The Mirror of Kong Ho, Ernest Bramah [popular e readers .txt] 📗

that I’ve known him long; in fact I only met him half an hour ago. But I have the fullest confidence in his integrity.”

“It’s just as I expected. Well, sir, you’re good-natured enough for anything, but if you’ll excuse me, I must say that you’re a small piece of an earthenware vessel after all”—the veiled allusion doubtlessly being that the vessel of necessity being broken, the contents inevitably escape—“and I hope you’re not being had.”

“I’m not, and I’ll prove it before we go out together,” retorted the engaging one, who had in the meantime become so actively impetuous on my account, that he did not remain content with the spoken words, but threw the various belongings about as he mentioned them in a really profuse display of inimitable vehemence. “Here, Kong, take this hyer pocket-book whatever he says. Now on the top of that take everything I’ve got, and you know what THAT figures up to. Now give this gentleman your little lot to keep him quiet; I don’t ask for anything. Now, stranger, I’m ready. You and I will take a stroll round the block and back again, and if Mr. Kong isn’t waiting here for us when we return with everything intact and O.K., I’ll double your deposit and never trust a durned soul again.”

Nodding genially over his shoulder with a harmonious understanding, expressive of the fact that we were embarking upon an undeniably diverting episode, the benevolent-souled person who had accumulated more riches than he was competent to melt away himself, passed out, urging the doubtful and still protesting one before him.

Thus abandoned to my own reflections, I pondered for a short time profitably on the third head of the day’s meditation (Touching the match and this person’s unattractively-lined face. The revealed truth: the inexperienced sheep cannot pass through the hedge without leaving portions of his wool), and then finding the philosophy of Wei Chung very good, I determined to remove the superfluous apprehensions of the vender of food-stuffs with less delay by setting out and meeting them on their return.

A few paces distant from the door, one of the ever-present watchers of the street was standing, watching the street with unremitting vigilance, while from the well-guarded expression of his face it might nevertheless be gathered that he stood as though in expectation.

“Prosperity,” I said, with seasonable greeting. (For no excess of consideration is too great to be lavished upon these, who unite within themselves the courage of a high warrior, the expertness of a three-handed magician, and the courtesy of a genial mandarin.) “I seek two, apparelled thus and thus. Did you, by any chance, mark the direction of their footsteps?”

“Oh,” he said, regarding this person with a most flattering application, “YOU seek them, do you? Well, they’ve just gone off in a hansom, and they’ll want a lot of seeking for the next week or two. You let them carry your purse, perhaps?”

“Assuredly,” I replied. “As a mark of confidence; this person, for his part, receiving a like token at their hands.”

“That’s it,” said the official watcher, conveying into his voice a subtle indication that he had become excessively fatigued. “It’s like a nursery tale—never too old to take with the kids. Well, come along, poor lamb, the station isn’t far.”

So great had become the reliance which by this time I habitually reposed in these men, that I never sought to oppose their pronouncements (such a course being not only useless but undignified), and we therefore together reached the place which the one by my side had described as a station.

From the outside the building was in no way imposing, but upon reaching an inner dungeon it at once became plain that no matter with what crime a person might be charged, even the most stubborn resistance would be unavailing. Before a fiercely-burning fire were arranged metal pincers, massive skewers, ornamental branding irons, and the usual accessories of the grill, one tool being already thrust into the heart of the flame to indicate the nature of its use, and its immediate readiness for the purpose. Pegs from which the accused could be hung by the thumbs with weights attached to the feet, covered an entire wall; chains, shackling-irons, fetters, steel rings for compressing the throat, and belts for tightening the chest, all had their appointed places, while the Chair, the Boot, the Heavy Hat, and many other appliances quite unknown to our system of administering justice were scattered about.

Without pausing to select any of these, the one who led me approached a raised desk at which was seated a less warlike official, whose sympathetic appearance inspired confidence. “Kong Ho,” exclaimed to himself the person who is inscribing these words, “here is an individual into whose discriminating ear it would be well to pour the exact happening without evasion. Then even if the accusation against you be that of resembling another or trafficking with unlawful Forces, he will doubtless arrange the matter so that the expiation shall be as light and inexpensive as possible.”

By this time certain other officials had drawn near. “What is it?” I heard one demand, and another replied, “Brooklyn Ben and Jimmie the Butterman again. Ah, they aren’t artful, are they!” but at this moment the two into whose power I had chiefly fallen having conversed together, I was commanded to advance towards them and reveal my name.

“Kong,” I replied freely; and I had formed a design to explain somewhat of the many illustrious ancestors of the House, when the one at the desk, pausing to inscribe my answer in a book, spoke out.

“Kong?” he said. “Is that the christian or surname?”

“Sir-name?” replied this person between two thoughts. “Undoubtedly the one before you is entitled by public examination to the degree ‘Recognised Talent,’ which may, as a meritorious distinction, be held equal to your title of a warrior clad in armour. Yet, if it is so held, that would rightly be this person’s official name of Paik.”

“Oh, it would, would it?” said the one seated upon the high chair. “That’s quite clear. Are there any other names as well?”

“Assuredly,” I explained, pained inwardly that one of official rank should so slightly esteem my appearance as to judge that I was so meagrely endowed. “The milk name of Ho; Tsin upon entering the Classes; as a Great Name Cheng; another style in Quank; the official title already expressed, and T’chun, Li, Yuen and Nung as the various emergencies of life arise.”

“Thank you,” said the high-chair official courteously. “Now, just the name in full, please, without any velvet trimmings.”

“Kong,” began this person, desirous above all things of putting the matter competently, yet secretly perturbed as to what might be considered superfluous and what deemed a perfidious suppression, “Ho Tsin Cheng Quank—”

“Hold hard,” cried this same one, restraining me with an uplifted pen. “Did you say ‘Quack’?”

“Quack?” repeated this person, beginning to become involved within himself, and not grasping the detail in the right position. “In a manner of setting the expression forth—”

“Put him down, ‘Quack Duck,’ sir,” exclaimed one of dog-like dejection who stood by. “Most of these Lascars haven’t got any real names—they just go by what any one happens to call them at the time, like ‘Burmese Ike’ down at the Mint,” and this person unfortunately chancing to smile and bow acquiescently at that moment (not with any set intention, but as a general principle of courteous urbanity), in place of his really distinguished titles he will henceforth appear among the historical records of this dynasty under what he cannot disguise from his inner misgivings to be the low-caste appellation of Quack Duck.

“Now the address, please,” continued the high one, again preparing to inscribe the word, and being determined that by no mischance should this particular be offensively reported, I unhesitatingly replied, “Beneath the Sign of the Lead Tortoise, on the northern course from the Lotus Pools outside the walls of Yuen-ping.”

This answer the one with the book did not immediately record. “I don’t say it isn’t all right when you know the parts,” he remarked broad-mindedly, “but it does sound a trifle irregular. Can’t you give it a number and a street?”

“I fancy it must be a pub, sir,” observed another. “He said that it had a sign—the Red Tortoise.”

“Well, haven’t you got a London address?” said the high one, and this person being able to supply a street and a number as desired, this part of the undertaking was disposed of, to his cordial satisfaction.

“Now let me see the articles which these men left with you,” commanded the chieftain of the band, and without any misleading discrepancies I at once drew forth from an inner sleeve the two scrips, of which adequate mention has already been made, another hitherto undescribed, two instruments for measuring the passing hours of the day, together with a chain of fine gold ingeniously wrought into the semblance of a cable, an ornament for the breast, set about with a jewel, two neck-cloths of a kind usually carried in the pocket, a book for recording happenings of any moment, pieces of money to the value of about eleven taels, a silver flagon, a sheathed weapon and a few lesser objects of insignificant value. These various details I laid obsequiously before the one who had commanded it, while the others stood around either in explicit silence or speaking softly beneath their breath.

“Do I understand that the two persons left all these things with you, while they took your purse in exchange?” said the high official, after examining certain obscure signs upon the metals, the contents of the third scrip, and the like.

“It cannot reasonably be denied,” I replied; “inasmuch as they departed without them.”

“Spontaneously?” he demanded, and in spite of the unevadible severity of his voice the expression of his nearer eye deviated somewhat.

“The spoken and conclusive word of the first was that it was his intention to commit to this one’s keeping everything which he had; the assertion of the second being that with this scrip I received all that he possessed.”

“While of yours, what did they get, Mr. Quack?” and the tone of the one who spoke had a much more gratifying modulation than before, while the attitudes of those who stood around had favourably changed, until they now conveyed a message of deliberate esteem.

“A serpent-skin case of two enclosures,” I replied. “On the one side was a handcount of the small copper-pieces of this Island, which I had caused to be burnished and gilt for the purpose of taking back to amuse those of Yuen-ping. On the other side were two or three pages from a gravity-removing printed leaf entitled ‘Bits of Tits,’ with which this person weekly instructs himself in the simpler rudiments of the language. For the rest the case was controlled by a hidden spring, and inscribed about with a charm against loss, consumption by fire, or being secretly acquired by the unworthy.”

“I don’t think you stand in much need of that charm, Mr. Quack,” remarked another of more than ordinary rank, who was also present. “Then they really got practically no money from you?”

“By no means,” I admitted. “It was never literally stipulated, and whatever of wealth he possesses this person carries in a concealed spot beneath his waistbelt.” (For even to these, virtuous sire, I did not deem it expedient to reveal the fact that in reality it is hidden within the sole of my left sandal.)

“I congratulate you,” he said with lavish refinement. “Ben and the Butterman can be very bland and persuasive. Could you tell me, as a matter of professional curiosity, what first put you on your guard?”

“In this person’s country,” I replied, “there is an apt saying, ‘The sagacious bird does not build his nest twice in the empty soup-toureen,’ and by observing closely what has gone before one may accurately conjecture much that will follow after.” It may be, that out of my insufferable shortcomings of style and expression, this answer did not convey to his mind the logical sequence of the warning; yet it would have been more difficult to show him how everything arose from the faultlessly-balanced system of the heroic Wei Chung, or the exact parallel lying between the ill-clad outcast who demanded a portion of tobacco and the cheerfully unassuming stranger who had in his possession a larger accumulation of money than he could conveniently disperse.

In such a manner I took leave of the station and those connected with it, after directing that the share of the spoil which fell by the law of this Island to my lot should be sold and the money of exchange faithfully divided among the virtuous and necessitous of both sexes. The higher officials each waved me pleasantly by the hand, according to the striking and picturesque custom of the land, while the lesser ones stood around and spoke flattering words as I departed, as “honourable,” “a small piece of all-right,” “astute ancient