Kai Lung’s Golden Hours - Ernest Bramah (the reading strategies book .TXT) 📗

Presently a movement in the trees without betrayed a presence, and the storyteller was on the point of disclosing himself at the shutter when the approaching one displayed an unfamiliar outline. Instead of a maiden of exceptional symmetry and peach-like charm an elderly and deformed hag drew near. As she might be hostile to his cause, Kai Lung deemed it prudent to remain concealed; but in case she should prove to be an emissary from Hwa-mei seeking him, his purpose was to stand revealed. To combine these two attitudes until she should declare herself was by no means an easy task, but she looked neither near nor far in scrutiny until she stood, mumbling and infirm, beneath the shutter.

“It is well, minstrel,” she called aloud. “She whom you await bid me greet you with a sign.” At Kai Lung’s feet there fell a crimson flower, growing on a thorny stem. “What word shall I in turn bear back? Speak freely, for her mind is as my open hand.”

“Tell me rather,” said Kai Lung, looking out, “how she fares and what averts her footsteps?”

“That will appear in due time,” replied the aged one. “In the meanwhile I have her message to declare. Three times foiled in his malignant scheme the now obscene Ming-shu sets all the Axioms at naught. Distrusting you and those about your path, it is his sinister intention to call up for judgment Kai-moo, who lies within the women’s cell beyond the Water Way.”

“What is her crime and how will this avail him?”

“Charged with the murder of her man by means of the supple splinter her condemnation is assured. The penalty is piecemeal slicing, and in it are involved those of her direct line, in the humane effort to eradicate so treacherous a strain.”

“That is but just,” agreed Kai Lung.

“Truly. But on the slender ligament of a kindred name you will be joined with her in that end. Ming-shu will see to it that records of your kinship are not lacking. Being accused of no crime on your own behalf there will be nothing for you to appear against.”

“It is written: ‘Even leprosy may be cured, but the enmity of an official underling can never be dispelled,’ and the malice of the persistent Ming-shu certainly points to the wisdom of the verse. Is the person of Kai-moo known to you, and where is the prison-house you speak of?”

To this the venerable creature replied that the cell in question was in a distant quarter of the city. Kai-moo, she continued, might be regarded as fashioned like herself, being deformed in shape and repellent in appearance. Furthermore, she was of deficient understanding, these things aiding Ming-shu’s plan, as she would be difficult to reach and impossible to instruct when reached.

“The extremity is almost hopeless enough to be left to the ever-protecting spirits of one’s all-powerful Ancestors,” declared Kai Lung at length. “Did she from whom you come forecast any confidence?”

“She had some assurance in a certain plan, which it is my message to declare to you.”

“Her wisdom is to be computed neither by a rule nor by a measure. Say on.”

“The keeper of the women’s prison-house lies within her hollowed hand, nor will silver be wanting to still any arising doubt. Wrapped in prison garb, and with her face disguised by art, she whose word I bear will come forth at the appointed call and, taking her place before Shan Tien, will play a fictitious part.”

“Alas! dotard,” interrupted Kai Lung impatiently, “it would be well if I spent my few remaining hours in kowtowing to the Powers whom I shall shortly meet. An aged and unsightly hag! Know you not, O venerable bat, that the smooth perfection of the one you serve would shine dazzling through a beaten mask of tempered steel? Her matchless hair, glossier than a starling’s wing, floats like an autumn cloud. Her eyes strike fire from damp clay, or make the touch of velvet harsh and stubborn, according to her several moods. Peach-bloom held against her cheek withers incapably by comparison. Her feet, if indeed she has such commonplace attributes at all, are smaller⁠—”

“Yet,” interrupted the hag, in a changed and quite melodious voice, “if it is possible to delude the imagination of one whose longing eyes dwell so constantly on these threadbare charms, what then will be the position of the obtuse Ming-shu and the superficial Mandarin Shan Tien, burdened as they now are by outside cares?”

“There are times when the classical perfection of our graceful tongue is strangely inadequate to express emotion,” confessed Kai Lung, colouring deeply, as Hwa-mei stood revealed before him. “It is truly said: ‘The ingenuity of a guileless woman will undermine nine mountains.’ You have cut off all the words of my misgivings.”

“To that end have I wrought, for in this I also need your skill. Listen well and think deeply as I speak. Everywhere the outcome of the strife grows more uncertain day by day and no man really knows which side to favour yet. In this emergency each plays a double part. While visibly loyal to the Imperial cause, the Mandarin Shan Tien fans the whisper that in secret he upholds the rebellious banners. Ming-shu now openly avers that if this and that are thus and thus the rising has justice in its ranks, while at the same time he has it put abroad that this is but a cloak the better to serve the state. Thus every man maintains a double face in the hope that if the one side fails the other will preserve him, and as a band all pledge to save (or if need be to betray) each other.”

“This is the more readily understood as it is the common case on every like occasion.”

“Then doubtless there are instances waiting on your lips. Teach me such a story whereby the hope of those who are thus swayed may be engaged and leave the rest to my arranging hand.”

On the following day at the appointed hour