A World to Win

by Sinclair, Upton;

  “Did you really have dreams about me, Lanny?”

  “I said that I wouldn’t, that I had no right to—but then I did.”

  “And all the time I was giving myself up for a hopeless old maid!”

  “Old maid?” he exclaimed, for he knew what a dreadful thing that was among Southern-minded people. “You are seven years younger than I am.”

  “Why, Lanny, how perfectly outrageous! How did you find that out?”

  “Bless your heart, you told me yourself.”

  “I never did anything of the sort! Wild horses couldn’t have dragged it out of me!”

  “You told it, while you were in trance.”

  “Oh! You asked me such questions!”

  “On my honor, I did not. You volunteered it when we were experimenting with age regression. You told about political affairs when you were sixteen years old. I knew it was a direful secret, so I kept it locked in my heart.”

  “And still you say you want to love me! And when you might have had one who was only twenty-one!”

  “It would have taken her at least thirteen years to find out what I was talking about—and then she would have disapproved of it heartily.”

  IX

  So they played at courtship, after the fashion which Laurel had been taught in her girlhood, by that same grandmother who now came to her in the spirit world and scolded her for not making proper use of her opportunities. “Mary Morrow” had conferred this art of coquetry upon the heroine of her partly completed novel, to the great bewilderment of the German lad in the university town. It didn’t bewilder Lanny, because he had had the advantage of reading the manuscript; also, there had been plenty of flirts on the Coast of Pleasure, beginning with Sophie Timmons, whose technique he had watched in childhood, and coming down to his half-sister Marceline in recent years.

  He ventured to take her hand. “You haven’t told me yet if you will marry me,” he objected.

  “Are you sure that you have asked me yet?” she countered.

  “I ask you now. Will you marry me, Laurel?”

  “I wonder—how does one get married in Hongkong?”

  “One can’t—it takes two.”

  “Three, I am sure. Somebody has to say the words.”

  “Mr. Foo will be able to tell us. We might have a Chinese wedding; they ring gongs and shoot off firecrackers and carry ‘happiness banners.’”

  “But no guns, Lanny. You will have to have this battle stopped. I couldn’t bear to be married while other people are being killed.”

  “I will have to see the Governor about that. But seriously, darling—will you marry me?”

  “This is so sudden, Lanny! I was brought up to look forward to a proper wedding, with veils and a trousseau, and at least four bridesmaids.”

  “When I was a little fellow—”

  “You must have been a delightful little fellow, Lanny!”

  “I heard a song about a bicycle built for two. Somebody was wooing Daisy, but it might as well have been another flower. Laurel, Laurel, give me your answer, do! I’m half crazy, all for the love of you! It won’t be a stylish marriage—I can’t afford a carriage—and so on. I don’t think I could get even a tandem bicycle here; but we might find the rector of this parish, or perhaps his curate. I don’t know what the law is, but maybe Althea can tell us, OF find out. But first of all, you have to say that you will marry me.”

  “Oh, Lanny, I’m not just playing! I am frightened—just as much as if I were a schoolgirl.”

  “I wonder,” he said, “what would happen if I were to kiss you?”

  “I really can’t tell. You might try and find out.”

  So he tried, and his lips met hers and stayed there. He put his arms about her and she put hers about him, and pretty soon there was no doubt about the answer. The blood mounted into her cheeks and the tears came into her eyes, and when they broke off the embrace she was sobbing a little. “Oh, Lanny, I am so happy! I have wanted you for so long!”

  “Is that really so, dear?”

  “I oughtn’t to tell you! You will discover how much I love you, and all my defenses will be gone!”

  “Don’t worry, I am not that sort of man. I want to be loved and I want to be trusted.”

  “I am different from you, Lanny. I don’t have to make my love like a cake. I am ‘in love’—or will be if I dare.”

  He kissed her again; he kissed her several times before he troubled her with any more similes or philosophical discourses. He hadn’t been sure whether she cared for him, she had been such a rigidly proper lady. But now he made sure, and he let her know beyond peradventure that he was a serious and ardent lover. The next time he asked her: “Will you marry me?” she answered, promptly and humbly: “Yes, Lanny.” So he kissed her again to seal the bargain and make sure she wouldn’t change her mind.

  X

  Mr. Foo had thoughtfully closed the drawing-room door; now Lanny got up and opened it. He clapped his hands and called: “Yoohoo!”—which he assumed might be Chinese for something. The others came quickly, and he told them that the answer was yes, and the old gentleman could not have been happier if it had been his own Number Three wedding. He wrung Lanny’s hand and then Laurel’s—it wasn’t “ladies first” in the Middle Kingdom. Althea kissed Laurel and was as pleased, good soul, as if she were the lucky one.

  Then came the problem of weddings. There was a Church of England chapel not far away, and Mr. Foo knew the clergyman; Althea, who had been to Hongkong before, had met him. She said that he would probably be ministering to the wounded, but perhaps they could go to him. Laurel, whose defenses were gone, said: “Tell him we shall take but a few minutes of his time.”

  Althea tried the telephone and found that it was still working. Hongkong was dying slowly, but clinging to life up to the last moment. There was no response from the clergyman’s house; at the host’s suggestion she tried other places and finally found him in a near-by country store which had been turned into a hospital. There was a discussion, and Althea said: “It is an emergency, for a reason which cannot be explained over the phone.” She, the good Episcopal lady, a physician who had been helping at the Jockey Club, had a right to be believed; also, a Chinese merchant who was wealthy and did many charities was a person to be obliged. The clergyman, who still had his car, promised to be there within the hour.

  So now began a great flurry; for of course you can’t just stand up and answer “yes” a few times and let that settle it. There is no part of the world where there doesn’t have to be excitement over a wedding. Mr. Foo’s household would have to be present, and must have time to put on festival clothing; there must be flowers in the room, and also something to eat—no time to bake a cake, but there would be wine, and sweet wafers, and candied fruit, whatever could be found in cellars and storerooms in a hurry. There were servants rushing this way and that, bowing to the blushing bride, and she having to be told what to do, and feeling rather dizzy, because it really was “so sudden.”

  There was one serious trouble, which Althea mentioned with hesitation. “I have been told that you are a divorced man, Mr. Budd; and Mr. Notting may not feel that he is permitted—you know, the practice of the Church of England is very strict.”

  “That’s all right,” said Lanny soothingly. “I can explain everything to him if he asks.”

  XI

  There came a very proper young English priest, wearing his black costume and round clerical collar; he was thin, stoop-shouldered, pale, and like everybody else on this doomed island had been working himself to exhaustion. Lanny explained the situation: the lady in the case was an American spinster aged thirty-four; he himself was an American widower aged forty-one. They had been left behind from the yacht Oriole, having missed it in a fog. They were about to make an effort to escape by sea, this night if there was fog; they would have to travel through the interior of the country, and manifestly this would be awkward if they were not married; the lady would be hopelessly compromised. She was a most r
espectable person, a niece of the yacht owner, Mr. Holdenhurst, who had dined with the Governor the night before the Japanese attack. She had known Lanny for three years and it was in all ways a proper match.

  Lanny had to think fast to get over that set of hurdles. Said he: “If you should marry us without a civil ceremony, and in a private home that marriage would be valid in the eyes of God, would it not?” When the clergyman admitted that it would, Lanny added: “We could presumably have a later ceremony in some place and under some circumstances which would be legally beyond controversy. Would that be enough for you, Laurel?”

  Since Lanny described himself, quite truthfully, as a widower, Mr. Notting had no thought of divorce and did not mention that subject. The trouble, he said, was with the ordinances of the territory of Hongkong; a license was required, and before it could be issued, the parties must give two weeks’ notice to the Registrar of Marriages. Furthermore, in order for a marriage to be legal, all British colonies require a civil ceremony to precede the religious. And furthermore, the ceremony was not permitted to be performed in a private home; it had to be in a building licensed for the purpose.

  Somewhat to his surprise she answered promptly: “It would.”

  So the prospective groom set to work to undermine the scruples of this conscientious gentleman on the subject of a license. Englishmen are not accustomed to the idea of remaking laws to suit themselves, or interpreting them according to their own convenience. But Mr. Notting could not deny that transportation on this island was almost unobtainable and the roads pitted with bomb craters. If anyone got into the city, he might not be able to get out again. The Registrar might be serving as a fire warden, or his office might have been bombed out of existence. If the island had to surrender, who would file any records, or trouble to take care of them? Surely there must be some point at which a state of emergency could be recognized, and the laws of God take precedence over those of men!

  So argued the free-lance American—anarchistic as most of them are. The fact that he, and the bride also, were foreigners, and were going to remove themselves from the territory at once, certainly seemed to provide a case about which the government would hardly need to concern itself. Also, the fact that both parties had been baptized into the Episcopal Church gave them a right to appeal to Mr. Notting. Lanny wasn’t making anything up when he said this, for he had been christened in the American church in Cannes—Emily Chattersworth had seen to it and become his godmother. He had about forgotten it, but didn’t mention this detail. Laurel had been brought up an Episcopalian, and was quite clearly the sort of person who belongs in that Church. Also, it was evident that she was in fear of the shooting that was going on simultaneously with this discussion; she had a right to be—and perhaps the clergyman was also. Anyhow, he gave way, and said that under the special circumstances he would unite this pair in the holy estate of matrimony and take his chances of being exculpated by his government.

  He put on his canonicals, and in this elegant drawing-room, which in a few hours was to be a smoke-blackened ruin, the couple took their stand before him. Althea and the members of the Chinese family constituted a congregation, respectful and much impressed. Mr. Foo had put on a ceremonial jacket of brocaded black silk over a blue gown, and his two wives also lent splendor to the occasion.

  In a voice somewhat larger than you would have expected from such a frail figure the white-robed priest addressed the mixed company:

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted of God Himself, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and His Church.”

  And so on, until he pronounced the terrifying invitation: “If any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace.” Lanny could imagine Althea Carroll standing up and saying: “This is a divorced man.” His heart skipped a beat or two during the pause; but she kept silence, now and thereafter for ever. Perhaps she too recognized that War creates emergencies, or perhaps she wouldn’t take the chance of having to travel through Southern China with a couple living in sin.

  The clergyman turned to Lanny—this was another case where gentlemen came first. “Wilt thou have this Woman to thy wedded wife, to live together according to God’s law in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour and keep her in sickness and in health? and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?” Lanny replied promptly that he would, and when the question was put to the lady, she said the same. Lanny pronounced his formula: “To have and to hold from this day forward; fox better, for worse, for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy law; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

  Then came Laurel’s turn; Althea “gave” her, and she said her little piece. Mr. Foo had produced a fine gold ring, his wedding gift. The ceremony was completed and they were man and wife, whom God had joined together and whom no man was going to put asunder. Lanny took the clergyman aside and put the proper envelope into his hand, and blue-clad servants came hurrying with hot brown rice wine, and cookies known as “phoenix and dragon.” Mr. Notting ate and drank quickly, for all through this service the guns had been banging and rattling, and they always seemed getting closer. No one could guess at what moment the enemy might burst into this compound. The clergyman shook hands quickly and hurried away, saying that he must get back to his wounded men.

  XII

  It lacked but two hours of darkness, and Mr. Foo reported: “Fog coming up. You may be lucky.” He reported also that the Tommies could be seen on a little ridge not far from the compound; they were digging themselves in for a stand. The trouble was, the Japs had a way of infiltrating as soon as darkness came; they might be sneaking up the gullies on this estate. They might take the compound as a defense point, or the Tommies might fall back upon it, in which case it would become a shell target. “More good you hide,” said the host; and they were willing.

  He led them outdoors, inside the compound. The buildings formed a complete wall about it, except for the entrance gate, and a small hole known as the Door of Compassion through which food was passed out to the poor. He took them to one of the buildings, which appeared to be a combination of toolhouse and storeroom. In one corner was a pile of sacks which might contain grain or charcoal. A servant followed the master, and the latter said: “This is Ho. Good man, long time I trust him. He take you to boat.” Now the trusted Ho dragged the sacks away, and there was a trapdoor which he lifted, disclosing a small black hole.

  “Not very nice,” said the master, “but safe. You stay two, maybe three hour, then boat come.”

  “Fine,” replied Lanny. “But what about your family? Don’t you want to hide them?”

  “Jap come, he find family gone, he make search, he find family sure. He mad, he act bad. More good whole family stay, give him wine, give him food, smile, look friendly, he maybe not bad. He say he want China friend, he make what he call Greater East Asia Co-prosperity Sphere. Everybody hate only white man.”

  That did not accord with what Lanny had read about the behavior of Japanese troops in Nanking, Canton, and other cities; but possibly they had now realized their mistake and would enforce discipline. Anyhow, it was no time for discussion, when at any moment troops of either side might be banging on that much-carved gate. Mr. Foo would go himself and open it, bow low, and hold out a bottle of wine in one hand and a plate of rice in the other, symbolical of friendship and submission.

  Meantime, he put into his male guest’s hands two objects which the guest had observed and wondered about. They were made of canvas, with canvas straps at their four corners; their shape was extraordinary, bulging in the center like a pillow and tapering to flatness at the ends. They looked to Lanny like enlargements of obje
cts he had picked up on the beach at Juan, and which the fisher-boys had said were shark’s eggs, though he didn’t know if that was true. The objects Mr. Foo gave him were soft, stuffed with cotton batting carefully quilted; when they were put into Lanny’s hands he discovered that they were heavier than he had expected.

  “These for ladies wear under dress,” explained the host; and his face wore a happy grin as he saw the bewilderment of the three. “Big part in front, straps behind. People see, think ladies pregnant.”

  “Glory hallelujah!” exclaimed the new bridegroom. He had heard of bustles, but never one to be worn over the belly.

  “Chinese man think have baby very honorable. He think you very rich man, important, you travel two wife. Both wife pregnant same time, he think you powerful man, great respect. Jap, too, he maybe don’t bother pregnant woman. Number One wife fix these for you.”

  “Pray, thank your Number One wife on behalf of both the ladies,” said Lanny, recovering his savoir-faire.

  “Plenty gold sovereigns sewed inside. You open little cut, take out one, two maybe, sew up again. About eight hundred American dollar. You don’t get gold in America, I hear.”

  “No, indeed; we have to turn it over to the government.”

  “You come China for freedom!” chuckled the old merchant.

  The servant Ho had carried two waterproof duffelbags, containing various necessities of the journey, collected by their host. Included were two ladies’ costumes in the Chinese style, loose jackets and what in America were called slacks. “More good for travel,” said he, “People think more proper. You keep extra clothes for getting wet. You got parasol for sun and rain.”

  “I don’t know how we can ever thank you, Mr. Foo!” exclaimed Laurel.

  “Some day we beat bad enemy, you come China, maybe I come New York. We have good time, we laugh, how you bride gone seven month pregnant in one hour. Now you go down quick, keep very still, no laugh, no talk. You fix self all ready. Boat come, you go quick; maybe monkey man near shore, nobody know.”