OCR Text |
Show THE LORD OF nm THUNDER GATE W SidLy W jf " CHAPTER X Continued. 13 "What Is your desire regarding this nmn? Until your honorable word Is received, we will keep this Hubert Wells" Wells grinned as he painted the characters, "In that condition which we found him." lie closed the letter briefly. "Should you express the wish that lie he returned to you, I will pray that the spirit of the Wind follow after ldui, quickening his flight." Sanderson listened to the Interpreter's Interpre-ter's llterul translation. It was not so clear to him ns Wells had Imagined. "What does It actually, mean?" he usked abruptly. "Letter say 'Man derd. ITave got body. You want?'" the Interpreter lisped. Then Sanderson knew that he had understood the flowery phrases, hut was hoping, hoping that there was a mistake he had always Insisted thnt Hob was alive, and would soon any where he was, and return to bis senses and come home. He bowed his head to the table, and sobs racked tdm. He made no pretense pre-tense of concenllng his emotions. Sanderson, San-derson, suddenly, looked older; his body seemed shriveled, the veins of Ids hands became more prominent. Alberta cried over It nlso, then said, very soberly, "We must all try to forget, for-get, dear. Perhaps It's better so." "You forget easily," Sanderson thought bitterly, but said nothing. And lie saw that the letter was Immediately Immediate-ly answered by a cable asking that the body be shipped at once, together with nny Information concerning Robert Wells how he had lived, and the man ner of his dying. With a touch of Intent affection tempered through knowi'edgenhat the return of the body would be distress-i distress-i Ing to them all, Alberta wished that It could have remained In Japan. Bob would have wanted thnt, she thought. Both of them found the answer from Kayama amazing. "Having other business In America, Bin bringing body and Information myself." my-self." the cable read. Wells was actually ready to depart. The household had been working feverishly fe-verishly for the voyage. He purposely purpose-ly omitted the name of the steamer, Intending to wire after he sailed. Thus Milllams was not Informed by Alberta, as he would have been, that what remained re-mained of Robert Wells was returning by the same steamer as he himself. CHAPTER XI Wells watched the klmonoed figure of Ellen In the pooled garden. He was unnble to avoid comparison with Alberta. She had been handsome, Alberta. Al-berta. He had thought her melting with love; she had been ciphering a Vrlce, hiding herself splderwise In a golden mesh. She had been as splen didly colored as a ripe nectarine, ns sumptuous ns a cat. Had she been as sly? Alberta Hayward had been a friend of Williams. A friend? Wells' eyes had a critical blink. The forenoon with Furnkawa the banker had droned on without Interruption. Inter-ruption. The figures were uninteresting. uninterest-ing. "It Is satisfactory," Wells said at last. "Send specie to your bank In America for me. For the care of the estate, I trust you." Furakawa contemplated the kakemono kake-mono of the Four Fishermen before replying. re-plying. "As you command. Kayama," he said slowly. "When will you return to Japan?" "In a day or a week or months, I do not know," Wells replied. Furakawa fingered the tassel which ended the cord that bound the zabu-ton. zabu-ton. "And If an accident befell yon, Kayama? We bankers must consider every contingency," he added apologetically. apolo-getically. "It Is a tradition In the house," Wells hnd read this. In going over ancient an-cient documents, "that should the , family be left without Issue, all land and mo,ey Is to be given to the state. Except sums for the older servants It Is all In the private papers, Furaka-wa-San. You could find It If necessary." neces-sary." "I will make many devotions that no misfortune overtake you. Lord," Furakawa said. Then, doubtfully, as If worried at the reception of the remark. re-mark. "Do you know, Kayama-San, that there are those who wish to see you?" "I hoped that the august missionaries mission-aries would depart, being made to wait c long. Yes, Furakawa, I know. When you are gone, I will rest a moment, mo-ment, and then permit them to speak with me." Furakawa understood. "I leave, Kayama-San. You have eteryllng: the tickets, the gold? I wish you a pleasant Journey." Wells settled back on the cushion In onttmt. He had taken the Jump. He was not afraid of the missionaries. He could follow their train of thought before be-fore It was uttered. He rather rejoiced re-joiced In the opportunity of this matching match-ing of wits. Where, he considered, had they been when the girl was In the temple? Now that she was safe, they came a-buzzing: would go us they came. The household sensed something of the Impending affair. As the man and two women were brought to his room. Wells could hear excited hissing In the corridor, like the wind shivering In the reeds. The angular woman stepped forward for-ward first. She was very composed, It was to be seen that she had thought out her line of action. "What Is your name, woman?" Wells said abruptly In English. "My name Is of no Importance. Our mission Is well known In Japan." Many ears were listening. Here was where the Lord of the Thunder Gate arose with his swords In his hands, Wells thought with a chuckle. "Your name," thundered Wells, "by the face of Jizo!" "Mabel Carey," she was surprised Into saying. "What do you want?" "My heart tells me that you are committing a sin In retaining this poor white girl." "Yoh !" said Wells, and puckered up his face. "How do you know?" "I can feel It, deep down In my heart." "It Is Insufficient proof," Wells said. "Now for the fat one. What do you want, little man?" The man had come under protest. He was he proclaimed to Miss Carey no orutor. He disliked his task. It "No," Ellen Said. "I Belong to Kayama-San He Bought Me." might antagonize the Japanese. It was dlstincly out of their line a Eurasian Eu-rasian girl, even If mission-educated. They did not even know if the girl were of the faith. Miss Carey had been adamant. "The girl," he said. "We will ask her to choose." Miss Carey shook off the fingers of her companion. "You will terrify her. Influence her. I know you. I've heard of you, you scalawag, you scapegoat you." "Words. Scalawag. Scapegoat. Ho! Silence, wag-tongue, goatface." As Ellen entered. Wells' yes became be-came bright, his color noticeably higher. She looked at him gravely for an instant; her eyelids fluttered under the scrutiny of the three. "Put your hand on your heart. How-does How-does it feel?" "It Jumps, Kayama-San." "Does It tell you that you are a sinner, sin-ner, child?" very paternally. "No." "Queer. It should burn your hand. If" . Miss Carey stepped to the girl's side. She oozed superiority and duty strangely blended. "If they take Ellen I'll be In a deuce of a fix," thought Wells. "They'd never in the world give her up again if I came back to Japan if I could even find her." He was half more than half of the decision to announce abruptly that this was his wife: that he had her and proposed keeping her. But he might wait a moment more before deciding. "Come, broken blossom," sniffed Miss Carey. She was proud of her Oriental phraseology. "Come, cry upon my bosom" she was of that vintage when bosoms were still spoken of "and we will go, far. far from this den of iniquity." "The ghi's good," Wells thought, saying aloud that his honorable house was not to be maligned. Ellen looked from the woman to Wells. Wells examined the matting with feigned Interest. The missionary took it for Indecision. " 'Forget the Idols, which will per lsh and be thrown to bats and moles,'" she quoted with unction. "You belong with us. Come. Rest your weary head. You belong with ui" "No," Ellen said. "I belong to Kayama-San. He bought me." Nor could she be moved from that position. In her room, she alternately was satisfied sat-isfied with and afraid of her decision. If her cheeks were hot with the Idea If Kayama were only not Kayama. He was so good. When she bd entered en-tered the room of the conference, she had seen in his eyes that which caused her own to droop. No, she had imagined imag-ined it. Wells was no nearer to his decision. He smoked pipe after pipe of silky tobacco, to-bacco, the tap-tap-tap of the emptied bowl sounding every two or three minutes min-utes ns the tiny contents were dropped Into the brazier of coals. He clapped his hands. "Bring me my wife," he said to HI-su, HI-su, the oldest maidservant. "She shall eat with me here." "You have forgotten?" "I am very tired, Hisu. My mind is occupied with gruve affairs. What Is It that I should remember?" "Ael! that you should forget! You saw It first with me, Kayama-San. Misako was with us. I was young then, but I dreamed of the day when you and your bride might see the Blossoming-of-the-Trees together, even as I did . . . the perfume In the air . . ." She smiled, heavy with remembrance. re-membrance. "I had forgotten, little mother. I am delighted that you have been my reminder. re-minder. Yes, I will go, I and my bride. Yes, I will go. Assuredly I will go. I have been awaiting It anxiously." He had never heard of It before. x "Good ! Excellent ! I knew It I I have told those whisperers it was for this you waited." "Waited V "Before ... it Is said ... I dare not repeat Idle gossip." "You are as my mother, Hisu. You should have no secrets from me." "Well do not be offended. Lord I cannot say It." " 'An unspoken thought Is dangerous.' danger-ous.' " "The new wife . . . her robes and sleeplng-qullts and head-rest . . . they are never in . . . your room . . . there ! you know. Idle gossip. I beat the maid who spoke of it." Wells was silent. "I knew, however, being of mature years, that you were waiting for the festival. I knew that your honorable father did likewise. I think that it was when he bought a maid ... I do not remember where from . . ." She seemed so earnest in this that Wells grinned. "That is It, Hisu," he agreed. "I was . . . waiting." He wondered if this might be a sign. "It is sad that I did not speak before," be-fore," she lamented. "All of the people peo-ple of the village will wonder that you did not bathe, as the lords do, at the village hot-spring" Wells shivered shiv-ered "but there Is no longer time. I will see that O-Hana is arrayed as is fitting . . . Ellen was quickly prepared: a new comb or so, a white underkimono, tab! of heavy, double-woven silk Instead of the usual cotton sock, an overklmono of dull color, but with countless star-studdings star-studdings of bright yellow flowers. She had no greeting for him, save the low obeisance, and did not speak until the servant had left. Then, with quick breath : "Have you . . . will you take me with you?" Very slowly: "Do you wish to go?" "1 am afraid, I fear. It is so quiet here. And I am learning Japanese so easily. ... I do not know what might happen in America " Nor did Wells. Here was a double sign. She wanted want-ed to stay ! Even, so he argued, even with the knowledge that he would return. re-turn. Wells was not to be blamed that his first ascertainable emotion after the long Indecision was one of wildest exultation at the prospect. Wisps of doubt did float across bis alluring picture, pic-ture, but he put them away at once. The vision of Ellen In the garden, of him touching her hair with his lips, bending over her, kissing her upturned face ... it was too much to resist. Fie never took his eyes off her. She would stay here caged. He wondered If one might prison such a gossamer thing; yet Chance had done it. Why not he? She would be the household goddess. In time celebrated In the annals an-nals of the family. He closed his eyes, yet hnd her full in vision all the time. "When you ore in America you might he able to discover If I have any one who Is related to me, and then 1 could go " Wells' eyes darkened. The wind blew differently now. "I have not decided. I will decide later." More quickly: "If you are ready, O-Hana, we shall leave the house. There is a great festival . . . and we are expected to go. It is displeasing dis-pleasing to me. I do not like such frothy affairs. But it is nevertheless necessary." "Is It displeasing because of . . . me? That you dislike my . . . being with you?" Thoughtfully, "I am much trouble to you. Kayama-San." (TO BE CONTINUED-) |