The Pointing Man Page 13

  XIII

  PUTS FORWARD THE FACT THAT A SUDDEN FRIENDSHIP NEED NOT BE BASED UPON ASUDDEN LIKING; AND PASSES THE NIGHT UNTIL DAWN REVEALS A SHAMEFUL SECRET

  Some ten days after Coryndon had taken up his quarters with Hartley, heinformed his host that he intended to disappear for a time, and that hewould take his servant, Shiraz, with him. He had been through everyquarter of Mangadone before he set out to commence operations, and thewhole town lay clear as a map in his mind.

  Hartley was dining out, "dining at the Wilders'," he said casually, andhe further informed Coryndon that Mrs. Wilder had asked him to bring hisfriend, but no amount of persuasion could induce Coryndon to forgo anevening by himself. He pointed out to Hartley that he never went intosociety, and that he found it a strain on his mind when he required tothink anything through, and, with a greater show of reluctance than hereally felt, Hartley conceded to his wish, and Coryndon sat down to asolitary meal. He ate very sparingly and drank plain soda water, andwhilst he sat at the table his long, yellow-white fingers played on thecloth, and his eyes followed the swaying punkah mat with an odd,intense light in their inscrutable depths.

  He had made Hartley understand that he never talked over a case, andthat he followed it out entirely according to his own ideas, and Hartleyhonestly respected his reserve, making no effort to break it.

  "When the hands are full, something falls to the ground and is lost,"Coryndon murmured to himself as he got up and went to his room."Shiraz," he called, "Shiraz," and the servant sprang like a shadow fromthe darkness in response to his master's summons.

  "To-night I go out." Coryndon waved his hand. "To-morrow I go out, andof the third day--I cannot tell. Let it be known to the servant peoplethat, like all travelling Sahibs, I wish to see the evil of the greatcity. I may return with the morning, but it may be that I shall belate."

  "_Inshallah, Huzoor_," murmured Shiraz, bowing his head, "what is thewill of the Master?"

  "A rich man is marked among his kind; where he goes the eyes of all menturn to follow his steps, but the poor man is as a grain of sand in thedust-storm of a Northern Province. Great are the blessings of the humbleand needy of the earth, for like the wind in its passing, they areinvisible to the eyes of men."

  Shiraz made no response; he lowered the green chicks outside the doorsand windows, and opened a small box, battered with age and wear.

  "The servant's box is permitted to remain in the room of the LordSahib," he said with a low chuckle. "When asked of my effrontery in thismatter, I reply that the Lord Sahib is ignorant, that he minds not thedignity of his condition, and behold, it is never touched, though theleathern box of the Master has been carefully searched by Babu, thebutler of Hartley Sahib, who knows all that lies folded therein."

  While he spoke he was busy unwrapping a collection of senah bundles,which he took out from beneath a roll of dusters and miscellaneousrubbish, carefully placed on the top. The box had no lock and was merelyfastened with a bit of thick string, tied into a series of cunningknots.

  When he had finished unpacking, he laid a faded strip ofbrightly-coloured cotton on the bed, in company with a soiled jacket anda tattered silk head-scarf, and, as Shiraz made these preparations,Coryndon, with the aid of a few pigments in a tin box, altered his facebeyond recognition. He wore his hair longer than that of the averageman, and, taking his hair-brushes, he brushed it back from his templesand tied a coarse hank of black hair to it, and knotted it at the backof his head. He dressed quickly, his slight, spare form wound round thehips with a cotton _loongyi_, and he pulled on the coat over a thin,ragged vest, and sat down, while Shiraz tied the handkerchief around hishead.

  The art of make-up is, in itself, simple enough, but the very much moresubtle art of expression is the gift of the very few. It was hard tobelieve that the slightly foreign-looking young man with Oriental eyescould be the pock-marked, poverty-stricken Burman who stood in hisplace.

  Slipping on a light overcoat, he pulled a large, soft hat over his head,and walked out quickly through the veranda.

  "Now, then, Shiraz," he called out in a quick, ill-tempered voice. "Comealong with the lamp. Hang it; you know what I mean, the _butti_. Theseinfernal garden-paths are alive with snakes."

  Shiraz hastened after him, cringing visibly, and swinging a hurricanelamp as he went. When they had got clear of the house and were near thegate, Coryndon spoke to him in a low voice.

  "Pull my boots off my feet." Shiraz did as he was bidden and slipped hismaster's feet into the leather sandals which he carried under his widebelt. "Now take the coat and hat, and in due time I shall return, thoughnot by day. Let it be known that to-morrow we take our journey of sevendays; and it may be that to-morrow we shall do so."

  "_Inshallah_," murmured Shiraz, and returned to the house.

  By night the streets of Mangadone were a sight that many legitimatetrippers had turned out to witness. The trams were crowded and thenative shops flared with light, for the night is cool and the day hotand stifling; therefore, by night a large proportion of the inhabitantsof Mangadone take their pleasure out of doors. In the Berlin Cafe thelittle tables were crowded with those strange anomalies, black men andwomen in European clothes. There had been a concert in the PresentationHall, and the audience nearly all reassembled at the Berlin Cafe forlight refreshments when the musical programme was concluded.

  Paradise Street was not behindhand in the matter of entertainment: therewas a wedding festival in progress, and, at the modest cafe, a thickconcourse of men talking and singing and enjoying life after their ownfashion; only the house of Mhtoon Pah, the curio dealer, was dark, andit was before this house, close to the figure of the pointing man, thatthe weedy-looking Burman who had come out of Hartley's compound stoppedfor a moment or two. He did not appear to find anything to keep himthere; the little man had nothing better to offer him than a closeddoor, and a closed door is a definite obstacle to anyone who is not ahousebreaker, or the owner with a key in his pocket; so, at least, theBurman seemed to think, for he passed on up the street towards the riverend.

  From there to the colonnade where the Chinese Quarter began was adistance of half a by-street, and Coryndon slid along, apologeticallyclose to the wall. He avoided the policeman in his blue coat and highkhaki turban, and his manner was generally inoffensive and harmless ashe sneaked into the low entrance of Leh Shin's lesser curio shop. Alarge coloured lantern hung outside the inner room, and a couple ofcandles did honour to the infuriated Joss who capered in colour on thewall.

  All the hidden vitality of the man seemed to live in every line of hislithe body as he looked in, but it subsided again as he entered, and hestared vacantly around him.

  There was no one in the shop but Leh Shin's assistant, who was finishinga meal of cold pork, and whose heavy shoulders worked with his jaws. Heceased both movements when Coryndon entered, and continued again as hespoke, the flap of his tweed hat shaking like elephants' ears. Heinformed Coryndon, who spoke to him in Yunnanese, that Leh Shin was out,so that if he had anything to sell, he would arrange the details of thebargain, and if he wanted to buy, he could leave the price of thearticle with the trusted assistant of Leh Shin.

  It took Coryndon some time to buy what he needed, which appeared to benothing more interesting than a couple of old boxes. The Burman neededthese to pack a few goods in, as he meditated inhabiting the empty,rat-infested house next door but one to the shop of Leh Shin. Uponhearing that they were to be neighbours, the assistant grew sulky andinformed Coryndon that trade was slack if he wished to sell anything,but his eyes grew crafty again when he was informed that his newacquaintance did not act for himself, but for a friend from Madras, whohaving made much money out of a Sahib, whose bearer he had been for someyears, desired to open business in a small way with sweets and grain andsuch-like trifles, whereby to gain an honest living.

  The assistant glanced at the clock, when, after much haggling, the dealwas concluded, and the Burman knotted the remainder of his money in asmall corner of his _loong
yi_, and stood rubbing his elbows, looking atthe Chinaman, who appeared restless.

  "Where shall I find Leh Shin?" The Burman put the question suddenly. "Inwhat house am I to seek him, assistant of the widower and thechildless?"

  The boy leered and jerked his thumb towards the direction of the river.

  "Closed to-night, follower of the Way," he said with a smothered noiselike a strangled laugh. "Closed to-night. Every door shut, every lighthidden, and those who go and demand the dreams cannot pass in. I, only,know the password, since my master receives high persons." He spat onthe floor.

  Coryndon bowed his head in passive subjection.

  "None else know my quantity," he murmured. "These thieves in the lesserstreets would mix me a poison and do me evil."

  The assistant scratched his head diligently and looked doubtfully at theBurman.

  "And yet I cannot remember thy face."

  "I have been away up the big river. I have travelled far to that Island,where I, with other innocent ones, suffered for no fault of mine."

  Leh Shin's assistant looked satisfied. If the Burman were but latelyreturned from the convict settlement on the Andaman Islands, it wasquite likely that he might not have been acquainted with him.

  To all appearances, the bargain being concluded, and Leh Shin beingabsent from the shop, there was nothing further to keep the customer,yet he made no sign of wishing to leave, and, after a little preamble,he invited the assistant to drink with him, since, he explained, heneeded company and had taken a fancy to the Chinese boy, who, in histurn, admitted to a liking for any man who was prepared to entertain himfree of expense. Leh Shin's assistant could not leave the shop foranother hour, so the Burman, who did not appear inclined to wait solong, went out swiftly, and came back with a bottle of native spirit.

  Fired by the fumes of the potent and burning alcohol, the Chinamanbecame inquisitive, and wished to hear the details of the crime forwhich his new friend had so wrongfully suffered. He looked so evil, sogreasy, and so utterly loathsome that he seemed to fascinate the Burman,who rocked himself about and moaned as he related the story of hiswrong. His words so excited the ghoulish interest of his listener thathis bloated body quivered as he drank in the details.

  "And so ends the tale of his great evil; he that was my friend," saidCoryndon, rising from his heels as he finished his story. "The hourgrows late and there is no comfort in the night, since I may not findoblivion." He passed his hand stupidly over his forehead. "My memory islost, flapping like an owl in the sunlight; once the road to the houseby the river lay before me as the lines upon my open palm, but now theway is no longer clear."

  "I have said that it is closed to-night, so none may enter. There is apassword, but I alone know it, and I may not tell it, friend of an evilman."

  "There are other nights," whined the Burman, "many of them in thepassing of a year. When I have the knowledge of thee, then may I seekand find later." He rubbed his knees with an indescribable gesture ofmean cringing.

  The Chinese boy drank from the bottle and smacked his lips.

  "Hear, then, thou convict," he said in a shrill hectoring voice. "By theway of Paradise Street, along the wharf and past the waste place wherethe tram-line ends and the houses stand far apart. Of the houses ofcommerce, I do not speak; of the mat houses where the Coringyhis live, Ido not speak, but beyond them, open below to the water-snakes, and builtabove into a secret place, is the house we know of, but Leh Shin is notthere for thee to-night, as I have already spoken."

  He felt in the pouch at his waist for a rank black cigar, which hepushed into his mouth and lighted with a sulphur match.

  "Who fries the mud fish when he may eat roast duck?" he said, with aharsh cackle that made the Burman start and stare at him.

  "_Aie! Aie!_ I do not understand thy words." The Burman's face grewblank and he went to the door.

  "Neither do you need to, son of a chained monkey," retorted the boy,full of strong liquor and arrogance. "But I tell thee, I and my mate,Leh Shin, hold more than money between the finger and the thumb,"--hepinched his forefinger against a mutilated thumb. "More than money,see, fool; thou understandest nothing, thy brain is left along with thychains in the Island which is known unto thee."

  "Sleep well," said the Burman. "Sleep well, child of the Heavens, Iunderstand thee not at all," and with a limp shrug of his shoulders, heslid out of the narrow door into the night.

  Coryndon gave one glance at the sky; the dawn was still far off, but inspite of this he ran up the deserted colonnade and walked quickly downParadise Street, which was still awake and would be awake for hours.Once clear of the lessening crowd and on to the wharf, he ran again;past the business houses, past the long quarter where the Coringyhis andcoolie-folk lived, and, lastly, with a slow, lurking step, to the closevicinity of a house standing alone upon high supports. He skirted roundit, but to all appearances it was closed and empty, and he sat downbehind a clump of rough elephant-grass and tucked his heels under him.

  His original idea, on coming out, had been merely to get into touch withLeh Shin, and make the way clear for his coming to the small, emptyhouse close to the shop of the ineffectual curio dealer, and now heknew, through his fine, sharp instinct, that he was close upon the trackof some mystery. It might have nothing to do with the disappearance ofthe Christian boy, Absalom, or it might be a thread from the hiddenloom, but, in any case, Coryndon determined to wait and see what wasgoing to happen. He was well used to long waiting, and the Orientalstrain in his blood made it a matter of no effort with him. Someone washidden in the lonely house, some man who paid heavily for the privacy ofthe waterside opium den, and Coryndon was determined to discover whothat man was.

  The night was fair and clear, and the murmur of the tidal river gentleand soothing, and as he sat, well hidden by the clump of grass, he wentover the events of the evening and thought of the face of Leh Shin'sassistant. Hartley had spoken of the bestial creature in tones ofdisgust, but Hartley had not seen him to the same peculiar advantage.Line by line, Coryndon committed the face to his indelible memory,looking at it again in the dark, and brooding over it as a lover broodsover the face of the woman he loves, but from very different motives. Hewas assured that no cruelty or wickedness that mortal brain couldimagine would be beyond the act of this man, if opportunity offered, andhe was attracted by the psychological interest offered to him in thestudy of such a mind.

  The ripples whispered below him, and, far away, he heard the chiming ofa distant clock striking a single note, but he did not stir; he sat likea shadow, his eyes on the house, that rose black, silent, and, to allappearances, deserted, against the starry darkness of the sky. He hadgot his facts clear, so far as they went, and his mind wandered out withthe wash of the water, and the mystery of the river flowed over him; thesilent causeway leading to the sea, carrying the living on its bosom,and bearing the dead beneath its brown, sucking flow, full of its ownlife, and eternally restless as the sea tides ebbed and flowed, yetmusical and wild and unchanged by the hand of man. Coryndon loved movingwaters, and he remembered that somewhere, miles away from Mangadone, hehad played along a river bank, little better than the small nativechildren who played there now, and he saw the green jungle-clearing, thered road, and the roof of his father's bungalow, and he fancied he couldhear the cry of the paddy-birds, and the voices of the water-men whocame and went through the long, eventless days.

  Even while he thought, he never moved his eyes from the house. Suddenlya light glimmered for a moment behind a window, and he sat forwardquickly, forgetting his dream, and becoming Coryndon the tracker in thetwinkling flash of a second. The inmates of the house were stirring atlast, and Coryndon lay flat behind his clump of grass and hardlybreathed.

  He could hear a door open softly, and, though it was too dark to discernanything, he knew that there was a man on the veranda, and that the manslipped down the staircase, where he stood for a moment and peeredabout. He moved quietly up the path and watched it for a few minutes,and then slid back into
the house again. Coryndon could hear whispersand a low, growled response, and then another figure appeared, a Sahibthis time, by his white clothes. He used no particular caution, and cameheavily down the staircase, that creaked under his weight, and took thetrack by which Coryndon had come.

  Silhouetted against the sky, Coryndon saw the head and neck of aChinaman, and he turned his eyes from the man on the path to watch thisoutline intently; it was thin, spare and vulture-like. Evidently LehShin was watching his departing guest with some anxiety, for he peeredand craned and leaned out until Coryndon cursed him from where he lay,not daring to move until he had gone.

  At last the silhouette was withdrawn and the Chinaman went back into thehouse. He had hardly done so when Coryndon was on his feet, runninghard. He ran lightly and gained the road just as the man he followedturned the corner by Wharf Street and plodded on steadily. In thedarkness of the night there are no shadows thrown, but this man had ashadow as faithful as the one he knew so well and that was his companionfrom sunrise to sunset, and close after him the poor, nameless Burmanfollowed step for step through the long path that ended at the house ofJoicey the Banker.

  Coryndon watched him go in, heard him curse the _Durwan_, and then heran once more, because the stars were growing pale and time wasprecious. He was weary and tired when he crept into the compound outsidethe sleeping bungalow on the hill-rise, and he stood at the gate andgave a low, clear cry, the cry of a waking bird, and a few minutesafterwards Coryndon followed Joicey's example and cursed the _Durwan_,kicking him as he lay snoring on his blanket.

  "Open the door, you swine," he said in the angry voice of a belatedreveller, "and don't wake the house with that noise."

  Even when he was in his room and delivered himself over to theministrations of Shiraz, he did not go to bed. He had something to thinkover. He knew that he had established the connection between Joicey theBanker and the spare, gaunt Chinaman who kept a shop for miscellaneouswares in the dark colonnade beyond Paradise Street. Joicey had a shortmemory: he had forgotten whether he had met the Rev. Francis Heath onthe night of the 29th of July, and had imagined that he was not there,that he was away from Mangadone; and as Coryndon dropped off to sleep,he felt entirely convinced that, if necessary, he could help Joicey'smemory very considerably.