Chinese -- England -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction
Hwei gnawed his long finger nails, and then slipped his hands
inside his long hanging sleeves. In his dull blue clothes with
the clumsy slippers, he looked taller than ever, and quite as
unpleasant as at first sight. His pig-tail was coiled round his
shaven head. He looked sharply at the two men with his one eye,
and appeared to be thinking, "It's my day," said he at length.
Ainsleigh and Burgh jumped up. "Do you intend to murder us?"
asked Rupert.
"If you have the fan," rejoined Hwei coldly, "it is the order of
the god Kwang-ho," and he bowed reverentially to the ugly image.
"What right's that second hand joss to give orders in a free
country, Hwei?" asked Clarence, "and don't you think, we'll give
in without laying you out."
Hwei made a clicking noise with his tongue and then smote a
small brass gong which hung near the door. The thunder had
scarcely died away before the door opened and there appeared
four or five villainous looking Chinamen with long knives.
Rupert stepped back and stood against the wall, with his
revolver levelled. But Clarence simply produced the knife, he
had picked up on the pavement. "I guess," he said reflectively,
"you tried to knife Ainsleigh outside. The knife here's the same
as those things yonder," and he nodded towards the door. "Well,
sail in. We're ready for the play."
Hwei started at this speech, and chattered something in Chinese.
At once the door closed and the three were again alone. "I never
ordered anyone to be knifed outside," he said, with his one eye
on Clarence, "that would be foolish. First the fan, then the
death."
"I was certainly attacked outside," said Rupert lowering his
revolver.
"Who attacked you, sir?"
"I can't say. But perhaps Burgh--"
"That's my business," said the cheerful Clarence who had taken
his seat, and did not seem to be at all afraid of the dangerous
position in which he found himself, "what we have to do, is to
yarn about this fan. I saw you in 'Frisco, Hwei. I reckoned the
fan was there."
"We thought so, Mr. Burgh, but it came to the ears of Lo-Keong
that it was in England. So then I came here."
"Ah, I saw you in China also," said Clarence.
"You did, and learned much about the fan--too much," growled
Hwei.
Rupert who was growing weary of all this hinted mystery sat down
again, and threw the revolver on the table. "I wish you would
make a clean breast of this," he said calmly. "I don't care
about the fan, but I do want to know who killed Miss Wharf."
"Major Tidman did."
"No. He was with me on the beach. I went out to smoke and we
strolled up and down till nearly twelve. He was with me shortly
after eleven, so he could not have killed the woman."
Hwei pointed a long finger at the young man. "I saw Major Tidman
speaking to a boatman on the beach--the boat came from the
Stormy Petrel--"
"Your boat," said Burgh quickly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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