The Pointing Man Page 15

  XV

  IN WHICH THE FURTHERING OF A STRANGE COMRADESHIP IS CONTINUED, AND ABEGGAR FROM AMRITZAR CRIES IN THE STREETS OF MANGADONE

  Trade was slack in the shop of Leh Shin, the Chinaman. He had sat in theodorous gloom and done little else than feel his arms and rub his legs,for the greater part of the day. His new acquaintance, Shiraz, had takenover possession of his goods, scrutinizing them with care before he didso, in case the brass pots had been exchanged in the night for inferiorpots of smaller circumference, and in the end he had departed into hisown rat-burrow, two doors up the street, where his friend the Burman wasalready established in a gloomy corner. Leh Shin heard of this throughhis assistant, who had followed the coolie into the house, andinvestigated the premises as he stood about, with offers of assistancefor his excuse.

  "They have naught with them, save only a box that has no lock upon it,and also the boxes bought from thy shop, Leh Shin, but these are empty,for I looked closely, when they talked in the hither room, where theyare minded to live. Jewels, didst thou say? Then that fox with the redbeard has sold them and the money is stored in some place of security."

  "Ah, ah," said the Chinaman, his eyes dull and fixed.

  "And 'ah, ah' to thee," retorted the assistant, who found the responselacking in interest. "I would I knew where it was hidden."

  With a sudden change of manner he squatted near the ear of Leh Shin andtalked in a soft whisper.

  "Is not the time ripe, O wise old man, is not the hour come when thoumayst go to the house of the white Sahib and demand a piece for closedlips?"

  He pursed up his small mouth and pointed at it.

  Leh Shin shook his head.

  "I am already paid, and I will not demand further, lest he, whom we knowof, come no more. Drive not the spent of strength; since the price issufficient, I may not demand more, lest I sin in so doing."

  The assistant glared at him with angry eyes.

  "Fool, and thrice fool," he muttered under his breath, but Leh Shin didnot heed him, and did not even appear to hear what he said. For a longtime the old Chinaman seemed wrapped in his thought, and at last he gotup, and leaving the shop, went towards the principal Joss House thatfaced the river.

  Coryndon had chosen the empty shop in the Colonnade for two reasons. Itwas near Leh Shin, and near the strange assistant, who interested himnearly as much as Leh Shin himself, and also it had the additionaladvantage of being the last house in the block. A narrow alley full ofrefuse of every description lay between it and the next block, and therickety house had doors that opened to the front, and to the side, andby way of a dark lane directly from the back, making ingress or egress amatter of wide choice.

  The shop front was shuttered, and left to the rats and cockroaches, andup a flight of decrepit and shaky stairs, Shiraz had made what shift hecould to provide comfort for his master in the least dilapidated room inthe house. The walls were thin, and the plaster of the low ceiling wassmoke-grimed and dirty. The "bed of lesser value" was stored away in thegarret that lay beyond, and the prayer-mat was placed alongside thetoil-worn wooden _charpoy_, that was at least fairly clean and had allfour legs intact; and under this bed, the box that held a strangeassortment of clothing was put safely away. At the bottom of anotherbox, one of those bought by Coryndon himself from Leh Sin's assistant,Shiraz had laid a suit of tussore silk, a few shirts and collars, andanything that his master might require if he wished to revisit those"glimpses of the moon" in the Cantonments; for Shiraz neglected nothing,and had a genius for detail.

  A hurricane lamp, that threw impartial light upon all sides, stood on around table, and lighted the small room, and at one corner Coryndon sat,clad in his Burmese _loongyi_ and white coat, thinking, his chin on hisfolded hands. He had taught himself to think without paper or pens, andto record his impressions with the same diligent care as though he wrotethem upon paper. He could command his thoughts, and direct them towardsone end and one issue, and he believed that notes were an abomination,and that, in his Service, memory was the only safe recorder of progress.

  He was fully aware that he was hunting what might well be a cold line,and he thought persistently of Leh Shin, putting the other possibleissues upon one side. Hartley had allowed himself to be dominated by apredisposition to account for everything through Heath, and Coryndonwarned himself against falling into the same snare with Leh Shin. Hethought of the Chinaman's shop, and he knew that it was built on thesame plan as his own dwelling. There was no basement, and hardly anyroom beyond the open ground-floor apartment and the two upper rooms.Nowhere, in fact, to conceal anything; and its thin walls could notcontain a single cry for help or prayer for mercy. It was possible tohave drugged the boy and smothered him as he lay unconscious, but unlessthe murderers had chosen this method, Absalom could not have met his endin the Chinaman's shop. There remained the house by the river toinvestigate, and there remained hours and days, and possibly weeks, ofclose watching, that might reveal some tiny clue, and for that Coryndonwas determined to wait and watch until it lay in the hollow of his palm.

  Acting the part of a man more or less astray in his wits, he wanderedout either late or early, with the vague, aimless step of a dreamer, andstood about, staring vacantly. Leh Shin's shop attracted him, and hewould squat on the ground either just outside the narrow entrance, orjust within, and, with flaccid, dropping mouth, stare at the hangingarray of secondhand clothes, making himself a source of endlessentertainment for the boy, who found him easy to annoy and distress, andconsequently practised upon him with unwearying pleasure.

  "Wise one, where are the jewels stolen by thy Master?" he asked,throwing the dregs of his drink over the Burman's bare feet.

  "Jewels, jewels? Nay, friend, jewels are for the rich; for the Raj andthe Prince; I have never seen one to hold in my hand and to considerclosely. As for the Punjabi, he is no master of mine. I did him aservice--nay, I have forgotten what the service was, as I forget allthings, save only the guilt of the evil man, once my friend."

  "Tell me once more thy story."

  The Burman cowered down and whimpered.

  "Since I put it into speech for thy ears, my trouble of mind has grown,like moonlight in the mist. I may not speak it again. They, yonder,would hear," he pointed at the clothes, that napped a little in the hot,heavy wind that came in strong with the scents and smells of the Bazaar.

  "Oh, oh," said the boy, with a crackling laugh. "I will tell them not tospeak or stir. I have power over them, and they shall repeat nothing.Tell me the story, fool, or I will drive thee from thy corner, and thechildren shall throw mud upon thee in the streets."

  Again and again the drama was repeated, and as Coryndon became part ofthe day's amusement to Leh Shin's assistant, he grew to know exactlywhat both the boy and his master did during the hours of the day.Unknown and unsuspected, the Burman went in and out as they went in andout. He appeared at the house by the river, he sat with his legsdangling over the drop from the Colonnade into the streets, and he woreout the hours in idleness, the dust of the Bazaar powdering his hair andgriming his face, but behind his vacant eyes, his quick brain was aliveand burning, and he felt after Leh Shin with invisible hands.

  Coryndon was never at the mercy of one idea only, and he began to see,very soon after he had investigated the two houses--the ramshackle shopand the riverside den--that if he intended to progress he could notafford to sit in the street and drink in the cafe opposite Leh Shin'sdwelling for an interminable space of weeks. He had limitless patience,but he was quick of action, and saw any flaw in his own system as soonas a flaw appeared. Leh Shin was suspicious, and took precautions whenhe went out at night, and this in itself made it dangerous to becontinually upon his heels in a character he knew and could recognize.So long as there was anything to gain by remaining in his Burmeseclothing, Coryndon used it, avoiding the Chinaman and cultivating thesociety of his assistant, but he soon began to realize that if he wereto follow as closely as he desired, he could not do so in his presentdisguise.

&nb
sp; All day he sat watching the crowded street, shivering, though the sunwas warm, and breaking his silence with complaints that the fever wasupon him, and that he was sick, and that he could not eat. He whimperedand whined so persistently that the assistant drove him off, for hefeared infection, and fancied he might be sickening for the plague.

  "Neither come thou hither, until thou art fully recovered," he added,"lest I use my force upon thee."

  If a certain beggar who had sat for a whole month outside the GoldenTemple at Amritzar was to become reincarnated in the person of the idiotBurman, the Burman must have a reason to offer to the inquisitive forhis temporary absence. Sickness is sudden and active in the streets ofany Bazaar, and when Shiraz learnt that he was to keep within the houseand report the various stages of the fever of his friend, he salaamedand drew out the battered box from under the bed, and folded away the_loongyi_ and coat with care.

  Coryndon explained his plan of coming and going when the streets weresilent, and when he could do so without being noticed. If he came in thedaytime and asked for alms, Shiraz was to open and call him in toreceive food, but he would only do this in great emergency, as thebeggar did not wish to establish any connection with the Punjabi. If, onthe other hand, it was a matter of necessity for the Burman to reappear,Shiraz was to walk along the street and bestow alms in the beggar'sbowl; and on the first opportunity Coryndon would return and make thenecessary change. The first difficulty was to get out of the house, andto be in the street by twilight, when the close operation of watchingwould have to begin.

  "The doors of the merciful are ever open to the poor; yet there is greatdanger in going out by the way of the Bazaar."

  "There is a closed door at the back that I have well prepared," saidCoryndon, pulling a bit of sacking over his bent shoulders. "Rememberthat an oiled hinge opens like the mouth of a wise man."

  The addition of one to the brotherhood of vagrancy that is part of everyEastern Bazaar calls the attention of no one, and being a newcomer,Coryndon contented himself with accepting a pitch in a district wherealms were difficult to obtain and small in value, but his humility didnot keep him there long, and he made a place for himself at the top ofParadise Street, in the shadow of an arched doorway, where a house withcarved shutters and horseshoe windows was slowly mouldering through thefirst stages of decay. From here he could see down the Colonnade, andalso watch the shop of Mhtoon Pah, as he alternately cursed or blessedthe passers, according to their gifts or their apathy.

  The heavy, slouching figure of the assistant went by to take up hismaster's place in the waterside house, and the beggar wasted no time inglancing after him. He knew his destination, and had no need to troubleabout the ungainly, walloping creature, who kicked him as he passed. Itwas fresh, out in the street, and pleasant, and in spite of his mustyrags and his hidden face, Coryndon enjoyed the change of occupation.

  He saw the place much as it had been on the evening of July the 29th.Mhtoon Pah came out and sat on his chair, smoking a cheroot, andobserving the street. In a good humour it would appear, for when thebeggar cringed past and sent up his plea for assistance, the curiodealer felt in his pouched waist-sash and threw him a coin.

  "Be it requited to thee in thy next life, O Shrine-builder," murmuredthe beggar, and he squatted down on the ground a little further on.

  He saw Shiraz come out and stand at the door, preparatory to settingforth to the Mosque. Saw him lock it carefully and proceed slowly andwith great dignity through the crowd. He passed close to the beggar, buttook no notice of him, lifting his garments lest they should touch him,and for this the beggar cursed him, to the entertainment of those wholistened.

  Blue shadows like wraiths of smoke enfolded the street at the far end,and the clatter and noise grew stronger as the houses filled after theday of toil. In one of the prosperous dwellings a gramophone was setnear the window, and the song floated out over the street, themusic-hall chorus from the merchant's house mingled in with the cry ofvendors hawking late wares at cheap prices.

  A hundred years ago, except for the gramophone and an occasional_gharry_, the street might have been the same. The same amber light thatheld only a short while after sunset, the same blue misty shadows, thesame concourse of colour and caste, the same talk of food, and the sameidle, loitering and inquisitive crowd.

  Coryndon watched it with eyes of love. Half of his nature belonged tothis place and was part of it. He understood their idleness, their smallpleasures, their kindness and their cruelty; and though the dominance ofthe white race was strongest in him, he loved these half-brothers of hisbecause he understood them.

  Two young _Hypongyi_ came past where he sat, and as they had nothingelse to give, gave him their blessing and a look of pity.

  "He did ill in his former life," said the elder of the two. "The balanceis adjusted thus, and only thus."

  "Great is the justice of the Law," replied the other, rubbing his shavencrown reflectively, and then some noise of music or laughter attractedthem and they ran up the street to see what it might be, for they wereyoung, and there was no reason why they should not enjoy simplepleasures.

  Coryndon knew that Leh Shin would certainly go to the Joss House thatnight, and he knew that upon these occasions the Chinaman prayed long,and that it would be dark before he entered the place of worship. Foranother hour his time was free to watch the street, and withoutattaching any particular consequence to the fact, he saw Mhtoon Pah getup, rub his hands on his knees and lift his chair inside the door, whichhe closed with a noise of dragging chains and creaking bolts.

  Slowly the last gleam withdrew, and the dust lost its effect of amber,and the trees grew dark, and little whispering winds clapped the palmleaves one on another with a dry, barking sound. Children still screamedand played, and dogs yelped and offered to show fight, and still peopleon foot came and went, and the dusk drew down a veil and the greaternoise subsided into a lower key.

  The beggar was no longer there, his place was empty and he had gone.