, as he shook hands."Your enterprise has never commended itself to me, and your possessionof the Body without the Soul was never a thing to be envied."

  Gregory could not trust himself to reply. He held out his hand to WuLing, who took it gravely.

  "At least, Wu Ling," he said, "if you have spoilt my trip out here, yousaved my life. I don't think it's worth much, but I thank you. Send theporters along."

  He turned and left the place; a tall, slim figure, graceful and trim inhis well-fitting clothes, the strangest contrast to the blue-smockedcoolies and one or two native traders through whom he had almost to pushhis way. He walked out into the broiling sun and disappeared.

  Mr. Endacott glanced at Wu Ling, and Wu Ling, with the cards in hishand, smiled back at him.

  The morning wore on, the afternoon came and passed. Mr. Endacott, whohad spent a pleasant few hours with his Chinese friend, returned to findrepose reigning throughout the rambling premises of Messrs. Johnson andCompany. A fierce sun had suddenly blazed once more through the driftingmasses of mist--gone now, as breath from a looking-glass. The water inthe harbour was indigo blue, the junks and dhows and native fishingcraft were all becalmed, like painted ships upon a still ocean. Thesirens blew no more. All who could were at rest. The porters in thewarehouse had crept into the dark shady corners and lay theremotionless. Half a dozen clerks, young men of superior station who woreEuropean clothes and babbled a little English, had retired to theshelter of an adjoining tea house. Only Wu Ling sat still in his place,waiting. Mr. Endacott took in the situation at a glance.

  "They have not returned, our porters?" he enquired.

  "Not yet."

  "And the ship sails?"

  "It is past due."

  Endacott smiled.

  "The truth is as old as life," he said. "The things which are writtenhere are written behind the veil. That young man came from what, from aWestern point of view, we used to think good stock. His father was underme at Oxford. His grandfather and generations before him were men ofgood repute. Still, that counts for nothing, and we know why. He has theBody. Why wait, Wu Ling?"

  "You think that his word it is broken," the latter asked, "broken to uswho scorned even to watch him to the ship?"

  Mr. Endacott shook his head.

  "He has the Body," he repeated.

  There was a pattering of feet outside; feet that passed swiftly acrossthe pavement of blistered heat. A little troop of porters entered andsought shelter. The foreman advanced and stood silent before Wu Ling'sdesk.

  "Speak," Wu Ling directed.

  "We waited on the dock," the man recounted. "We waited in the heat.Hours went by. Then, as the ship moved away, the Englishman leaned overthe rail. He called out to us, 'There is nothing to send back.' Then hedisappeared."

  "So you returned," Wu Ling murmured.

  "So we returned," the man assented.

  Wu Ling rose to his feet and stood at the window. There was a clamour ofsirens blowing through the sultry, stagnant air, a waving ofhandkerchiefs from a distant dock. A great steamer was drifting out, herbows set westward. Wu Ling watched her gathering speed through the lazysea, leaving behind her a wake like a rope of snow in the deep blue ofthe waters which she parted. The smoke belched from her funnels.Somewhere on board her was Gregory Ballaston and his booty. Endacottlaid his hand upon the arm of Wu Ling whom he loved.

  "The young man has done ill," he said, "but the Soul is ours."