Mr. de Costa, senior, sat in his study until late that night. His son had gone to a musical comedy to the relief of his mind and the repair of a crushed spirit, and Mr. de Costa was alone in the house save one man-servant--a half-caste factotum, who was neither butler nor errand-boy nor valet, and yet performed the functions of each.
At nine o’clock a man came to the house and was admitted through the servants’ entrance. He was shown at once to the study.
De Costa looked over his glasses at the visitor and pointed to a chair.
“Sit down, Soo,” he said, and the Chinaman, with a jerk and wriggle intended to display his respect for superiority, and his reluctance to seat himself in the presence of greatness, obeyed.
He was above medium height, and pallid even for a Chinaman. His high cheekbones and thin, straight lips, gave him sinister appearance, yet he was by no means bad-looking, for the nose was straight and well proportioned to the face. He wore no queue, and his black hair was brushed back in the style affected by the youth of England. His eyes were larger than the average, set about in a void face--void of emotion, of the expression and capacity for feeling.
Whatever humility convention may have dictated on his arrival, he had no false views on the question of his equality for the man who sat at the desk, for he leant over, lifted the lid of a silver box, and extracted a cigarette.
“Well,” asked Mr. de Costa, blotting a letter he had written, “what is the news?”
The man he called Soo shook his head as he applied a light to the cigarette.
“I come to you for news,” he said. “In my humble circle we talk of nothing more interesting than the surprising results which follow a game of Fan-tan.”
“Where did you pick up your English?” asked De Costa irritably. It is never pleasant to know that one whom in your heart you grade below your own intellectual level is your superior in scholastic attainments.
“I picked it up in the place where one acquires much enlightenment,” said Soo carelessly.
He blew a ring of smoke towards the ceiling, and watched it disappear.
“You wouldn’t imagine,” said he, “that I was intended for the ministry; yet that is the fact. There were good people who thought I would make an ideal missionary, and by the force of my personality and the knowledge of my own people, wean them from the traditions and the philosophies of two thousand years to the half-hearted philosophies, imperfectly understood and imperfectly promulgated in twenty different ways by the intelligent people of this country.”
De Costa said nothing. He was too wily a man to be drawn into a discussion on a subject with which he was not too well acquainted.
Soo had an irritating trick of getting him out of his depths.
“I understand you’ve got the bracelet,” said the Chinaman, and the other acknowledged the possession.
He unlocked the drawer of his desk, and took out a steel box. From this he extracted the bangle which Talham had handed to his son.
It was still in its paper wrapping, and Soo paused awhile before he removed the tissue.
“It is very light for jade,” he said suspiciously.
He threw the end of his cigarette into the fireplace with a quick movement of his hand, and stripped the ornament of its wrapper.
He looked at it carefully, twisting the bangle about in his hand.
“This is not jade,” he said.
“Not jade,” repeated the merchant, and half rose from his chair. “Are you sure?”
“This is celluloid,” said the calm Soo, “cleverly copied and possibly weighted to give it the appearance of jade.”
He balanced it carefully on his hand; then he examined the gold bands.
“Yes, as I thought,” he said, “the weight is in the gold.”
He inspected the inscriptions and read them carefully. Half obliterated as they were, it was no easy task to decipher them by artificial light. Then he put the bangle upon the table.
“Your friend has deceived you,” he said quietly. “This is not the famous Shu Shun bracelet. It is not even an imitation. These writings”--he tapped the bangle with his fingers--“are commonplace copybook maxims, as you would call them in this country.”
He picked up the ornament again, and read: “An ungrateful son is a disappointed father.” “The father of patience is wisdom, and the source of peace is love.”
“You have been fooled, my friend!” he said.
De Costa sprang to his feet.
“Explain what you mean,” he said.
The Chinaman was lighting another cigarette.
“It is very simple.” He looked abstractedly at the ceiling, and spoke half to himself: “The girl had the original bracelet, and has returned this. Either she, or one of her friends, has the bangle; and it is our business to get it. Without that”--he lowered his voice--“everything that happened yesterday was in vain.”
“Don’t talk about yesterday,” said De Costa hurriedly. “That is a subject which I never wish to discuss; you don’t know how I’m feeling about it, Soo. I never wanted anybody hurt, I swear I didn’t.”
The Chinaman interrupted him with a slow smile.
“These things are not done by politeness,” he said. “You are going into a big enterprise, and you must take a correspondingly big risk.”
“I take no risks,” said De Costa, white of face. “I know nothing whatever about it. Two deaths! My God, they couldn’t----”
Soo nodded.
“They could indeed,” he said easily. “If anybody hangs for what happened last night, be sure that you hang with them. You have gone into this matter, De Costa, with your eyes open. You saw a chance of obtaining an enormous treasure, and you took all risk. You Westerners,” he went on, “place too high a value upon human life.”
He half rose from his chair, leant across to the desk, and picked up the bangle again, examining it with an amused smile. Then, as he replaced it upon the table, he said grimly: “The events of yesterday about which you do not wish to speak, would have been wholly unnecessary had I known in time that this bangle existed.”
“But surely,” began De Costa, “the paper you found----”
Soo shook his head. He was calmness itself. “I have no papers,” he said simply.
De Costa stared at him.
“No papers! What do you mean?”
“I mean exactly what I say,” said the other. He marked the situation upon the outstretched fingers of his hand. “Three men were sent to secure an envelope from the Chinese Ambassador’s bureau, and one of them was killed. Two made their escape with the papers concerning the matter. I have not seen them since.”
“Gone?” said De Costa.
“Gone!” repeated the other. “There is another influence at work. I am inclined to associate an old acquaintance of mine--Captain Talham. You probably know him!”
De Costa nodded.
“He is interested in this matter of Mount Li. So firm was my conviction that he was behind the treachery of my two men, that I took the liberty of preparing a little surprise for him last night. Unfortunately,” he said with regret, “it did not materialise. But to-night--who knows?”
He rose abruptly, and buttoned his overcoat, turning up the collar about his neck.
“I must go now,” he said. “There is a lot of work to be done before to-morrow morning.”
“What work?” asked De Costa.
“I am going to recover the bracelet,” said Soo, and there was that in his eyes which made the older man quail.
“There will be no violence?” he stammered.
“None, I assure you,” said the other airily.
“Remember,” said De Costa almost tremulously, “that it is a woman you have to deal with.”
“I have dealt with many women,” said Soo, “and I find very little difference between the sexes save that the gentler is a trifle more courageous, and a little more willing to bear the consequences of their folly.”
De Costa accompanied him into the regions of the kitchen and showed him to the door which led to the area. Not another word was spoken between the two men.
De Costa closed the door behind his visitor and bolted it securely. He went back to his study and drained off a glass of neat brandy.
He went to bed that night in no happy frame of mind.
He might have been less happy, as he lay tossing from side to side in his bed, had he seen the dark figure of a man stealing in the shadow of the wall which formed a tiny courtyard at the back of his house.
