UNIT. OF CALIF. UBRAHY. T.OS
 
 1 Jim look up I
 
 In Red and Gold 
 
 Bv SAMUEL MERWIN 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 "The Passionate Pilgrim," "Hills of Han."- 
 
 FRONTISPIECE BY 
 CYRUS LEROY BALDRIDGE 
 
 A. L. BURT COMPANY 
 
 Publishers New York 
 
 Published by arrangement with The Bobbs-Merrill Company
 
 COPYRIGHT 1920 
 THE RIDGWAY COMPANY 
 
 COPYRIGHT 1921 
 SAMUEL MERWIN 
 
 Printed in the United States of America
 
 To 
 
 CHARLES B. TOWNS 
 New York and Peking
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTEB PAGE 
 
 I FELLOW VOYAGERS 1 
 
 II BETWEEN THE WORLDS 22 
 
 III Miss Hui FEI 43 
 
 IV INTRIGUE 63 
 
 V RESURGENCE 96 
 
 VI CONFLAGRATION 117 
 
 VII THE INSCRUTABLE WEST 142 
 
 VIII ABOARD THE YELLOW JUNK 166 
 
 IX IN A GARDEN 189 
 
 X YOUTH 204 
 
 XI THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL OF CHAO MENG-FT; . . 233 
 
 XII AT THE HOUR OF THE TIGEB 275 
 
 XIII His EXCELLENCY SPEAKS 300 
 
 XIV THE WORLD OF FACT 315 
 
 XV IN A COURTYARD 342
 
 IN RED AND GOLD
 
 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 FELLOW VOYAGERS 
 
 a night in October, 1911, the river steamer 
 Yen Hsin lay alongside the godown, or ware- 
 house, of the Chinese Navigation Company at Shang- 
 hai. Her black hull bulked large in the darkness that 
 was spotted with inadequate electric lights. Her white 
 cabins, above, lighted here and there, loomed high and 
 ghostly, extending as far as the eye could easily see 
 from the narrow wharf beneath. Swarming continu- 
 ously across the gangplanks, chanting rhythmically to 
 keep the quick shuffling step, crews of coolies carried 
 heavy boxes and bales swung from bamboo poles. 
 
 During the evening the white passengers were com- 
 ing aboard by ones and twos and finding their cabins, 
 all of which were forward on the promenade deck, 
 grouped about the enclosed area that was to be at once 
 their dining-room and "social hall." Here, within a 
 
 I
 
 2 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 narrow space, bounded by strips of outer deck and a 
 partition wall, these few casual passengers were to be 
 caught, willy-nilly, in a sort of passing comradeship. 
 For the greater part of this deck, amidships and aft, 
 was screened off for the use of traveling Chinese offi- 
 cials, and the two lower decks would be crowded with 
 lower class natives and freight. And, not unnaturally, 
 in the minds of nearly all the white folk, as they settled 
 for the night, arose questions as to the others aboard. 
 For strange beings of many nations dig a footing of 
 sorts on the China Coast, and odd contrasts occur 
 when any few are thrown together by a careless fate. 
 . . . .And so, thinking variously in their separate cabins 
 of the meeting to come, at breakfast about the single 
 long table, and of the days of voyaging into the heart 
 of oldest China, these passengers, one by one, fell 
 asleep; while through open shutters floated quaint 
 odors and sounds from the tangle of sampans and 
 slipper-boats that always line the curving bund and 
 occasional shouts and songs from late revelers passing 
 along the boulevard beyond the rows of trees. 
 
 It was well after midnight when the Yen Hsin drew 
 in her lines and swung off into the narrow channel of 
 the Whangpoo. Drifting sampans, without lights, 
 scurried out of her path. With an American captain 
 on the strip of promenade deck, forward, that served 
 for a bridge, a yellow pilot, and Scotch engineers below 
 decks, she slipped down with the tide, past the roofed- 
 over opium hulks that were anchored out there, past 
 the dimly outlined stone buildings of the British and
 
 FELLOW VOYAGERS 3 
 
 American quarter, on into the broader Wusung. Here 
 a great German mail liner lay at anchor, lighted from 
 stem to stern. Farther down lay three American 
 cruisers; and below these a junk, drifting dimly by 
 with ribbed sails flapping and without the sign of a 
 light, built high astern, like the ghost of a medieval 
 trader. 
 
 "There's his lights now!" Thus the captain to a 
 huge figure of a man who stood, stooping a little, 
 beside him, peering out at the river. And the captain, 
 a stocky little man with hands in the pockets of a 
 heavy jacket, added "The dirty devil !" 
 
 Indeed, a small green light showed now on the 
 junk's quarter; and then she was gone astern. 
 
 After a silence, the captain said: "You may as 
 well turn in." 
 
 "Perhaps I will," replied the other. "Though I 
 get a good deal more sleep than I need on the river. 
 And very little exercise." 
 
 "That's the devil of this life, of course. Look a' 
 me I'm fat!" The captain spoke in a rough, faintly 
 blustering tone, perhaps in a nervous response to the 
 well-modulated voice of his mate. "Must make even 
 more difference to you the way you've lived. And 
 at that, after all, you ain't a slave to the river." 
 
 "No.... in a sense, I'm not." The mate fell 
 silent. 
 
 There were, of course, vast differences in the 
 degrees of misfortune among the flotsam and jetsam 
 of the coast Captain Benjamin, now, had a native
 
 4 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 wife and five or six half-caste children tucked away 
 somewhere in the Chinese city of Shanghai. 
 
 "We've got quite a bunch aboard this trip," offered 
 the captain. 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 "One or two well-known people. There's our 
 American millionaire, Dawley Kane. Took four out- 
 side cabins. His son's with him, and a secretary, and 
 a Japanese that's been up with him before. Wonder if 
 it's a pleasure trip or if it means that the Kane inter- 
 ests are getting- hold up the river. It might, at that. 
 They bought the Cantey line, you know, in nineteen 
 eight. Then there's Tex Connor, and his old side- 
 kick the Manila Kid, and a couple of women school- 
 teachers from home, and six or eight others customs 
 men and casuals. And Dixie Carmichael she's 
 aboard. Quite a bunch! And His Nibs gets on to- 
 morrow at Nanking." 
 
 "Kang, you mean?" 
 
 "The same. There's a story that he's ordered up 
 to Peking. They were talking about it yesterday at 
 the office." 
 
 "Do you think he's in trouble?" 
 
 "Can't say. But if you ask me, it don't look like 
 such a good time to be easy on these agitators, now 
 does it? And they tell me he's been letting 'em off, 
 right and left." 
 
 The mate stood musing, holding to the rail. "It's 
 a problem," he replied, after a little, rather absently. 
 
 "The funny thing is he ain't going on through.
 
 FELLOW VOYAGERS 5 
 
 Not this trip, anyhow. We're ordered to put him off 
 at his old place, this side of Huang Chau. Have to 
 use the boats. You might give them a look-see." 
 
 "They've gossiped about Kang before this at 
 Shanghai." 
 
 "Shanghai," cried the captain, with nervous irrel- 
 evancy, "is full of information about China and it's 
 all wrong!" He added then, "Seen young Black 
 lately?" 
 
 The mate moved his head in the negative. 
 
 "Consul-general sent him down from Hankow, 
 after old Chang stopped that native paper of his. I 
 ran into him yesterday, over to the bank. He says the 
 revolution's going to break before summer." 
 
 The mate made no reply to this. Every trip the 
 captain talked in this manner. His one deep fear was 
 that the outbreak might take place while he was far 
 up the river. 
 
 It had been supposed by all experienced observers 
 of the Chinese scene, that the Manchu Dynasty would 
 not long survive the famous old empress dowager, the 
 vigorous and imperious little woman who was known 
 throughout a rational and tolerant empire, not without 
 a degree of affection, as "the Old Buddha." She had 
 at the time of the present narrative been dead two years 
 and more; the daily life of the infant emperor was in 
 the control of a new empress dowager, that Lung Yu 
 who was notoriously overriding the regent and dictat- 
 ing such policies of government as she chose in the 
 intervals between protracted periods of palace revelry
 
 6 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 The one really powerful personage in Peking that 
 year was the chief eunuch, Chang Yuan-fu, a former 
 actor, notoriously the empress's personal favorite, who 
 catered to her pleasures, robbed the imperial treasury 
 of vast sums, wreaked ugly vengeance on critical cen- 
 sors, and publicly insulted dukes of the royal house. 
 
 All this was familiar. The Manchu strain had 
 dwindled out; and while an empress pleased her jaded 
 appetites by having an actor cut with the lash in her 
 presence for an indifferent performance, all South 
 China, from Canton to the Yangtze, seethed with the 
 steadily increasing ferment of revolution. Conspira- 
 tors ranged the river and the coast. At secret meet- 
 ings in Singapore, Tokio, San Francisco and New 
 York, new and bloody history was planned. The old- 
 est and hugest of empires was like a vast crater that 
 steamed and bubbled faintly here and there as hot vital 
 forces accumulated beneath. 
 
 The mate, pondering the incalculable problem, 
 finally spoke : "I suppose, if this revolt should bring 
 serious trouble to Kang, it might affect you and me 
 as well." 
 
 The captain flared up, the blustering note rising 
 higher in his voice. "But somebody'll have to run the 
 boats, won't they?" 
 
 "If they run at all." 
 
 His impersonal tone seemed to irritate further the 
 captain's troubled spirit. "If they run at all, eh? 
 It's all right for you you can go it alone you haven't 
 got children on your mind, young ones!"
 
 FELLOW VOYAGERS 7 
 
 The big man was silent again. A great hand 
 gripped a stanchion tightly as he gazed out at the dark 
 expanse of water. The captain, glancing around at 
 him, looking a second time at that hand, turned away, 
 with a little sound. 
 
 "I will say good night/' remarked the mate 
 abruptly, and left his chief to his uncertain thoughts. 
 
 The steamer moved deliberately out into the wide 
 estuary of the Yangtze, which is at this point like a 
 sea. Squatting at the edge of the deck, outside the 
 rail, the pilot spoke musically to the Chinese quarter- 
 master. Slowly, a little at a time, as she plowed the 
 ruffling water, the steamer swung off to the northwest 
 to begin her long journey up the mighty river to 
 Hankow where the passengers would change for the 
 smaller Ichang steamer, or for the express to Peking 
 over the still novel trunk railway. And if, as hap- 
 pened not infrequently, the Yen Hsin should break 
 down or stick in the mud, the Peking passengers would 
 wait a week about the round stove in the old Astor 
 House at Hankow for the next express. 
 
 A mighty river, indeed, is the Yangtze. During 
 half the year battle-ships of reasonably deep draught 
 may reach Hankow. In the heyday of the sailing trade 
 clippers out of New York and blunt lime- juicers out 
 of Liverpool were any day sights from the bund there. 
 Through a busy and not seldom bloody century the 
 merchants of a clamorous outside world have roved 
 the great river (where yellow merchants of the Mid- 
 dle Kingdom, in sampan, barge and junk, roved fifty
 
 8 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 centuries before them) with rich cargoes of tea (in 
 leaden chests that bore historic ideographs on the 
 enclosing matting) with hides and horns and coal 
 from Hupeh and furs and musk from far-away 
 Szechuen, with soya beans and rice and bristles and 
 nutgalls and spices and sesamum, with varnish and 
 tung oil and vegetable tallow, with cotton, ramie, rape 
 and hemp, with copper, quicksilver, slate, lead and anti- 
 mony, with porcelains and silk. Along this river that 
 to-day divides an empire into two vast and populous 
 domains a thousand thousand fortunes have been gained 
 and lost, rebellions and wars have raged, famines have 
 blighted whole peoples. Forts, pagodas and palaces 
 have lined its banks. The gilded barges of emperors 
 have drifted idly on its broad bosom. Exquisite 
 painted beauties have found mirrors in its neighboring 
 canals. Its waters drain to-day the dusty red plain 
 where Lady Ch'en, the Helen of China, rocked a 
 throne and died. 
 
 2 
 
 The morning sun rode high. Soft-footed cabin 
 stewards in blue robes removed the long red table- 
 cloth and laid a white. By ones and twos the passen- 
 gers appeared from their cabins or from the breezy 
 deck and took their seats, eying one another with 
 guarded curiosity as they bowed a morning greeting. 
 
 Miss Andrews, of Indianapolis, stepped out from 
 her cabin through a narrow corridor, and then, at 
 sight of the table, stopped short, while her color rose
 
 FELLOW VOYAGERS 9 
 
 slightly. Miss Andrews was slender, a year or so 
 under thirty, and, in a colorless way, pretty. Shy and 
 sensitive, the scene before her was one her mind's 
 eye had failed to picture ; the seats about the long table 
 were half filled, and entirely with men. She saw, in 
 that one quick look, the face of a young German 
 between those of two Englishmen. A remarkably 
 thin man in a check suit looked up and for an instant 
 fixed furtive eyes on hers. Just beyond him sat a 
 big man, with a round wooden face and one glass 
 eye; he turned his head with his eyes to look at her. 
 A quiet man of fifty-odd, with gray hair, a nearly 
 white mustache that was cropped close, and the expres- 
 sion of quiet satisfaction that only wealth and settled 
 authority can give, was putting a spoonful of condensed 
 milk into his coffee. Next to him sat a young man 
 very young, certainly not much more than twenty or 
 twenty-one perhaps his son (the aquiline nose and 
 slightly receding but wide and full forehead were the 
 same) rubbing out a cigarette on his butter plate. 
 He had been smoking before breakfast. She remem- 
 bered these two now ; they had been at the Astor House 
 in Shanghai; they were the Kanes, of New York, the 
 famous Kanes. They called the son, "Rocky" 
 Rocky Kane. 
 
 Unable to take in more, Miss Andrews stepped 
 back a little way into the corridor, deciding to wait for 
 her traveling companion, Miss Means, of South Bend. 
 She could hardly go out there alone and sit down with 
 all those men.
 
 io IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 But just then a door opened and closed ; and across 
 the way, coming directly, easily, out into the dining- 
 room, Miss Andrews beheld the surprising figure of a 
 slim girl or a girl she appeared at first glance of 
 nineteen or twenty, wearing a blue middy blouse and 
 short blue skirt. Her black hair was drawn loosely 
 together at the neck and tied with a bow of black 
 ribbon. Her somewhat pale face, with its thin line of 
 a mouth, straight nose, curving black eyebrows and 
 oddly pale eyes, was in some measure attractive. She 
 took her seat at the table without hesitation, acknowl- 
 edging the reserved greetings of various of the men 
 with a slight inclination of the head. 
 
 It seemed to Miss Andrews that she might now 
 go on in there. But the thought that some of these 
 men had surely noticed her confusion was disconcert- 
 ing ; and so it was a relief to hear Miss Means pattering 
 on behind her. For that firmly thin little woman had 
 fought life to a standstill and now, except in the mo- 
 ments of prim severity that came unaccountably into 
 possession of her thoughts, found it dryly amusing. 
 They took their seats, these two little ladies, Miss 
 Means laying her copy of Things Chinese beside her 
 coffee cup; and Miss Andrews tried to bow her casual 
 good mornings as the curious girl in the middy blouse 
 had done. The girl, by the way, seemed a very little 
 older at close view. 
 
 Miss Andrews stole glimpses, too, at young Mr. 
 Rocky Kane. He was a handsome boy, with thick 
 chestnut hair from which he had not wholly succeeded
 
 FELLOW VOYAGERS n 
 
 in brushing the curl, but she was not sure that she 
 liked the flush on his cheeks, or the nervous bright- 
 ness of the eyes, or the expression about the mouth. 
 There had been stories floating about the hotel in 
 Shanghai. He plainly lacked discipline. But she 
 saw that he might easily fascinate a certain sort of 
 woman. 
 
 A door opened, and in from the deck came an 
 extraordinarily tall man, stooping as he entered. On 
 his cap, in gilt, was lettered, "ist Mate." He took 
 the seat opposite Mr. Kane, senior, next to the head 
 of the table. It seemed to Miss Andrews that she had 
 never seen so tall a man ; he must have stood six feet 
 five or six inches. He was solid, broad of shoulder, a 
 magnificent specimen of manhood. And though the 
 hair was thin on top of his head, and his grave quiet 
 face exhibited the deep lines of middle age, he moved 
 with almost the springy step of a boy. If others at 
 the table were difficult to place on the scale of life, 
 this mate was the most difficult of all. With that 
 strong reflective face, and the bearing of one who 
 knows only good manners (though he said nothing at 
 all after his first courteously spoken, "Good morn- 
 ing!") he could not have been other than a gentleman 
 Miss Andrews felt that an American gentleman! 
 
 Yet his position mate of a river steamer in 
 
 China. ... . ! 
 
 The atmosphere about the table was constrained 
 throughout the meal. The Chinese stewards padded 
 softly about. The one-eyed man stared around the
 
 12 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 table without the slightest expression on his impassive 
 face. The girl in the middy blouse kept her head over 
 her plate. Miss Andrews once caught Rocky Kane 
 glancing at her with an expression nearly as furtive as 
 that of the thin man in the check suit. It was after 
 this small incident that young Kane began helping her 
 to this and that; and, when they rose, followed her out 
 to her deck chair and insisted on tucking her up in her 
 robe. 
 
 "These fall breezes are pretty sharp on the river," 
 he said. "But say, maybe it isn't hot in summer." 
 
 "I suppose it is," murmured Miss Andrews. 
 
 "I've been out here a couple of times with the pater. 
 You'll find the river interesting. Oh, not down here" 
 he indicated the wide expanse of muddy water and 
 the low-lying, distant shore "but beyond Chinkiang 
 and Nanking, where it's narrower. Lots of quaint 
 sights. The ports are really fascinating. We stop a 
 lot, you know. At Wuhu the water beggars come 
 out in tubs." 
 
 "In tubs!" breathed Miss Andrews. 
 
 Miss Means joined them then, book under arm; 
 and met his offer to tuck her up with a crisply pointed, 
 "No, thank you!" 
 
 He soon drifted away. 
 
 Said Miss Andrews : "Weren't you a little hard on 
 him, Gerty?" 
 
 "My dear," replied Miss Means severely her 
 Puritan vein strongly uppermost "that young man 
 won't do. Not at all. I saw him myself, one night
 
 FELLOW VOYAGERS 13 
 
 at the Astor House, going into one of those private 
 dining-rooms with a woman who well, her character, 
 
 or lack of it, was unmistakable! Right there in the 
 
 hotel .... under his father's eyes. That's what too 
 much money will do to a young man, if you ask me !" 
 "Oh....!" breathed Miss Andrews, looking out 
 with startled eyes at the gulls. 
 
 It was mid-afternoon when Captain Benjamin 
 remarked to his first mate: "Tex Connor's got down 
 to work, Mr. Doane. Better try to stop it, if you 
 don't mind. They're in young Kane's cabin 
 sixteen." 
 
 Number sixteen was the last cabin aft in the port 
 side, next the canvas screen that separated upper class 
 white from upper class yellow. The wooden shutters 
 had been drawn over the windows and the light turned 
 on within. Cigarette smoke drifted thickly out. 
 
 They were slow to open. Doane heard the not 
 unfamiliar voice of the Manila Kid advising against 
 it. He had to knock repeatedly. They were crowded 
 together in the narrow space between berth and couch, 
 a board across their knees Connor twisting his head 
 to fix his one eye on the intruder, the Kid, in his 
 check suit, a German of the customs and Rocky Kane. 
 There were cards, chips and a heap of money in 
 American and English notes and gold. 
 
 "What is it?" cried Kane. "What do you want?"
 
 14 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "You'd better stop this," said the mate quietly. 
 
 "Oh, come, we're just having a friendly game! 
 What right have you to break into a private room, 
 anyway ?" 
 
 The mate, stooping within the doorway, took the 
 boy in with thoughtful eyes, but did not reply directly. 
 
 Connor, with another look upward, picked up the 
 cards, and with the uncanny mental quickness of a 
 practised croupier redistributed the heap of money to 
 its original owners, and squeezed out without a word, 
 the mate moving aside for him. The German left 
 sulkily. The Kid snapped his fingers in disgust, and 
 followed. 
 
 Doane was moving away when the Kid caught his 
 elbow. He asked: "Did Benjamin send you around?" 
 
 Doane inclined his head. 
 
 "Running things with a pretty high hand, you 
 and him!" 
 
 "Keep away from that boy," was the quiet reply. 
 
 The thin man looked up at the grave strong face 
 above the massive shoulders; hesitated; walked away. 
 The mate was again about to leave when young Kane 
 spoke. He was in the doorway now, leaning there, 
 hands in pockets, his eyes blazing with indignation 
 and injured pride. 
 
 "Those men were my guests!" he cried. 
 
 "I'm sorry, Mr. Kane, to disturb your private 
 affairs, but " 
 
 "Why did you do it, then?" 
 
 "The captain will not allow Tex Connor to play
 
 FELLOW VOYAGERS 15 
 
 cards on this boat. At least, not without a fair 
 warning." 
 
 The boy's face pictured the confusion in his mind, 
 as he wavered from anger through surprise into 
 youthful curiosity. 
 
 "Oh " he murmured. "Oh so that's Tex 
 
 Connor." 
 
 "Yes. And Jim Watson with him. He was 
 cashiered from the army in the Philippines. He is 
 generally known now, along the coast, as the Manila 
 Kid." 
 
 "So that's Tex Connor! He managed the 
 
 North End Sporting in London, three years ago." 
 
 "Very likely. I believe he is known in London 
 and Paris." 
 
 "He's a professional gambler, then ?" 
 
 "I am not undertaking to characterize him. But 
 if you would accept a word of advice " 
 
 "I haven't asked for it, that I'm aware of." An 
 instant after he had said this, the boy's face changed. 
 He looked up at the immense frame of the man before 
 him, and into the grave face. The warm color came 
 into his own. "Oh, I'm sorry !" he cried. "I needn't 
 have said that." But confusion still lay behind that 
 immature face. The very presence of this big man 
 affected him to a degree wholly out of keeping with 
 the fellow's station in life, as he saw it. But he needn't 
 have been rude. "Look here, are you going to say any- 
 thing to my father ?" 
 
 "Certainly not."
 
 16 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "Witt the captain?" 
 
 "You will have to ask him yourself. Though you 
 could hardly expect to keep it from him long, at this 
 rate." 
 
 "Well he's so busy! He shuts himself up all day 
 with Braker, his secretary. The chap with the big 
 spectacles. You see" Kane laughed self-consciously; 
 a naively boyish quality in him, kept him talking more 
 eagerly than he knew "the pater's reached the stage 
 when he feels he ought to put himself right before the 
 world. I guess he's been a great old pirate, the pater 
 you know, wrecking railroads and grabbing banks 
 and going into combinations. Though it's just what 
 all the others have done. From what I've heard about 
 some of them friends of ours, too! you have to, 
 nowadays, in business. No place for little men or soft 
 men. It's a two-fisted game. This fellow spent a 
 couple of years writing the pater's autobiography 
 seems funny, doesn't it! and they're going over it 
 together on this trip. That's why Braker came along ; 
 there's no time at home. The original plan was to 
 have Braker tutor me. That was when I broke out 
 of college. But, lord ! " 
 
 "You'll excuse me now," said the mate. 
 
 Meantime the Manila Kid had sidled up to the 
 captain. 
 
 "Say, Cap," he observed cautiously, "wha'd you 
 come down on Tex like that for?" 
 
 "Oh, come," replied the captain testily, not turn- 
 ing, "don't bother me!"
 
 FELLOW VOYAGERS 17 
 
 4 
 
 "But what you expect us to do all this time on the 
 river play jackstraws?" 
 
 "I don't care what you do! Some trips they get 
 up deck games." 
 
 "Deck games!" The Kid sniffed. 
 
 "You'll find plenty to read in the library.*' 
 
 "Read!...." 
 
 "Then I guess you'll just have to stand it." 
 
 For some time they stood side by side without 
 speaking ; the captain eying the river, the Kid moodily 
 observing water buffalo bathing near the bank. 
 
 "Tex has got that Chinese heavyweight of his 
 aboard down below." 
 
 "Oh that Tom Sung?" 
 
 "Yep. Knocked out Bull Kennedy in three rounds 
 at the Shanghai Sporting. Got some matches for him 
 up at Peking and Tientsin. Taking him over to 
 Japan after that. There's an American marine that's 
 cleaned up three ships." He was silent for a space; 
 then added : "I suppose, now, if we was to arrange a 
 little boxing entertainment, you wouldn't stand for 
 that either, eh?" 
 
 "Oh, that's all right. Take the social hall if the 
 ladies don't object. But who would you put up against 
 him?" 
 
 "Well if we could find a young fellow on board, 
 Tex could tell Tom to go light." 
 
 "You might ask Mr. Doane. He complains he 
 ain't getting exercise enough."
 
 i8 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "He's pretty old still, I'd hate to go up against 
 him myself Say, you ask him, Cap!" 
 
 "I'll think it over. He's a little I'll tell you 
 
 now he wouldn't stand for your making a show of it. 
 If he did it, it 'ud just be for exercise." 
 
 "Oh, that's all right!" 
 
 Miss Means awoke with a start. It was the second 
 morning out, at sunrise. The engines were still, but 
 from without an extraordinary hubbub rent the air. 
 Drums were beating, reed instruments wailing in weird 
 dissonance, and innumerable voices chattering and 
 shouting. A sudden crackling suggested fire-crackers 
 in quantity. Miss means raised herself on one elbow, 
 and saw her roommate peeping out over the blind. 
 
 "What is it?" she asked. 
 
 "It looks very much like the real China we've 
 read about," replied Miss Andrews, raising her voice 
 above the din. "It's certainly very different from 
 Shanghai." 
 
 The steamer lay alongside a landing hulk at the 
 foot of broad steps. Warehouses crowded the bank 
 and the bund above, some of Western construction ; but 
 the crowded scene on hulk and steps and bund, and 
 among the matting-roofed sampans, hundreds of 
 which were crowded against the bank, was wholly 
 Oriental. From every convenient mast and pole pen- 
 nants and banners spread their dragons on the fresh
 
 FELLOW VOYAGERS 19 
 
 early breeze. A temporary pai-low, or archway, at 
 the top of the steps was gay with fresh paint and 
 streamers. In the air above were scores of kites, 
 designed and painted to represent dragons and birds 
 of prey, which the owners were maneuvering in mimic 
 aerial warfare ; swooping and darting and diving. As 
 Miss Means looked, one huge painted bird fell in 
 shreds to a neighboring roof, and the swarming assem- 
 blage cheered ecstatically. 
 
 Soldiers were marching in good-humored disorder 
 down the bund, in the inevitable faded blue with blue 
 turbans wound about their heads. It appeared as if 
 not another person could force his way down on the 
 hulk without crowding at least one of its occupants into 
 the water, yet on they came; and so far as our two 
 little ladies could see none fell. Fully two hundred of 
 the soldiers there were, with short rifles and bayonets. 
 Amid great confusion they formed a lane down the 
 steps and across to the gangway. 
 
 Next came a large, bright-colored sedan chair 
 slung on cross-poles, with eight bearers and with 
 groups of silk-clad mandarins walking before and 
 behind. Farther back, swaying along, were eight or 
 ten more chairs, each with but four bearers and each 
 tightly closed, waiting in line as the chair of the great 
 one was set carefully down on the hulk and opened 
 by the attending officials. 
 
 Deliberately, smilingly, the great one stepped out. 
 He was a man of seventy or older, with a drooping 
 gray mustache and narrow chin beard of gray that
 
 2 o IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 contrasted oddly with the black queue. His robe 
 was black with a square bit of embroidery in rich color 
 on the breast. Above his hat of office a huge round 
 ruby stood high on a gold mount, and a peacock 
 feather slanted down behind it. 
 
 Bowing to right and left, he ascended the gang- 
 plank, the mandarins following. There were fifteen 
 of these, each with a round button on his plumed hat 
 those in the van of red coral, the others of sapphire 
 and lapis lazuli, rock crystal, white stone and gold. 
 
 One by one the lesser chairs were brought out on 
 the hulk and opened. From the first stepped a stout 
 woman of mature years, richly clad in heavily embroid- 
 ered silks, with loops of pearls about her neck and 
 shoulders, and with painted face under the elaborately 
 built-up head-dress. Other women of various ages 
 followed, less conspicuously clad. From the last chair 
 appeared a young woman, slim and graceful even in 
 enveloping silks, her face, like the others, a mask of 
 white paint and rouge, with lips carmined into a perfect 
 cupid's bow. And with her, clutching her hand, was a 
 little girl of six or seven, who laughed merrily upward 
 at the great steamer as she trotted along. 
 
 Blue-clad servants followed, a hundred or more, 
 and swarming cackling women with unpainted faces 
 and flapping black trousers, and porters long lines 
 of porters with boxes and bales and bundles swung 
 from the inevitable bamboo poles. 
 
 At last they were all aboard, and the steamer 
 moved out.
 
 FELLOW VOYAGERS 21 
 
 "Who were all those women, in the chairs, do you 
 suppose?" asked Miss Andrews. 
 
 "His wives, probably." 
 
 "Oh....!" 
 
 "Or concubines." 
 
 Miss Andrews was silent. She could still see the 
 waving crowd on the wharf, and the banners and kites. 
 
 "He must be at least a prince, with all that 
 retinue." 
 
 Miss Andrews, thinking rapidly of Aladdin and 
 Marco Polo, of wives and concubines and strange bar- 
 barous ways, brought herself to say in a nearly matter- 
 of-fact voice: "But those women all had natural feet. 
 I don't understand." 
 
 Miss Means reached for her Things Chinese ; looked 
 up "Feet," "Women," "Dress," and other headings; 
 finally found an answer, through a happy inspiration, 
 under "Manchus." 
 
 "That's it!" she explained; and read: "The 
 Manchus do not bind the feet of their women.' ' 
 
 "Well!" Thus Miss Andrews, after a long 
 moment with more than a hint of emotional stir in 
 her usually quiet voice : "We certainly have a remark- 
 able assortment of fellow passengers. That curious 
 silent girl in the middy blouse traveling alone. . ." 
 
 "Remarkable, and not altogether edifying," 
 observed the practical Miss Means.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 BETWEEN THE WORLDS 
 
 HPOWARD noon Miss Means and Miss Andrews 
 were in their chairs on deck, when a gay little 
 outburst of laughter caught their attention, and around 
 the canvas screen came running the child they had 
 seen on the wharf at Nanking. A sober Chinese ser- 
 vant (Miss Means and Miss Andrews were not to 
 know that he was a eunuch) followed at a more 
 dignified pace. 
 
 The child was dressed in a quilted robe of bright 
 flowered silk, the skirt flaring like a bell about the 
 ankles, the sleeves extending down over the hands. 
 Her shoes were high, of black cloth with paper soles. 
 Over the robe she wore a golden yellow vest, short- 
 sleeved, trimmed with ribbon and fastened with gilt 
 buttons. Over her head and shoulders was a hood of 
 fox skin worn with the fur inside, tied with ribbons 
 under the chin, and decorated, on the top of the head, 
 with the eyes, nose and ears of a fox. As she scam- 
 pered along the deck she lowered her head and 
 charged at the big first mate. He smiled, caught her 
 
 22
 
 BETWEEN THE WORLDS 23 
 
 shoulders, spun her about, and set her free again; 
 then, nodding pleasantly to the eunuch, he passed on. 
 
 Before the two ladies he paused to say: "We are 
 coming into T'aiping, the city that gave a name to 
 China's most terrible rebellion. If you care to step 
 around to the other side, you'll see something of the 
 quaint life along the river." 
 
 "He seems very nice the mate," remarked Miss 
 Andrews. "I find myself wondering who he may 
 have been. He is certainly a gentleman." 
 
 "I understand," replied Miss Means coolly, "that 
 one doesn't ask that question on the China Coast." 
 
 They found the old river port drab and dilapidated, 
 yet rich in the color of teeming human life. The 
 river, as usual, was crowded with small craft. Nearly 
 a score of these were awaiting the steamer, each evi- 
 dently housing an entire family under its little arch 
 of matting, and each extending bamboo poles with 
 baskets at the ends. As the steamer came to a stop, 
 a long row of these baskets appeared at the rail, while 
 cries and songs arose from the water. 
 
 The little Manchu girl had found a friend in Mr. 
 Rocky Kane. He was holding her on the rail and 
 supplying her with brass cash which she dropped 
 gaily into the baskets. The eunuch stood smiling by. 
 After tiffin the child appeared again and sought her 
 new friend. She would sit on his knee and pry open 
 his mouth to see where the strange sounds came from. 
 And his cigarettes delighted her.
 
 24 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 It was the Manila Kid himself who asked Miss 
 Means and Miss Andrews if they would mind a bit 
 of a boxing match in the social hall. They promptly 
 withdrew to their cabin, after Miss Means had uttered 
 a bewildered but dignified : "Not in the least ! Don't 
 think of us !" 
 
 Shortly after dinner the cabin stewards stretched 
 a rope around four pillars, just forward of the dining 
 table. The men lighted cigarettes and cigars, and 
 moved up with quickening interest. Tex Connor, who 
 had disappeared directly after the coffee, brought in 
 his budding champion, a large grinning yellow man 
 in a bathrobe. The second mate, and two of the 
 engineers found seats about the improvised rings. 
 Then an outer door opened, and the great mandarin 
 appeared, bowing and smiling courteously with hands 
 clasped before his breast. The fifteen lesser manda- 
 rins followed, all rich color and rustling silk. 
 
 The young officers sprang to their feet and 
 arranged chairs for the party. The great man seated 
 himself, and his attendants grouped themselves behind 
 him. 
 
 Into this expectant atmosphere came the mate, in 
 knickerbockers and a sweater, stooping under the 
 lintel of the door, then straightening up and stop- 
 ping short. His eyes quickly took in the crowded 
 little picture the gray-bearded mandarin in the ring- 
 side chair, backed with a mass of Oriental color; that
 
 BETWEEN THE WORLDS 25 
 
 other personage, Dawley Kane, directly opposite, with 
 the aquiline nose, the guardedly keen eyes and the 
 quite humorless face, as truly a mandarin among the 
 whites as was calm old Kang among the yellows ; the 
 flushed eager face of Rocky Kane; the other whites, 
 all smoking, all watching him sharply, all impatient 
 for the show. He frowned; then, as the mandarin 
 smiled, came gravely forward, bent under the rope and 
 addressed him briefly in Chinese. 
 
 The mandarin, frankly pleased at hearing his own 
 tongue, rose to reply. Each clasped his own hands 
 and bowed low, with the observance of a long-hardened 
 etiquette so dear to the Oriental heart. 
 
 "How about a little bet?" whispered Rocky Kane 
 to Tex Connor. "I wouldn't mind taking the big 
 fellow." 
 
 "What odds'll you give?" replied the impassive 
 one. 
 
 "Odds nothing! Your man's a trained fighter, 
 and he must be twenty years younger." 
 
 "But this man Doane's an old athlete. He's boxed, 
 off and on, all his life. And he's kept in condition. 
 Look at his weight, and his reach." 
 
 "What's the distance?" 
 
 "Oh six two-minute rounds." 
 
 "Who'll referee?" 
 
 "Well one of the Englishmen." 
 
 But the Englishmen were not at hand. A friendly 
 bout between yellow and white overstepped their
 
 26 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 code. One of the customs men, an Australian, accepted 
 the responsibility, however. 
 
 "I'll lay you a thousand, even," said Rocky Kane. 
 
 "Make it two thousand." 
 
 "I'll give you two thousand, even," said Dawley 
 Kane quietly. 
 
 "Taken! Three thousand, altogether gold." 
 
 The mate, turning away from the mandarin, 
 caught this; stood motionless looking at them, his 
 brows drawing together. 
 
 "Gentlemen," he finally remarked, "I came here 
 with the understanding that it was to be only a little 
 private exercise. I had no objection, of course, to 
 your looking on, some of you, but this . . . . " 
 
 "Oh, come!" said Connor. "It's just for points. 
 "Tom's not going to fight you." 
 
 Young Kane, gripping the rope nervously with both 
 hands, cried : "You wouldn't quit !" 
 
 The mate looked down at these men. "No," he 
 replied, in the same gravely quiet manner, "I shall go 
 on with it. I do this" he made the point firmly, with 
 a dignity that in some degree, for the moment, over- 
 awed the younger men "I do it because his excel- 
 lency has paid us the honor of coming here in this 
 democratic way. He tells me that he is fond of boxing. 
 I shall try to entertain him." And he drew the 
 sweater over his head, and caught the gloves that the 
 Kid tossed him. 
 
 The elder Kane shrewdly took him in. The author- 
 ity of the man was not to be questioned. Without so
 
 BETWEEN THE WORLDS 27 
 
 much as raising 1 his voice he had dominated the strange 
 little gathering. Physically he was a delight to the 
 eye ; anywhere in the forties, his hair thin to the verge 
 of baldness, his strong sober face deeply lined, yet 
 with shoulders, arms and chest that spoke of great 
 muscular power and a waist without a trace of the 
 added girth that middle age usually brings; of sound 
 English stock, doubtless; the sort that in the older 
 land would ride to hounds at eighty. 
 
 Dawley Kane looked, then, at the Chinese heavy- 
 weight. This man, though not quite a match in size 
 for the giant before him, appeared every inch the 
 athlete. Kane understood the East too well to find 
 him at all surprising; he had seen the strapping 
 northern men of Yuan Shi K'ai's new army; he knew 
 that the trained runners of the Imperial Government 
 were expected, on occasion, to cover their hundred 
 miles in a day; in a word, that the curious common 
 American notion of the Chinese physique was based 
 on an occasional glimpse of a tropical laundryman. 
 And he settled back in his comfortable chair confident 
 of a run for his money. The occasion promised, 
 indeed, excellent entertainment. 
 
 The mate, still with that slight frown, glanced 
 about. Not one of the crowded eager faces about the 
 ropes exhibited the slightest interest in himself as a 
 human being. He was but the mate of a river steamer;
 
 28 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 a man who had not kept up with his generation (the 
 reason didn't matter) an individual of no standing. 
 .... He put up his hands. 
 
 Tom Sung fell into a crouch. With his left 
 shoulder advanced, his chin tucked away behind it, 
 he moved in close and darted quick but hard blows to 
 the stomach and heart. Doane stepped backward, and 
 edged around him, feeling him out, studying his hands 
 and arms, his balance, his footwork. It early became 
 clear that he was a thoroughgoing professional, who 
 meant to go in and make a fight of it .... Doane, spar- 
 ring lightly, considered this. Connor, of course, had 
 no sportsmanship. 
 
 Tom's left hand shot up through Doane's guard, 
 landing clean on his face with a sharp thud; followed 
 up with a remarkably quick right swing that the mate, 
 by sidestepping, succeeded only in turning into a glanc- 
 ing blow. And then, as Doane ducked a left thrust, he 
 uppercut with all his strength. The blow landed on 
 Doane's forearms with a force that shook him from 
 head to foot. 
 
 A sound of breath sharply indrawn came from 
 the spectators, to most of whom it must have appeared 
 that the blow had gone home. Doane, slipping away 
 and mopping the sweat from eyes and forehead, heard 
 the sound; and for an instant saw them, all leaning 
 forward, tense, eager for a knockout, the one pos- 
 sible final thrill. 
 
 The yellow man was at him again, landing left, 
 right and left on his stomach, and butting a shaven
 
 BETWEEN THE WORLDS 29 
 
 head with real force against his chin. For an instant 
 stars danced about his eyes. Elbows had followed the 
 head, roughing at his face. Doane, quickly recover- 
 ing, leaped back and dropped his hands. 
 
 "What is this?" he called sharply to Connor, whose 
 round expressionless face with its one cool light eye 
 and thin little mouth looked at him without response. 
 "Head? Elbows? Is your man going to box, or 
 not?" 
 
 The eyes that turned in surprise about the ring- 
 side were not friendly. These men cared nothing for 
 his little difficulties; their blood was up. They 
 wanted what the Americans among them would term 
 "action" and "results." 
 
 Tom was tearing at him again. So it was, after 
 all, to be a fight. No preliminary understandings 
 mattered. He felt a profound disgust, as by main 
 strength he stopped rush after rush, making full use 
 of his greater reach to pin Tom's arms and hurl him 
 back; a disgust however, that was changing gradually 
 to anger. He had known, all his life, the peculiar 
 joy that comes to a man of great strength and activity 
 in any thorough test of his power. 
 
 The customs man called time. 
 
 Rocky Kane flushed, excited, looking like a boy 
 felt in his pockets for cigarettes; found none; and 
 slipped hurriedly out to the deck.
 
 30 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 There a silken rustle stopped him short. 
 
 A slim figure, enveloped in an embroidered gown, 
 was moving back from a cabin window. The light 
 from within fell during a brief second full on an 
 oval face that was brightly painted, red and white, 
 beneath glossy black hair. The nose was straight, and 
 not wide. The eyes, slanted only a little, looked 
 brightly out from under penciled brows. She was 
 moving swiftly toward the canvas screen ; but he, more 
 swiftly, leaped before her, stared at her; laughed softly 
 in sheer delighted surprise. Then, with a quick glance 
 about the deck, breathing out he knew not what terms 
 of crude compliment he reached for her; pursued her 
 to the rail; caught her. 
 
 "You little beauty !" he was whispering now. "You 
 wonder! You darling! You're just too good to be 
 true!" Beside himself, laughing again, he bent over 
 to kiss her. But she wrenched an arm free, fought 
 him off, and leaned, breathless, against the rail. 
 
 "Little yellow tiger, eh?" he cried softly. "Well, 
 I'm a big white tiger!" 
 
 She said in English : "This is amazing !" 
 He stood frozen until she had disappeared behind 
 the canvas screen. Then he staggered back ; stumbled 
 against a deck chair; turning, found the strange thin 
 girl of the middy blouse stretched out there comfort- 
 ably in her rug. 
 
 She said, with a cool ease: "It's so pleasant out 
 here this evening, I really haven't felt like going in." 
 
 With a muttered something he knew not what
 
 BETWEEN THE WORLDS 31 
 
 "he rushed off to his cabin ; then rushed back into the 
 social hall. 
 
 5 
 
 The customs man called time for the second round. 
 
 As Doane advanced to the center of the ring, Tom 
 rushed, as before, head down. Doane uppercut him; 
 then threw him back, forestalling a clinch. The next 
 two or three rushes he met in the same determined 
 but negative way ; hitting a few blows but for the most 
 part pushing him off. The sweat kept running into 
 his eyes as he exerted nearly his full strength. And 
 Tom Sung's shoulders and arms glistened a bright 
 yellow under the electric lights. 
 
 Rocky Kane, lighting a cigarette and tossing the 
 blazing match away, called loudly : "Oh, hit him ! For 
 God's sake, do something! Don't be afraid of a 
 Chink!" 
 
 Doane glanced over at him. Tom rushed. Doane 
 felt again the crash of solid body blows delivered with 
 all the force of more than two hundred pounds of well- 
 trained muscle behind them. Again he winced and 
 retreated. He knew well that he could endure only a 
 certain amount of this punishment. .... .Suddenly Tom 
 
 struck with the sharpest impact yet. Again that hard 
 head butted his chin ; an elbow and the heel of a glove 
 roughed his face .... Doane summoned all his 
 
 strength to push him off. Then he stepped deliberately 
 forward. 
 
 At last the primitive vigor in this giant was
 
 32 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 aroused. His eyes blazed. There was no manner of 
 pleasure in hurting a fellow man of any color; but 
 since the particular man was asking for it, insisting 
 on it, there was no longer a choice. The fellow had 
 clearly been trained to this foul sort of work. That 
 would be Connor's way, to take every advantage, place 
 a large side bet and then make certain of winning. 
 There was, of course, no more control of boxing out 
 here on the coast than of gambling or other vice. 
 
 When Tom next came forward, Doane, paying not 
 the slightest heed to his own defense, exchanged blows 
 with him ; planted a right swing that raised a welt on 
 the yellow cheek. A moment later he landed another 
 on the same spot. 
 
 At the sound of these blows the men about the 
 ringside straightened up with electric excitement. 
 Then again the long muscular right arm swung, and 
 the tightly gloved fist crashed through Tom's guard 
 with a force that knocked him nearly off his balance. 
 Doane promptly brought him back with a left hook 
 that sounded to the now nearly frantic spectators as 
 if it must have broken the cheek-bone. 
 
 Tom crouched, covered and backed away. 
 
 "Have you had enough?" Doane asked. As there 
 was no reply, he repeated the question in Chinese. 
 
 Tom, instead of answering, tried another rush, 
 floundering wildly, swinging his arms. 
 
 Doane stepped firmly forward, swinging up a ter- 
 rific body blow that caught the big Chinaman at the 
 pit of the stomach, lifted his feet clear of the floor
 
 BETWEEN THE WORLDS 33 
 
 and dropped him heavily in a sitting position, from 
 which he rolled slowly over on his side. 
 
 "What are you trying to do?" cried the Manila 
 Kid, above the babel of excited voices, as he rushed 
 in there and revived his fellow champion. "What 
 are you trying to do kill 'im?" 
 
 The mate stripped off his wet gloves and tossed 
 them to the floor. "Teach your man to box fairly," 
 he replied, "or some one else will." With which he 
 stepped out of the ring, drew on his sweater and, with 
 a courteous bow to the mandarin, went out on deck. 
 There, after depositing with the purser the winnings 
 paid over by a surly Connor, Dawley Kane found him. 
 
 "Well !" cried the hitherto calm financier, "you put 
 up a remarkable fight." 
 
 Doane looked down at him, unable to reply. He 
 was still breathing hard; his thoughts were traveling 
 strange paths. He heard the man saying other things ; 
 asking, at length, about the mandarin. 
 
 "He is Kang Yu," Doane replied now, civilly 
 enough, "Viceroy of Nanking." 
 
 "No! Really? Why, he was in America!" 
 
 "He toured the world. He has been minister at 
 Paris, Berlin, London, I believe. He is a great states- 
 man certainly the greatest out here since Li Hung 
 Chang." 
 
 "No how extremely interesting!" 
 
 "He is ruler of fifty million souls, or more." The 
 mate had found his voice. He was speaking a thought 
 quickly, with a very little heat, as if eager to convince
 
 34 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 the great man of America of the standing and worth 
 of this great man of China. "He has his own army 
 and his own mint. He controls railroads, arsenals, 
 mills and mines. Incidentally, he is president of this 
 line." 
 
 "The Chinese Navigation Company? Really! 
 .You are acquainted with him yourself?" 
 
 "No. But he is a commanding figure hereabouts. 
 And of course, I at present I'm an employee of the 
 Merchants' Line." 
 
 "Oh, yes! Yes, of course! You seem to speak" 
 Chinese." 
 
 "Yes" the mate's voice was dry now "I speak 
 Chinese." 
 
 A shuffling sound reached their ears. Both 
 turned. The viceroy had come out of the cabin and 
 was advancing toward them, followed by all his man- 
 darins. Before them he paused, and again exchanged 
 with the mate the charming Eastern greeting. In 
 Chinese he said and the language that needs only a 
 resonant, cultured voice to exhibit its really great 
 dignity and beauty, rolled like music from his tongue : 
 
 "It will give me great pleasure, sir, if you will be 
 my guest to-morrow at twelve." 
 
 The mate replied, with a grave smile and a bow: 
 "It is a privilege. I am your servant." 
 
 They bowed again, with hands to breast. And all 
 the mandarins bowed. Then they moved away in 
 stately silence to their quarters aft.
 
 BETWEEN THE WORLDS 35 
 
 Kane spoke now: "How very curious! Very 
 curious !" 
 
 Doane said nothing- to this. 
 
 "They really appear to have charm, these upper 
 class people. It's a pity they are so poorly adapted to 
 the modern struggle." 
 
 Doane looked down at him, then away. As a man 
 acquainted with the East he knew the futility of dis- 
 cussing it with a Western mind; above all with the 
 mind of a successful business man, to whom activity, 
 drive, energy, were very religion. 
 
 His own thoughts were ranging swiftly back over 
 two thousand years, to the strong civilization of the 
 Han Dynasty, when disciplined Chinese armies kept 
 open the overland route to Bactria and Parthia, that 
 the silks and porcelains and pearls might travel safely 
 to waiting Roman hands; to the later, richer, riper 
 centuries of Tang and Sung, after Rome fell, when 
 Chinese civilization stood alone, a majestic fabric in 
 an otherwise crumbled and chaotic world when cer- 
 tain of the noblest landscapes and portraits ever 
 painted were finding expression, when philosophers 
 held high dreams of building conflicting dogma into 
 a single structure of comprehensive and serene faith. 
 The Chinese alone, down the uncounted centuries, had 
 held their racial integrity, their very language. Surely, 
 at some mystical but seismic turning of the racial tide, 
 they would rise again among the nations. 
 
 This giant, standing there in sweater and knicker- 
 bockers, bareheaded, gazing out at the dark river, was
 
 36 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 riot sentimentalizing. He knew well enough the pres- 
 ent problems. But he saw them with half-Eastern 
 eyes; he saw America too, with half- Eastern eyes 
 and so he could not talk at all to the very able man 
 beside him who saw the West and the world with 
 wholly Western eyes. No, it was futile. Even when 
 the great New Yorker, who had just won two thousand 
 dollars, gold, spoke with wholly unexpected kindness, 
 the gulf between their two minds remained 
 unfathomable. 
 
 "I want you to forgive me, sir I do not even 
 know your name, you see but, frankly, you interest 
 me. You are altogether too much of a man for the 
 work you are doing here. That is clear. I would be 
 glad to have you tell me what the trouble is. Per- 
 haps I could help you." 
 
 This from the man who held General Railways 
 in the hollow of his hand, and Universal Hydro- 
 Electric, and Consolidated Shipping, and the Kane, 
 Wilmarth and Cantey banks, a chain that reached liter- 
 ally from sea to sea across the great young country 
 that worshiped the shell of political freedom as insist- 
 ently as the Chinese worshiped their ancestors, yet 
 gave over the newly vital governing power of finance 
 into wholly irresponsible private hands. 
 
 The situation, grotesque in its beginning, seemed 
 now incredible to Doane. He drew a hand across his 
 brow; then spoke, with compelling courtesy but with 
 also a dismissive power that the other felt : "You are 
 very kind, Mr. Kane. At some other time I shall be
 
 BETWEEN THE WORLDS 37 
 
 glad to talk with you. But my hours are rather exact- 
 ing, and I am tired." 
 
 "Naturally. You have given a wonderful exhibi- 
 tion of what a man of character can do with his 
 body. I wish I had you for a physical trainer. And 
 I wish the example might start my boy to thinking 
 more wholesomely . . . Good night !" And he extended 
 a friendly hand. 
 
 6 
 
 Mr. Kane's boy presented himself on the following 
 morning as an acute problem. He was about the deck, 
 shortly after breakfast, playing with the Manchu 
 child. Then, after eleven, Captain Benjamin handed 
 his mate a note that had been scribbled in pencil on a 
 leaf torn from a pocket note-book and folded over. It 
 was addressed : 
 
 "To the Chinese Lady who spoke English last 
 night." And the content was as follows : "I shouldn't 
 have been rude, but I must see you again. Can't you 
 slip around the canvas this evening, late? I'll be 
 watching for you." There was no signature. 
 
 "Make it out?" asked the captain. "Old Kang 
 sent it up to me asks us to speak to the young man. 
 But how'm I to know which young man it is?." 
 
 "Do you know how it was sent?" 
 
 "Yes. The little princess took it back." 
 
 "It won't be hard to find the man." 
 
 "You know?" 
 
 "I think so."
 
 38 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "Well, just put him wise, will you?" 
 
 "I'll speak to him." 
 
 "Wait a minute! You thinking of young Kane?" 
 
 The mate inclined his head. 
 
 "Well you know who he is, don't you? Who 
 they are?" 
 
 Doane bowed again. 
 
 "Better use a little tact." 
 
 Doane walked back along the deck to cabin six- 
 teen. A fresh breeze blew sharply here; the chairs 
 had all been moved across to the other side where 
 the sunlight lay warm on the planking. Within 
 the social hall the second engineer a wistful, shy 
 young Scot had brought his battered talking machine 
 to the dining table and was grinding out a comic song. 
 Two or three of the men were in there, listening, 
 smoking, and sipping highballs ; Doane saw them as he 
 passed the door. Through the open but shuttered 
 window of cabin number twelve came the clicking of a 
 typewriter and men's voices ; that would be Mr. Kane, 
 discussing his "autobiography" with its author. 
 
 Before number sixteen, Doane paused; sniffed the 
 air. A curious odor was floating out through these 
 shutters, an odor that he knew. He sniffed again; 
 then abruptly knocked at the door. 
 
 A drowsy voice answered: "What is it? What do 
 you want?" 
 
 "I must see you at once," said Doane. 
 
 There was a silence; then odd sounds a faint 
 rattling of glass, a scraping, cupboard doors opening
 
 BETWEEN THE WORLDS 39 
 
 and closing 1 . Finally the door opened a few inches. 
 There was Rocky Kane, hair tousled, coat, collar and 
 tie removed, and shirt open at the neck. Doane looked 
 sharply at his eyes; the pupils were abnormally small. 
 And the odor was stronger now and of a slightly 
 choking tendency. 
 
 "What are you looking at me like that for?" cried 
 young Kane, shrinking back a little way. 
 
 "I think," said Doane, "you had better let me 
 come in and talk with you." 
 
 "What right have you got saying things like that? 
 What do you mean?" 
 
 "I have really said nothing as yet." 
 
 Kane, seeming bewildered, allowed the door to 
 swing inward and himself stepped back. The big mate 
 came stooping within. 
 
 "Your note has been returned," he said shortly; 
 and gave him the paper. 
 
 Kane accepted it, stared down at it, then sank 
 back on the couch. 
 
 "What's this to you !" he managed to cry. "What 
 right. . . .what do you mean, saying I wrote this?" 
 
 "Because you did. You sent it back by the little 
 girl." 
 
 "Well, what if I did ! What right" 
 
 "I am here at the request of his excellency, the 
 viceroy of Nanking. You have been annoying his 
 daughter. The fact that she chooses, while in her 
 father's household, to wear the Manchu dress, does not 
 justify you in treating her otherwise than as a lady.
 
 40 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 Perhaps I can't expect you to understand that his 
 exellency is one of the greatest statesmen alive to-day. 
 Nor that this young lady was educated in America, 
 knows the capitals of Europe better, doubtless, than 
 yourself, and is a princess by birth. She went to school 
 in England and to college in Massachusetts. Take my 
 advice, and try no more of this sort of thing." 
 
 The boy was staring at him now, wholly bewil- 
 dered. "Well," he began stumblingly, "perhaps I have 
 been a little on the loose. But what of it! A fellow 
 has to have some fun, doesn't he?" 
 
 The mate's eyes were taking in keenly the crowded 
 little room. 
 
 "Well," cried Kane petulantly, "that's all, isn't it? 
 I understand ! I'll let her alone !" 
 
 "You don't feel that an apology might be due?" 
 
 "Apologize? To that girl?" 
 
 "To her father." 
 
 "Apologize to a Chink?" 
 
 The word grated strangely on Doane's nerves. 
 
 Suddenly the boy cried out: "Well that's all? 
 There's nothing more you want to say? What are 
 you what are you looking like that for?" 
 
 The sober deep-set eyes of the mate were resting 
 on the high dresser at the head of the berths. There, 
 tucked away behind the water caraffe, was a small 
 lamp with a base of cloisonne work in blue and gold 
 and a small, half globular chimney of soot-blackened 
 glass. 
 
 "What are you looking at ? What do you mean ?"
 
 BETWEEN THE WORLDS 41 
 
 The boy writhed under the steady gaze of this 
 huge man, who rested a big hand on the upper berth 
 and gazed gravely down at him; writhed, tossed out 
 a protesting arm, got to his feet and stood with a weak 
 effort at defiance. 
 
 "Now I suppose you'll go to my father!" he cried. 
 "Well, go ahead ! Do it ! I don't care. I'm of age 
 my money's my own. He can't hurt me. And he 
 knows I'm on to him. Don't think I don't know some 
 of the things he's done he and his crowd. Ah, we're 
 not saints, we Kanes! We're good fellows we've 
 got pep, we succeed but we're not saints." 
 
 "How long have you been smoking opium ?" asked 
 the mate. 
 
 "I don't smoke it! I mean I never did. Not until 
 Shanghai. And you needn't think the pater hasn't 
 hit the pipe a bit himself. I never saw a lamp until 
 he took me to the big Hong dinner at Shanghai last 
 month. They had 'em there. And it wasn't all they 
 had, either." 
 
 "If you are telling me the truth," said the mate 
 
 "I am. I tell you I am." 
 
 " Then you should have no difficulty in stopping. 
 It would take a few weeks to form the habit. You 
 can't smoke another pipe on this boat." 
 
 "But what right good lord, if the pater would 
 drag me out here, away from all my friends .... you 
 think I'm a rotter, don't you !" 
 
 "My opinion is not m question. I must ask you 
 to give me, now, whatever opium you have."
 
 42 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 Slowly, moodily, evidently dwelling in a confusion 
 of sulky resentful thoughts, the boy knelt at the cup* 
 board and got out a small card-board box. 
 
 The mate opened it, and found several shells of 
 opium within. He promptly pitched it out over the 
 rail. 
 
 "This is all?'* he asked. 
 
 "Well look in there yourself!" 
 
 But the mate was looking at the suit-case, and at 
 the trunk beneath the lower berth. 
 
 "You give me your word that you have no more ?" 
 
 "That's all," said the boy. 
 
 The mate considered this answer ; decided to accept 
 it; turned to go. But the boy caught at his sleeve. 
 
 "You do think I'm a rotter!" he cried. "Well, 
 maybe I am. Maybe I'm spoiled. But what's a fel- 
 low to do? My father's a machine that's what he is 
 a ruthless machine. My mother divorced him ten 
 years ago. She married that English captain got 
 the money out of father for them to live on, and now 
 she's divorced him. Where do I get off? I know 
 Fm overstrung, nervous. I've always had everything 
 I want. Do you wonder that I've begun to look for 
 something new? Perhaps I'm going to hell. I know 
 you think so. I can see it in your eyes. But who 
 cares !" 
 
 Doane stood a long time at the rail, thinking. 
 The ship's clock in the social hall struck eight bells. 
 Faintly his outer ear caught it It was time to join 
 his excellency.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 MISS HUI FEI 
 
 "T^HE luncheon table of his excellency was simply 
 set, with two chairs of carven blackwood, behind 
 a high painted screen of six panels. It was at this 
 screen that the first mate (left by a smiling attendant) 
 gazed with a frown of incredulity. Cap in hand, he 
 stepped back and studied the painting, a landscape 
 representing a range of mountains rising above mist 
 in great rock-masses, chasms where tortured trees 
 clung, towering, jagged peaks, all partly obscured by 
 the softly luminous vapor a scene of power and 
 beauty. Much of the brighter color had faded into 
 the prevailing tones of old ivory yellow shading into 
 something near Rembrandt brown ; though the original 
 reds and blues still held vividly in the lower right 
 foreground, where were pictured very small, exquisite 
 in detail yet of as trifling importance in the majestic 
 scheme of the painting as are man and his works in 
 all sober Chinese thought when considered in relation 
 to the grim majesty of nature, a little friendly cluster 
 of houses, men at work, children at play, domestic 
 animals, a stream with a water buffalo, a bridge, a 
 wayfarer riding a donkey, and cultivated fields. The 
 
 43
 
 44 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 ideographic signature was in rich old gold, inscribed 
 with unerring decorative instinct on a flat rock 
 surface. 
 
 The mate bent low and looked closely at the brush- 
 work ; then stepped around an end panel and examined 
 the texture of the silk. 
 
 "Ah!" it was a musical deep voice, speaking in 
 the mandarin tongue "you admire my screen, 
 Griggsby Doane." The name was pronounced in 
 English. 
 
 His excellency wore a short jacket of pale yellow 
 over a skirt of blue, both embroidered in large circles 
 of lotus flowers around centers of conventional good- 
 fortune designs, in which the swastika was a leading 
 motive. His bared head was shaved only at the sides, 
 as the top had long been bald. He looked gentle and 
 kind as he stood leaning on hi? cane and extending a 
 wrinkled hand; smiling in the fashion of forthright 
 friendship. The thin little gray beard, the unobtru- 
 sively courteous eyes, the calm manner, all gave him 
 an appearance of simplicity that made it momentarily 
 difficult to think of him as the great negotiator of the 
 tangled problems of statesmanship involved in the 
 expansion of Japan, the man who very nearly con- 
 vinced Europe of American good faith during the 
 agitated discussion and correspondence that arose out 
 of the "Open Door" proposals of John Hay, a man 
 known among the observant and informed in London, 
 Paris and Washington as a great statesman and a 
 greater gentleman.
 
 MISS HUI FEI 45 
 
 "I thought at first" thus the mate, touched by 
 the fine honor done him (an honor that would, he 
 quickly felt, demand tact on the bridge) "that it was 
 a genuine Kuo Hsi." 
 
 "No. A copy." 
 
 "So I see. A Ming copy at least the silk appears 
 to be Ming the heavy single strand, closely woven. 
 And the seals date very closely. If it were woven of 
 double strands, even in the warp alone, I should not 
 hesitate to call it a genuine Northern Sung." 
 
 "You observe closely, Griggsby Doane. It is sup- 
 posed that Ch'uan Shih made this copy." His smile 
 was now less one of kindness and courtesy than of 
 genuine pleasure. "You shall see the original." 
 
 "You have that also, Your Excellency?" 
 
 "In my home at Huang Chau." 
 
 "I have never seen a genuine painting of Kuo 
 Hsi. It would be a great privilege. I have read some 
 of the sayings attributed to him, as taken down by 
 his son. One I recall 'If the artist, without realizing 
 his ideal, paints landscapes with a careless heart, it is 
 like throwing earth upon a deity, or casting impurities 
 into the clean wind.' ' 
 
 "Yes," added his excellency, almost eagerly, "and 
 this 'To have in landscape the opportunity of seeing 
 water and peaks, of hearing the cry of monkeys and 
 the song of birds, without going from the room.' ' 
 
 Servants appeared bearing covered dishes. His 
 excellency placed the mate in the seat commanding the 
 wider view of the river. A clear broth was served,
 
 46 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 followed by stewed shell fish with cassia mushrooms, 
 steamed sharks' fins served with crabmeat and ham, 
 roast duck stuffed with young- pine needles, and 
 preserved pomegranates, carambolas and plums, fol- 
 lowed by small cups of rice wine. 
 
 The conversation lingered with the great Sung 
 painters, passing naturally then to the conflict during 
 the eleventh and twelfth centuries between the free 
 vitality of Buddhist thought and the deadening for- 
 malism of the Confucian tradition. 
 
 And Doane's thoughts, as he listened or quietly 
 spoke, dwelt on the attainments and character of this 
 great man who was so simple and so friendly ^ His 
 excellency had spoken his own full name, Griggsby 
 Doane, which would mean that the wide-reaching, 
 instantly responsive facilities for gathering information 
 that may be set at work by the glance of a viceroy's 
 eye or a movement of his jeweled finger had been 
 brought into play within the twenty-four hours. 
 
 "My heart is there in the Sung Dynasty," his excel- 
 lency said. "I never look upon the old canals of Hang 
 Chow or the ruins of stone-walled lotus gardens by 
 the Si-hu without sadness. And Kai-feng-fu to-day, 
 wrings my heart." 
 
 "Truly," mused Doane, "it was in the days of 
 Tang and Sung that the soul of China so nearly found 
 its freedom." 
 
 "You indeed understand, Griggsby Doane!" The
 
 MISS HUI FEI 47 
 
 two English words stood out with odd emphasis in 
 the musical flow of cultured Chinese speech. "Had 
 that spirit endured, China would to-day, I like to 
 think, have Korea and Manchuria and Mongolia and 
 Sin Kiang. China would not to-day wear a piteous 
 smile on the lips, turning the head to hide tears of 
 shame, while the Russians absorb our northern fron- 
 tiers and the French draw tribute from Annam and 
 Yunnan, while the English control this great valley 
 of the Yangtze, while the Germans drive their mailed 
 fist into Shantung, and the Japanese send their spies 
 throughout all our land and stand insolently at the 
 very gate of the Forbidden City. I could not, perhaps, 
 speak my heart freely to one of my own countrymen, 
 but to you I can say, Confucian scholar though they 
 may term me, that since what you call the thirteenth 
 century there has been a gradual paralysis of the 
 
 will in China, a softening of the political brain 
 
 You will permit an old man this latitude? I have 
 served China without thought of self during nearly 
 fifty years. To the Old Buddha I was ever a loyal 
 servant. If toward the new emperor and the empress 
 dowager I find it impossible to feel so deeply, my 
 heart is yet devoted to the throne and to my people. 
 If while sent abroad in service of my country it has 
 been given me to see much of merit in Western ways, 
 it is not that I have become a revolutionist, a traitor 
 to the government of my ancestors." 
 
 There was a light in the kindly eyes; a strong ring 
 in the deep voice. He went on :
 
 48 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "No, I am not a traitor. It is not that. It is that 
 my country has suffered, is now prostrate, with a long 
 sickness. She must be helped; but she must as well 
 help herself. She is like one who has lain too long 
 abed. She must think, arise, act. With my poor eyes 
 I can see no other hope for her. Even though I myself 
 may suffer, I can not, in truth to my own faith, punish 
 those who, loving China as deeply as I myself love 
 her, yet feel that they must goad her until she awakens 
 from her pitiful sleep of more than six centuries. . . . 
 Nor am I a republican. China is not like your country. 
 In an imperial throne I must believe. Yet, she must 
 listen to all, study all, draw from all. Freedom of 
 thought there must be. We must not longer worship 
 books and the dead. We must learn to look about us 
 and on before." 
 
 Their chairs were drawn about to the windows. 
 Slowly the wide river slipped off astern. 
 
 "But you, Griggsby Doane, why are you here? 
 This is not the life for which you so laboriously and 
 so worthily prepared yourself. I knew of you over in 
 T'ainan-fu. You were a true servant of your faith. 
 After the dreadful year of the Boxers you returned 
 to your task. And during the trouble in nineteen 
 hundred and seven, the fighting with the Great Eye 
 Society in Hansi, you conducted yourself with brav- 
 ery. I was at Sian-fu that year, and was well 
 informed. Yet you gave up the church mission." 
 
 The mate's eyes were fixed gloomily on the long 
 vista of the river. For a moment it seemed as if he
 
 MISS HUI FEI 49 
 
 would speak; and the viceroy, seeing- his lips part, 
 leaned a little way forward; but then the lips were 
 closed tightly and the great head bent deliberately 
 fonvard. 
 
 "I knew," continued his excellency, "when the 
 Asiatic Company of New York was negotiating with 
 me the contract for rebuilding the banks of the 
 Grand Canal in Kiang-su that you had gone from 
 T'ainan, and that you had, as well, left the church. 
 You had even gone from China." 
 
 "That was in nineteen nine," said Doane, in the 
 somber voice of one who thinks moodily aloud. "I 
 was in America then." 
 
 "Yes, it was in your year nineteen nine. For a 
 time those negotiations hung, I recall, on the ques- 
 tion of the means to be employed in dealing with local 
 resentments. The trouble over the Ho Shan Company 
 in Hansi, of which you knew so much and which you 
 met with such noble courage, had taught us all to 
 move with caution." 
 
 "My position in that Hansi trouble has not been 
 clearly understood, Your Excellency. I was there only, 
 a short time, and was ill at that." 
 
 The viceroy smiled, kindly, wisely. "You went 
 alone and on foot from T'ainan-fu to So T'ung in the 
 face of a Looker attack, and yourself settled that 
 tragic business. You then walked, without even a 
 night's rest, the fifty-five li from T'ainan to Hung 
 Chan. There, at the city gate, you were attacked and 
 severely wounded, and crawled to the house of a Chris-
 
 50 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 tian native. But while still weak and in a fever you 
 walked the three hundred li to Ping Yang- and made 
 your way through the Looker army into Monsieur 
 Pourmont's compound . . . . " 
 
 He pronounced the two words "Monsieur Pour- 
 mont" in French. What a remarkable old man he 
 was mentally all alive, sensitive as a youth to the 
 quick currents of life! The accuracy of his informa- 
 tion, like his memory, was surprising. Though to 
 the Westerner, every normal Chinese memory is that. 
 Merely learning the language needs or builds a mem- 
 ory Most surprising was that so deep attention 
 
 had been given to Doane's own small case. The fact 
 bewildered; was slow in coming home. For Kang 
 was a great man; his proper preoccupations were 
 many ; that he was a poet, and had early aspired to the 
 laureateship, was commonly known indeed, Doane 
 had somewhere his own translation of Ranges Ode to 
 the Rich Earth, from the scroll in the author's calli- 
 graphy owned by Pao Ting Chuan at T'ainan-fu. As 
 an amateur in the art of his own land of fine taste 
 and sound historical background he was known 
 everywhere; his collection of early paintings, por- 
 celains, jades and jewels being admittedly one of the 
 most valuable remaining in China. And he was 
 reputed to be the richest individual not of the royal 
 blood (excepting perhaps Yuan Shi K'ai). 
 
 A contrast, not untinged with a passing bitterness, 
 arose in Doane's mind. Here before him quietly sat 
 this so-called yellow man who was more competent
 
 MISS HUI FEI 51 
 
 than perhaps any other to select his own art treasures 
 and write his own poems and state papers; whose 
 journals, known to exist, must inevitably, if not lost 
 in a war-torn land, take their place as a part of China's 
 history; a man who was at once manufacturer, 
 financier, and statesman, on whom for a decade a 
 weakening throne had leaned. While in the cabin for- 
 ward was a great white man as truly representative of 
 the new civilization as was Kang of the old ; yet who 
 hired men of special knowledge to select the art treas- 
 ures that would be left, one day, in his name and as a 
 monument to his culture, who even employed a trained 
 writer to pen the work that he proposed unblushingly 
 to call his "autobiography." For such a man as 
 Dawley Kane, whatever his manners, Doane felt now, 
 knew only the power of money. Through that alone 
 his genius functioned; the rest was a lie. On the one 
 hand was culture, on the other something else. The 
 thought bit into his brain. 
 
 But his excellency had not finished: 
 
 "And there, my dear Griggsby Doane, while still 
 suffering from your wound, you learned that those in 
 Monsieur Pourmont's compound were cut off from 
 communication with their nationals at Peking. You 
 at once volunteered to go again, alone, through the 
 Looker lines to the railhead with messages, and suc- 
 cessfully did so. ... Do you wonder, my dear young 
 friend, that knowing this, and more, of your honesty 
 and personal force from my one-time assistant, Pao 
 Ting Chuan, of T'ainan-fu, I pressed strongly on thq
 
 52 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 gentlemen from New York who represented the Asiatic 
 Company my desire that they secure you to act as 
 their resident director? And do you wonder that I 
 regretted your refusal so to act ?" 
 
 This statement came to Doane as a surprise. 
 
 "They offered me a position, yes," he said t pon- 
 dering on the inexplicable ways in which the currents 
 of life meet and cross. "But they told me nothing of 
 your interest." 
 
 His excellency smiled. "It might have raised your 
 price. They would think of that. The sharpest trad- 
 ing, Griggsby Doane, is not done in the Orient. That 
 I have learned from a long lifetime of struggling 
 against the aggressions of white nations. During the 
 discussion of the concerted loan to China you recall 
 it? they talked of lending us a hundred million dol- 
 lars, gold. To read your New York papers was to 
 think that we were almost to be given the money. It 
 seemed really a philanthropy. But do you know what 
 their left hands were doing while their right hands 
 waved in a fine gesture of aid to the struggling China ? 
 These were the terms. First they subtracted a large 
 commission that for the bankers themselves; then, 
 what with stipulations of various sorts as to the uses 
 to which the money or the credit was to be put, 
 mostly in purchases of railway and war material from 
 their own hongs at further huge profits to them-
 
 MISS HUI FEI 53 
 
 selves, they whittled it down until the actual money to 
 be expended under our own direction, amounted to 
 about fifteen millions. And with that went immense 
 new concessions really the signing away of an em- 
 pire and new foreign supervision of our internal 
 affairs. For all these privileges we were to pay an 
 annual interest and later repay the full amount, one 
 hundred millions. It was quite unbearable." He 
 sighed. "But what is poor old China to do ?" 
 
 Doane nodded gravely. "I felt all that the sort 
 of thing when I talked with representatives of the 
 Asiatic Company. Not that I blamed them, of course. 
 It is a point of view much larger than any of them; 
 they are but part of a great tendency. I couldn't go 
 into it." 
 
 "Why not?" The viceroy's keen eyes dropped to 
 the slightly faded blue uniform, then rested again on 
 the strong face. 
 
 "The past few years I will pass over the details 
 have been well, not altogether happy for me. I have 
 been puzzled. All the rich years of my younger man- 
 hood were given to the mission work. But I had to 
 leave the church. At first I felt a joy in simple hard 
 work I am very strong but hard work alone could 
 not satisfy my thoughts." 
 
 "No.... No." 
 
 "For a time I believed that the solution of my 
 personal problem lay in taking the plunge into com- 
 mercial life. I had come to feel, out there, that busi-
 
 54 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 ness was, after all, the natural expression of man's 
 active nature in our time." 
 
 "Yes. Doubtless it is." 
 
 "It was in that state of mind that I returned home 
 to the States. But it proved impossible. I am not 
 a trader. It was too late. My character, such as it 
 was and is, had been formed and hardened in another 
 mold. I talked with old friends, but only to discover 
 that we had between us no common tongue of the 
 spirit. Perhaps if I had entered business early, as 
 they did, I, too, would have found my early ideals 
 being warped gradually around to the prevailing 
 point of view." 
 
 "The point stands out, though," said the viceroy, 
 "that you did not enter business. You chose a more 
 difficult course, and one which leaves you, in ripe 
 middle age, without the means to direct your life 
 effectively and in comfort." 
 
 "Yes," mused Doane, though without bitterness. 
 "I feel that, of course. And it is hard, very hard, to 
 lose one's country. Yet. ..." 
 
 His voice dropped. He sat, elbow on crossed 
 knees, staring at the ever-changing river. When he 
 spoke again, the bitter undertone was no longer in his 
 voice. He was gentler, but puzzled; a man who has 
 suffered a loss that he can not understand. 
 
 "All my traditions," he said, "my memories of 
 America, were of simple friendly communities, a land 
 of earnest religion, of political freedom. In my 
 thoughts as a younger man certain great figures stood
 
 MISS HUI FEI 55 
 
 out Washington, Lincoln, Charles Sumner, Wendell 
 Philips, Philips Brooks and yes, Henry Ward 
 Beecher. I had deeply felt Emerson, Longfellow, 
 Lowell and Whittier. The Declaration of Independ- 
 ence could still fire my blood. And it was such a land 
 of simple faith that I tried for so many years, 
 however ineffectually, to represent here in China. To 
 be sure, disquieting thoughts came church disunity, 
 the spectacle of unbridled license among so many of 
 my fellow countrymen in the coast ports, the methods 
 of certain of our great corporations in pushing their 
 wares in among your people. But even when I found 
 it necessary to leave the church, I still believed deeply 
 in my country." 
 
 He paused to control a slight Unsteadiness of 
 voice ; then went on : 
 
 "May I ask if you, Your Excellency, after your 
 long visits in Europe, have not come home to meet with 
 something the same difficulty, to find yourself looking 
 at your own people with the eyes of a stranger, receiv- 
 ing such an impression as only a stranger can receive ?" 
 
 "Indeed, yes!" cried the viceroy softly, with deep 
 feeling. "It is the most difficult moment, I have 
 sometimes felt, in a man's life. It is the summit of 
 loneliness, for there is no man among his friends who 
 can share his view, and there is none who would not 
 misunderstand and censure him. And yet, a country, 
 a people, like a city, does present to the alien eye, a 
 complete impression, it exhibits clearly outlined char- 
 acteristics that can be observed in no other way. Even
 
 56 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 the alien loses that clear, true impression on very short 
 acquaintance. He then becomes, like all the others, a 
 part of the picture he has once seen." 
 
 "It is so, Your Excellency. My country, in that 
 first, startled, clear glance, affected me I may as well 
 use the word unpleasantly. It was utterly different 
 from anything I had known, a trader's paradise, a 
 place of unbelievable confusion, of an activity that 
 bewildered, rushing to what end I could not under- 
 stand." 
 
 He was speaking now not only in the Chinese 
 language but in the idiom as well, generalizing rhetor- 
 ically as the Chinese do. It was almost as if the words 
 came from a Chinese mind. 
 
 They were silent for a time. Then the viceroy 
 asked, in his gently abrupt way: "Why did you leave 
 the church?" 
 
 "Because I sinned." 
 
 "Against the church?" 
 
 "That, and my own faith." 
 
 "Were you asked to leave ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "They knew of your sin?** 
 
 "I told them," 
 
 "Yet they would have kept you?" 
 
 "Yes. My own feeling was that my superior 
 temporized."
 
 MISS HUI FEI 57 
 
 "He knew your value." 
 
 "I can not say as to that. But he wished me to 
 marry again. I couldn't do that not in the spirit 
 intended. Not as I felt." 
 
 "We are different, Griggsby Doane, you and I. I 
 am a Manchu, you an American. The customs of our 
 two lands are very different. What would seem a 
 sin to you, might not seem so to me. Yet I, too, have 
 a conscience to which I must answer. I believe I 
 understand you. It is, I see, because of your con- 
 science that you sit before me now, on this boat and 
 in this uniform, a man, as your great Edward Everett 
 Hale has phrased it, without a country." 
 
 He paused, and filled again the little pipe-bowl, 
 studied it absently as his wrinkled fingers worked the 
 tobacco. His nails were trimmed short, like those of 
 a white man. Doane thought, swiftly, of the man's 
 dramatic past, sent out as he had been to become a 
 citizen of the world by a nation that would in very 
 necessity fail to understand the resulting changes in 
 his outlook. There was his daughter; she would be 
 almost an American, after four years of college life. 
 And she, now, would be a problem indeed! What 
 could he hope to make of her life in this Asia where 
 woman, like labor in his own country, was a com- 
 modity. It would be absorbingly interesting, were it 
 possible, to peep into that smooth-running old brain 
 and glimpse the problems there. They were gossiping 
 about him. His stately figure was to-day the center 
 about which coiled the life and death intrigue of
 
 58 IN RED 'AND GOLD 
 
 Chinese officialdom and over which hung suspended 
 the silken power of an Oriental throne .... Doane's 
 personal problem shrank into nothing a flitting mem- 
 ory of a little outbreak of egotism as he studied the 
 old face on which the revealing hand of Age had 
 inscribed wisdom, kindliness and shrewdness. 
 
 Soft footfalls sounded; then, after a moment, a 
 sharper sound that Doane assumed^ with a slight 
 quickening of the imagination, to be the high wooden 
 clogs of a Manchu lady, until he realized that no 
 clogs could move so lightly; no, these were little 
 .Western shoes. 
 
 A young woman appeared, slender and comely, 
 dressed in a tailored suit that could have come only 
 from New York, and smiling with shy eagerness. She 
 was of good height (like the Manchus of the old 
 stock), the face nearly oval, quite unpainted and softly 
 pretty, with a broad forehead that curved prettily back 
 under the parted hair, arched eyebrows, eyes more 
 nearly straight than slanting (that opened a thought 
 less widely than those of Western people), and with 
 a quaint, wholly charming friendliness in her smile. 
 
 He felt her sense of freedom; and knew as she 
 tried to take his huge hand in her own small one that 
 she carried her Western ways, as her own people 
 would phrase it, with a proud heart. She was of those 
 aliens who would be happily American, eager to show 
 ther kinship with the great land of fine free traditions. 
 
 And holding the small hand, looking down at her, 
 [Doane found his perhaps overstrained nerves respond-
 
 MISS HUI FEI 59 
 
 ing warmly to her fine youth and health. He reflected, 
 in that swift way of his wide-ranging mind, on the 
 amazing change in Chinese official life that made it 
 even remotely possible for the viceroy to present his 
 daughter with a heart as proud as hers. The change 
 had come about during the term of Doane's own resi- 
 dence .... America, then, was not alone in changing. 
 It was a shaking, puzzled and puzzling world. 
 
 "This," his excellency was saying, "is my daugh- 
 ter, Hui Fei." 
 
 "I am very pleas' to meet you," said Hui Fei. 
 
 They sat then. The girl became at once, as in 
 America, the center of the talk. Though of the heed- 
 lessness not uncommonly found among American girls 
 she had none. She was prettily, sensitively, deferential 
 to her father. Somewhere back of the bright surface 
 brain from which came the quick eager talk and the 
 friendly smile, deep in her nature, lay the sense of 
 reverence for those riper in years and in authority 
 that was the deepest strain in her race. She dwelt on 
 things almost utterly American: the brightness of 
 New York she said she liked it best in October, when 
 the shops were gay; the approaching Yale-Harvard 
 football game, a motoring tour through the White 
 Mountains, happy summers at the seashore. 
 
 Doane watched her, speaking only at intervals, 
 wondering if there might not be, behind her gentle 
 enthusiasm, some deeper understanding of her present 
 situation. He could not surely make out She had 
 humor, and when he asked if it did not seem strange
 
 60 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 to step abruptly back into the old life, she spoke 
 laughingly of her many little mistakes in etiquette. 
 Her English he found charming. She was continually 
 slipping" back into it from the Mandarin tongue she 
 tried to use, and as continually, with great gaiety, 
 reaching back into Chinese for the equivalent phrase. 
 She had so nearly conquered the usual difficulty with 
 the I's and r's as to confuse them only when she spoke 
 hurriedly. At these times, too, she would leave off 
 final consonants. The long e became then, a short t. 
 Doane even smiled, with an inner sense of pleasure, at 
 her pretty emphasis when she once converted people 
 into pipple. She was, unmistakably, a young woman 
 of charm and personality. Despite the quaintness of 
 her speech, she was accustomed to thinking in the new 
 tongue. Her command of it was excellent ; better than 
 would commonly be found in America. All of which, 
 of course, intensified the problem. 
 
 His excellency sat back, smoked comfortably, and 
 looked on her with frankly indulgent pride. 
 
 A servant came with a message ; bowing low. The 
 viceroy excused himself, leaving his daughter and 
 Doane together. Doane asked himself, during the 
 pause that followed his departure, what the observant 
 attendants beyond the screen would be thinking. The 
 situation, from any familiar Chinese point of view, was 
 unthinkable. Yet here he sat; and there, her brows 
 drawn together (he saw now) in sober thought, sat 
 delightful Miss Hui Fei. 
 
 She said, in a low voice, while looking out at the
 
 MISS HUI FEI 61 
 
 river : "Mr. Doane, no matter what you may think 
 I mus' see you. This evening. You mus' tell me 
 where. It mus' not be known to any one. There are 
 spies here." 
 
 Doane glanced up; then, too, looked away. There 
 could be no question now of the girl's deeper feeling. 
 She was determined. Her tone was honest and forth- 
 right, with the unthinking courage of youth. It would 
 be her father, of course. ... 
 
 But his mind had gone blank. He knew not what 
 to think or say. 
 
 "Please!" she murmured. "There is no one else. 
 You mus' help us. Tell me father will be coming 
 back." 
 
 And then Griggsby Doane heard his own voice 
 saying quietly : "The boat deck is the only place. You 
 will find a sort of ladder near the stern. If you can " 
 
 "I will go up there." 
 
 "It will be only just after midnight that I could 
 arrange to be there." 
 
 His excellency returned then. And Doane took 
 his leave. He had been but a few moments in his own 
 cabin when two lictors of his excellency's suite 
 appeared, each with a lacquered tray, on one of which 
 was a small chest of tea, wrapped in red paper lettered 
 in gold and bearing the seal stamp of the private estate 
 of Kang Yu, on the other an object of more than a 
 foot in height carefully wound about with cotton cloth. 
 
 Doane dismissed the lictors with a Mexican dollar 
 each and unwrapped the larger object, which the ser-
 
 62 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 vant had placed with great care on his berth. It 
 proved to be a pi, a disk of carven jade, in color a 
 perfect specimen of the pure greenish-white tint that 
 is so highly prized by Chinese collectors. The diame- 
 ter was hardly less than ten inches, and the actual 
 width of the stone from the circular inner opening to 
 the outer rim about four inches. It stood on edge set 
 in a pedestal of blackwood, the carving of which was 
 of unusual delicacy. The pedestal was, naturally, 
 modern, but Doane, with a mounting pulse, studied the 
 designs cut into the stone itself. That cutting had 
 been done not later than the Han Dynasty, certainly 
 within two hundred years of the birth of Christ.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 INTRIGUE 
 
 "PHE Yen Hsm would arrive at Kiu Kiang by mid- 
 afternoon. Half an hour earlier, Doane, on the 
 lower deck, came upon a group of his excellency's sol- 
 diers brown deep-chested men, picturesque in their 
 loose blue trousers bound in above the ankles and their 
 blue turbans and gray cartridge belts conversing 
 excitedly in whispers behind the stack of coffins near 
 the stern. At sight of him they broke up and slipped 
 away. 
 
 A moment later, passing forward along the corri- 
 dor beside the engine room, he heard his name: "Mr. 
 Doane! If you please!" This in English. 
 
 He turned. Just within the doorway of one of the 
 low-priced cabins stood a pedler he had observed about 
 the lower decks ; a thin Chinese with an overbred head 
 that was shaped, beneath the cap, like a skull without 
 flesh upon it; the eyes concealed behind smoked 
 glasses. 
 
 "May I have a word with you, Mr. Doane?" 
 
 The mate considered; then, stooping, entered the 
 tiny cabin. The pedler closed the door; quietly shot 
 
 63
 
 64 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 the bolt ; then removed his cap and the queue with it, 
 exposing a full head of stubbly black hair, trimmed, 
 as is said, pompadour. The glasses came off next; 
 discovering wide alert eyes. And now, without the 
 cap, the head, despite the hair and the seriously intel- 
 lectual face, looked, balanced on its thin neck, more 
 than ever like a skull. 
 
 "You will not know of me, Mr. Doane. I am Sun 
 Shi-pi of Shanghai. I was attached, as interpreter, to 
 the yamen of the tao-tai. I left his service some 
 months ago to join the republican revolutionary party. 
 I was arrested shortly after that at Nanking and con- 
 demned to death, but his excellency, the viceroy " 
 
 "Kang?" 
 
 "Yes. He is on this boat. He released me on con- 
 dition that I go to Japan. I kept my word to that 
 extent; I went to Japan but I could not keep my 
 word in spirit. My life is consecrated to the cause of 
 the Chinese Republic. Nothing else matters. I 
 returned to Shanghai, and was made commander 
 there of the 'Dare-to-dies.' You did not know of 
 such an organization? You will, then, before the 
 winter is gone. We shall be heard from. There are 
 other such companies at Canton, at Wuchang at 
 Nanking at every center." 
 
 Doane seated himself on the narrow couch and 
 studied the quietly eager young man. 
 
 "You speak English with remarkable ease," he 
 said.
 
 INTRIGUE 65 
 
 "Oh, yes. I studied at Chicago University. And 
 at Tokio University I took post-graduate work." 
 
 "And you are frank." 
 
 "I can trust you. You are known to us, Mr. 
 Doane. Wu Ting Fang trusts you and Sun Yat 
 Sen, our leader, he knows and trusts you." 
 
 "I did know Sun Yat Sen, when he was a medical 
 student." 
 
 "He knows you well. He has mentioned your 
 name to us. That is w r hy I am speaking to you. 
 America is with us. We can trust Americans." 
 
 Doane's mind was ranging swiftly about the situa- 
 tion. "You are running a risk," he said. 
 
 Sun Shi-pi shrugged his shoulders. "I shall 
 hardly survive the revolution. That is not expected 
 among the 'Dare-to-dies.' ' 
 
 "If his excellency's soldiers find you here they will 
 kill you now." 
 
 "The officers would, of course. Many of the sol- 
 diers are with us. Anyway, it doesn't matter." 
 
 "What is your errand?" 
 
 "I will tell you. The revolution, as you doubtless 
 know, is fully planned." 
 
 "I've assumed so. There has been so much talk. 
 And then, of course, the outbreak in Szechuen." 
 
 "That was premature. It was the plan to strike 
 in the spring. This fighting in Szechuen has caused 
 much confusion. Sun Yat Sen is in America. He is 
 going to England, and can hardly reach China within 
 two months. He will bring money enough for all our
 
 66 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 needs. He is the organizer, the directing genius of 
 the new republic. But the Szechuen outbreak has set 
 all the young hotheads afire." 
 
 "I am told that the throne has sent Tuan Fang 
 out there to put down the disturbance. But we have 
 had no news lately." 
 
 "That is because the wires are cut. Tuan Fang 
 will never come back. We will pay five thousand 
 taels, cash, to the bearer of his head, and ask no ques- 
 tions. We must exterminate the Manchus. It has 
 finally come down to that. It is the only way out. 
 But we must pull together. Did you know that the 
 Wu Chang republicans plan to strike at once?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "I have been sent there to tell them to wait. That 
 is our gravest danger now. If we pull together we 
 shall win. If our emotions run away with our 
 judgment " 
 
 "The throne will defeat your forces piecemeal and 
 destroy your morale." 
 
 "Exactly. My one fear is that I may not reach 
 Wu Chang in time. But" with a careless gesture 
 "that is as it may be. I will tell you now why I 
 spoke to you. We need you. Our organization is 
 incomplete as yet, naturally. One matter of the great- 
 est importance is that our spirit be understood from 
 the first by foreign countries. There is an enormous 
 task diplomatic publicity, you might call it which 
 you, Mr. Doane, are peculiarly fitted to undertake. 
 You know both China and the West. You are a philos-
 
 INTRIGUE 67 
 
 opher of mature judgment. You would work in asso- 
 ciation with Doctor Wu Ting Fang at our Shanghai 
 offices. There will be money. Will you consider 
 this?" 
 
 "It is a wholly new thought," Doane replied 
 slowly. "I should have to give it very serious 
 consideration." 
 
 "But you are in sympathy with our aims ?" 
 
 "In a general way, certainly. Even though I may 
 not share your optimism." 
 
 "On your return to Shanghai, would you be willing 
 to call at once on Doctor Wu and discuss the matter?" 
 
 "Yes .... Yes, I will do that. I must leave you 
 now. We are nearly at Kiu Kiang." 
 
 Sun, glancing out the window, raised his hand. 
 Doane looked ; two small German cruisers, the kaiser's 
 flag at the taff, were steaming up-stream. 
 
 "They know," murmured Sun, with meaning. "I 
 wish to God I could find their means of information. 
 They all know. From the Japanese in particular 
 nothing seems to be hidden. Two or three of your 
 American war-ships are already up there. And the 
 English, naturally, in force/' 
 
 "They must be on hand to protect the foreign 
 colony at Hankow. The Szechuen trouble would 
 justify such a move.'* 
 
 But Sun shook his head. "They know," he 
 repeated. Then he clasped Doane's hand. "However 
 .... that is a detail. It is now war. You will find 
 events marching fast faster, I fear, than we republi-
 
 68 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 cans wish. Good-by now. You will call on Doctor 
 Wu." 
 
 2 
 
 The steamer moved slowly in toward the landing 
 hulk. Doane, from the boat deck, by the after bell 
 pull, gazed across at the park-like foreign bund, with 
 its embankment of masonry and its trees. Behind lay, 
 compactly, the walled city. Everything looked as it 
 had always looked the curious crowd along the rail- 
 ing, the water carriers passing down and up the steps, 
 the eager shouting swarm of water beggars. Below, 
 the coolies swung out from the hulk, ready to make 
 their usual breakneck leap over green water to the 
 approaching steamer. Now they were jumping. The 
 passengers were leaning out from the promenade deck 
 to watch and applaud .... Doane's thoughts, as he 
 went mechanically through his familiar duties, wan- 
 dered off inland, past the battlements and towers of 
 the ancient city to the thousands of other ancient cities 
 and villages and farmsteads beyond ; and he wondered 
 if the scores of millions of lethargic minds in all 
 those centers of population could really be awakened 
 from their sleep of six hundred years and stirred into 
 action. 
 
 Could a republic, he asked himself, possibly mean 
 anything real to those minds? The habit of mere 
 endurance, of bare existence, was so deep-seated, the 
 struggle to live so intense, the opportunity so slight. 
 Sun Shi-pi and his kind were a semi-Western
 
 INTRIGUE 69 
 
 product. They were, when all was said and done, an 
 exotic breed. They were the ardent, adventurous 
 young; and they were the few. There had always 
 been a throne in China, always extortionate mandarins, 
 always a popular acceptance of conditions. 
 
 The lines were out now. And suddenly a blue-clad 
 soldier climbed over the rail, below, balanced along 
 the stern hawser, leaped to the hulk, and was about to 
 disappear among the coolies there when a rifle-shot 
 cracked and he fell. He seemed to fall, if anything, 
 slightly before the shot. Another soldier, following 
 close, was caught by a second shot as he was balancing 
 on the hawser, and spun headlong into the water where 
 the propeller still churned. 
 
 A few moments later, when Doane moved among 
 the passengers, it became clear that they knew nothing 
 of the casual tragedy astern. They were all pressing 
 ashore for a walk in the native city, eager to buy 
 the worked silver that is traditionally sold there. 
 The slim girl in the middy blouse had apparently cap- 
 tured young Rocky Kane ; they strolled off across the 
 bund together. But Dawley Kane remained aboard, 
 stretched out comfortably in a deck chair, listening 
 thoughtfully to the stocky little Japanese, one Kato, 
 who was by now generally known to be his alter ego 
 in the matter of buying objects of Oriental art. 
 
 None of these folk knew or cared about China. 
 Excepting this Kato. Him Doane was continually 
 encountering below decks, chatting smilingly in 
 Chinese with the good-natured soldiers. His work
 
 70 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 along the river, doubtless, ranged over a wider field 
 than his present employer would ever learn. It would 
 be interesting, now, to know what he was saying, 
 talking so rapidly and always, of course, smiling. . . . 
 The rest of this upper-deck white man's existence 
 Doane dismissed from his mind as he went about his 
 work. It was all too familiar. Though later he 
 thought of Rocky Kane. The boy, wild though he 
 might be, had attractive qualities. It was not pleasant 
 to see that girl get her hands on him. Just one more 
 evil influence. 
 
 He thought, at this juncture, of the the word 
 came appalling change in himself. That he, once a 
 fervid missionary, could stand back like a sophisti- 
 cated European, and let the wandering and vicious and 
 broken human creatures about him go their various 
 ways, as might be, was disturbing, was even sadden- 
 ing. Something apparently had died in him. Sun had 
 called him a philosopher. The Oriental, of course, 
 even the blazing revolutionist, admired this passive 
 quality, this fatalistic acceptance of the fact. He 
 sighed. To be a philosopher was, then, to be emo- 
 tionally dead. The church had been taken out of his 
 life, leaving nothing. A mate on a river steamer, in 
 China. Life had gone quite topsy-turvey. Even the 
 amazing courtesy of his excellency it was that, when 
 you considered and this profound compliment from 
 the revolutionary junta seemed but incidents. Too 
 many promises had smiled at Doane, these years of 
 his spiritual Odyssey smiled and faded to nothing
 
 INTRIGUE 71 
 
 to permit an easy hope of anything new and beautiful. 
 He was beginning to believe that a man can not build 
 and live two lives. And he had built and lived one. 
 
 Captain Benjamin found him; a dogged little cap- 
 tain with dull fright in his eyes. "It's happened," he 
 said, trying desperately to attain an offhand manner. 
 "Company wire. They're fighting at Wu Chang. 
 What do you know about that !" 
 
 Doane was silent. It was extraordinarily diffi- 
 cult, here by this calm old city, on a sunny afternoon, 
 to believe that it was, as Sun had put it, war. 
 
 "We're to tie up," the captain went on, "until 
 further orders. The foreign concessions at Hankow 
 were safe enough this noon, but with an artillery battle 
 just across the river, and an imperial army moving 
 down from the north over the railway, they stand a 
 lot of show, they do." 
 
 "I wonder if they'll send us on." 
 
 "What difference will it make?" The captain's 
 voice was rising. "You know as well as I do that 
 they'll be fighting at Nanking before we could get 
 back there. Here, too, for that matter. I tell you 
 the whole river 5 !! be ablaze by to-morrow. Thisbloody 
 old river! And us on a Manchu-owned boat! A lot 
 o' chance we stand." 
 
 3 
 
 The sight-seers strolled across the shady bund, 
 passed a stone residence or two and a warehouse, and 
 made their way through the tunneled gateway in the
 
 72 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 massive city wall. Little Miss Andrews was escorted 
 by young Mr. Braker. Miss Means walked with one 
 of the customs men. Two or three others of the men 
 wandered on ahead. Rocky Kane and the thin girl 
 in the middy blouse brought up the rear. 
 
 As they entered the crowded city within the wall 
 a babel of sound assailed their ears the beating of 
 drums and gongs, clanging cymbals, a musket shot or 
 two, fire-crackers; and underlying these, rising even 
 above them, never slackening, a continuous roar of 
 voices. The teachers paused in alarm, but the customs 
 man smilingly assured them that in a busy Chinese city 
 the noise was to be taken for granted. 
 
 Nearly every shop along the way was open to the 
 street, and at each opening men swarmed bargaining, 
 chaffering, quarreling. The only women to be seen 
 were those in black trousers on a wheelbarrow that 
 pushed briskly through the crowds, the barrow man 
 shouting musically as he shuffled along. Beggars 
 wailed from the niches between the buildings. Dogs 
 snarled and barked hundreds of dogs, fighting over 
 scraps of offal among the hundreds of nearly naked 
 children. 
 
 A mandarin came through in a chair of green 
 lacquer and rich gold ornament, supercilious, fat, car- 
 ried by four bearers and followed by imposing officials 
 who wore robes of black and red and hats with red 
 plumes. As the street was a scant ten feet in width 
 and the crowds must flatten against the walls to make 
 way the roar grew louder and higher in pitch.
 
 INTRIGUE 73 
 
 There were shops with nothing but oils in huge 
 jars of earthenware or in wicker baskets lined with 
 stout paper. There were tea shops with high pyramids 
 of the familiar red-and-gold parcels, and other pyra- 
 mids of the brick tea that is carried on camel back to 
 Russia. There were the shops of the idol makers, and 
 others where were displayed the carven animals and 
 the houses and carts and implements that are burned 
 in ancestor worship, and the tinsel shoes. There were 
 shops where remarkably large coffins were piled in 
 square heaps, some of glistening lacquer with the ideo- 
 graph characters carven or embossed in new gold. 
 There were varnishers, lacquerers, tobacconists; open 
 eating houses in which could be seen rows of pans set 
 into brickwork. There were displays of bean cakes, 
 melon seeds and curious drugs. 
 
 Two Manchu soldiers sauntered by, in uniforms of 
 red and faded blue; fans stuck in their belts and 
 painted paper umbrellas folded in their hands. One 
 bore a hooded falcon on his wrist. 
 
 Miss Andrews sniffed the penetrating odor of all 
 China, that was spiced just here with smells of garlic 
 cooking and frying fish and pork and strong oils and 
 like the perfume of a dainty lady amid the complex 
 odors of a French theater an unexpected whiff of 
 burning incense. She looked up between the high 
 walls, on which hung, close together, the long elab- 
 orate signs of the tradesmen, black and green and red 
 with gold, always the gold. Across the narrow open- 
 ing from roof to roof, extended a bamboo framework
 
 74 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 over which was drawn coarse yellow matting or blue 
 cotton cloths; and through these the sunbeams, dif- 
 fused, glowed in a warm twilight, with here and there 
 a chance ray slanting down with dazzling brightness 
 on a golden sign character. 
 
 "It's all rather terrifying," murmured Miss 
 Andrews, at Braker's ear, "but it's beautiful wonder- 
 ful! I never dreamed of China being so human and 
 real." 
 
 "And to think," said he eagerly, "that it has always 
 been like this, and always will be. It was just so in 
 the days of Abraham and Isaac. The one people in 
 the world that doesn't change. It's their whole phi- 
 losophy passive non-resistance, peace. And -do you 
 know, I'm beginning to wonder if they aren't right 
 about it. For here they are, you know. Greece is 
 dead. Rome's dead. And Assyria, and Egypt. But 
 here they are. It's their philosophy that's done it, I 
 suppose. Almost be worth while to come out here and 
 live a while, when our part of the world gets too upset. 
 Just for a sense of stability somewhere." 
 
 These two young persons, dreaming of stability 
 while the earth prepared to rock beneath their feet ! 
 
 Rocky Kane and the slim girl had dropped out of 
 sight, lingering at this shop and that. The party later 
 found them at a silversmith's counter. They had 
 bought a heap of the silver dragon-boxes and 
 cigarette cases; and then devised a fresh little idea in 
 gambling, weighing ten Chinese dollars against other 
 ten in the balanced scales, the heavier lot winning.
 
 INTRIGUE 75 
 
 Young Kane had got through his clothing, somehow, 
 there in the street, to his money belt, for he held it now 
 carelessly rolled in one hand. He was flushed, laugh- 
 ing softly. He and the thin girl were getting on. 
 
 "Come along, you two," remarked the customs 
 man. "We stop only two hours here." 
 
 The young couple, gathering up their purchases 
 and the heaps of silver dollars, slowly followed. 
 
 "That was great!" exclaimed Rocky Kane. The 
 thin girl, he had decided, was a good fellow. She 
 was always quiet, discreet, attractive. In her curiously 
 unobtrusive way she seemed to know everything. 
 The face was cold in . appearance. Yet she was dis- 
 tinctly friendly. Made you feel that nothing you might 
 say could disturb or shock her. He wondered what 
 could be going on behind those pale quiet eyes, behind 
 the thin lips. The men had remarked on the fact 
 that she was traveling alone. She was a provocative 
 person the curiously youthful costume ; the black hair 
 gathered at the neck and tied, girlishly, with a bow 
 really an exciting person. The way she had taken 
 that little scene out on deck with the gorgeous Chinese 
 girl Rocky knew nothing of the distinctions between 
 the Asiatic peoples who spoke English ; quite as a 
 matter of course. Though she took everything that 
 way. This little gambling, for instance. She loved 
 it was quick at it. 
 
 "I'm wondering about you," he said, as they wan- 
 dered along. "Wondering you know why you're 
 traveling this way. Have you got folks up the river ?"
 
 76 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "Oh, no," she replied never in his life had he 
 known such self-control; there wasn't even color in her 
 voice, just that easy quiet way, that sense of giving 
 out no vitality whatever. "Oh, no. I have some 
 business at Hankow and Peking-." 
 
 That was all she said. The subject was closed. 
 And yet, she hadn't minded his asking. She was still 
 friendly; he felt that. His feelings rose. He giggled 
 softly. 
 
 "Lord!" he said, "if only the pater wasn't along!" 
 
 "Does he hold you down?" 
 
 "Does he? Brought me out here to discipline me. 
 Trying to make me go back to college make a grind 
 of me.... I was just thinking here's a nice girl to 
 play with, and plenty of fun around, and not a thing 
 to drink. He gave me fits at Shanghai because I took 
 a few drinks." 
 
 "You have the other stuff," said she. He turned 
 nervously ; stared at her. But she remained as calmly 
 unresponsive as ever. Merely explained : "I smelt it, 
 outside your cabin. You ought to be careful shut 
 your window tight when you smoke it." 
 
 He held his breath a moment; then realized, with 
 an uprush of feeling warmer than any he had felt 
 before, that he had her sympathy. She would never 
 tell, never in the world. That big mate might, but 
 she wouldn't. 
 
 She added this: "I can give you a drink. Wait 
 until things settle down on the boat and come to my 
 cabin number four. Just be sure there's no one in
 
 INTRIGUE 77 
 
 the corridor. And don't knock. The door will be 
 ajar. Step right in. Do you like sake?" 
 
 "Do I say, you're great! You're wonderful. I 
 never knew a girl like you!" 
 
 She took this little outbreak, as she had taken all 
 his others, without even a smile. It was, he felt, as if 
 they had always known each other. They understood 
 perfectly. 
 
 If he had been told, then, that this girl had been 
 during two or three vivid years one of the most con- 
 spicuous underworld characters along the coast that 
 coast where the underworld was still, at the time of 
 our narrative, openly part of what small white world 
 there was out here a gambler and blackmailer of 
 what would very nearly have to be called attainment 
 he would have found belief impossible, would have 
 defended her with the blind impulsiveness of youth. 
 
 4 
 
 It was said that the steamer would not proceed at 
 the scheduled hour, might be delayed until night. 
 Disgruntled white passengers settled down, in berth 
 and deck chair, to make the best of it. There was, it 
 came vaguely to light, a little trouble up the river; an 
 outbreak of some sort. 
 
 Rocky Kane, a flush below his temples, slipped 
 stealthily along the corridor. At number four he 
 paused; glanced nervously about; then, grinning, 
 pushed open the door and softly closed it behind him.
 
 78 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 The strange thin Miss Carmichael was combing out her 
 black hair. With a confused little laugh he extended 
 his arms. But she shook her head. 
 
 "Sit down and be sensible/' she said. "Here's the 
 sake." 
 
 She produced a bottle and poured a small drink 
 into a large glass. He gulped it down. 
 
 "Aren't you drinking with me?" he asked. 
 
 "I never take anything." 
 
 "You're a funny girl. How'd you come to have 
 this?" 
 
 "It was given to me. You'd better slip along. I 
 can't ask you to stay." 
 
 "But when am I going to see you, for a good 
 visit?" 
 
 "Oh, there'll be chances enough. Here we are." 
 
 "That's so. Looks as if we'd stay here a while, 
 too. There's a battle on, you know, up at Wu Chang 
 and Hankow. Big row. We get all the news from 
 Kato. He's that Japanese that father has with him. 
 The revolutionists have captured Wu Chang, and are 
 getting ready to cross over. The imperial army's 
 being rushed down to defend Hankow. Regular 
 doings. Shells were falling in the foreign concessions 
 this morning. Kato's got all the news there is. It's 
 a question whether we'll go on at all. You see the 
 Manchus own this boat, and the republicans would 
 certainly get after us. There are enough foreign war- 
 ships up there to protect us, of course .... How about 
 another drink?"
 
 INTRIGUE 79 
 
 "Better not. Your father will notice it." 
 
 "He won't know where I got it." Rocky chuckled. 
 He felt himself an adventurous and quite manly old 
 devil here in the mysterious girl's cabin, watching 
 her as she smoothed and tied her flowing hair, and 
 sipping the potent liquor from Japan. "It's funny 
 nothing seems to surprise you. Did you know they 
 were fighting up there?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Wouldn't you be a little frightened if we were to 
 steam right into a battle?" 
 
 "I shouldn't enjoy it particularly." 
 
 "Aren't you even interested? Is there anything 
 you're interested in?" 
 
 "Certainly I have my interests. You must go 
 really .... No, be quiet ! Some one will hear ! We 
 can visit to-night out on deck." 
 
 "But you're I don't understand! Here we are 
 like this and you shoo me out. I don't even know 
 your first name." 
 
 "My name is Dixie but I don't want you to call 
 me that." 
 
 "Why not? We're friends, aren't we " 
 
 "Of course, but they'd hear you." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 "Wait I'll look before you go .... It's all clear 
 now." 
 
 They visited long after dinner. He was brimming 
 with later advices from the center of trouble up the 
 river. Mostly she listened, studying him with a mind
 
 8o IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 that was keener and quicker and shrewder in its sordid 
 wisdom than he would perhaps ever understand. 
 
 Everything that Kato had told his father and him- 
 self he passed eagerly on to her. He was a man 
 indeed now; making an enormous impression; posses- 
 sor of inside information of a vital sort the viceroy's 
 priceless collection of jewels, jades, porcelains and 
 historic paintings, which Kato was advising his father 
 to pick up for a song while red revolution raged about 
 the old Manchu, the dramatic plans of the republicans, 
 their emblems and a pass-word (Kato knew every- 
 thing) "Shui-li" "union is strength"; the small 
 meeting below decks ending in the death of two sol- 
 diers. He dramatized this last as he related it. 
 
 The girl, lying still in her chair, listened as if but 
 casually interested, while her mind gathered and related 
 to one another the probable facts beneath his words. 
 She was considering his dominant quality of ungov- 
 erned hot-blooded youth. Of discretion he clearly 
 enough had none ; which fact, viewed from her stand- 
 point, was both important and dangerous. For the 
 information he so volubly conveyed she had immediate 
 use. That was settled, however cloudy the details. 
 But this further question as to the advisability of hold- 
 ing the boy personally to herself she was still weighing. 
 Two courses of action lay before her, each leading to a 
 possible rich prize. If the two could be combined, well 
 and good; she would pursue both. But it was not 
 easy to sense out a possible combination. The obvious 
 first thought was to go whole-heartedly after the
 
 INTRIGUE 81 
 
 larger of the prizes and as whole-heartedly forget the 
 other. As usual in all such choices, however, the lesser 
 prize was the easier to secure. Perhaps, even, by 
 working- the word "working" was her own with 
 great rapidity she might make again her word a 
 killing with this wild youth in time to discard him 
 and pursue the still richer prize. 
 
 Because he was, at least, the bird in hand, she sub- 
 mitted passively when his fingers found hers under 
 the steamer rug. Twilight was thickening into night 
 now on the river. And they were in a dim corner. 
 He was, she saw, at the point of almost utter disor- 
 ganization. He was sensitive, emotional, quite spoiled. 
 It was almost too easy to do what she might choose 
 with him. It would be amusing to tantalize him, if 
 there were time; watch him struggle in the net of his 
 own nervously unripe emotions, perhaps shake him 
 down (we are yet again dropping into her phrase- 
 ology) without the surrender of a quid pro quo. That 
 would please her sense of cool sharp power. But he 
 might in that event, like the young naval officer down 
 at Hong Kong, shoot himself; which wouldn't do. 
 No, nothing in that! 
 
 This other larger matter, now, was a problem 
 indeed; really, as yet, only a haze in her sensitive, 
 strangely gifted mind. It put to the test at once her 
 imagination, her instinct for dangerous enterprise, her 
 skill at organizing the sluggish minds of others. It 
 would mean dangerous and intense activity. 
 
 She asked, in a careless manner, where the viceroy
 
 82 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 kept his treasures ; and fixed in her mind the place he 
 named Huang Chau. 
 
 The fool was squeezing her fingers now; unques- 
 tionably building in his ungoverned brain an extrava- 
 gant image of herself; an image wrapped in veils of 
 somewhat tarnished but certainly boyish innocence, 
 sentimentalized, curiously less interesting than the 
 complicated wickedness and intrigue of actual human 
 life as it presented itself to her. 
 
 When he tried to kiss her she left him. But lin- 
 gered to listen to his proposal that she should follow 
 him to his own cabin ; smiled enigmatically in the dusk 
 beneath the deck light; humming lightly, pleasingly, 
 she moved away; turned to watch him bolting for his 
 room. 
 
 5 
 
 She strolled around the deck then. Apparently 
 none other was sitting out. The teachers and the 
 young men were spending the evening, she knew, with 
 Dawley Kane at the consulate. Rocky had got out of 
 that. Tex Connor was in his cabin; reading, doubt- 
 less, with his one good eye. For rough as he might 
 be, this gambler and promoter of boxing and wrestling 
 reveled secretly in love stories. He read them by the 
 hundred, the old-fashioned paper-covered romances 
 and tales of adventure. A pretty able man, Tex; 
 useful in certain sorts of undertakings ; certainly useful 
 now; but with that curious romantic strain a weak- 
 ness, she felt. And a difficult man, strong, arrogant,
 
 INTRIGUE 83 
 
 leaning on crude power and threats where she leaned 
 on delicately adjusted intrigue. Had Tex known bet- 
 ter how to cover his various trails he would be in New 
 York or London now, not out here on the coast pick- 
 ing up small change. Approaching him would be a 
 bit of a problem ; for a year or so their ways, hers and 
 his, had lain far apart. It was not known, here on 
 the boat, that they were so much as casually acquainted. 
 They bowed at the dining table ; nothing more. 
 
 The Manila Kid was in the social hall, rummaging 
 through the shelf of battered and scratched records 
 above the talking machine. A quaint spirit, the Kid ; 
 weak, oddly useless, gloomily devoted to music of a 
 simple sort, quite without enterprise. But. . . .by this 
 time the delicate steel machinery of her mind was func- 
 tioning clearly. . . .he would serve now, if only as a 
 means of solving that first little problem of interest- 
 ing Tex. 
 
 She paused in the doorway; caught his furtive 
 eye, and with a slight beckoning movement of her 
 head, moved back into the comparative darkness. 
 Slowly thick-headedly of course he came out. 
 
 "Jim," she said, "I'm wondering if you and Tex 
 wouldn't like to pick up a little money." 
 
 "What do you think we are?" he replied in a 
 guarded sulky voice. "Tex dropped three thousand at 
 that fight. There's no talking to him. He's rough 
 that's what he is." 
 
 "Jim " she considered the man before her delib-
 
 84 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 erately; his lank spineless figure, his characterless, 
 hatchet face: "Jim, send Tex to me." 
 
 "Why should I, Dix? Answer me that." 
 
 "Don't act up, Jim. I've never handed you any- 
 thing that wasn't more than coming to you. I know 
 all about you, Jim. Everything! I'm not talking 
 but I know. This is a big proposition I've got in 
 mind, and you'll get your share, if you come in and 
 stick with me? How about half a million in jewels?" 
 
 "I don't know's Tex would care to go in for any- 
 thing like that. If it's a yegg job " 
 
 "I'm not a yegg," she replied crisply. "Ask Tex 
 to slip around here. I don't want to talk on that side 
 of the deck." 
 
 "I suppose you wouldn't like young Kane to know 
 what you are er?" 
 
 "That sort of talk won't get you anywhere, Jim." 
 
 "Well I've got eyes, you know." 
 
 "Better learn how to use them. You hurry around 
 to Tex's cabin. We may have to move quickly." 
 
 Sulkily the Kid went; and shortly returned. 
 
 "Well" this after a silence "what did he say? 
 Is he coming?" 
 
 "He wants you to go around there to his 
 stateroom." 
 
 "I won't do that. He's got to come here." 
 
 This decision lightened somewhat the gloom on 
 the Kid's saturnine countenance. He went again, 
 more briskly. 
 
 The girl slipped into her own cabin and consulted
 
 INTRIGUE 85 
 
 a folding map of China she had there. Huang Chau 
 she measured roughly from the scale with her thumb 
 would be seventy or eighty miles up-stream from 
 Kiu Kiang here, perhaps thirty-five down-stream 
 from Hankow. 
 
 Tex was chewing a cigar by the rail. At her step 
 his round impassive face turned toward her. 
 
 She said, "Hello, Tex!" 
 
 He replied, his one eye fixed on her: "Well, what 
 is this job?" 
 
 "Listen, Tex are you game for a big one?" 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "The revolution's broken out at Hankow or 
 across at Wu Chang " 
 
 "Yes, I know!" 
 
 "There's going to be another big battle near 
 Hankow. The republicans are moving over. Sure to 
 be a mix-up." 
 
 "Oh, yes!" 
 
 "There'll be loot" 
 
 "Oh, that!" 
 
 "Wait! I know where there's a collection of 
 jewels diamonds, pearls, rubies, emeralds all 
 kinds." 
 
 "Do you know how to get it?" 
 
 "Yes. It's a big thing. We'd be selling stones for 
 years in America and Europe. Will you go in with 
 'me, fifty-fifty?" 
 
 "What's the risk?" 
 
 "Not much with things so confused. Looks to
 
 86 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 me like one of those chances that just happens once 
 in a hundred years. Take some imagination and 
 nerve." 
 
 "Where is this stuff?" 
 
 "I'll tell you when we get there. You'll have to 
 trust me about that. I've never lied to you, and you 
 have lied to me." 
 
 "But" 
 
 "Listen ! Here's the idea. There's a lot of nerv- 
 ous soldiers on this boat that wouldn't mind a little 
 loot on their own. Here's your boxer what's his 
 name ?" 
 
 "Tom Sung." Connor's eye never left her face; 
 and she, on her part, never flinched. 
 
 "To those soldiers he's the biggest man on earth. 
 He wouldn't mind a little clean-up, either. Oh, there's 
 enough, Tex plenty! You see what I'm getting at. 
 With your Tom for a leader you can pick up a few 
 of those soldiers, enough to get away clean " 
 
 "But they're shooting 'em!" 
 
 "They shot two. They'd have trouble shooting 
 forty. Make Tom do the work right now, to-night, 
 while we're lying up here. They'll follow him; and 
 you won't have to stand back of him if he's caught. 
 He'll just be one of the rebels then. .,. .Get this right, 
 Tex! It's a real chance. You'll never get another 
 like it. With the soldiers we can get a launch hire 
 it, even, if you want to play safe and go right up 
 there and get the stuff. Nobody'll ever know it wasn't 
 just a case of soldiers on the loose."
 
 INTRIGUE 87 
 
 "How're you going to get away? They'd know 
 we weren't here, wouldn't they?" 
 
 "Don't try to tell me we couldn't slip out of China, 
 if we had to. This isn't England or America. I don't 
 believe we'd even have to. Just a case of playing it 
 right using your head." 
 
 "Where is this place?" 
 
 "It's there, and I'll take you to it." 
 
 "You'll have to tell me." 
 
 Quietly she moved her head in the negative. He 
 would hardly know that the viceroy was not going on 
 through to Hankow and Peking; she had the informa- 
 tion herself only from Rocky Kane. Nor would he 
 know, by any chance, the situation of his excellency's 
 ancestral home. For Tex was not what they termed 
 a "sinologue"; he knew white men and women and 
 yellow servants, the steamers and railways, the gam- 
 bling clubs and race tracks ; little else. There was then, 
 little reason why he should think of the viceroy at all. 
 
 "It's anything from a million or two up, Tex," she 
 said coolly. "And my information comes straight. 
 I'll prove it by taking the chance with you." 
 
 He shook his head; half turned. "Where is it?" 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 He left her abruptly then. And coolly she watched 
 him go. It would take a little time for Tex's imagina- 
 tion to rise to it; and until the last moment he would 
 try to bluff her down. It was just poker; they had 
 played that game before, she and Tex. Once he had
 
 88 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 robbed her. But not this time not, as she phrased it, 
 if she saw him first. 
 
 The Kid came edging out of the social hall. "Will 
 he do it?" he whispered hoarsely. 
 
 "He says he won't," replied Dixie. 
 
 "Say that's tough! I didn't think Tex would 
 overlook a thing like that. What's the matter?" 
 
 Dixie now considered this curiously useless man. 
 Or useless he had always seemed to her. Now she 
 was not so sure. "He makes it a condition that I tell 
 him where the stuff is." 
 
 "Well Dix, you'd tell him that, wouldn't you?" 
 The Kid was whining. "If you really knew yourself." 
 
 "Of course I won't tell him, Jim. Not yet." 
 
 His eyes sank before hers. He fumbled in a 
 pocket; produced a tiny wrist watch of platinum. 
 "Look here, Dix," he remarked clumsily, "things ain't 
 always been's pleasant as they might be between you 
 and I, but I was wondering if you wouldn't put this 
 on, for old times' sake, like." 
 
 She took the gift, weighed it in her hand. "Thank 
 you, Jim," she replied. "That's awfully nice of you. 
 Though perhaps I'd better not wear it here on the 
 boat." 
 
 "I suppose young Kane might ask questions, eh?" 
 
 "Nothing like that. I'll wear it. Here you snap 
 the catch, Jim." 
 
 "I I might wish it on, Dix, like the kids do." 
 
 "All right. Have you wished?" 
 
 "Sure. Say, Dix, you won't mind the little place
 
 INTRIGUE 89 
 
 where the initials got scratched off inside the back 
 cover. Nobody'll see that." 
 "Surely not," said Dixie. 
 
 At a little after midnight Griggsby Doane mounted 
 to the boat deck and walked quietly aft past the fun- 
 nels and the engine room ventilators. A half moon 
 threw shadows along the bund and among the land- 
 ing hulks and the moored silent sampans, lorchas, 
 junks. The mile-wide river shimmered in a million 
 ripples. 
 
 A slight figure rose from a skylight. 
 
 Hui Fei wore the black jacket and trousers of the 
 lower class Chinese women below decks. Her head 
 was uncovered, and her hair waved prettily down 
 across the wide forehead. She should have oiled it 
 flat, of course, to complete her disguise ; this careless 
 arrangement was charming in the moonlight but was 
 neither Manchu nor Chinese. 
 
 Doane found himself holding her small hand and 
 looking gravely down at her. He even slowly shook 
 his head. "You must tell me quickly what you have to 
 say, Miss Hui. As soon as possible you must go back. 
 This is very unsafe." 
 
 "Oh, yes," she said. "It will not be long. It is 
 ver* har' to say. But I am so alone. There is no one 
 to tell me what I mus' do." 
 
 She plunged bravely into her story. Her informa-
 
 90 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 tion had come from one or another of her maids. And 
 she had overheard gossip among the mandarins. The 
 throne had sent her father the silken cord. She could 
 not discover why. To be sure they called him a secon- 
 dary devil, meaning one who sympathized with the 
 foreigners. The reactionary Manchus at Peking, 
 reveling and plotting within the sacred walls of the 
 Forbidden City, remembered nothing, it appeared, of 
 the recent past. The eunuchs, always the stormy 
 petrels of China's darkest days, were again in power 
 at the palace ; the great empress dowager, she whom all 
 China termed, half-affectionately, "the Old Buddha," 
 had given them their head, and now this new young 
 empress with all the arrogance of the Old Buddha and 
 none of her genius for power or her profound experi- 
 ence, was running wild. And as a consequence, Kang 
 Yu, the statesman who more than any other was 
 equipped to counsel her wisely during this stormy time, 
 was returning to the home of his ancestors to die by his 
 own hand. It would be said at the Forbidden City 
 that a gracious empress dowager had "permitted" him 
 to go. . . .Doane's disturbed thoughts darted back over 
 the bloodstained recent history of Manchu officialdom. 
 The Old Buddha had "permitted" Ch'i Ying, late 
 Manchu Viceroy of Canton, to slay himself; and had 
 graciously extended the same privilege to others after 
 the Boxer trouble of the year 1900, among them an 
 acquaintance of Doane's, Chao Shu-ch'iao. Others she 
 had decapitated Yuan Ch'ang, Li Shan, Controller 
 of the Household, and Hsu Ching, President of the
 
 INTRIGUE 91 
 
 Board of War. She killed, too, Hsu Ching-Ch'eng, 
 who, like Kang, had held the post of minister in more 
 than one of the capitals of Europe. The only known 
 charge against this Hsu was that he had come to 
 admire foreign customs. 
 
 In her narrative the girl spoke only English. Her 
 voice was deep in quality, without heaviness; musical, 
 like most voices among the better-to-do in the Middle 
 Kingdom, Chinese and Manchu alike. And, colored 
 now with deep emotion, it had an appealing quality to 
 which Doane found a response difficult, at the mo- 
 ment, to repress among his own emotions. He 
 sensed, too, with a pleasure that was, in his lonely life, 
 stirring, the naivete of her Western feeling. Standing 
 here in simple native costume, in the heart of old 
 China, gazing wistfully out over the tangled hundreds 
 of sleeping junks and sampans, this girl, freshly out 
 of a Massachusetts college, was pleading against hope 
 that her father might be spared the final jealous ven- 
 geance of the mightiest remaining Oriental throne. 
 
 The China that Doane had so long known, that 
 had, indeed, for better or worse, been woven into the 
 fiber of his being, was turning suddenly incredible. 
 He stared, more intently than he knew, straight down 
 at the slim little figure for beside his own huge frame 
 this tall girl appeared as hardly more than a child 
 at the unadorned face that was softly girlish, at the 
 black hair waving down over the pale forehead, glis- 
 tening in the moonlight. 
 
 "They mean to confisca' " she left off, in her
 
 92 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 eagerness to explain, the final te "all his property. 
 Tell me, Mis'er Doane, can they do that all his 
 property ?" 
 
 He reflected. There would be vast areas of tea- 
 lands and rice lands, almost innumerable shares in 
 these new corporations, the famous collections of jades, 
 paintings, carvings and jewels. Finally he inclined 
 his head. 
 
 "I'm afraid they could. It would be an outrageous 
 act, but the government now, I'm sorry to say, is in 
 outrageous hands. If the empress is determined, as 
 apparently she is, there are ways enough of getting at 
 all his possessions. Even through the banks." His 
 heart was full, his voice tender; but he could not 
 deceive her. He added a question : "Does his excel- 
 lency, your father, know all this?" 
 
 She nodded. "I have tol' him. But I can no' 
 make him see it like me. Oh, we are so differen'. I 
 am, you see, an American girl. I am free here," she 
 laid a pretty hand on her breast. "When I try to 
 think of all these dreadful things of these wicked 
 eunuchs an' the empress who is like thousan' of years 
 ago blin', childish! an' the people who can no' yet 
 see it differen' I get bewilder'. You un'erstan'. You 
 are an American, too. I can speak with you. That 
 is well, because there isn' anybody else I can speak 
 with. An' my father admires you. If you will only 
 speak with him if you will only help me make him 
 think differen'!" 
 
 Doane wondered what he could do, what she imag-
 
 INTRIGUE 93 
 
 ined he could do, without influence or money. He 
 quite forgot, in this matter of influence alone, the 
 significance of the viceroy's courtesy, as of Sun 
 Shi-pi's appeal to him. For a little too long he had 
 been a beaten man. It was becoming dangerously near 
 a habit so to consider himself. And now, to make 
 active clear thinking impossible, emotion flooded his 
 brain. Gently he asked her what she would have 
 him do. 
 
 "My father will no' listen when I speak. He is 
 ver' kind, ver' generous. He has made me an Ameri- 
 can girl. That is one of the things they say is wrong. 
 Even for tha' they attack his good name. But when 
 I ask him no' to do this, no' to die so wrongly, he 
 speaks to me like an ol' Manchu of long ago." 
 
 "He is between the worlds," mused Doane, aloud. 
 
 "Yes, it is that. An' I, perhaps, am between the 
 wort's." 
 
 "And I." 
 
 "But he mus' no* do it! It is so simple! The 
 throne will no' live. Not one year more. I know 
 that. They are fighting now at Wu Chang." 
 
 Doane inclined his head. "I know that, Miss Hui, 
 but the revolution has not yet gone so far that success 
 is sure." 
 
 "But it is sure. The people will everywhere rise. 
 I know it here!" 
 
 "That is my hope, too. But to stir this great land 
 means so much in effort and education. You have 
 changed, yes. Your father has changed. Sun Yat Sen
 
 94 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 was educated in a medical school and has lived in 
 America and England; he has changed. But all 
 China I do not want to dash your hopes, dear Miss 
 Hui, but I fear China is not nearly so far along as you 
 and I would wish." 
 
 "Then even so mus' my father die because a 
 wicked empress has no brains ? It is no' right. Listen, 
 please ! If you, Mis'er Doane, would jus* try to persua' 
 my father! He will listen to you. Oh, if you woul' 
 stay with us, an' help us. We coul' take some money, 
 some jewels, an' escape down the river to Shanghai 
 to Japan, or even America. My father mus' no' 
 die like this. There will be a few servan's we can 
 trus'. You speak to my father, sir, an' he will listen. 
 I know that. He says you have the mind of the ol' 
 philosopher of Lao-tze himself. He said that. An* 
 you have the Western strength that he admires. An' 
 he says you un'erstan' China. Oh, will you speak to 
 him?" 
 
 Doane stared out into the luminous night. This 
 response in his breast to her eager youth frightened 
 him now. He had felt of late that life mattered little; 
 certainly not his own. But youth, and hope, and faith 
 they mattered. 
 
 He took her small hand in his own. His heart 
 was beating high. It was going to be hard now, to 
 control his voice. He was, then, after all the years, 
 the struggles, the beatings, incurably romantic .... 
 Stirred yet by the vibrant pulse of youth that in some 
 men and women never dies. He himself had thought
 
 INTRIGUE 95 
 
 this negative spirit of the past few years a philosophy, 
 but apparently, it was nothing of the sort. Or where 
 was it now ? For he was suddenly all nervously alive, 
 a man of vigor and pride, a man of urgent emotional 
 need .... 
 
 "I will try," he said. 
 
 She clung to his hand. "I have your promise ?" 
 
 He bowed. "I must think. I should not like to 
 fail. There will be time. He will" it was hard to 
 phrase this "he will wait, surely, until he is at home. 
 But you must not stay longer here. And we must not 
 meet again like this. I will try my best to help you." 
 
 It seemed a pitifully inadequate speech. But the 
 wild impulse was upon him to clasp her lovely person 
 in his arms claim her, fight for her, live again a 
 man's life through and for her. It was, he deliberately 
 thought, almost insane in him. A man with nothing to 
 offer, not even the great hope of youth, struggling 
 against an emotion, a hunger, that it was grotesque to 
 indulge. He compressed his lips tightly. 
 
 She seemed breathless. For a moment she pressed 
 her hands to her cheeks and eyes ; then waved to him 
 and went lightly down the ladder.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 RESURGENCE 
 
 HPHE upper-deck passengers awoke in the morning 
 to find the engines still at rest, and the now 
 familiar view of Kiu Kiang still to be seen from port- 
 side windows; the Yen Hsin had merely been moved 
 a hundred yards or so below the landing hulk and 
 anchored. There was grumbling about the breakfast 
 table. The captain did not appear. The huge mate 
 was preoccupied; explaining with grave courtesy that 
 he had no further news. He assumed that orders to 
 proceed to Hankow would be forthcoming during the 
 day. It was understood now that the republican troops 
 were everywhere protecting white folk, and, in any 
 event, the foreign concessions up the river were well 
 guarded by the war-ships. 
 
 The outstanding fact was that they were to spend 
 at least another night on the river. The sensible thing 
 to do, or so decided the younger men, was to have a 
 dance. Accordingly, before tiffin, committees were 
 hard at work planning decorations for the social hall. 
 Miss Means proved a fertile source of entertaining 
 ideas. And it was agreed, during the day, that Miss 
 Andrews had a pretty taste at hanging flags. 
 
 96
 
 RESURGENCE 97 
 
 The Chinese day begins with the light. And little 
 Mr. Kato, sitting smilingly through breakfast, had 
 already passed hours among his below-decks acquaint- 
 ance. After breakfast he sat outside with the Kanes, 
 senior and junior, talking rapidly. There Miss Car- 
 michael observed them; later, when Rocky stood by 
 the rail throwing brass cash down into the crowding, 
 nosing sampans of the water beggars, she strolled his 
 way looking incredibly young carrying a book from 
 the boat's library, a thin finger between the pages as 
 a mark. She smiled at the quarreling beggars below. 
 But he, at sight of her, grew sulky. 
 
 "You didn't come last night," he said, very low, 
 his voice thick with suddenly rising feeling. 
 
 "No, I couldn't. You can't always plan things." 
 
 "Well, you said" 
 
 "Rocky, please ! You mustn't talk like that. We 
 can be seen." 
 
 "Well " he closed his lips. It was the first time 
 she had called him by his name. That seemed some- 
 thing. And she was right ; they must keep up appear- 
 ances. He felt that she was extremely clever; living 
 her own life as a business woman, away out here, doing 
 as she chose, like a man, never losing her head for a 
 moment. Well, he would show her that he could be 
 a sport. 
 
 ''Kato picked up some queer news this morning, 
 prowling around. There's a mutiny brewing below 
 decks. He hasn't got all the facts, yet. He's down 
 there now. It's the viceroy's soldiers. First thing we
 
 98 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 know they'll be blowing up the boat." He was gloomy 
 about it; boyishly turning his heavy burden of self- 
 pity and reproach into the new channel. 
 
 "Well," said she, "we'll all have to take our 
 chances, I suppose," and moved away a step, pausing 
 and balancing gracefully on the balls of her feet and 
 smiling at him. 
 
 "Wait," he muttered "don't go!" 
 
 "It's better. No good in our being seen too much 
 together " 
 
 "Too much?" 
 
 "I'll save you some dances to-night." 
 
 "A lot! All of them!" 
 
 She smiled again at this outburst; said, "We can 
 visit afterward, anyhow," and moved away. 
 
 On the other side of the deck she found the Manila 
 Kid leaning in a doorway, moodily chewing a match. 
 His listless eyes at once sought her wrist. 
 
 "You're not wearing it," he muttered. 
 
 "You know why, Jim." 
 
 "Sure ! Young Kane." 
 
 "Oh, Jim, where are your brains? Don't try to 
 tell me that Tex hasn't seen that watch .... Well, do 
 you want him to know there's something between us 
 just now " 
 
 "I don't know's I" 
 
 Her pale cool eyes swept the deck. Then she leaned 
 beside him; opened her book, then looked out over it 
 at the shipping and the dimpling river beyond ; smiled
 
 RESURGENCE 99 
 
 in her easy way. "Jim, why didn't you tell me that 
 Tex has started this thing without me?" 
 
 "I've been watching for a chance to." 
 
 She considered this. He went on : 
 
 "Look here, Dixie, this is big stuff!" 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 "I've been trying to figure out how we stand. I 
 didn't quite get you last night. Tex and his boy Tom 
 have got a bunch of the soldiers now. But they're 
 moving careful because there's another show been 
 started. One of the regular revolutionary crowd is 
 below there stirring 'em up. Some of 'em are full of 
 this republic idea, want to die for it and all that stuff, 
 and Tex has to move cautious to buy 'em off. Say, 
 what does he want so many for?" 
 
 "The more the better." 
 
 "But how're you going to pay 'em?" 
 
 "Let them loot." 
 
 "But Tex and Tom are promising them part 
 of the real stuff. Jewels." 
 
 "Oh, you'd probably have to promise. But when 
 they get into it, with plenty of loot and liquor and 
 women, it'll be easy enough to get away from them." 
 
 "But how're you going to keep 'em in hand before 
 that? Do you know what some of 'em are whispering 
 around now ? They want to carve up the boat. Come 
 right up here and go through the viceroy's outfit." 
 
 "But he hasn't much stuff here, Jim. We've got 
 bigger game than that."
 
 ioo IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "I know and anyway it'd bring a gunboat down 
 on us. That's what Tex is trying to make Tom see. 
 Tom's in Tex's room now. But my God, Dixie, when 
 I think of what you've started in that offhand way o' 
 yours . . . . " 
 
 "Tex'll hold them down, Jim. That's one good 
 thing about him, he's not weak. You're nervous. Bet- 
 ter go in and help the teachers hang flags. That'll 
 soothe you. You and I mustn't talk any more either. 
 If there's any news for me, better send me a chit by 
 a boy." 
 
 The Kid looked mournfully at her. He was a gro- 
 tesque, this Jim Watson, tall, angular, thin bony face 
 under the tipped-back cap, bald salients running up 
 into his hair on either side the plastered-down front 
 locks. And as he gazed on this wisp of a girl who 
 had slipped mysteriously in among the adroit swindlers 
 and adventuresses of the coast but a few brief years 
 back and had from the very beginning cleverly made 
 her way, his disorganized spirit yearned toward her. 
 She had brains, and used them. She knew how to be 
 nice to a fellow, and the Kid hungered for sympathy. 
 And she was piquantly desirable ; in part because men 
 sought her without success. Except perhaps that 
 young naval officer at Hong Kong, the name of no 
 man had been seriously linked with hers; and the fact 
 that he was an eldest son of one of the richest and 
 greatest families in England in a measure removed 
 the incident beyond the confines of normal human 
 experience. No, the Kid could hardly feel that he
 
 RESURGENCE 101 
 
 ought to resent that. He knew, as he so moodily sur- 
 veyed her, that her sympathy the word was his own 
 could be bought only at a high price. The price, 
 indeed, frightened him. He couldn't think along with 
 Dixie and Tex. Nor could he easily conceive of oppos- 
 ing Tex, for the man was strong and merciless. 
 Still.... 
 
 "See here, Dixie, if I wasn't so fool crazy over you, 
 do you think for a minute I'd let you drag me into this 
 kind of a mix-up? Why, my God! when I got to 
 thinking about it last night the risks you're 
 running " 
 
 "It's big stakes, Jim. You can't expect a million to 
 fall into your lap. Got to play for it Tell me does 
 this Tom Sung understand English ?" 
 
 "Of course ! He was a farm laborer in California, 
 and a cook in the United States Navy. Why?" 
 
 "I may have to talk to him myself before we get 
 through with it." 
 
 "Of course you know Tex means to rob you ?" 
 
 "Of course," said she, smiling a little for the bene- 
 fit of a customs man who appeared up forward. "You 
 run along now, Jim. This is no game for weak nerves. 
 Remember, I need you." 
 
 "Well just this" 
 
 "Careful!" 
 
 " You listen, now! You won't find me getting 
 cold feet " 
 
 "I'm sure of that." 
 
 "And I ain't afraid o' Tex Connor, either! If
 
 102 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 you mean that I've got to go up against him Well, 
 say, look here! If I go through if I do everything 
 you say how're we going to stand, you and me ?" 
 
 "I let you give me the watch, didn't I ?" 
 
 "Well that's all right but I asked you once to go 
 to the Islands with me, and you wouldn't." 
 
 "Not over there. I know too many people." 
 
 "Well, somewhere else, then! Tell me straight, 
 now! If we pull this off shake down a real pile 
 will you go with me?" 
 
 She looked thoughtfully at him for a brief 
 moment; then turned again to the river. "You know 
 I'm fond of you, Jim." 
 
 "It's a trade, Dixie? If I stick to you, you'll 
 stick to me?" 
 
 She considered this; finally, very quietly, barely 
 parting her lips, replied, simply: "Yes." 
 
 He drew in his breath with a whistling sound. 
 
 She added, then : "Careful, Jim ! I know how you 
 feel, but don't let yourself talk." 
 
 "I know, Dix, but my God ! When I think of how 
 you've kept me dancing this year and now " 
 
 "I'll say this, Jim. Just this. If you knew every- 
 thing about Tex Connor " 
 
 "You mean, he's tried to" 
 
 "I mean certain things he's said to me. If you're 
 as fond of me as that you'd understand why I've felt, 
 once or twice, like killing him. That man is a devil, 
 Jim." 
 
 Then she slipped away.
 
 RESURGENCE 103 
 
 Miss Carmichael sat deliberately through tiffing 
 discreetly quiet, as always ; apparently without nerves. 
 The Kid ate rapidly, speaking not a word, seldom 
 looking up from his plate. Tex Connor was calmly 
 wooden, as always, though at intervals Miss Car- 
 michael felt his eye on her as she daintily nibbled her 
 curry. 
 
 After tiffin she was stretched comfortably in her 
 deck chair, reading, or seeming to, when Connor 
 appeared, strolling along the deck, hands deep in 
 pockets, chewing the inevitable Manila cigar. He 
 wore a neat cap, and his large person was clothed in 
 an outing suit of gray flannel. On his feet were shoes 
 of whitened leather with rubber soles. To any but a 
 shrewd student of physiognomy he might have passed 
 for a prosperous American business man or politician 
 of the bluff western sort. 
 
 He paused at her careless nod ; bent his face around 
 and stared coldly at her. Nothing of the real man 
 showed; even his rough vulgarity was concealed 
 behind the mask and the manner. He ought to have 
 a woman to tell him, she thought, that he was alto- 
 gether too stout to wear a Norfolk jacket 
 
 "Sit down?" she asked. 
 
 He dropped into the chair beside her. 
 
 "Looks as if we'd be hung up here till night any- 
 how," he said gruffly. "All foolishness, too. It's 
 safe enough between here and Hankow. The Jardine
 
 104 IN RED ' AND GOLD 
 
 boat came down this morning. And we land at the 
 concessions don't have to go clear up to the city." 
 He drummed on the chair; shifted his cigar. "I can't 
 hang around here. Got to get up to Peking before 
 they close off the railroad." 
 
 She listened quietly to this little tirade; then 
 remarked: "Thought over my proposition, Tex?" 
 
 "What proposition?. . . . Oh, that scheme? Sure, 
 I've thought it over. Nothing in it, Dix." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Too complicated. Did you ever see a lot of sol- 
 diers on the loose their killing blood up? You could 
 never handle 'em in the world." 
 
 "Oh, of course," said she, "if you tried any coarse 
 work. But I wouldn't pin that on you, Tex." 
 
 "It's easy to talk." Connor's voice rose slightly; 
 he noted the fact himself; paused and spoke with 
 greater deliberation. "But I wouldn't tackle a game 
 like that. It ain't practical. Anyhow, Dix, I wouldn't 
 go it blind. I'd have to know where I was going every 
 minute. If you wanted to talk real business, it might 
 be different. I might see a way to start something. 
 
 But even at that" he got heavily to his feet "No, 
 
 thing for me's to stick to my own line." 
 
 He was moving slowly away when Her slow light 
 voice brought him up short. "Tex," she said, "I see 
 you're just a cheap liar, after all." 
 
 Then she watched the color sweep over his face. 
 It was something to stir that wooden countenance with
 
 RESURGENCE 105 
 
 genuine emotion. She even found a perverse thrill 
 in the experience. 
 
 He stood motionless for a long 1 moment. Finally 
 he said, none too steadily : "You know what would 
 happen to a man that said that to me." 
 
 "What would you do ? Shoot ? . . . . Where would 
 that get you ? No, Tex, listen ! Sit down here." 
 
 But he stood over her. 
 
 "I know everything you're doing." 
 
 "Oh you do?" 
 
 "You're crossing me. But you can't get away with 
 it. You know where you are in China ! And you're 
 tampering with the troops of the viceroy of Nanking. 
 My God, Tex, haven't you any brains ? Did you really 
 think I'd show my hand ?" 
 
 He chewed the cigar in silence, staring down. 
 
 "I'll give you your choice," she went on. "You 
 can work with me, fifty-fifty, or I'll have Tom Sung 
 beheaded. And then you'll be out a meal ticket. And 
 all your expenses with Tom up to now. And the 
 three thousand you lost to the Kanes." 
 
 "You don't know what you're talking about! I 
 haven't even seen Tom Sung in twenty- four hours." 
 
 "That's another lie. He was in your room this 
 morning." 
 
 "How do you know that? Say, if Jim Watson's 
 been talking. ..." 
 
 "He hasn't, Tex. I've got my information and 
 there's a lot of it from Kato the Japanese. Go and
 
 io6 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 talk to him, if you like. Or to your friends the 
 Kanes." 
 
 Connor, the color gone from his face now, looked 
 steadily down at her. Slowly he drew from an inner 
 pocket a gold-mounted case of alligator skin and 
 selected a fresh cigar, lighting it on the stump of the 
 old one. Finally he said : 
 
 "Dix, I'm taking some rough talk from you. But 
 never mind now. You say you know where the stuff 
 is, but you won't tell me." 
 
 "Not now. I'll keep that information to trade 
 with, Tex." 
 
 "Well and good. I'll tell you that you can't get 
 it without a little help from me. And you're not going 
 to get it. Tell me where it is, and I'll put it through 
 and split with you. It'll have to be pretty quick, too. 
 If you won't, you don't get your loot. And if you 
 give up my boy Tom " 
 
 "What'll you do, Tex?" She was faintly smiling. 
 
 "Oh, I won't shoot you. I'll protect myself 
 better'n that. But I'll run you off the coast. You'll 
 have turned your last card out here." 
 
 To this she said simply nothing. For a moment 
 her two eyes met his one full. Then he strolled away. 
 And the day passed. 
 
 3 
 
 Doane stood by the rail in the dusk of early evening 
 looking in through the open doorway. The social hall 
 was gay with flags, the dragon of China hung flat
 
 RESURGENCE 107 
 
 over the talking machine with the American and Brit- 
 ish colors draped on either hand. The little teachers 
 had on their brightest and best. Miss Andrews in 
 particular, wore a pink party gown that might have 
 been made by a village dressmaker or, more likely, 
 by herself and flushed prettily as she chatted with 
 young Braker. The men were all in their dinner coats. 
 
 Dixie Carmichael, in the inevitable blue middy 
 blouse, sat quietly reading in a corner. A strange 
 creature, always imperturbably girlish. Doane had 
 observed her casually on the boat and about the Astor 
 House at Shanghai, and despite the curious tales that 
 drifted along the coast already the girl had acquired 
 an almost legendary fame he had never seen her 
 other than discreetly quiet. Men who had observed 
 her on the steamer from Hong Kong after the out- 
 raged British wives as good as drummed her out of 
 town asserted that she exhibited not so much as a 
 ruffle of the nerves. A girl without emotion, appar- 
 ently; certainly without a moral sense. 
 
 She had for a time managed a gambling house on 
 Bubbling Well Road, Shanghai, but this year seemed 
 to be more active up Peking way. At least she had 
 made several trips to the north. There were moments 
 when her thin, nearly expressionless face bore a look 
 of infinite age ; yet she was young. It would be inter- 
 esting, he reflected, to know of her home and her 
 youth, of the remarkable deficiency (or the equally 
 remarkable gift) that had sent her out alone, with her 
 hair down her back, to pit her uncanny quickness of
 
 io8 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 thought and her sordid purpose against the desperately 
 clever rascals of the coast. 
 
 When again he passed the doorway they were 
 dancing a waltz. Dixie and young Kane were 
 together. Miss Means, primmer than ever, moved 
 about with a tall Australian. Braker was with little 
 Miss Andrews. The others of the younger men 
 danced humorously with one another. The Manila 
 Kid stood lankily, gloomily, by the talking machine, 
 sorting records. 
 
 There was a bustling outside the farther door; 
 musical voices; the shimmering of satin in the light; 
 and the viceroy came in, escorting his daughter and 
 attended by all his suite. At the sight of Miss Hui 
 Fei as she appeared in the doorway and stepped lightly 
 over the sill Doane caught his breath. She wore an 
 American costume, a gown of soft material in rose 
 color trimmed with silver, the stockings and little 
 slippers in silver as well. A girl at any college or 
 suburban dance back home might have dressed like 
 that. Her richly black hair was parted on the side; 
 masses of it waved carelessly down over her temples 
 and part of the broad forehead. Her color was high, 
 her eyes were bright. The eagerly Western quality he 
 had sensed in her was dominant now, triumphant as 
 youth can be triumphant. 
 
 Doane, for a moment, pressed a hand to his eyes. 
 He could not relate this radiantly Western girl with 
 the quaintly Oriental figure he had last seen by moon- 
 light on the boat deck. It was difficult, too, to under-
 
 RESURGENCE 109 
 
 stand her bright happiness. Had her insistently mod- 
 ern spirit prevailed over her father's resolve to die? 
 Or was she, after all, carried away by girlishly high 
 spirits at the thought of a party? On the latter pos- 
 sibility Doane set his teeth; it raised thoughts of 
 Oriental fatalism and surface adaptability that he 
 could not face. Surely the girl who had talked so 
 earnestly, who had so clearly exhibited a Western 
 view of her father's predicament, was more than Orien- 
 tal at heart. 
 
 The most deeply sobering thought, of course, was 
 that he should so poignantly care. The mere sight of 
 her thrilled him, shook him. All night and during 
 this day he had been fighting the new shining sense 
 of her in his heart ; it was clear now that the battle was 
 a losing one. It was true, then ; the last broken shards 
 of his elaborately built up, wholly mental philosophy 
 of life had crashed hopelessly about his ears. 
 
 The pity of it seemed to him, even then, to be that 
 he was possessed of such abounding vitality of body 
 and mind. He felt a young man. He was never ill, 
 never even tired. Only accident, he felt, could shorten 
 his life. Certainly he wouldn't take it himself ; he had 
 gone all through that. He would have to go dully on 
 and on ; he was like an engine that is using but a frac- 
 tion of its proper power. He had not known that his 
 need was a woman until he met this woman. To no 
 other, he felt, could he give the rich upwellings of emo- 
 tion in his heart; and vital emotion, he had tragically 
 learned three years earlier, can not be repressed indef-
 
 I io IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 initely. There was a breaking point. . . He was, even 
 now, bringing up favorable arguments. This young 
 woman, as she had admitted, like himself, stood 
 between the worlds. She could never be happy in 
 China; hardly out of it. If.... If.... Thoughts 
 came, bitter thoughts, of his years, of his poverty. 
 The thing had the grip of a demoniac possession. He 
 had seen other men mad over the one woman, and had 
 pitied them ; but now he .... He called himself sav- 
 agely, in his heart, a fool. Yet the wild hopes 
 mounted. 
 
 The waltz was over. The Kid changed the rec- 
 ords and ground the machine. An interpreter left 
 the group of mandarins and spoke with one of the 
 Australians; led the man back to his excellency. A 
 moment later the music sounded again, and the Aus- 
 tralian danced lightly away with Miss Hui Fei in 
 what Doane had no means of knowing was the very 
 new one-step. He had never danced; plainly she 
 loved it. She moved like a fairy light, utterly grace- 
 ful, her oval face, when she turned, flushed a little 
 and soberly radiant. 
 
 Hating the man who held her so close, he turned 
 away. He did not know that his excellency, glimpsing 
 him outside there in the shadows, leaned forward and 
 bowed; he did not observe (or care) that Dixie Car- 
 michael was dancing with the German customs man, 
 while Rocky Kane, suddenly white, lighting one 
 cigarette on another, stood in a corner devouring with 
 his eyes Miss Hui Fei. A little later, when the young
 
 RESURGENCE in 
 
 man spoke, there at his side, he started; for he had 
 heard no one approach. Rocky was hatless; hair 
 rumpled as if he had been running- nervous fingers 
 through it, cheeks deeply flushed, eyes staring rather 
 wildly. He threw his cigarette overboard and squarely 
 faced the huge man in blue. 
 
 "I don't know what you'll think of me " he 
 began, in a breathless, unsteady voice; then his eyes 
 wavered. 
 
 Doane turned with him. Dixie Carmichael stood 
 in the doorway, watching them. Rocky, with a ner- 
 vous gesture, as if he would brush her away, looked 
 up again into the stern older face. He was plainly 
 lost in himself, burning with the confused fires of 
 youth. 
 
 "I don't know what you'll think of me " he came 
 again to a stop. Apparently the words, "Mr. Doane," 
 would have completed the sentence, but failed for some 
 reason to find voice. Perhaps it was the habit of his 
 wealthy environment that restrained him even now 
 from speaking with more than casual respect to a uni- 
 formed employee of a river line; yet, contradictorily, 
 
 here he was, all boyish humility ! "I'm a damn 
 
 fool, of course, I know that. But you've seen her." 
 
 Doane glanced again toward the door. Dixie Car- 
 michael had disappeared. 
 
 "No not that one!" cried the boy hotly; then 
 "dropped his voice. "The girl in there ! The princess, 
 isn't she?" 
 
 Doane inclined his head.
 
 H2 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "Then she'd be the one I well, you remember." 
 
 "She is the same. The Princess Hui Fei " 
 
 "Hughie Fay? Like that?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What a lovely name!.... You I know you 
 won't understand! It's so hard to I am young, of 
 course. I've been sort of in wrong. I guess you think 
 I'm a pretty wild lot. I seem to have been trying 
 about everything. But until to-night oh, there's no 
 use pretending I'm not hit all of a heap. I am. I 
 never saw anything like her never in my life. I 
 don't know what the pater would say me falling for 
 a Manchu girl you think I'm crazy, don't you ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Perhaps I am. My head's racing. Just watching 
 her in there makes my pulse jump. I get bewildered. 
 Tell me she was all Chinese the the other time 
 all painted up. Big head-dress with flowers on it. 
 Why did she do that?" 
 
 "Out of respect to her father. The rouge and the 
 head-dress were according to Oriental custom." He 
 looked directly down at the boy, and added, deliber- 
 ately, "Veneration of parents is the finest thing in 
 Chinese life. I sometimes think we have nothing so 
 fine in America." 
 
 The boy's eyes fell. He mumbled, "Ouch! You 
 landed there, I guess." Then he raised his eyes. "I 
 can't help myself whatever I am but I can start 
 fresh, can't I? That's what I'm going to do, anyhow 
 start fresh." He squared himself. His lip quivered.
 
 RESURGENCE 113 
 
 "Will you take me in there to the viceroy, and trans- 
 late my apology?" 
 
 Doane stood a moment in silence. Then he 
 replied, quietly, "Yes." And led the way into the 
 social hall. He found himself watching, like a spec- 
 tator, the little scene .... the viceroy rising, with a 
 quiet smile, a gentle old man, awaiting with perfect 
 courtesy of bearing whatever might be forthcoming ; 
 Rocky Kane, seeming younger than before, with, in 
 fact, the appearance of an excited boy, the wild look 
 still in his eyes but the face set with supreme deter- 
 mination. Doane observed now that he had a good 
 forehead, wide and not too high. The nose was 
 slightly aquiline, like his father's. The eyes, so dark 
 now, were normally blue; the mouth sensitive; the 
 skin fine in texture. 
 
 "Tell him" thus the boy "tell him I acted like 
 a dirty cad, that I know better, and and ask his 
 pardon." 
 
 Doane translated discreetly. A dance was just 
 ending, and curious eyes were bent on the group. The 
 mandarins stood behind the viceroy, all gracefully at 
 ease in their rich robes. 
 
 His excellency, without relaxing that smile, 
 replied in musical intonation. 
 
 "What is it?" asked Rocky Kane, under his 
 breath, all quivering excitement; "what does he say?" 
 
 "That he accepts your apology, with appreciation 
 of your manliness."
 
 114 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 Young- Kane's nervous frown relaxed at this. He 
 was pleased. 
 
 "Will you," he was saying now, "will you ask 
 if I may dance with the princess?" 
 
 Doane complied. He felt now a strain of fineness 
 in this ungoverned boy that was oddly moving to his 
 own emotion-clouded brain .... Hui Fei was approach- 
 ing, the Australian at her side. 
 
 "He suggests" Doane found himself translating 
 "that you ask her. He does not know what engage- 
 ments she may have made." 
 
 The boy bit his lip. And then the princess was 
 greeting the mate. "It's nice to see you, Mr. Doane," 
 she was saying. "I wondered if you weren't coming 
 to the party." 
 
 It seemed to Doane that he could feel young 
 Kane's devouring eyes fastened on her. The moment 
 had come in which he must act. The Australian, sens- 
 ing a situation, thanked the princess and slipped away. 
 Quietly, Doane said : "Miss Hui Fei, this is Mr. Kane,, 
 who has asked permission to meet you." 
 
 She drew back a very little; Doane caught that; 
 yet the courtesy of her race did not fail her. She 
 inclined her pretty head; even smiled. 
 
 "Should I speak English?" asked the boy, out of 
 sheer confusion; then: "Miss Hui Fei" he was 
 white; the words came slowly, almost coldly, between 
 set teeth "I am sorry for my rotten behavior the 
 other night." 
 
 That was all. He waited. Miss Hui's smile faded.
 
 RESURGENCE 115 
 
 No Oriental could have come out so bluntly with it 
 She seemed to be considering him. Gradually the 
 smile returned,, and with it an air of courteous 
 dismissal. 
 
 "I have forgotten it." 
 
 Kane gathered his courage. 
 
 "May I have a dance with you?" 
 
 For a moment the silence was marked. Perhaps 
 Miss Hui was gathering herself as well. But it was 
 only a moment; she spoke, smiling as if she were 
 happy, her manner gracious, even kind : "I am sorry. 
 I have promise' every dance. The ladies are so few 
 to-nigh'." 
 
 That was all. The boy seemed somewhat slow in 
 comprehending it. He stood motionless; then the 
 color returned slowly to his face, flooding it. He 
 bowed to her stiffly, then to her father, and rushed 
 out on deck. 
 
 Miss Hui smiled up at the mate. "I have save' 
 the dance you ask'," she said pleasantly. "It is this 
 nex' one, if you don' mind." 
 
 The Manila Kid adjusted the needle and released 
 the catch. 
 
 "I'm sorry," said Doane, as they moved away, "I 
 don't dance." 
 
 The commonplace .remark fell strangely on his 
 own ears. It could hardly be himself speaking. He 
 was all glowingly warm with impulse, his logic gone. 
 
 "We'll sit it out," said Miss Hui pleasantly.
 
 Ii6 IN RED AND GOLD! 
 
 And during the brief walk across the room, beside 
 this buoyantly graceful girl, even while aware of the 
 eyes upon him, he felt the magic wine of youth thrill- 
 ing through his arteries. What a fairy she was! 
 Snatches of poetry came; one 
 
 "Were it ever so airy a tread. ..." 
 
 and lingered fragrantly after they were seated and 
 he found himself looking down at her, listening with 
 something of the gravity and kindliness of long habit 
 when she so quickly spoke.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 CONFLAGRATION 
 
 A BEWILDERED, crushed Rocky; Kane stood 
 
 ^^ tightly holding the rail; staring down at the 
 softly black water that ran so smoothly along the hull 
 beneath ; muttering in whispers that at intervals broke 
 out into heated speech. This strange princess had 
 humiliated him perfectly, completely; there had been 
 nothing he could say, nothing to do but go; and she 
 had let him go without a look or a further thought. 
 He told himself it was unfair. He had swallowed his 
 pride and apologized. Could a man do more ? 
 
 But pressing upward through this chaotic mental 
 surface of hurt pride and insistent self-justification 
 came an equally insistent memory of his outrageous 
 conduct toward her. As the moments passed, the 
 memory intensified into a painfully vivid picture. His 
 native intelligence, together with the undeveloped 
 decency that was somewhere within him, kept at him 
 with dart-like, stinging thoughts. He had insulted not 
 only herself but her race as well, in assuming a ruthless 
 right to make free with her. 
 
 Then self-justification again; how could he know 
 117
 
 ii8 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 that she spoke English and dressed like the girls back 
 home? Was it fair of her to masquerade like that? 
 
 He was miserably wrong, of course. And his 
 nerves were terribly upset. That was at least part of 
 the trouble, his nerves ; he lighted a cigarette to steady 
 them. The match shook in his hand. This nervous 
 trembling had been increasing lately; he found it an 
 alarming symptom. Perhaps the trouble was inherent 
 weakness. Ability like his father's often skipped a 
 generation ; and character. Yes, he was weak. He had 
 failed at everything. His college career was a wreck ; 
 a monstrous wreck, he believed, echoes from which 
 would follow him through life. To his incoherent 
 mind it seemed that he had about all the vices drink- 
 ing, gambling, pursuing helpless girls, even smoking 
 opium. His one faith had been money; but now he 
 suddenly, wretchedly, knew that even the money might 
 fail him. It was as easy to toss away a million as a 
 hundred on the red or the black. And then young 
 men who wasted themselves acquired diseases from 
 the terrors of which no fortune could promise release; 
 a thought that had long dwelt uncomfortably in a 
 sensitive, deep-shadowed corner of his brain .... a 
 brain that was racing now, beyond control. 
 
 Her unfairness lay in so publicly snubbing him. 
 Her father knew the facts, as did Miss Carmichael, 
 and the big mate, that old preacher with a mysterious 
 past. Who was he, anyhow setting up to regulate 
 other people's lives? 
 
 Then rose among these turbulent thoughts a pic-
 
 CONFLAGRATION 119 
 
 ture of the princess as she was now, there in the social 
 hall. Tears welled into his eyes; he brushed them 
 away, lighted a fresh cigarette and deeply inhaled the 
 smoke. He had rushed out; suddenly, wildly, he 
 desired to rush back. She was beautiful. She had 
 quaintly moving charm. A rare little lady! It 
 seemed almost that he might compel her to listen 
 while he explained. But what was it that he was to 
 explain? That he was some other than the dirty sort 
 they all knew him to be, that he had proved himself 
 to be? 
 
 The wild thoughts were like a beating in his brain. 
 It was his father's fault, this crazy nervousness, and 
 his mother's .... He hated that big mate. Self-pity 
 rose like a tidal wave, and engulfed him. He stared 
 and stared at the softly dark water. Beginning with 
 about his sixteenth year he had wrestled often with 
 the thought of suicide, as so many sensitive young 
 men do. Now the water fascinated him; it was so 
 still, it moved so resistlessly on to the sea. "A pretty 
 easy way to slip out. Just a little splash I could 
 climb down. Nobody'd know. Nobody'd care much 
 of a damn. Oh, the old man would think he cared, 
 but he wouldn't. He'll never make a bank president 
 out of me. And that's all he wants." 
 
 A voice, guardedly friendly, said, "Better not let 
 yourself talk that way." 
 
 He turned with a start. Miss Carmichael was 
 standing there by the rail. So he had talked aloud 
 another unpleasant symptom.
 
 120 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "You you saw what " 
 
 She inclined her head. "What's the good of letting 
 it upset you? Lie down for a while. A pipe or two 
 wouldn't hurt you. You're nervous as a witch. It 
 would soothe you." 
 
 He stared at her. 
 
 "Better lie down anyway," she said, taking his 
 arm and moving him toward his cabin. "You don't 
 want them to see you like this." 
 
 He yielded. His will was powerless. He dropped 
 on the seat, while she lingered, almost sympathetically, 
 in the doorway, an unbelievably girlish figure in the 
 half light. Something of the influence she had been 
 exerting on him which had seemed to die when Miss 
 Hui Fei entered the social hall fluttered to life now. 
 'He found relief, abruptly, in recklessness. 
 
 "Come on in," he said huskily. "Have a pipe with 
 me!" 
 
 Quietly, wholly matter-of-fact, she closed and 
 locked the door. "We'll shut the window, too, this 
 time," she said. 
 
 "You needn't turn on the light." He was reach- 
 ing for his trunk. "Excuse me a minute ! I can see 
 all right. I know just where everything is." 
 
 "Leave the trunk out," said she. "And lay your 
 suit-case on it. Then we can put the lamp on that." 
 
 Miss Hui Fei led Doane to a seat under the curv- 
 ing front windows.
 
 CONFLAGRATION 121: 
 
 "We mus' talk as if ever'thing were ver' pleasan'." 
 The question rose again, but without bitterness now, 
 how she could smile so brightly. "I have learn' some 
 
 more. It is ver' difficul' to tell you, but it is diffi- 
 
 cul' to think, even so strange that at firs' I 
 
 laugh'." .... Yes, there were tears in her eyes. But 
 how bravely she fought them back and smiled again. 
 He felt his own eyes filling, and turned quickly to 
 the window; but not so quickly that she failed to see. 
 She was sensitively observant, despite her own trouble. 
 For a moment, then, they were silent, lost in a deep 
 common sympathy that was bread to his starving 
 heart. 
 
 It was in that moment that their little conspiracy 
 nearly broke down. Had any of the others in the big 
 room looked just then, gossip would have spread 
 swiftly; certainly sharp-eyed mandarins would have 
 found matter for consideration; for Hui Fei impul- 
 sively found his hand as it rested between them on 
 the seat, and was met with a quick warm pressure. 
 
 And then, in another moment, she was speaking, 
 quite herself. "My maid has foun' out tha' they are 
 sending the head eunuch from the Forbidden City to 
 pur home. An' that is agains' the law." 
 
 "Of course," said he. "Even the Old. Buddha 
 never tried but once to send out a eunuch on govern- 
 ment business. That was the notorious An Te-hai. 
 And he never returned ; he was caught in Shantung 
 in a barge of state on the Grand Canal and beheaded. 
 Even the Old Buddha couldn't do that. This woman
 
 122 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 is amazing 1 . But of course there is really no govern- 
 ment at Peking now only this strange anachronism." 
 
 "He has orders to seize all father's beautifu' things 
 the paintings an' stones an' carvings." 
 
 "The rebels may catch him. They'd make short 
 work of him." 
 
 "I ask' about that. The rebels have cross' the 
 river from Wu Chang to Han Yang, but they have not 
 yet reach' the railway. That comes into Hankow from 
 this side." 
 
 "Even so," he mused, "the train service from 
 Peking must have broken down. Though they're run- 
 ning troop trains south, of course." 
 
 "I haven't tol' you all of it." Her voice was low 
 and unsteady. "This eunuch, Chang Yuan-fu, is 
 ordered, by the empress, to take me to Peking too. 
 They are all whispering about it. The empress is 
 angry at my foreign ways, and will marry me to a 
 Manchu duke. She di'n' like it when my father tol' 
 
 her I mus' marry no man I di'n' choose myself 1 
 
 think you ough' to smile." 
 
 Mechanically he obeyed. 
 
 "It seems almos' funny," murmured Miss Hui. 
 "Sometimes I can no' believe tha' such a thing could 
 happen. When I think of America an' England and 
 all the worl' we know to-day, I can no' believe that 
 such wicked things can happen." 
 
 It was anything but unreal to Doane. He knew 
 too well that America and England, even all the 
 white peoples, make up but a fraction of the inhabi-
 
 CONFLAGRATION 123 
 
 tants of this strange earth. His eyes filled again as 
 he considered the possible yes, the probable fate of 
 the lovely girl at his side. In such a time of disor- 
 ganization the reckless Manchu woman at Peking 
 could do much. Chang might lose his head at the 
 sound of gunfire in Han Yang and fly back to the 
 capital, or he might not. A capable and corrupt 
 eunuch would run heavy risks to gain such a prize. 
 For a huge prize the viceroy's collection would indeed 
 be; many of the priceless stones and paintings would 
 never reach the throne. 
 
 The thought came of trying to persuade her to save 
 herself; a thought that was as promptly discarded. 
 She would not leave her father while he lived. He, 
 of course, would not take his own life elsewhere than 
 in his ancestral home. And to that home, with his 
 inevitable escort of underlings and soldiers, was 
 hurrying if not already there this Chang Yuan-fu, 
 one of those powerfully venomous creatures that have 
 figured darkly at intervals in the history of China. 
 
 Doane spoke low and quickly: "Can you find out 
 when Chang's train left Peking, Miss Hui?" 
 
 "No, I have try ver' har' to learn. I think they 
 don' know that. It is so importan' to know that, too, 
 because my father " Her voice faltered. Doane 
 once again, with a swift glance to left and right, took 
 her hand and, for a brief moment, gripped it firmly. 
 "You haven' yet spoken to my father?" 
 
 "Not yet, dear Miss Hui. . . .you must smile!. . . . 
 I have found it very difficult to think out a way of
 
 124 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 approaching him. Your father is a great viceroy. He 
 might take it ill that I should venture to interfere in 
 what he would feel to be the supreme sacred act of 
 his life. He might" Doane hesitated "even for 
 you he might feel that he couldn't turn back." 
 
 "I know," she said, very low. "I have thought 
 of tha', too. But they shall never take me to Peking." 
 
 He understood. The suicide of girls as a protest 
 against unwelcome marriage was a commonplace in 
 China. It was, indeed, for thousands the only way 
 out. She knew that, of course. And she spoke there 
 out of her blood. 
 
 "I will speak to-morrow," he murmured. "Before 
 we reach Huang Chau. We have nothing to lose. He 
 can only rebuff me." 
 
 He felt now that in this tragic drama was bound up 
 all that might be left to him of happiness. The guid- 
 ing motive of his life was there was a divine reckless- 
 ness in the thought to save Hui Fei, to make her 
 smile again, with a happy heart. She whispered now : 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
 He asked her, abruptly changing his manner, 
 almost distantly courteous, about her life in an Ameri- 
 can college. Little by little, as she made the effort to 
 follow him into this impersonal atmosphere, her 
 brightness returned. 
 
 The record was scraping its last. Applause came 
 from the dancers, in which she joined. The Manila 
 Kid wound the machine again, and the dancers swung 
 again into motion.
 
 CONFLAGRATION 125 
 
 "I am asking too much of you," she murmured. 
 "But I have been frighten'. I coul'n' think wha' to 
 do." 
 
 He had to set his teeth on the burning phrases that 
 rushed from his long unpractised heart, eager for 
 utterance. "I will take you back to your father," he 
 said. 
 
 In his mind it was settled. Whatever strange 
 events might lie before them, they should not take her 
 to Peking. His own life, as well as hers, stood in the 
 way. It had come to that with him. 
 
 It was near to midnight when the Yen Hsin, on 
 advices from Hankow, headed again up-stream. At 
 the first throb of the engine the white passengers 
 stopped dancing and came out on deck. There was 
 gaiety, even a little cheering. 
 
 It was perhaps two hours later when Doane, 
 asleep in his cabin, heard the shots, confused with the 
 incidents of a dream. But at the first screams of the 
 women below decks he sprang from his berth. Some 
 one was banging on his door; he opened; the second 
 engineer stood there, coatless and hatless, a revolver 
 in his hand, and a little blood on his cheek. 
 
 "All hell's broken loose below," said the young 
 Scotchman. "Chiefs down there. I tried to get to 
 him, but God, they're all over the place fighting 
 one another."
 
 126 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "Who are, MacKail?" Doane hurriedly drew on 
 trousers and coat, and thrust his feet into his slippers. 
 
 "The viceroy's soldiers. Revolutionary stuff." 
 
 Doane got his automatic pistol from a drawer in 
 the desk; quickly filled an extra clip with cartridges; 
 went forward. The Scotchman had already gone aft. 
 
 The engine was still running, the steamer moving 
 steadily up the moonlit river. The uproar below decks 
 sounded muffled, far-away. It might have been noth- 
 ing more than a little night excitement in a village 
 along the shore. The shooting continued. Men were 
 shouting. There were more shrill screams; and then 
 splashes overside. As he hurried forward, staring 
 over the rail, Doane caught a passing glimpse of a 
 face down there in the foam and a white arm. The 
 white men were stumbling drowsily out of their 
 cabins; he saw one of the customs men, in pajamas, 
 and Tex Connor. They hurled questions at him but 
 he brushed them aside. 
 
 Captain Benjamin stood over the cringing pilot 
 with a revolver. 
 
 "Engine room don't answer!" he shouted coolly 
 enough. "And we can't get to it. Take MacKail and 
 try to get through. I'll make this rat keep her in the 
 channel." 
 
 Doane ran back. More of the men were out, talk- 
 ing excitedly together. He paused to say: "Get any 
 weapons you have, every man of you, and see that none 
 but women get up to this deck ! Keep the men down !" 
 
 MacKail stood at the head of the port after stair-
 
 CONFLAGRATION 127 
 
 way, outside the rear cabins, a big Australian beside 
 him. 
 
 "They're just naturally carving one another up," 
 observed the Australian. 
 
 ''Come," said Doane, and went down the steps. 
 
 The noise and confusion were great down here. 
 Women were crowding out of the lower cabins, sob- 
 bing hysterically, tearing their hair and beating their 
 breasts, crowding forward and aft along the deckway 
 or climbing awkwardly over the rail and slipping off 
 into the river. 
 
 Doane shouted a reassuring word in their own 
 tongue; pointed to the steps; finally drew one girl 
 forcibly back from the rail and started her up. Others 
 followed, screaming all the way. Still others clung to 
 the white men. 
 
 Doane broke away and plunged into the dim 
 interior of the boat. Most of the lights were out. 
 Dark figures were wrestling. There were grunts, 
 groans, savage cries of rage and triumph. A huge 
 pole-knife caught the light as it swung. Doane was 
 aware of men breathing hard as they struggled. 
 
 He stumbled over an inert body ; would have fallen 
 had not the Australian caught him. A tall soldier 
 who lunged toward them with a dripping bayonet was 
 shot by MacKail .... There were no means here of 
 distinguishing the parties to this savage struggle, but 
 in the inner corridor it was lighter. Near at hand two 
 of the republicans queues cut off, dressed in an indis- 
 tinguishable but odd-appearing uniform of some light
 
 128 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 gray stuff with a white cloth tied about the left arm, 
 had heaped bodies across the corridor and were shoot- 
 ing over them at a darker mass just forward of the 
 engine room. 
 
 Doane shouted at the republicans, ordering them to 
 withdraw. They shook their heads angrily. One, 
 even as he tried to reply, sank into a limp heap with 
 a dark stream trickling from a hole in his forehead. 
 His comrade bent low to reload his rifle. With the 
 shouting of many hoarse voices the dark mass up 
 forward came charging down the corridor. Doane 
 was firing into them when MacKail and the Austra- 
 lian caught his arm and drew him back through the 
 doorway. From that position, however, all three could 
 shoot the blue-clad attackers as they plunged by the 
 opening. Then, however, they had to defend them- 
 selves. The soldiers came on by dozens. Doane had 
 his second clip of cartridges in his pistol. 
 
 "Get back !" he shouted to the others. "Guard the 
 steps they'll be coming up for loot!" 
 
 They retreated. Two bodies lay huddled on the 
 steps they had left but a few moments earlier. A few 
 dead women were on the deck and one or two men. 
 
 Even as they stepped over the bodies and mounted 
 to the deck above, all three men, their faculties sharp- 
 ened to a supernatural degree by the ugly thrill of com- 
 bat, took in the details of what was evidently accepted 
 among these republican rebels as their uniform 
 a suit of unmistakably American woolen underwear, 
 the drawers supported by bright-colored American
 
 CONFLAGRATION 129 
 
 suspenders; socks worn outside (like the suspenders) 
 with garters that bore the trademark name of an Amer- 
 ican city, and finally, American shoes. So the enthu- 
 siasm of these young revolutionists for the greatest of 
 republics found expression! And across the breast of 
 each, lettered on a strip of white cloth, was the inscrip- 
 tion that Sun Shi-pi had so glibly translated as "Dare 
 to Die." Sun must have brought along these sup- 
 posedly Western uniforms in his pedler's trunks. 
 
 It was never to be known what surprising inci- 
 dents had preceded this sudden slaughter. The chief 
 engineer might have told, but his mutilated body 
 Doane found, on his second attempt to get through, 
 lying just across the sill of the engine room, as if he 
 had been stepping out to reason with them. 
 
 The entire battle lasted barely half an hour. It 
 was, for the white folk, a period of confusion and 
 terror. Toward the end, the blue men, utter outlaws 
 now, made rush after rush up the various stairways 
 and ladders, only to be fought back at every point by 
 the white men and the few surviving officers of his 
 excellency's force. They were like the most primitive 
 savages, knowing neither fear nor reason. The blood- 
 lust that at times captures the spirit of this normally 
 phlegmatic and reasonable people drove them for the 
 time to the point of madness. 
 
 At last, however, they drew off below. Two of 
 the boats were within their reach. These they low- 
 ered, and despite the speed of steamer and current, 
 though not without evident loss of life, they got them
 
 130 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 over, tumbled into them, and fell away into the night 
 astern. Then for the first and last time this night 
 Doane saw the redoubtable Tom Sung. He stood in 
 the nearer boat, brandishing a rifle and screeching wild 
 phrases in Chinese. 
 
 MacKail took the engine room. Captain Benja- 
 min, still, grimly, pistol in hand, held the pilot to his 
 task. There was no crew to clean the shambles below 
 decks, yet with the few loyal soldiers who had man- 
 aged to hide away now at the furnaces, the steamer 
 wound her way steadily up-stream. 
 
 Doane found what had once been the earnest Sun 
 Shi-pi in the starboard corridor, below. On his body 
 were the uniform, white brassard and motto of the 
 "Dare to Dies." They had beheaded him. 
 
 The passengers, clad and half clad, nervous, talk- 
 ative, hung about the decks. The two teachers, curi- 
 ously self-possessed, sat side by side at the dining 
 table. From the quarters of his excellency, aft, came 
 the continuous sound of women moaning and wailing. 
 
 It was, to the eye, but a river steamer plowing 
 
 up-stream in the moonlight. But to the senses of 
 those aboard the situation was a nightmare, already 
 an incredible memory while sleep-drugged eyes were 
 slowly opening. . . . To the mighty river it was but 
 one more incident in the vivid, often bloody drama of 
 a long-suffering, endlessly struggling people. . . . 
 
 In his spacious cabin, his eyes shaded from the elec- 
 tric light by a screen of jade set in tulip wood, dressed 
 in his robes of ceremony, wearing the ruby-crowned
 
 CONFLAGRATION 131 
 
 hat of state with the down-slanting peacock feather, 
 his excellency sat quietly reading the precepts of 
 Chuang Tzii. 
 
 "Hui Tzu asked," (he read) 'Are there, then, men 
 who have no passions? If he be a man, how can he 
 be without passions?' 
 
 ' 'By a man without passions,' replied Chuang 
 Tzu, 'I mean one who permits neither evil nor good 
 to disturb his inner life, but accepts whatever comes. 
 .... The pure men of old neither loved life nor hated 
 death. Cheerfully they played their parts, patiently 
 awaited the end. This is what is called not to lead 
 the heart away from Tao. ... The true sage ignores 
 God; he ignores man; he ignores a beginning; he 
 ignores matter; he accepts life as it may be and is not 
 overwhelmed. If he fail, what matters it? If he suc- 
 ceed, is it not that he was provided through no effort 
 of his own with the energy necessary to success..,.. 
 The life of man passes like a galloping horse, changing 
 at every turn. What should he do; what should he 
 not do ? It passes as a sunbeam passes a small opening 
 in a wall here for a moment, then gone .... Let 
 knowledge stop at the unknowable. That is 
 perfection.' ' 
 
 4 
 
 It is to be doubted if even Doane gave regard at 
 the moment to the possible origin of the fire. It had 
 spread through two or three of the upper cabins by 
 way of the ventilating grills and was roaring out
 
 132 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 through a doorway by the time he heard the new out- 
 cry and ran to the spot The white men were rushing 
 about. Rocky Kane, collarless, disheveled, was fum- 
 bling ineffectually at the emergency fire hose; him 
 Doane pushed aside. But the flames spread amaz- 
 ingly; worked through the grill-work from cabin to 
 cabin ; soon were licking at the walls and furniture of 
 the social hall. 
 
 Doane left Dawley Kane and Tex Connor an 
 oddly matched couple manning the hose, others at 
 work with the chemical extinguishers, while he went 
 forward through the thickening smoke to the bridge. 
 
 Captain Benjamin said, huskily, almost apologet- 
 ically his eyes red and staring, his face haggard : "I'm 
 beaching her." 
 
 And in another moment she struck, where the 
 channel ran close under an island. 
 
 Lowering the boats without a crew proved diffi- 
 cult. Already the fire had reached those forward. 
 Doane, the other mate and MacKail did what they 
 could. The Chinese women crowded hither and 
 thither, screaming, rendering order impossible. In the 
 confusion one boat drifted off with only Connor, the 
 Manila Kid, and Miss Carmichael. 
 
 Captain Benjamin was cut off by the quick progress 
 of the flames. The whole forward end of the cabin 
 structure was now a roaring furnace, fortunately 
 working forward on the down-stream breeze rather 
 than aft. The flames blazed from moment to moment 
 higher; sparks danced higher yet; the heat was
 
 CONFLAGRATION 133 
 
 intense. Doane sent the viceroy and his suite below, 
 aft, where the deck was still strewn with bodies and 
 slippery with blood. With three available boats, fight- 
 ing 1 back the crowding women and the more excitable 
 among his excellency's secretaries, he sent ashore, first 
 the women, then his excellency and the men. Hui Fei 
 she had slipped hastily into the little Chinese costume 
 she wore at their midnight talk, and had thrown about 
 it an opera cloak from New York went in one of 
 the first boats; Doane himself handed her in. The 
 two teachers, pale, very composed, followed. At the 
 oars were two of the customs men, faces streaked 
 with grime and sweat. 
 
 To his excellency, as the last boats got away, Doane 
 said : "I w r ill follow you soon. I must look once more 
 for the captain." 
 
 "I will send back a boat," said the viceroy. 
 
 Doane ran up to the upper and promenade decks. 
 There was no sound save the roaring and crackling of 
 the fire. There seemed no chance of getting forward. 
 In the large after cabin stood the six-fold Ming screen. 
 Quickly he folded it ; there seemed a chance of getting 
 it ashore. He thought, with a passing regret, of the 
 pi of jade; but there was no reaching his own cabin 
 now. He stepped out on deck. There, clear aft, lean- 
 ing against the cabin wall, stood Rocky Kane, like a 
 man half asleep, rubbing his eyes; and crouching 
 against his knee, clinging to his hand, was the little 
 princess in her gay golden yellow vest over the flow- 
 ered skirt and her quaint hood of fox skin.
 
 134 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 Doane caught the young man's shoulder; swung 
 him about; looked closely into the dull eyes with the 
 tiny pupils. 
 
 "So!" he cried, "that again, eh!" 
 
 "I can't understand" thus Rocky "I don't see 
 how it could have happened. It couldn't have been 
 my fault." 
 
 Doane saw now that his head had been burned 
 above one ear ; and the hand that pressed his face was 
 blistered white. 
 
 "It wasn't my fault ! I found myself out on deck. 
 I tried to get the hose." 
 
 "Yes, I saw you. Quick get below." 
 
 Doane tenderly lifted the little princess. 
 
 Rocky was still incoherently talking; promising 
 reform ; blaming himself in the next breath after hotly 
 defending himself. His voice was somewhat thick. 
 He was drowsy swayed and stumbled as he moved 
 toward the stairs. 
 
 Doane, speaking gently in Chinese to the child, 
 stood a moment considering. The heat was becoming 
 intolerable. It wouldn't do to keep the little one here. 
 He carried her down the stairs. 
 
 Below, the boy faced him. "I'm no good," he 
 whimpered. "I can't wake up. Hit me do some- 
 thing I won't be like this." 
 
 Doane considered him during a brief instant. They 
 were standing under a light, their feet slipping on the 
 deck, bodies lying about. With the flat of his hand, 
 then, Doane struck the side of the boy's head that was
 
 CONFLAGRATION 135 
 
 not burned ; struck harder than he meant, for the boy 
 went down, and then, after sprawling about, got mut- 
 tering to his feet. 
 
 "It's all right!" he cried unsteadily. "I asked you 
 to do it. I'm going to get hold of myself. I've been 
 no good rotten. I've touched bottom. But I'm going 
 to fight it out get somewhere." His egotism, even 
 now, amazingly held him. Even as he spoke he was 
 dramatizing himself. But his pupils were widening a 
 little; he was in earnest, crying bitterly out of a 
 drugged mind and conscience. And Doane, looking 
 down at him, felt stirring in his heart, though curiously 
 mixed with a twinge of jealousy for his youth and 
 the hopes before him, something of the sympathy his 
 long deep experience had instilled there toward blindly 
 struggling young folk. Boys, after all, were normally 
 egotists. And Heaven knew this boy had so far been 
 given no sort of chance! 
 
 Doane led the way clear aft. The heat was terrific. 
 From a row of fire buckets he sprinkled the little 
 princess; bathed her temples. The water was warm, 
 but it helped. 
 
 Young Kane, with a nervous movement, suddenly 
 picked up one, then another, of the buckets and dashed 
 them over himself. Distinctly he was coming to life. 
 "We may never come out of this, Mr. Doane," he said. 
 "It's a terrible fix." More and more, as he came 
 slowly awake, he was dramatizing the situation and 
 himself. "But I want to say this. I've never known 
 a man like you. You're fine you're big you've
 
 136 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 helped me as no one else has. I'll never be like you 
 it isn't in me. I've already gone as close to hell as a 
 man can go and perhaps still save himself ' 
 
 "Can you swim?" asked Doane shortly. 
 
 "I why, yes, a little. I'm not what you'd call a 
 strong swimmer." 
 
 Doane was wetting the princess's face and his own. 
 There would be little time left. There was smoke now. 
 He found a slight difficulty in breathing; evidently the 
 fire had eaten through, forward, to the lower decks. 
 
 "They won't be able to get a boat back here," he 
 said, and quietly pointed out the still blazing pieces 
 of board that, after whirling into the air, were drift- 
 ing by. A terrific blast of heat swept about them, 
 indicating a change of wind. 
 
 "Wait here a moment for me," he added. "I must 
 make one more effort to find Captain Benjamin. If 
 that fails, we can swim ashore." 
 
 He tried working his way forward when the heat 
 proved too great in the corridor, climbing out on the 
 windward side of the hull. But the flames were eating 
 steadily aft; he could not get far. Beaten back, he 
 returned to the stern to discover that the child and 
 Rocky Kane were gone. After a moment he saw 
 them in the water, a few rods away, first a gleam of 
 yellow that would be the jacket of the little princess, 
 then their two heads close together.
 
 CONFLAGRATION 137 
 
 He lowered himself down a boat-line and swam 
 after them. In the water this giant was as easily at 
 home as in any form of exercise on land. Within the 
 year he had swum at night, alone, for the sheer vital 
 pleasure the use of his strength brought him, the nine 
 miles from Wusung to Shanghai slipping between 
 junks and steamers, past the anchored war-ships and 
 a great P. & O. liner from Bombay. The water was 
 cool, refreshing. He stretched his full length in it, 
 rolling his face under as one arm and then the other 
 reached out in slow powerful strokes. 
 
 Young Kane was having no easy time of it. He 
 was clearly out of wind. And the child whimpered as 
 she clung tightly about his neck. 
 
 "I gave you up," he sputtered weakly. Then 
 added, with an evidence of spirit that Doane found 
 not displeasing: "No, don't take her, please! Just 
 steady me a little." He was struggling in short 
 strokes, splashing a good deal. "We ought to touch 
 bottom now pretty quick." 
 
 Sampans and the boats of the cormorant fishers 
 were edging into the wide circle of light about the 
 steamer. Along the shore of the island clustered the 
 groups of mandarins, their silk and satin robes forming 
 a bright spot in the vivid picture. 
 
 Doane found the sand then; walked a little way 
 and helped the nearly exhausted boy to his feet. 
 
 "They're coming down the shore," said Rocky, 
 trying, without great success, to speak casually. 
 
 Doane looked up and saw them running white
 
 138 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 men, Chinese servants, mandarins holding up their 
 robes, women, and last, walking rapidly, his 
 excellency. 
 
 It was Hui Fei, throwing off her cloak and running 
 lightly ahead, who took the frightened child from 
 young Kane's arms and carried her tenderly up the 
 bank. There as the attendants gathered anxiously 
 about them, she tossed the child high, petted her, 
 kissed her, until the tears gave place to laughter. The 
 tall eunuch wrapped the little princess then in his own 
 coat ; and Hui Fei accepted the opera cloak that trans- 
 formed her again in an instant from a slimly quaint 
 Manchu girl to a young woman of New York. 
 
 Doane stood by. Toward him she did not look. 
 But to Rocky Kane, who lay on the bank, she turned 
 with bright eagerness. He got, not without effort, to 
 his feet. 
 
 Smiling happily, it seemed to the bewildered, 
 brooding Doane she gave him her hand ; led him to 
 meet her father. 
 
 "You have met Mr. Kane/' she said. "It was he 
 who save' little sister. He risk' his life to bring her 
 here, father." 
 
 Rocky, throwing back his hair and brushing the 
 water from his eyes, stood, his sensitive face working 
 nervously, very straight, very respectful, and took the 
 hand of the viceroy. 
 
 There was, then, manhood in him. The viceroy 
 recognized the fact in his friendly smile. Hui Fei 
 plainly recognized it as she walked, chatting brightly,
 
 CONFLAGRATION 139 
 
 at his side, while he bent on her a gaze of boyish 
 adoration. 
 
 As for Doane, he moved away unobserved; 
 dropped at length on a knoll, rested his great head on 
 his hands, and gazed out at the blazing steamer. She 
 would soon be quite gone. Poor Benjamin was gone 
 already; a strange little man, one of the many that 
 drift through life without a sense of direction, always 
 bewildered about it, always hoping vaguely for some 
 better lot. It had been a tragic night ; and yet all this 
 horror would soon seem but an incident in the spread- 
 ing revolution. It had always been so in China. In 
 each rebellion, as in the mighty conquests of the Mon- 
 gols and the Manchus, death had stalked everywhere 
 with a casual terribleness. Life meant, at best, so 
 little. Genghis Khan's men had boasted of slaying 
 twenty millions in the northwestern provinces alone 
 within the span of a single decade. The new trouble 
 must inevitably run its course; and what a course it 
 might prove to be ! From the mere effort to face this 
 immediate future Doane found his mind recoiling; 
 much as strong minds were to recoil, only three years 
 later, when the German army should march through 
 Belgium, 
 
 He gave up that problem, came down to the par- 
 ticular thought of this swiftly growing new love that 
 had stolen into his heart. The hope of personal hap- 
 piness had passed now. Self seemed, like the life to 
 which it so eagerly clung, not to matter. Instead that 
 hope was growing into a profound tenderness toward
 
 140 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 the girl. She was, after all the thought came start- 
 lingly about the age of his own daughter, Betty, 
 whom he had not seen during these three strange 
 years. Betty and her journalist husband would be 
 somewhere in Turkestan now; he was studying cen- 
 tral Asia for a book, she sketching the native types. 
 For a long time no letter had come. ... It was a fine 
 experience, this unbidden stir of the emotions, this 
 thrill. There was mystery in it, and wonder. Merely 
 to have that almost youthful responsiveness still at 
 call within his breast was an indication that life might 
 yet hold, even for him, the derelict, rich promise. And 
 it was a reminder, now, to his clearing brain that his 
 life must be service. He must find terms on which 
 to offer himself, his gifts. His spirit had been 
 molded, after all, to no lesser end. 
 
 The viceroy drew away then from the group about 
 the child; came deliberately along the bank. The 
 increasing tenderness Doane felt toward Hui Fei 
 reached also to her father, who was facing with such 
 fine dignity the grim ending of a richly useful life. 
 Now, perhaps, he could plead with him for the daugh- 
 ter's sake. Somehow, certainly, happiness must be 
 found for her. In pleading he would be serving her. 
 
 His brain was swinging into something near bal- 
 ance ; it was, after all, a good brain, trained to function 
 clearly, mellowed through patient years of unhappi- 
 ness. It would help him now to fight for the girl, to 
 save her, if he might, from the dark ways of the For- 
 bidden City. She called herself so naively an "Amer-
 
 CONFLAGRATION 141 
 
 ican." The West had thrilled her. She must not be 
 given over to the eunuch, Chang. 
 
 So, even as he contrived a sort of self-control, 
 even as he determined to forget his own little moment 
 of romantic hopefulness, the lover within him stood 
 triumphant over all his other selves.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE INSCRUTABLE WEST 
 
 r\OANE knew nothing of the dignified figure he 
 ^^ presented as he took the viceroy's hand, a pro- 
 foundly sobered giant, his huge frame outlined beneath 
 his wet garments like a Greek statue of an athlete. 
 
 "You have helped to save the life of my child, 
 Griggsby Doane" thus his excellency, in what proved 
 to be a little set speech "and with all my heart I 
 thank you. I am old. Little time is left to me. But 
 life follows upon death. Death is the beginning of 
 life. It has been said by Chuang Tzii that the per- 
 sonal existence of man results from convergence of 
 the vital fluid, and with its dispersion comes what we 
 term death. Therefore all things are one. All vitality 
 exists in continuing life. And I, when what I have 
 thought of as my self arrives at dispersion, shall live 
 on in my children. My words are inadequate. My 
 debt to you is beyond my power to repay. Command 
 me. I am your servant." 
 
 Doane bowed, hearing the words, catching some- 
 thing of the warm gratitude in the heart of the old 
 man, yet at the same moment flogged on to action by 
 
 142
 
 THE INSCRUTABLE WEST 143' 
 
 the sense of passing time and present opportunity. It 
 was no simple matter, it seemed, to approach this sea- 
 soned, calmly determined mind regarding the final 
 personal matter of life and death. But he plunged at 
 it; stating simply that he had heard the gossip of the 
 impending tragedy, and that in conversing with the 
 lovely Hui Fei, who was in obvious difficulty in exist- 
 ing between the two greatest civilizations without a 
 solid footing in either, he could not bear to think of 
 her possible fate. 
 
 Kang Yu listened attentively. 
 
 "Your Excellency," Doane pressed on, "it is not 
 right that you should listen to the command of a 
 decadent throne. Forgive my frankness, my presump- 
 tion, but I must say this! True, you are a Manchu. 
 While this revolution continues it will be difficult for 
 you. But before another year shall have gone by there 
 will be a new China. The bitter animosities of to-day 
 will pass. Though a Manchu, your wise counsel will 
 be needed. Your knowledge of the Western World 
 will temper the over-emphatic policies of the young 
 hot-heads from the universities of Japan." 
 
 The viceroy considered this appeal during a long 
 moment; then, soberly, he looked up into the massive, 
 strongly lined face of the white man and asked, simply : 
 "But what would you have me do, Griggsby 
 Doane ?" 
 
 "Your Excellency knows of the plan to seize your 
 property ?" 
 
 Kang inclined his head.
 
 144 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "If you go on to your home, it may be that every- 
 thing will be taken, even the money on your person." 
 
 Kang bowed again. 
 
 "Then, Your Excellency, why not now while you 
 yet have the means to do so escape down the river 
 with your daughter and myself? Can you not trust 
 yourself and her in my hands? I will find means to 
 convey you safely to Shanghai perhaps to Japan or 
 Hong Kong where you will be secure until further 
 plans may be laid." 
 
 "Griggsby Doane," replied the viceroy with simple 
 candor, "you speak indeed as a friend. And I would 
 be false to the blood that flows in my veins did I not 
 prize the friendship of man for man, second only to 
 the love of a son for a parent, above every other qual- 
 ity in life. Friendship is most properly the theme of 
 many of the noblest poems in our language. It is 
 to us more than your people, who place so strong an 
 emphasis on love between the sexes, can perhaps bring 
 themselves to understand. And therefore, Griggsby 
 Doane, your feeling toward myself and my daughter 
 moves my heart more deeply than I can express to you. 
 
 "It is not surprising that news of my sorrow of 
 this sad ending that is set upon my long life should 
 have reached you. But since you know so much, I 
 will tell you, as friend to friend, more. Do you know 
 why this sentence has been passed upon me? It is 
 because I could not bring myself to obey the order of 
 the throne that the republican agitator, Sun Shi-pi 
 who had sought sanctuary at my yamen in Nanking
 
 THE INSCRUTABLE WEST 145 
 
 should be at once beheaded. Instead I sent for Sun 
 Shi-pi to counsel him. I permitted him to go to 
 Japan on condition that he engage in no conspiracies 
 and that he remain away. Instead of complying with 
 my condition he hastened to organize revolutionary 
 propaganda. He returned to China, appeared in dis- 
 guise on the steamer that is burning out yonder, and 
 is now dead, there, in his republican uniform." 
 
 So his information was complete! A picture rose 
 in Doane's mind of the headless trunk of Sun Shi-pi 
 amid the horrors of the lower deck. 
 
 His excellency continued : "I was denounced at the 
 Forbidden City as a traitor. The sentence of death 
 followed, in the form of an edict from the empress 
 dowager in the name of the young emperor. Were I 
 now to follow Sun Shi-pi into exile in a foreign land 
 I would mark myself for all time as a traitor indeed; 
 as one who, while sharing as an honored viceroy the 
 prosperity and dignity of the reigning dynasty, con- 
 spired toward its downfall." 
 
 "But, Your Excellency, the empress dowager and 
 the young emperor no longer speak with the voice of 
 the Chinese people." 
 
 "That could make no difference, Griggsby Doane. 
 By edict of the Yellow Dragon Throne of Imperial 
 China I have been instructed to go to my ancestors. 
 My allegiance is only to that throne. I will obey. . . . 
 Already, Griggsby Doane, you have done for me more 
 than one can ever demand of a friend. And yet 
 one more demand I must make upon you. There la
 
 146 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 no other to whom I can turn ; I have no other friend 
 to-night. Within a short time my secretaries will 
 secure a launch or a junk to convey us to my home 
 near Huang Chau. Will you come with us there?" 
 
 Doane, surprised, bowed in assent. 
 
 "Thank you. The gratitude of myself and all my 
 family and friends will remain with you. You are a 
 princely man .... Until later, then, good night, 
 Griggsby Doane." 
 
 He was gone. 
 
 Doane walked farther along the bank; stood for 
 a time absorbed in thought that led, at length, to what 
 seemed a new ray of light in the darkness that was 
 his mind. And he strode back, hunting in this group 
 and that for Dawley Kane. That man had offered 
 help. Now he could give it. 
 
 Dawley Kane, fully dressed, unruffled, quietly 
 smoking a cigar and looking through a pocket note- 
 book by the light from the river, seemed a note of 
 sanity in an unbelievably confused world. To him, 
 apparently, the nightmare of fighting and slaughter on 
 the steamer, like the fire, were but incidents. The 
 only evidence the man gave out of quickened nerves 
 was that he talked a little more freely than usual. To 
 Doane he presented a surface as clear and hard as 
 polished crystal, impenetrable, in a sense repelling, yet, 
 as we say, a gentleman.
 
 THE INSCRUTABLE WEST 147 
 
 They even chatted casually, as men will, standing 
 there looking out at the fire (which now had reached 
 the stern and eaten down to the lower decks, inciner- 
 ating alike the bodies of men who had died for faith 
 and for lust) and at the wide circle of light on the 
 rim of which floated the vulture-like boats of the 
 rivermen. Doane forced himself into the vein of the 
 man's interest; riding roughshod over a desperate 
 sense of unreality. For he knew that the great mas- 
 ters of capital were often proud and even finicky men 
 who must be approached with skill. They were kings ; 
 must be dealt with as kings. 
 
 Kane was interested to learn what relation the 
 fight below decks might have to the rebellion up the 
 river. That, clearly, was characteristic of the man 
 the impersonal gathering in and relating of observable 
 data. His interest was deeper in the agriculture and 
 commerce of the immense Yangtze basin, to which sub- 
 ject he easily passed. His questions came out of a 
 present fund of knowledge questions as to the speed, 
 cargo-capacity and operation-cost of the large junks 
 that plied the river by thousands, as to the cost of 
 employing Chinese labor and the average capacity of 
 the coolie. He knew all about the slowly developing 
 railroads of North and Central China; commented in 
 passing on the surprising profits of the young 
 Hankow-Peking line .... He seemed to Doane to have 
 in his mind a map or diagram of a huge, profit- 
 making industrial world, to which he added such bits 
 of line or color as occurred in the answers to his
 
 148 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 questions. But he gave out no conclusions, only ques- 
 tions. Famines, other wide-spread suffering so 
 tragically common in the Orient, interested him only 
 as an impairment of trade and industrial man power. 
 The opium habit he viewed as an economic problem. 
 
 Doane, settling doggedly to his purpose, found 
 himself analyzing the power of this quiet man. It 
 lay of course, in the control of money. And money 
 would be only a token of human energy. The religion 
 of his own ardent years had taken no account of 
 earthly energy or its tokens; it had directed the eyes 
 of the bewildered seeker toward a mystical other 
 world. Yet human life, in the terms of this earth, 
 must go on. To this point he always came around, of 
 late years, in his thinking, just as the church had 
 always come around to it. Money was vital. The 
 church was endlessly begging for it; in no other way 
 could it survive to continue turning away the puzzled 
 eyes of the seekers. 
 
 And the immense energy created in the human 
 struggle to live and prosper must continually be gath- 
 ering up, here and there, into visible power that shrewd 
 human hands would surely seize. He felt this now 
 as a law. Religion had not left him. He felt more 
 strongly than ever before that this miraculously con- 
 tinuing energy implied a sublime orderly force that 
 transcended the outermost bounds of human intelli- 
 gence. Religion was surely there; it only wanted dis- 
 covering. It had, as surely, to do with primitive 
 energy, with the heat of the sun and the disciplined
 
 THE INSCRUTABLE WEST 149 
 
 rush of the planets, with the tragic struggle of human 
 business, with work and war and sex and money .... 
 And then he indulged in a half-smile. For this primi- 
 tive undying energy could be no other than the Tao of 
 Lao-tzu and Chuang Tzii. And so, after all these 
 groping years of his errant faith, he had fetched up, 
 simply in Taoism. 
 
 But that law seemed to stand. The human strug- 
 gle created power that tended to gather at convenient 
 centers. And here beside him, smoking a cigar, stood 
 a man whose uncommon genius fitted him to seize that 
 power as it gathered and administer it; a man to 
 whom money came the very winds of chance heaped 
 it about him. And to Doane, just now, money even 
 in quantity that would be to Kane hardly the income 
 of a day or so meant so much that the grotesque 
 want of it (the word "grotesque" came)! stopped his 
 brain. 
 
 For it was coming clear to him how completely the 
 throne could at will, obliterate the worldly establish- 
 ment of Kang Yu. That throne, however politically 
 weak, yet held the savage instruments of despotic 
 power. Kang's sad end would come within the 
 twenty-four hours, perhaps; certainly he would wait 
 only to prepare himself and to write his final papers. 
 The eunuch's men would be everywhere about the 
 household; nothing could be hidden from them, or 
 from the spies among the servants. ... .With money 
 a little money Hui Fei might be saved from an end as 
 tragic as her father's .... The thing, surely, could be
 
 150 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 managed. For the moment it seemed almost simple. 
 She could be spirited away. There might be mission- 
 aries to escort her down the river on one of the 
 steamers. 
 
 It was then, while Doane's thoughts still raced 
 hither and thither, that Kane himself broached the 
 vital topic. 
 
 "This viceroy" thus Kane "seems to be quite 
 a personage. He's been a diplomat, I believe. And 
 Kato tells me has an excellent collection of paintings." 
 
 Doane felt himself turning into a trader. "You 
 are interested in Chinese paintings, are you not, Mr. 
 Kane ?" he asked guardedly. 
 
 "Oh, yes. I have something of a collection. And 
 now and then Kato picks up something for me." 
 
 "I don't know, of course, how far you would care 
 to go with it, Mr. Kane" Doane was measuring 
 every word as it passed his lips "but there is a pos- 
 sibility that a bargain could be struck with his excel- 
 lency at this time." 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 "It would be advisable to act pretty quickly, I 
 should say." 
 
 "Well! This is interesting. You are informed 
 about his collection?" 
 
 "In a general way. It is very well known out 
 here. His collection of landscapes of the Tang and 
 Sung periods is supposed to be the most complete in 
 existence, with fine works of Ching Hao, Kuan Tung, 
 Tung Yuan and Chu-jan. The best known paintings
 
 THE INSCRUTABLE WEST 151 
 
 of Li Chang are his. He has several by Kao Ke-ming, 
 and, I know, an original sixfold landscape screen by 
 Kuo Hsi. Then there are works of the four masters 
 of southern Sung Li Tang, Lui Sung-nian, Ma Yuen 
 and Hsia Kuai. You would find nearly all the great 
 men of the Academy represented." 
 
 Doane stopped ; waited to see if this list of names 
 impressed the great American. If he knew, in his own 
 person, anything whatever about Chinese painting he 
 must exhibit at least a little feeling. But Dawley 
 Kane said nothing; merely lighted, with provoking 
 deliberation, a fresh cigar. 
 
 "It is commonly understood, too" Doane could 
 not resist pressing him a little further "that he has 
 authentic paintings by Wu Tao-tzu, and Li Lung- 
 mien." Surely these two names would stir this man 
 who seemed at moments no more than a calculating 
 machine with manners. But Kane smoked on.... 
 "And I understand that he has a fairly complete col- 
 lection of portraits by the men of the Brush-strokes- 
 reducing Method." 
 
 He finished rather lamely; fell silent, and looked 
 out over the still brilliantly lighted river; the river of 
 a hundred thousand dramatic scenes battles and 
 romances and struggles for trade the great river with 
 its endless memories of gold and bloodshed the river 
 that for a brief day was running red again. The fire 
 out there, though red flame and rolling smoke and 
 whirling sparks still roared upward, was consuming 
 now the lower deck and the hull. Within the hour the
 
 152 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 Yen Hsin would be no more than a curving double 
 row of charred ribs; one more casual memory of the 
 river. 
 
 Still Dawley Kane smoked on. He clearly knew 
 no enthusiasm. He was an analyst, an appraiser, a 
 trader to the core. He felt no discomfort, even in 
 friendly talk, in letting the other man wait. But 
 Doane would say no more. And finally, knocking the 
 ash off his cigar with a reflective finger, Kane 
 remarked ; 
 
 "You really think that this collection would be a 
 good buy?" 
 
 "Unquestionably." 
 
 "Have you any idea what he would ask?" 
 
 "I don't even know that he would consider sell- 
 ing it." 
 
 "But if he were propfc/ly approached. ... .there are 
 reasons . . . . " 
 
 "You know of his predicament?" 
 
 "I gather that there is a predicament." 
 
 "Oh .well, yes, there is. But I don't know how 
 
 even to guess at the value. Many of the paintings 
 are priceless. In New York, at collecto/'j prices, and 
 without hurrying the sale . . . . " 
 
 "A hundred thousand dollars?" 
 
 "Many times more." 
 
 "But if he is anxious to sell must sell^ 1 * 
 
 "There is that, of course." 
 
 "A hundred thousand is a good deal of riwyey. 
 If I were to place that sum to his credit to-morrow,
 
 THE INSCRUTABLE WEST 153 
 
 for instance, by wire, at a Shanghai bank, don't you 
 suppose it would tempt him?" 
 
 "It might. Though Rang knows the value of 
 every piece." Doane was finding difficulty in keep- 
 ing pace with the situation. Kane would shave every 
 penny; as a matter of principle. That, of course, 
 explained him ; was the secret of his wealth and power. 
 Paintings, after all, mattered to him only in a remote 
 sense; you could always buy them if you chose, if 
 people would, as apparently they did, think better of 
 you for buying them. It came down to the desirability 
 of building up and solidifying one's name, of what 
 Doane had heard spoken of everywhere in America 
 during his last visit as "publicity." The word irritated 
 him. It suggested that other word, also heard every- 
 where in America, "salesmanship." These words, to 
 the sensitively observant Doane, had connoted an 
 unpleasant blend of aggressive enterprise with an 
 equally aggressive plausibility. 
 
 But his wits were sharpening fast. If this man 
 was a buyer, he would be a seller. 
 
 "His excellency has another collection that might 
 or might not interest you the value of it would be 
 only slightly artistic his precious stones." Doane 
 threw this out carelessly. "There is no estimating the 
 value of those. It might run into the millions . . . . " 
 He saw Kane's eyes come to a sudden hard focus 
 behind the veil of smoke. He was really interested at 
 last. And Doane, with mounting pulse, quietly added, 
 "He has historical jewels from many parts of Asia
 
 154 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 head ornaments, bracelets, ropes of matched pearls 
 from Ceylon, old carven jade from Khotan, quantities 
 of the jewelry taken from Khorassan and Persia by 
 Genghis Khan and his sons, including a number of 
 famous royal pieces, and some of the jeweled orna- 
 ments brought from the temples of India by Kublai 
 Khan." 
 
 This, Doane knew, was enough. He waited, now, 
 himself. Waited and waited. 
 
 "Mr. Doane" Kane, at last, was speaking "I 
 would be glad to have you approach the viceroy for 
 me. To-night, if you think best. I will be glad, of 
 course, to pay you a commission." 
 
 "Shall I make a definite offer for the paintings 
 and the jewels?" 
 
 "No." Kane considered. "Let him set a price. 
 Then we will make our offer." 
 
 "It is safe to say, Mr. Kane" Doane was remem- 
 bering experiences of men in church and educational 
 work who had had to approach the great capitalists 
 for gifts of money "that you could sell half the 
 paintings for what you might pay for the two collec- 
 tions at this time. That would enable you to give the 
 other half, as a collection bearing your own name, to 
 one of the art museums at home, at no cost to 
 yourself." 
 
 Kane smoked thoughtfully. "I presume, Mr. 
 Doane," he said, "that the predicament you spoke of 
 can not interfere in any way with the safe delivery 
 of the collections."
 
 THE INSCRUTABLE WEST 155 
 
 Doane considered. How much did this man 
 know? That Japanese, behind his mask of a smile, 
 would be deep, of course. With a sudden sinking of 
 the heart, Doane perceived that Kane might easily 
 know the whole story. But even if he did he would 
 admit nothing. He trusted no one; that was his calm 
 cynical strength. He would trade to the last .... 
 Another swift, if random, perception of this tense 
 moment was that much of the common talk regarding 
 the "inscrutable" East was utter nonsense. Read in 
 the light of history and habit the Oriental mind was 
 anything but deeply mysterious; it was, indeed, very 
 nearly an open book. Whereas the Western mind, 
 with its miraculous religion, its sentimentality and 
 materialism and (at the same time) its cynically 
 unscrupulous financial power, could be baffling 
 indeed. 
 
 Desperate now, seeing no other way through, 
 Doane spoke out from his tortured heart. "Mr. 
 Kane, the simple fact is that his excellency has been 
 condemned to death, and his daughter to a fate that 
 will almost certainly end in death for her as well. 
 They are seizing his property. ..." 
 
 "Who are they?" 
 
 "The Imperial Government the empress dowager 
 and her crew. They are sending the chief eunuch, 
 Chang Yuan-fu, to take his paintings and jewels, and 
 his daughter, to Peking. Frankly, it may be necessary 
 to hurry matters smuggle the things out. But the 
 fan paintings can be packed in parcels, the scrolls
 
 156 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 rolled small on their ivory sticks, the jewels gathered 
 in a few boxes. Once in white hands they would be 
 safe, I think. I believe I can arrange it. The por- 
 celains and carvings you would probably have to leave 
 behind." 
 
 His voice died out. Dawley Kane was coolly 
 appraising him. Their minds were not meeting. 
 
 "As you are stating it now, it is a different situa- 
 tion altogether," said Kane, the ring of tempered metal 
 in his voice. "Obviously the man to deal with is the 
 eunuch, What's-his-name." 
 
 "But really " 
 
 "He would have the collections complete including 
 the porcelains and the carvings. I should want them 
 all. He would be ignorant and corrupt, of course ; we 
 could buy him for a song. And there would be no 
 risk. Yes, let him get possession. Then if you would 
 like to approach him for me I will be glad to see that 
 you make something for yourself." 
 
 Doane drew in his breath. Slowly he said: "But 
 that, Mr. Kane, seems a good deal like taking a profit 
 out of the viceroy's misfortune." 
 
 But he caught himself. To Kane, who had made 
 enormous profits out of wrecked railways, who had 
 cornered stocks and produce and mercilessly squeezed 
 the short sellers, this would be sentimentality. 
 
 Doane heard himself saying: "I'm sorry. I could 
 hardly undertake it, Mr. Kane." And walked away. 
 His failure was complete. Worse, if there had been 
 any gaps in the information supplied by the ubiquitous
 
 THE INSCRUTABLE WEST 157 
 
 little Kato, they were filled now. The finely balanced 
 machine that served so smoothly as a brain in the 
 head of the great American, would be working on and 
 on. Through the Japanese he could easily enough 
 reach Chang Yuan-fu from Hankow after the tragedy 
 that now hovered so close over the old viceroy and all 
 that was his. He could make what he and his suave 
 kind would doubtless regard the slang word came 
 grimly as a killing. 
 
 3 
 
 The white men had made a small fire of dry rushes 
 and thwarts from the boats. There sat Hui Fei, the 
 sleeping little princess in her arms; and, beside her, 
 Rocky Kane. Near by, where the men had spread 
 coats on the ground, Miss Means and Miss Andrews 
 slept side by side. 
 
 Doane walking toward the group stopping, mov- 
 ing away only to turn irresolutely back saw young 
 Kane reach over and take the child into his own arms, 
 and saw Hui Fei smile at him. He strode away then, 
 struggling to believe that she could do that But she 
 had .... After all, she knew only that he had acted 
 outrageously toward her, had then apologized publicly, 
 boyishly, and now had brought her little sister ashore, 
 himself falling exhausted on the bank. With those 
 few facts, out of her impulsively young judgment she 
 could strike a balance in his favor. Even at his worst 
 he had bluntly admired her; for that she might, in the 
 end, forgive him. And his youth would call to her.
 
 158 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 Doane, indeed, forced himself to consider the boy 
 dispassionately. The wild oats of any spoiled youth 
 with too much money at his disposal, if brought 
 together, and closely scrutinized, would make an 
 appalling showing. Wild young men did, of course, 
 recover. There was in this boy a note of intensity 
 passionate, eager that was by no means all egotism. 
 And there was in the father a hard sort of character 
 that had proved itself indomitable, and that must be 
 taken into account. Yes, it was a simple fact, that 
 many a young fellow had gone farther wrong than 
 had Rocky Kane without wrecking his adult life. You 
 couldn't tell. And there they were, the eager moody 
 boy and the lovely girl, who was oddly, quaintly con- 
 spicuous in her opera wrap, sitting very close, talking 
 in low tones while he walked alone. It was torture 
 . ... .yet it was an awakening. He told himself that 
 it was better so. . . .Pacing back and forth, dwelling 
 on the quick changeableness of youth, its ardor and 
 sensitive hopefulness, he thought reaching out for 
 fellowship as will always the hurt soul of other lonely 
 lives, of Abelard and Jean Valjean, of St. Francis, 
 even of Christ. It was odd from his present 
 philosophical position of something near Taoism he 
 felt the legendary Christ as a profoundly human and 
 friendly spirit, immeasurably more tender, finer, 
 gentler than the theological structure of thought and 
 conduct that had been erected in His name. He had 
 thought himself very nearly around the circle, back 
 to essential good .... This process could bring only
 
 THE INSCRUTABLE WEST 159 
 
 humility. Life began to matter less. Love was a tor- 
 menting problem of self ; the mature soul must in some 
 measure attain selflessness if it were not to go down 
 in the trampled dust of life. Worldly success was an 
 accident. It was hardly desirable; hardly mattered. 
 That he had within the hour pinned his hope to money, 
 fairly fought for it, began to seem incredible. 
 
 The viceroy found him standing quietly by the 
 river, turning from the slowly dying fire out there to 
 the slowly spreading glow in the eastern sky. 
 
 "I like to think," remarked his excellency, smiling 
 in friendly fashion, "that when the first Buddhist 
 patriarch, Bodhidharma, miraculously crossed the 
 river on a reed plucked from the southern bank, it was 
 not far from here, near my home." 
 
 "Was not your city of Huang Chau the home of 
 Li Po?" asked Doane. 
 
 "Indeed, yes!" cried his excellency. "In some of 
 his excursions on the river he undoubtedly passed the 
 site of my home." 
 
 Doane quoted from that most famous of rhapsodists 
 in musical Chinese : " 'One who has hearkened to the 
 waters roaring down from the heights of Lung, and 
 faint voices from the land of Ch'in; one who has lis- 
 tened to the cries of monkeys on the shores of the 
 Yangtze Kiang and the songs of the land of Pa*. . . . 
 That" he was musing aloud, reflectively as the 
 Chinese do "was written three full centuries before 
 William of Normandy first set foot on British soil 
 
 , .Li Po so described himself."
 
 160 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 They talked on, of life and philosophy, in language 
 interwoven with classical allusions. Friendship, the 
 finest relationship in Chinese civilization, as it stood, 
 had come to them. .,. . It brought a kind of peace. 
 Doane failed to recognize this sensation as in some 
 degree but a phase of his painful exaltation. It seemed 
 to him then that his struggle, no matter what atone- 
 ment might lie before, was over. He forgot again the 
 Western vigor that was, and to the last would be, 
 driving his spirit. 
 
 Meanwhile the swiftly growing acquaintanceship 
 of Hui Fei and Rocky Kane was weaving its bright- 
 tinted weft in and out through the dark warp of 
 Rocky's ill-spent youth. His eyes followed the slightest 
 movement of her slim hands and rested dog-like on her 
 finely modeled head about which the shining wet black 
 hair lay close. To his quick youth she was an exquis- 
 ite fairy. He felt her as perfume in the air he 
 breathed. Her voice, when she drowsily, prettily 
 spoke, fell on his ear like music in an enchanted land. 
 He could say little; he had never before so lost 
 himself. 
 
 She tried daintily to conceal a yawn. And he, 
 clasping the child in both arms, turned away to hide 
 its brother. Then, very softly, she laughed and he 
 laughed. 
 
 "You must try to sleep," he said gently.
 
 THE INSCRUTABLE WEST 161 
 
 "I can no' let you keep my sister. You, too, are 
 ver' tire'." 
 
 "It's nothing. I love to hold her. Really! You 
 see, my life hasn't been this way. Maybe, if I'd had 
 a sister. . . .." He stopped; suddenly, vividly sensing 
 what he had been; a hot flush flooded his sensitive 
 face. He could only add then: "I want you to sleep. 
 It may be hours before the boat comes for you. It's 
 been such a horrible night such a nightmare . . . . " 
 
 "But you mus' res', too. One of the servan's will 
 take my sister." 
 
 "No !" he crie'd, low, fiercely, "I won't let any one 
 else have her!" Sensing crudely that the child was a 
 chord between them, he tightened his hold. The little 
 head rolled back on his arm; he bent over, tenderly 
 kissed the soft cheek, then looked over it at Hui Fei, 
 staring. During one brief moment their eyes met full 
 in the flickering yellow light. 
 
 She turned away; in lieu of speech looked about 
 for a spot to lay her head. 
 
 "Here!" He laid the child on the ground; and, 
 surprised to find himself collarless and coatless, took 
 off his waistcoat, rolled it up and placed it for a pillow. 
 "It's really pretty well dried out," he added, with an 
 embarrassed little laugh.... Then, as she still said 
 nothing, went on, "Do just lie down there. I'll keep 
 awake. We can't count on the servants; they're all 
 scared to death." 
 
 Still she hesitated. "I'm afraid I am ver' tire',"
 
 162 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 she finally remarked unsteadily. "I can't think ver* 
 clearly." 
 
 "Listen!" said he, hardly hearing. "I've got to 
 tell you something. I'm not good enough so much as 
 to speak to you." 
 
 "Please!" she murmured. "I don* wan* you to 
 talk abou' " 
 
 "I don't mean that. It's other things too." His 
 voice broke, but after a moment he pressed on, a deter- 
 mined look on his curiously youthful face. "I've done 
 every rotten thing I could think of. I'm well, I 
 guess I'm just a criminal. No, listen please! It's 
 true. I'm to blame for this awful fire smoking 
 opium in my cabin. It was my lamp it must have 
 been. I fell asleep. But I knew better, of course .... 
 Oh, God, it's terrible! All those lives, all this suffer- 
 ing! And you I've nearly killed you when it was 
 
 you " Here, creditably, he caught himself. 
 
 "Don't think I'm talking wildly. I'm getting at 
 something. Seeing you, meeting you and now, this 
 well, I've never seen anybody like you. It's bowled 
 me off my feet. I know what love is, now Oh, 
 please! I've got to get this out. I love you. I'm 
 crazy about you. I can say that because pretty soon 
 that boat'll come and you'll go and I'll never see you 
 again. It's right, too! I've got to start again alone 
 and prove that there's good stuff in me somewhere ..." 
 
 "I'm ver' tire'," she murmured wistfully; and 
 resting her head on the rolled-up waistcoat she lay 
 still.
 
 THE INSCRUTABLE WEST 163 
 
 If she had only let him finish! There had been 
 something some point he was getting at. He hadn't 
 meant to tire her or hurt her. . . .When the tall eunuch 
 came for the little princess he angrily drove the fel- 
 low away. For Hui Fei was sleeping now, peacefully, 
 like the warm little child in his arms. 
 
 An English gunboat was the first relief craft to 
 arrive; in the cool dawn; a tiny craft, built for the 
 river, with a white freeboard low as a monitor's and 
 bridge structure forward of the thin high funnel. The 
 small boat that came ashore made a number of trips, 
 taking off the passengers and the surviving white offi- 
 cers of the Yen Hsin. 
 
 His excellency refused, with calm courtesy, to set 
 foot on the English gunboat that was built for the 
 river; he would wait for the junk that had been 
 sent for. 
 
 Dawley Kane found his son, nodding, with the 
 picturesquely-clad child in his arms. The boy, 
 glancing at the sleeping Hui Fei whose head rested 
 comfortably on the rolled-up waistcoat, gave the child 
 now to the patiently waiting eunuch, then fairly 
 dragged his father to the boat. With the Japanese, 
 Kato, and oddly distant to the big mate and the sud- 
 denly exotic-appearing viceroy in his richly embroid- 
 ered satins who had been after all only casually, for a 
 few days, in their lives, they embarked. 
 
 They had nearly reached the gunboat when those 
 on the bank heard young Kane's voice raised in hot 
 protest. There was a moment of argument; then a
 
 1 64 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 splash. The boy could be seen then swimming back to 
 shore. And Dawley Kane, turning his back, went on 
 to the gunboat, stepped aboard, and disappeared. 
 Rocky clambered, dripping, up the bank ; came straight 
 to Doane, a staring, exhausted youth, very white. 
 
 "I can't do it," he panted. "They're just told me 
 Kato and the pater about this terrible trouble of 
 the viceroy's and and Miss Hui Fei's. . . .The pater 
 said it was time I got clear of any new entanglement. 
 I quit him. Oh, I suppose you'll think me a damn 
 fool, but" at this point he nearly broke into tears' 
 "but I love that girl, Mr. Doane! If I can't be of 
 some use to her now, in this awful trouble I don't 
 want to live. Will you help me ? And let me help ?" 
 
 And, all blind confidence, he offered his hand to 
 
 the big mate; who took it. 
 
 The gunboat hoisted anchor and swung about, 
 heading down-stream. Passing her, upward bound, 
 came a large junk, with the rig of a trader from 
 Szechuen, her single huge rectangular sail, brown- 
 umber in tint and closely ribbed with battens of bam- 
 boo, flat against the one mast that towered clumsily 
 amidships. The eight long sweeps, in the low waist 
 and forward, moved rhythmically in time with the 
 syncopated, wailing chant of nearly a hundred oars- 
 men. The tai-kung crouched, bamboo pole in hand, 
 just within the prow. 
 
 The hull was of cypress, stained from stem to 
 stern with yellow orpiment and rubbed to a polish 
 with oil. The high after-deck structure, all of fifty
 
 THE INSCRUTABLE WEST 165 
 
 feet in length, terminating in a projecting gallery 
 twenty feet or higher above the water, was carved 
 everywhere in intricately decorative designs; as were, 
 also, the roof over the tillerman's stand on the deck 
 house and the gallery railing (just within which stood 
 a row of flowering plants in yellow and green pots). 
 The many small windows along the sides were glazed 
 with opalescent squares of ground oyster shells and 
 glue; those across the stern (under the gallery) with 
 stained glass. 
 
 To no one aboard the gunboat or among the still 
 waiting groups on the bank did the thought occur that 
 this craft might be engaged in other than peaceable 
 business. Her like were not an uncommon sight along 
 the always crowded river. The passing attention she 
 drew was merely that aroused by a richly decorative 
 object moving beautifully (with a remarkably 
 detailed reflection) through the flat water, that itself 
 glowed under the red and gold of the early morning 
 sky like a great sheet of burnished old copper. It was 
 not observed that three white faces peered warily out 
 of the shadow, behind as many opened windows; nor 
 could it easily be seen that the figure in blue, sitting, 
 knees drawn up, on the deck house just behind the 
 laopan who mercilessly urged on the sweat-shining 
 oarsmen, was none other than the redoubtable 
 Tom Sung.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 ABOARD THE YELLOW JUNK 
 
 N making their escape from the steamer, Tex Connor 
 and the Manila Kid seized one of the small boats, 
 manning, one at either end, the tackle-falls. Connor 
 was quick, rough, profane. The Kid, breathless with 
 excitement, hesitant, glancing back over the rail for 
 a thinly girlish face that did not, then, appear, worked 
 with ten thumbs at the ropes. Connor's end, the bow, 
 fell first, a short way, nearly pitching him out. He 
 cursed this futile man, his jackal, roundly; then clung 
 to the tackle as the stern fell .... The Kid moaned 
 with pain as the slipping hemp burned the skin off his 
 fingers, but held it just short of disaster. 
 
 Hot red flames licked out overhead as the boat 
 jerkily dropped. The women were screaming up there. 
 A white man, the second mate, leaned over, swearing 
 vigorously at them. They passed an open freight 
 gangway, where bodies lay. 
 
 "Ready, now!" cried Connor. "Let go with me!" 
 
 "Wait a minute, can't you?" whined the Kid. He 
 
 was peering into the dark interior of the steamer; 
 
 grasping a moment more; wrapping a handkerchief 
 
 166
 
 ABOARD THE YELLOW JUNK 167 
 
 about his left hand. "My God! Can't a fellow tie 
 up his hand." 
 
 A thin blue figure appeared, stepped lightly over 
 into the boat and dropped on a middle thwart. 
 
 "Dixie!" cried the Kid in falsetto. 
 
 She wore a cap, and carried an oddly lady-like 
 shopping bag. 
 
 "Where'd you come from?" growled Connor. 
 
 "I saw you start," said the girl casually. "Come 
 on let's get away." 
 
 Connor stared at her ; then turned back to his work. 
 The boat struck the water and drifted rapidly away 
 down-stream. Connor, roaring angrily at the Kid, got 
 out an oar. 
 
 "What are you doing?" asked Miss Carmichael 
 very quietly. 
 
 "Going ashore?" said Connor. 
 
 "Oh, come, Tex !" said she. "Use your head." 
 
 He looked sharply, inquiringly, doubtingly at her. 
 
 "You two better row straight down-stream as 
 hard as you can," she added. "You can bet Tom 
 Sung and that gang aren't going to show themselves 
 at Kiu Kiang. They've stopped somewhere below 
 here." 
 
 The Kid, who was nursing his hand, looked up; 
 wrinkled his low forehead (he was hatless) and then 
 softly whistled. Connor made no remark, but con- 
 tinued studying the girl with his one eye. Finally, 
 with an effort at reasserting his authority, he 
 growled :
 
 i68 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "Take an oar, Jim!" 
 
 "But my hands! My God, that rope took all 
 the" 
 
 "Do you expect me to do the rowing, Jim?" said 
 Miss Carmichael. 
 
 The Kid yielded then. The girl settled herself 
 comfortably in the stern, looking back at the fire. 
 Soon they were out of the circle of light. 
 
 Suddenly Connor drew in his oar ; stowed it away. 
 
 "Dixie," he remarked. "You've made up your 
 mind to go through with this business, eh?" 
 
 "Certainly," she replied. 
 
 "You'll have to come across if you want my help. 
 I won't go it blind." 
 
 Miss Carmichael glanced back at the red glow in 
 the sky, then out toward the slightly paling East. 
 
 "I'll tell you by sunrise," she said. "The thing 
 won't keep much longer than that, anyhow. It'll have 
 to be fairly quick work." 
 
 "All right," said Connor. "That's an agreement. 
 Now I'm going to take a nap. This current's taking 
 us down fast enough. When you sight Tom's outfit, 
 wake me up." With which he curled up in the bow, 
 and soon was snoring. 
 
 The Kid stowed his own oar, and crept to the girl's 
 side. 
 
 "Careful!" she whispered. "If he should wake 
 up...." She extricated herself from an encircling 
 arm. "Jim sit still now! It's time you and I had 
 an understanding. I need you, and I'm going to use
 
 ABOARD THE YELLOW JUNK 169 
 
 you. I don't propose to have you all steamed up, 
 either. You'll need all the nerve you've got. Perhaps 
 more. I'm not at all sure that you're big enough for 
 what you've got to do. That's the difficulty." 
 
 "You promised, Dixie." He was still absurdly 
 breathless. "You said it was a trade if I'd stick to 
 you, you'd stick to me!" 
 
 "Certainly. But it's during the next eight or ten 
 hours that you're going to find out what sticking to 
 me, means. You can have me, all right, Jim, but 
 you've got to earn me." 
 
 "I guess I'll earn you, all right" 
 
 "I wonder if you have the courage." 
 
 "By God, for you, Dixie " 
 
 Her hand fell lightly on his; and her voice, very 
 small and calm, broke in with : "Supposing I told you 
 to kill a man. Would you do it ?" 
 
 She heard, felt, his breath stop. Then he whis-s 
 pered, with one swift glance at the sleeping Connor: 
 
 "If I say yes, Dixie, will you kiss me? Right 
 now?" 
 
 She pressed her lips slightly; then replied: "No. 
 Not yet. And you needn't kill anybody until I tell 
 you to." 
 
 "Is it is it" his whisper was huskier "is it 
 him, Dixie?" He was staring with less certainty 
 now, at Connor. 
 
 "No" said she slowly "nobody in particular. 
 But anything may happen to-night, Jim. And we 
 can't falter. Not now."
 
 i;o IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 She let him press her hand during a brief moment ; 
 then made him resume his seat. And from behind 
 lowered lids she watched him. 
 
 Once he came back, to ask hoarsely: "You said he 
 was rough with you, Dix. Did he did you and he 
 my God, if I thought that Tex had " 
 
 She caught his shoulder and placed a hand over his 
 mouth; held him thus while she said: "If he catches 
 you back here, Jim, he'll kill you. No fear! Now 
 you go back there and show me that you can play 
 cards. You're sitting in the biggest game of your life, 
 Jim Watson." 
 
 He crept back; puzzled, something hurt. There 
 was a sting in her voice. Could it be that the girlish 
 Dixie was as cold-blooded as that? Treating him like 
 a child ! Hadn't she any feelings ? The question came 
 around and around in his muddy brain, confused with 
 frantic uprushes of jealousy against the big man who 
 slept and snored in the bow. . . .hadn't she any feel- 
 ings?. ... She was excitingly desirable. 
 
 Just as a conquest, now ; something to brag about. 
 
 It was Dixie who sighted the soldiers, sitting in 
 heated argument on the bank not a hundred yards 
 below a big junk that lay moored to stakes in an eddy. 
 She called sharply to Connor; they pulled straight in 
 beside the other two boats. 
 
 Tom Sung came to the water's edge, a rifle (with
 
 ABOARD THE YELLOW JUNK 171 
 
 set bayonet) in his hand. Connor stepped out, holding 
 the boat. The Kid, with a furtive glance at the big 
 yellow fighter, and the abruptly silent shadowy group 
 on the bank, cautiously got out an automatic pistol 
 and held it beside him on the thwart. 
 
 Dixie said sharply, for Connor's ears: "Put up 
 that gun, Jim!" 
 
 The Kid obeyed. 
 
 She spoke then to Connor direct. 
 
 "Tell your man we want that junk," she said. 
 "Get out these other boats and take it, quick. Then 
 we'll start back up-stream." 
 
 For a moment Connor was nonplussed. The girl's 
 assumption of authority was complete. Even the slow- 
 thinking Tom Sung felt her presence and turned 
 abruptly from himself toward her. 
 
 But, though angered, Connor controlled himself. 
 She meant, after all, business. Dixie wasn't a girl to 
 make careless mistakes. She knew, none better, what 
 any success, little or big, might be worth in risks run. 
 So, speaking sharply, he gave his orders to Tom. 
 
 Quietly the twenty or more outlaw soldiers came 
 down to the boats and pushed off. Rowing and pad- 
 dling they crept up on the junk. A drowsy watchman 
 peeped over at the rail, forward. 
 
 Then they were alongside. Catching at the moor- 
 ing poles, the soldiers stepped out on the wide sponson 
 that curved down, amidships, nearly to the water-line. 
 Quickly, rifles slung on backs but revolvers at their 
 girdles and knives in their teeth, they went up the
 
 172 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 ropes hand over hand, their bare feet clinging monkey- 
 like to the smooth side. 
 
 There were cries aboard now, and a confusion of 
 running feet. The first soldier to get a leg over the 
 rail came tumbling back with a split skull, bounding off 
 the sponson into the water and sinking as he drifted 
 away. 
 
 Connor and the Kid caught together at the spon- 
 son. Connor stepped out; and calling on a belated 
 soldier to give him a back, climbed laboriously, puff- 
 ing but determined, up over the rail, pausing at the 
 top only to call back for the Kid to follow. 
 
 But that worthy hesitated, crouching, clutching at 
 the boat painter. "I've got to hold the boat here !" he 
 shouted back; but Connor had disappeared. 
 
 There was much noise up there now shouts, 
 groans, appalling screeches, shots, and that insistent 
 pattering of feet. 
 
 Dixie, watching critically the crouching figure on 
 the sponson for the Kid was shivering and making 
 little sounds, obviously caught in the acute physi- 
 cal distress into which extreme sudden fear will at 
 times plunge a man called abruptly : "Jim look up!" 
 
 A nearly naked Chinese was lowering himself in 
 a deliberate gingerly manner down a moving rope 
 nearly overhead. 
 
 "Kill him, Jim!" Dixie added. 
 
 Singling out her clear voice from the tumult, the 
 yellow man looked fearfully down. 
 
 The Kid, at the same moment, looked up; then,
 
 ABOARD THE YELLOW JUNK 173 
 
 fumbling- in a curiously absent way for his pistol, 
 glanced back at Dixie. 
 
 "I'll hold the boat," said she. "Go on kill him!" 
 She sat quietly, one thin arm reached out to the near- 
 est mooring pole, looking steadily up. 
 
 The Kid, nerving himself, suddenly burst into a 
 storm of wild oaths and shot three times into the body 
 above him. At the first shot the man slipped down a 
 little way. 
 
 "Push him away!" Dixie cried sharply. "I don't 
 want him falling into the boat!" 
 
 He was shooting again; and then with an effort 
 diverted the falling body. 
 
 Dixie got up, and stood steadying herself in the 
 gently rocking boat ; and the Kid quite out of breath 
 now, and muttering, as he fondled the hot pistol, 
 "Well, I did it, didn't I? I did what you said!" 
 found in her eyes, shining through the dusk of early 
 dawn, a bright white light that was, to him, discon- 
 certing and yet profoundly thrilling. He shivered 
 again as he felt the spell of her strange genius. What 
 a woman, he was thinking again, but wildly, madly, 
 now, to conquer. 
 
 And she was saying, "I guess your nerve's all 
 right." 
 
 Other shining yellow bodies were tumbling over 
 the side and floating away. 
 
 "Help me up there, Jim !" she commanded. "Never 
 mind tying the boat let it go! It's only a giveaway. 
 Quick give me a hand !"
 
 174 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 She was beside him on the sponson. He clasped 
 her in his arms ; but before he could kiss her she slapped 
 him sharply. "Keep your head!" she commanded. 
 "Put me up there !" 
 
 He lifted her high; until she could kneel, then 
 stand, on his shoulder. She went over the rail as 
 lightly as a boy. She found the soldiers in small 
 groups cornering one or another of the crew, tortur- 
 ing and hacking at them with bayonets and knives, 
 and during a brief moment looked on with a curious 
 keen interest. The master, or laopan, crouched, 
 whimpering, on the poop .... She saw Connor stand- 
 ing by the mast, just above the well, amidships and 
 forward, where were huddled the survivors among the 
 crew (their number surprisingly large) ; Connor was 
 panting, revolver in hand, and scowling about him. 
 
 Dixie stepped to his side. 
 
 "You've got to save enough of this crew to work 
 the boat up the river, Tex," she remarked. 
 
 "I'm saving enough of 'em," he replied graffly. 
 "We've only killed a dozen or so. There was more'n 
 a hundred." 
 
 The heavily evil-looking Tom Sung reluctantly 
 detached himself from one of the groups and came 
 over, wiping his bayonet casually on his sleeve. Him 
 Connor roughly ordered to gather his men together 
 and make ready to get under way. To the Kid, who 
 came awkwardly over the rail just then, Connor gave 
 merely a glance. Then to Dixie, he said : 
 
 "Come up here!"
 
 ABOARD THE YELLOW JUNK 175 
 
 He led the way up the steps with the carven hand 
 rail to the poop; gave the laopan a careless kick; 
 stepped around the steersman's covered pit and out 
 astern on the high projecting gallery. 
 
 "Now," he said, fixing his one eye on her, "wfiere's 
 this place ?" 
 
 She turned away to the pots of flowers that stood 
 closely spaced just within the elaborate woodwork of 
 the railing. There were chrysanthemums, white, yel- 
 low and deep Indian red ; highly cultivated double 
 dahlias ; red lotus blossoms ; and tuberoses that filled 
 the fresh morning air with their heavy perfume. 
 
 "Well?" Connor added explosively. 
 
 "I said I'd tell you by sunrise, Tex," she said, 
 coolly pleasant; and hummed, very softly, a music-hall 
 tune, bending over a spreading lotus blossom with 
 every appearance of ingenuous girlish interest. After 
 a moment, she went on, "The thing now is to get this 
 junk up the river as fast as it will go." 
 
 "Where to?" He was controlling his voice, but 
 his face, usually expressionless, was brutally clouded 
 . . . ."Push me just a little farther, Dix, and you'll go 
 overboard. And there won't be any flowers at the 
 funeral. By God, I'm not sure I wouldn't enjoy it. 
 You got me into this business ! Now if you " 
 
 "Better control yourself, Tex," said she; straight- 
 ening up before him. "I may have got you in, but 
 it's a real job now. You've got to go through. And 
 you're going to need me. The place is a few miles
 
 176 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 this side of a town called Huang Chau, on the north 
 bank." 
 
 "Beyond Hankow?" 
 
 "No, below. It's only a matter of hours getting 
 up there, if you'll just get this junk started." 
 
 "How'll we know it when we get there?" 
 
 "All we've got to do is ask a native, anywhere 
 along the bank, where Kang Yu lives his old home." 
 
 "Who's he?" 
 
 "The viceroy of Nanking. Why don't you use 
 that eye of yours once in a while, Tex look around 
 you a little?" 
 
 Slowly his mind, so quick at the vicious games of 
 his own race, picked up and related the facts. His 
 face relaxed, as he thought, into the familiar wooden 
 expression. 
 
 "You're sure the stones are there?" he asked, 
 quietly now. 
 
 She nodded ; hummed again ; caressed the flowers. 
 
 "All right, Dix," he said then, as he turned to go 
 forward, "that sounds square enough. I guess I can 
 handle it all right. And I'll see that you get your 
 share all hunky dory." 
 
 "What are you figuring my share to be?" she 
 asked, glancing casually up from a lotus blossom. 
 
 "Oh," he cried without hesitation, almost play- 
 fully, "you and I aren't going to have any trouble 
 about that." 
 
 He went then ; and she lingered among the flowers. 
 
 From beyond the long deck house came shouts and
 
 ABOARD THE YELLOW JUNK 177 
 
 waiting 1 . The great sweeps were got overside. The 
 mooring poles were hoisted out and lashed along the 
 sponsons. The clumsy craft swung out into the river 
 and moved slowly forward. 
 
 At the sound of a hasty light step Dixie looked 
 up into the haggard gray face of the Kid. 
 
 "What was it?" he whispered, glancing fearfully 
 behind him. "Wha'd he say to you?" 
 
 She dropped her eyes ; turned away. 
 
 "Quick! Tell me, or by God, I'll" 
 
 She threw up a frail white hand. 
 
 "Not now, Jim !" 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "He'll have to sleep. There's work ahead." 
 
 "If you think / can sleep " 
 
 "I can't either, Jim. It's dreadful. But I'm going 
 to tell you everything. You have a right to know. 
 Wait till we're past the steamer. We'd better get 
 below now anyhow. We mustn't be seen. If we aren't, 
 they'll never suspect this junk. Then make sure he's 
 asleep and come up here. I'll be waiting." 
 
 The Kid brought Dixie's breakfast of rice and eggs 
 and tea to the gallery. 
 
 "The cook was only wounded a little," he 
 explained. "Tom's got him working now." 
 
 Dixie was reclining on a Can-ton chair of green 
 rushes over a bamboo frame, her head resting Ian-
 
 178 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 guidly near the tuberoses. Now and again she drew 
 in deeply the rich odor. And beyond the fringe of 
 flowers and the carven railing she could see the river. 
 Junks moved slowly by, sliding down with the current 
 somber seagoing craft out of Tientsin and Cheefoo 
 and Swatow and even Canton. By a village were 
 clustered open sampans, and slipper-boats with their 
 coverings of arched matting. The small craft of 
 the fishermen with suspended nets or with roosting, 
 crowding cormorants clustered here and there along 
 the channel-way. Everywhere farmers and their 
 coolies were at work in the fields. A family father, 
 mother, boys and girls worked tirelessly with their 
 feet a large irrigating wheel at the water's edge. 
 
 The Kid seated himself on the deck and mourn- 
 fully looked on while she ate. Perversely she delayed 
 her narrative, playing with time and life. In her 
 oblique way she was happy, exercising her gift for 
 gambling on a scale new in her experience. Indeed, 
 for the thrill she now experienced, Dixie Carmichael 
 would have paid almost any price. Life itself the 
 mere existing she held almost as cheaply as the 
 Chinese. Deliberately, with nerves steady as steel 
 instruments, she finished her simple breakfast and 
 then put the bowls aside on the deck. 
 
 Lying back, averting her face, gazing off down the 
 river, she began the narrative that she had framed 
 within the hour. Her manner, calm at first, soon 
 offered evidences of deeply suppressed emotion. Her 
 voice exhibited the first unsteadiness the Kid had ever
 
 179 
 
 heard in it. She drew out an embroidered handker- 
 chief from the pocket of her blouse and pressed it once 
 or twice to her eyes, as, with an air of dogged deter- 
 mination, she talked on. 
 
 The narrative itself dealt with her girlhood near 
 San Francisco, her chance meeting with Tex Connor, 
 then a well-known character on the western coast of 
 America, her girlish infatuation with him, and an 
 elopement that she had supposed would end in mar- 
 riage. Instead she found her life ruined. Connor had 
 beaten her, degraded her, driven her into vice. She 
 ran away from him; reached the China Coast; settled 
 down with every intent to become what she termed, in 
 his and her language, a square gambler. 
 
 "When I took up with you a little last year, Jim, it 
 seemed to me that at last I'd found a man I could tie 
 to. You never knew my real feelings. I'm not the 
 kind that tells much or shows much. I guess perhaps 
 my life's been too hard. But oh, Jim! well, you're 
 seeing the real girl now. I'm pretty well beaten down, 
 
 Jim You're getting the truth from me at last. 
 
 I've got to tell it all of it for your own sake. You're 
 in worse trouble than you know, right now. The 
 cards are stacked against you, Jim. Your life even" 
 her voice broke ; but she got it under control "I'm 
 going to save you if I can." 
 
 Moodily he watched her. 
 
 "If it was anybody but Tex! He's merciless. He's 
 strong. He never forgets .... Listen, Jim ! Tex 
 came clear from London to find me. And he found
 
 i8o IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 out about us you and me. That I was growing 
 fond of you. He never forgets and he never forgives. 
 Oh, Jim, can't you see it! Can't you see that that's 
 why he took you on so he could watch you, keep 
 you away from me? Can't you see what a game I've 
 had to play? God, if you'd heard what he said to me 
 back here this very morning Oh, it's too awful! I 
 can't tell you! He's so determined! He gets his 
 way, Jim Tex gets his way !...., Oh, what can 
 I do! 
 
 "No, wait I've got to tell you the whole thing. 
 You said he was planning to cross me. He'll do that, 
 of course. I don't think I care much about that. But 
 you, Jim oh, you poor innocent boy! If you could 
 only see ! You'll never get your hands on one of the 
 viceroy's jewels." 
 
 She turned her face toward him. Her eyes now 
 were swollen and wet with tears. 
 
 Jim, gray of face, held in his two hands a Chinese 
 knife, balancing it. There were stains on the blade. 
 He must have picked it up, she reflected, here on the 
 junk. For it wouldn't be like him to carry such a 
 weapon. It seemed to her then that he was holding 
 his breath. She saw him moisten his blue lips with 
 the tip of an ashen tongue. He was trying to speak. 
 At least his lips parted again. She waited. When the 
 voice did finally come, it was so hoarse that he had 
 evident difficulty in making it intelligible. 
 
 "Tex may be strong but if you think I'm 
 afraid"
 
 ABOARD THE YELLOW JUNK 181 
 
 "Oh, Jim no, I don't mean that! Not that! 
 
 Oh, I don't know what I'm saying! It's only when 
 I think how happy you and I might be think of it! 
 really rich! able to go and live decently somewhere, 
 like regular folks! " 
 
 Silently, with surprising stealthy swiftness, he got 
 to his feet. His right hand, with the knife, busied 
 itself in a side pocket of his coat. 
 
 "Say the word, Dixie" his face was contorted 
 with the muscular effort necessary to produce this 
 small sound "say the word, and I'll kill him." 
 
 "Oh, no, Jim!" she covered her face with her thin 
 hands, and sobbed, very low. "Oh God, what can we 
 do? Isn't there some other way?" 
 
 "Say the word," he whispered. 
 
 "Would it be" she broke down again "would 
 it be where a man's a devil, where he's threatened 
 wouldn't it be like defending ourselves?" 
 
 "Say the word!" 
 
 "Oh, Jim God forgive me ! Yes !" 
 
 Her lips barely framed the word. But he read it. 
 She watched him as he stepped around the huge coils 
 of tracking rope on the *oof of the steersman's pit; 
 watched until he dropped softly down and disappeared. 
 
 4 
 
 Then, lying back, very still, she listened. But the 
 oarsmen were chanting up forward, the laopan shout- 
 ing; nearer, the steersman was singing an apparently
 
 182 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 endless falsetto narrative (as if there had never been 
 bloodshed). The minutes slowly passed. She drew 
 in the sweet exhalation of the tuberoses .... still no 
 unusual sound. She herself exhibited no ,sign of 
 excitement beyond the hint of a cryptic smile and the 
 
 white light in her eyes Her shopping bag lay 
 
 on her lap. Opening it, she looked at the bracelet 
 watch, that nestled close to a small triangular bottle of 
 green corrosive sublimate tablets .... The gentle 
 wash of the current against the hull gave out a sooth- 
 ing sound. The slowly rising sun beat warmly down, 
 and the polished deck radiated the heat. A sensation 
 of drowsiness was stealing over her. For a short 
 while she fought it off; but then, deciding that no 
 anxiety on her part could be of value, she yielded, 
 closed the bag on her lap, and drifted into slumber. 
 
 It was pleasantly warmer still. She felt her eyes 
 about to open slowly on a presence. This languor 
 was delicious. As an almost ascetic epicure in sensa- 
 tions she rested a moment longer in it, thinking 
 dreamily of priceless gems heaped in her hollowed 
 hands; of luxurious idleness in some exotic port 
 Singapore, or Penang (she had loved the tropical 
 splendor of Penang), or in Burmah or India Ran- 
 goon say, or even Lucknow, Lahore and Simla. They 
 would know less about her there. And with the means 
 to operate on a larger scale she should be able to add 
 enormously to her wealth. She decided to dress and 
 act differently ; make a radical change in her methods. 
 
 Her lips parted. The presence before her coat-
 
 ABOARD THE YELLOW JUNK 183 
 
 less, little cap pushed back off the low forehead was 
 Connor. He had pushed aside a flower pot to make 
 a seat on the rail. 
 
 She closed her eyes again. He still wore the gray 
 flannels and the white shoes with the rubber soles- 
 It would be the shoes that had enabled him to approach 
 without awakening her. He was smoking a cigar. 
 And the face was wooden again save for his eye 
 that stared oddly at her. And she thought his breath- 
 ing somewhat short, just at first. 
 
 She opened her eyes again. 
 
 "Fve had a good nap," she said. 
 
 He smoked, and stared. 
 
 "Where's Jim?" she asked then; quite casually; 
 raising herself on an elbow. 
 
 He made no reply; smoked on, still a thought 
 breathless, fixing her with his eyes. 
 
 "He brought me some breakfast, just before I fell 
 asleep What time is it?" 
 
 For what seemed a long space he did not even 
 answer this; merely smoked and stared. She had 
 never, sensitively keen as were her perceptions, felt 
 so curious a hostility in Connor. She had hitherto 
 supposed that she understood him, short as had been 
 their actual acquaintance her narrative of a past with 
 him in America, as related to Jim, was false but the 
 man before her now, sitting all but motionless on the 
 railing, smoking with an odd rapid intensity, holding 
 that cold eye on her, was wholly alien. 
 
 Finally he replied: "It's afternoon."
 
 184 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "No!" She sat up. "Have we been going right 
 along?" 
 
 "Right along." 
 
 She stood erect; covered a yawn; then with her 
 thin hands smoothed down the wrinkled blue skirt 
 about her hips. 
 
 "I look like the devil," she remarked. The thin 
 hands went to her hair. "You haven't noticed any 
 sort of a mirror in the cabin, have you, Tex ?" 
 
 He did not reply. 
 
 Faintly through the still air came a faint sound 
 a boom boom-boom. 
 
 "What's that?" she asked sharply. 
 
 "Fighting around Hankow." 
 
 "We're not way up there?" She stepped to the 
 side and looked out ahead. "There's a city!" 
 
 "Tom says it's Huang Chau." 
 
 "Hello! We're there!" 
 
 He inclined his head. 
 
 "What are you going to do?" 
 
 "Tie up here." 
 
 She heard now other and more confused sounds. 
 The junk was slowing down; working in toward the 
 yellow shallows. 
 
 "Now listen!" said he. She glanced at him, then 
 away, apparently considering the quiet landscape; 
 alien he was indeed, and hostile, his manner that of an 
 inarticulate man struggling with a set speech .... 
 "Listen! You're smart enough. But I want you to 
 understand I don't trust you."
 
 ABOARD THE YELLOW JUNK 185 
 
 "Don't you, Tex?" 
 
 "When I go ashore, you're to stay here right 
 here on this deck where you are now." 
 
 "What's the big idea, Tex?" 
 
 "There'll be men to see that you do stay here. I 
 want you to get this straight." 
 
 "Of course," said she musingly, "you won't be able 
 to rob me outright. You'll have to give me enough of 
 a share to keep me quiet afterward." 
 
 He said nothing. 
 
 "But what's to prevent the crew from getting away 
 with the junk. I'm not very keen about being carried 
 off that way." 
 
 "You needn't worry. I'm taking the master along 
 with me." 
 
 He stood then ; looked meaningly at her ; then went 
 forward. She noted that his two hip pockets bulged. 
 
 Slowly the long narrow craft was worked in 
 toward the land. Trackers sculled ashore in sampans 
 and made the great hawsers fast to stakes. Then the 
 crew, with a deal of shouting and many casual blows, 
 were assembled in the long well forward of the mast, 
 where they huddled abjectly. 
 
 Peeping around the steersman's house, Dixie con- 
 trived to take in much of the scene. There was quar- 
 reling among the soldiers. Tom Sung towered over 
 them, shouting rough orders. The two men that were 
 told off (she judged to guard her and the junk) 
 appeared to be objecting to their part in the affair. 
 Obviously there would be small loot here.
 
 186 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 Connor came back over the deck house; stood 
 angrily over her. She sensed the mounting brutality 
 in him. For that matter, his sort and their ways with 
 women were familiar enough to her. She had learned 
 to take brutal men for granted. But it had not 
 occurred to her that Connor would strike her. How- 
 erver, he did. Knocked her to her knees ; then to her 
 face ; even kicked her as she lay on the deck. He was 
 suddenly loud, wild. 
 
 "None o' this peeking around!" he cried. "Keep 
 your eyes where they belong !" And left her there. 
 
 After a little she was able to creep to the rail and 
 peer out through the flowers. Frightened members 
 of the crew were sculling the sampans back and forth, 
 until at length the whole party, every man except the 
 laopan armed, fully assembled, set off inland. 
 
 Beyond an unpleasant headache she felt no injury. 
 She sat for a little while ; then again looked fonvard. 
 The two guards were on the deck house, talking 
 excitedly together. While she watched they climbed 
 down, shouted at the huddled crew, fired a careless 
 shot or two into the mass of them that brought down 
 at least one. At length two of the crew went over 
 the side, followed by the soldiers. A moment later 
 the sampan appeared moving toward the shore, the 
 two soldiers loudly urging on the oarsmen. 
 
 Dixie, swiftly then, rearranging her disordered 
 hair as she walked, went down into the cabin. 
 
 A corridor extended along one side from the lao- 
 quarters under the steersman's house sounds of
 
 i8 7 
 
 stifled weeping came from there, apparently a woman 
 or a girl forward to the open space amidships. The 
 rooms all gave on this corridor, the doorways hung 
 with curtains of blue cotton cloth. Into one and 
 another of these rooms she looked. There was bent- 
 wood furniture and bedding in each the latter tossed 
 about. On the walls hung neat ideographic mottoes. 
 The grillwork about the windows and over the doors 
 was of a uniform and quaint design. 
 
 Connor had taken for himself the rear room. 
 There she found, beneath the window a heap of matting 
 and bedding. Thoughtfully, deliberately, she lifted it 
 off, piece by piece, exposing first a foot and leg, then 
 a bony hand, finally the entire figure of what had 
 been Jim Watson, known, of recent years, along 
 Soochow Road and Bubbling Well Road as the Manila 
 Kid. His clothing was slashed and torn in many 
 places. About his middle, and about his head, were 
 wide pools of blood that during a number of hours, 
 evidently, had been drying into the boards of the deck. 
 The neck, she observed, on closer examination, had 
 been cut through nearly to the vertebrae. 
 
 During a swift moment she considered the grew- 
 some problem ; then carefully replaced the matting and 
 bedding. 
 
 She went forward then to the end of the corridor; 
 paused to look in her shopping bag, open the triangular 
 bottle and drop a few of the green pills into the pocket 
 of her middy blouse, under her handkerchief; closed 
 the bag and stepped out on the low midships deck.
 
 188 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 The sampan had just returned to the junk. The 
 two soldiers were walking rapidly inland after Con- 
 nor's party. She let herself quickly over the side; 
 stepped into the sampan; waved toward the shore. 
 Meekly the cowed oarsmen obeyed the pantomime 
 order. 
 
 She stepped out on the bank, very slim, almost 
 pretty; tossed a Chinese Mexican dollar into the boat, 
 watched, with a faint, reflective smile, the two primi- 
 tive creatures as they fought over it; then walked 
 briskly, not without a trace of native elegance in her 
 carriage, after the soldiers, lightly swinging' her 
 shopping bag.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 IN A GARDEN 
 
 TTHE road narrow, worn to a deep-rutted little 
 canyon circled a brown hill, rose into a mud- 
 gray village, where a few listless children played among 
 the dogs, and a few apathetic beggars, and vendors of 
 cakes, and wrinkled old women stared at the thin white 
 girl who walked rapidly and alone; wound on below 
 the surface of the cultivated fields ; came, at length, to 
 a wall of gray-brick crowned with tiles of bright yellow 
 glaze and a ridge-piece of green, and at last to a gate 
 house with a heavily ornamented roof of timbers and 
 tiles. Other roofs appeared just beyond, and interlac- 
 ing foliage that was tinged, here and there, with the 
 red and yellow and bronze of autumn. 
 
 The great gates, of heavy plank studded with iron 
 spikes, stood open, apparently unattended. Dixie Car- 
 michael paused ; pursed her lips. Her coolly searching 
 eyes noted an incandescent light bulb set in the mas- 
 sive lintel. This, perhaps, would be the place. Almost 
 absently, peering through into tiled courtyards, she 
 took two of the green tablets from her pocket; then, 
 holding them in her hand, stepped within, and stood 
 
 189
 
 190 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 listening. The rustling of the leaves, she heard, 
 as they swayed in a pleasant breeze, and a softly 
 musical tinkling sound; then a murmur that might be 
 voices at a distance and in some confusion ; and then, 
 sharply, with an unearthly thrill, the silver scream of 
 a girl Yes, this would be the place. 
 
 The buildings on either hand were silent. Doors 
 stood open. Paper windows were torn here and there, 
 and the woodwork broken in. But the flowers and 
 the dwarf trees from Japan that stood in jars of Ming 
 pottery were undisturbed. 
 
 She passed through an inner gate and around a 
 screen of brick and found herself in a park. There 
 was a waterfall in a rockery, and a stream, and a 
 tiny lake. A path led over a series of little arching 
 bridges of marble into the grove beyond ; and through 
 the trees there she caught glimpses of elaborate yellow 
 roofs. On either hand stood pai-loms decorative 
 arches in the pretentious Chinese manner and beyond 
 
 each a roofed pavilion built over a bridge She 
 
 considered these ; after a moment sauntered under the 
 fair-low at her right, mounted the steps and dropped 
 on the ornamented seat behind a leafy vine. Here 
 she was sheltered from view, yet her eyes commanded 
 both the main gate and the way over the marble bridges 
 to the buildings in the grove. 
 
 She looked about with a sense of quiet pleasure at 
 the gilded fretwork beneath the curving eaves of the 
 pavilion, the painted scrolls above them, and the smooth 
 round columns of aged nanmu wood that was in color
 
 IN A GARDEN 191 
 
 like dead oak leaves and that still exhaled a vague 
 perfume. The tinkling sound set up again as another 
 breeze wandered by; and looking up she saw four 
 small bells of bronze suspended from the _eaves .... 
 She sat very still, listening, looking, thinking, draw- 
 ing in with a deep inhalation the exquisite fragrance 
 of the nanmu wood. It might be pleasant, one day, 
 to lease or even buy a home like this. So ran her alert 
 thoughts. 
 
 The murmuring from the buildings in the grove 
 continued, now swelling a little, now subsiding. 
 It was not, of itself, an alarming sound, except for an 
 occasional muffled shot. Her quick imagination, how- 
 ever, pictured the scene they would be running 
 about, calling to one another, beating in doors, rum- 
 maging everywhere. The drunkenness would doubt- 
 less be already under way. There would be much 
 casual but ingenious cruelty, an orgiastic indulgence in 
 every uttermost thrill of sense. It would be interesting 
 to see; she even considered, her nerves tightening 
 slightly at the thought, strolling back there over the 
 bridges; but held finally to her first impulse and con- 
 tinued waiting here. 
 
 A considerable time passed ; half an hour or more. 
 Then she glimpsed figures approaching slowly 
 through the grove. They emerged on the farthest of 
 the little marble bridges. One was Tex Connor; the 
 second perhaps certainly Tom Sung. They carried 
 armfuls of small boxes, at the sight of which Dixie's 
 pulse again quickened . slightly ; for these would be
 
 192 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 the jewels. Tom appeared to be talking freely; as 
 they crossed the middle bridge he broke into song; 
 and he reeled jovially. . . . Connor walked firmly on 
 ahead. 
 
 They stopped by the gate screen. Connor glanced 
 cautiously about; then moved aside into a tiled area 
 that was hidden from the gate and the path by quince 
 bushes. He called to Tom, who followed. 
 
 Miss Carmichael could look almost directly down 
 at them through the leaves. She watched closely as 
 they hurriedly opened the boxes and filled their 
 pockets with the gems. Tom used a stone to break the 
 golden settings of the larger diamonds, pearls and 
 rubies. 
 
 A low-voiced argument followed. She heard Tom 
 say, "I come back, all light. But I got have a girl !" 
 And he lurched away. 
 
 Connor, looking angrily after him, reached back 
 to his hip pocket ; but reconsidered. He needed Tom, 
 if only as interpreter; and Tom, singing unmusically 
 as he reeled away over the marble bridges, knew it. 
 
 Connor waited, standing irresolute, listening, turn- 
 ing his eye toward the gate, then toward the trees 
 behind him. The girl in the pavilion considered him. 
 She had not before observed evidence of fear in the 
 man. But then she had never before seen him in a 
 situation that tested his brain and nerve as well as his
 
 IN A GARDEN 193 
 
 animal courage. He was at heart a bully;, of course ; 
 and she knew that bullies were cowards .... What 
 small respect she had at moments felt for Tex left her 
 now. She came down to despising 1 him, as she 
 despised nearly all other men of her acquaintance. 
 Still peering through the leaves, she saw him move a 
 little way toward the gate, then glance, with a start, 
 toward the marble bridges, finally turning back to the 
 remaining boxes. 
 
 He opened one of these it was of yellow lacquer 
 richly ornamented and drew out what appeared to be 
 a tangle of strings of pearls. He turned it over in his 
 hands; spread it out; felt his pockets; finally unbut- 
 toned his shirt and thrust it in there. 
 
 It was at this point that Dixie arose, replaced the 
 green tablets in her pocket, smoothed her skirt, and 
 went lightly down the steps. He did not hear her 
 until she spoke. 
 
 "Do you think Tom'll come back, Tex?" 
 
 He whirled so clumsily that he nearly fell among 
 the boxes and the broken and trampled bits of gold and 
 silver; fixed his good eye on her, while the other, of 
 glass, gazed vacantly over her shoulder. 
 
 She coolly studied him the flushed face, bulging 
 pockets, protruding shirt where he had stuffed in those 
 astonishing ropes of pearls. 
 
 He said then, vaguely : "What are you doing here ?" 
 
 "Thought I'd come along. Suppose he stays back 
 there drinks some more. You'd be sort of up against 
 it, wouldn't you?"
 
 194 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "I'd be no worse off than you." He was evasive, 
 and more than a little sullen. She saw that he was 
 foolishly trying to keep his broad person between her 
 and the boxes. 
 
 "You couldn't handle the junk without Tom. Not 
 very well .... Look here, Tex, it can't be very far to 
 the concessions at Hankow. We could pick up a cart, 
 or even walk it." 
 
 "What good would that do?" 
 "There'll be steamers down to Shanghai." 
 "And there'll be police to drag us off." 
 "How can they ? What can they pin on you ?" 
 Connor's eye wavered back toward the grove and 
 the buildings. He was again breathing hard. "After 
 all this . . " he muttered. "That old viceroy'll be up 
 here, you know. With his mob, too. And there's 
 
 plenty of people here to tell " He was trying now 
 
 to hold an arm across his middle in a position that 
 would conceal the treasure there. 
 
 Her glance followed the motion, and for a moment 
 a faintly mocking smile hovered about her thin mouth. 
 She said: "Saving those pearls for me, Tex?" 
 
 He stared at her, fixed her with that one small 
 eye, but offered not a word. A moment later, how- 
 ever, nervously signaling her to be still he brushed by 
 and peeped out around the quinces. 
 
 "What is it?" she asked quickly; then moved to 
 his side.
 
 IN A GARDEN 195 
 
 Immediately beyond the farthest of the marble 
 bridges stood a group of ten or twelve soldiers in 
 drunkenly earnest argument. Above them towered the 
 powerful shoulders and small round head of Tom 
 Sung. In the one quick glance she caught an impres- 
 sion of rifles slung across sturdy backs, of bayonets 
 that seemed, at that distance, oddly dark in color; an 
 impression, too, of confused minds and a growing 
 primitive instinct for violence. Tom and another 
 swayed toward the bridge ; others drew them back and 
 pointed toward the buildings they had left. The argu- 
 ment waxed. Voices were shrilly emphatic. 
 
 "Looks bad," said the girl at Connor's shoulder. 
 "You've let 'em get out of hand, Tex." Then, as she 
 saw him nervously measuring with his eye the width 
 of the open space between the quinces and the gate 
 screen, she added: "Thinking of making a run for 
 it, Tex?" 
 
 He slowly swung that eye on her now ; and for no 
 reason pushed her roughly away. "It's none of your 
 business what I'm going to do," he replied roughly. 
 
 But the voice was husky, and curiously light in 
 quality. And the eye wavered away from her intent 
 look. This creature fell far short of the Tex Connor 
 of old. She spoke sharply. 
 
 "Come up into this summer-house, Tex!" she indi- 
 cated it with an upward jerk of her head "They won't 
 see us there, at first. You didn't see me. You've got
 
 196 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 your pistols. You can give me one. We ought to 
 be able to stand off a few Chinese drunks." 
 
 She could see that he was fumbling about for 
 courage, for a plan, in a mind that had broken down 
 utterly. His growl of "I'm not giving you any 
 pistol !" was the flimsiest of cover. And so she left 
 him, choosing a moment when that loud argument 
 beyond the bridges was at its height to run lightly up 
 the steps and into the pavilion. 
 
 From this point she looked down on the thick- 
 minded Connor as he struggled between cupidity, fear 
 and the bluffing pride that was so deep a strain in the 
 man. The one certain fact was that he couldn't pur- 
 poselessly wait there, with Tom Sung leading these 
 outlawed soldiers to a deed he feared to undertake 
 alone .... They were coming over the bridges now, 
 Tom in the lead, lurching along and brandishing his 
 revolver, the others unslinging their rifles. The argu- 
 ment had ceased ; they were ominously quiet. 
 
 Dixie got her tablets out again; then sat waiting, 
 that faint mocking smile again touching the corners of 
 her mouth. But the smile now meant an excitement 
 bordering on the thrill she had lately envied the savage 
 folk in the grove. Such a thrill had moved those cold- 
 eyed women who sat above the combat of gladiators in 
 the Colosseum and with thumbs down awaited the 
 death agony of a fallen warrior. It had been respect- 
 able then ; now it was the perverse pleasure of a solitary; 
 social outcast. But to this girl who could be moved by 
 no simple pleasure it came as a gratifying substitute
 
 IN A GARDEN 197 
 
 x 
 
 for happiness. Her own danger but added a sharp 
 edge to the exquisite sensation. It was the ultimate 
 gamble, in a life in which only gambling mattered. 
 
 Connor was fumbling first at a hip pocket where 
 a pistol bulged, then at a side pocket that bulged with 
 precious stones. His eye darted this way and that. 
 His cheeks had changed in color to a pasty gray. The 
 girl thought for a moment that he had actually gone 
 out of his head. 
 
 His action, when it finally came, was grotesquely 
 romantic. She thought, in a flash, of the adventure 
 novels she had so often seen him reading. It was to 
 her absurd ; even madly comic. For with those bulging 
 pockets and that gray face, a criminal run to earth 
 by his cruder confederates, he fell back on dignity. 
 He strode directly out into the path, with a sort of 
 mock firmness, and, like a policeman on a busy corner, 
 raised his hand. 
 
 Even at that he might have impressed the soldiers ; 
 for he was white, and had been their vital and vigorous 
 leader, and they were yellow and low-bred and drunk. 
 As it was, they actually stopped, just over the nearest 
 bridge; gave the odd appearance of huddling uncer- 
 tainly there. But Connor could not hold the pose. He 
 broke; looked wildly about; started, puffing like a 
 spent runner, up the steps of the pavilion where the 
 girl, leaning slightly forward, drawing in her breath 
 sharply through parted lips, looked through the leaves. 
 
 Several of the rifles cracked then; she heard 
 bullets sing by. And Connor fell forward on the steps,
 
 198 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 clawed at them for a moment, and lay still in a slowly 
 widening pool of thick blood. He had not so much 
 as drawn a weapon. Tex Connpr was gone. 
 
 1 
 
 They came on, laughing, with a good deal of rough 
 fanter, and gathered up the jewels. Tom and another 
 mounted the steps to the body and went through the 
 pockets of his trousers for the jewels that were there 
 and the pistols. As there was no coat they did not 
 look further. And then, merrily, they went back over 
 the marble bridges to the buildings in the grove where 
 were still, perhaps, liquor and women. 
 
 When the last of their shouts had died out, when 
 laying her head against the fragrant wood she could 
 hear again the musical tinkling of the bronze bells 
 and the pleasant murmuring of the tiny waterfall and 
 the sighing of the leaves, Dixie slipped down to the 
 body, fastidiously avoiding the blood. It was heavy; 
 she exerted all her wiry strength in rolling it partly 
 over. Then, drawing out the curious net of pearls 
 she let the body roll back. 
 
 Returning to her sheltered seat she spread on her 
 lap the amazing garment ; for a garment of some sort 
 it appeared to be. There was even a row of golden 
 clasps set with very large diamonds. At a rough 
 estimate she decided that there were all of three thous- 
 and to four thousand perfect pearls in the numerous 
 strings. Turning and twisting it about, she: hit on
 
 IN A GARDEN 199 
 
 the notion of drawing it about her shoulders and found 
 that it settled there like a cape. It was, indeed, just 
 that a cape of pearls. She did not know that it was 
 the only garment of its precise sort in the world, that 
 it had passed from one royal person to another until, 
 after the death of the Old Buddha in 1908 it fell into 
 the hands of his excellency, Kang Yu. 
 
 She took it off ; stood erect ; pulled out her loosely 
 hanging middy blouse; and twisting the strings into 
 a rope fastened it about her waist, rearranging the 
 blouse over it. The concealment was perfect. 
 
 She sat again, then, to think out the next step. 
 Returning to the junk was out of the question. It 
 would be better to get somehow up to the concessions 
 and trust to her wits to explain her presence there. 
 For Tex had been shrewd enough about that. The 
 concessions were a small bit of earth with but one or 
 two possible hotels, full of white folk and fuller of 
 gossip. She had had her little difficulties with the 
 consuls as with the rough-riding American judge who 
 took his itinerant court from port to port announcing 
 firmly that he purposed ridding the East of such 
 "American girls" as she. Dawley Kane would surely 
 be there, and other survivors of the fire.... It all 
 meant picking up a passage down the river at the 
 earliest possible moment ; and running grave chances at 
 that But her great strength lay in her impregnable 
 self-confidence. She feared herself least of all. 
 
 Another problem was the getting to the conces- 
 sions. It was not the best of times for a girl to walk
 
 200 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 the highway alone. To be sure, she had come safely 
 through from the junk; but it had not been far, and 
 she hadn't had to approach a native army. She decided 
 to wait an hour or st>, until the plunderers there in 
 the grove should be fully drunk ; then, if at the moment 
 it seemed the thing, to slip out and make a try for it. 
 
 And then, a little later, evidently from the road 
 outside the wall, came a new sort of confused sounds ; 
 music, of flageolets and strings, and falsetto voices, 
 and with it a low-pitched babel of many tongues. 
 Whoever these new folk might be, they appeared to 
 be turning in at the open gate. The music stopped 
 abruptly, in a low whine of discord, and the talk rose 
 in pitch. Over the brick screen appeared banners mov- 
 ing jerkily about, dipping and rising, as if in the hands 
 of agitated persons below; a black banner, bearing in 
 its center the triple imperial emblems of the Sun, the 
 other two yellow, one blazoning the familiar dragon, 
 the other a phoenix. 
 
 A few banner men appeared peeping cautiously 
 about the screen; Manchu soldiers of the old effete 
 army, bearing short rifles. They came on, cautiously 
 into the park, joined in a moment by others. An 
 officer with a queue and an old-fashioned sword and a 
 military cap in place of a turban followed and, forming 
 them into a ragged column of fours, marched them 
 over the marble bridges and into the grove, where 
 they disappeared from view. 
 
 Then a gorgeously colored sedan chair came sway- 
 ing in, carried by many bearers walking under stout
 
 IN A GARDEN 201 
 
 bamboo cross-poles. Others, in the more elaborate 
 dress of officials, walked beside and behind it. Then 
 came more soldiers, who straggled informally about, 
 some even dropping on the gravel to rest their evidently 
 weary bodies. 
 
 The chair was opened in front and a tall fat man 
 stepped rather pompously out, wearing a robe of rose 
 and blue and the brightly embroidered insignia and 
 cap button of a mandarin of the fourth rank. At once 
 a servant stepped forward with a huge umbrella which 
 he opened and held over the fat man. And then they 
 waited, all of them, standing or lying about and talking 
 in excited groups. Several of the officials hurried 
 back around the screen as if to examine the deserted 
 apartments just within the gate, and shortly returned 
 
 with much to say in their musical singsong An 
 
 officer espied the body of Connor lying on the steps of 
 the pavilion, and came with others, excitedly, to the 
 foot of the steps. The key of the confused talk rose at 
 once. There was an excited conference of many ranks 
 about the tall fat man under the umbrella. 
 
 Then came, from the grove, that same sound of 
 muffled shots, followed by a breathless pause. More 
 shots then, and increasing excitement here by the 
 screen. A number of the soldiers who had crossed 
 the bridges appeared, running. The man in the lead 
 had lost turban and rifle; as he drew near blood could 
 be seen on his face. And now, abruptly, the officials 
 and the ragtag and bobtail by the screen pole-bearers, 
 lictors, runners, soldiers lost their heads. Some ran
 
 202 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 this way and that, even into the bushes, only to reap- 
 pear and follow their clearer-headed brethren out to 
 the gate. The umbrella-bearer dropped his burden and 
 vanished. The fugitives from the grove were among 
 the panic-stricken group now, racing with them for the 
 gate and the highway without; scurrying around the 
 end of the screen like frightened rabbits; and in pur- 
 suit, cheering and yelling, came many of the soldiers 
 from the junk. 
 
 They caught the tall fat mandarin, as he was wad- 
 dling around the screen, wounded by a chance shot; 
 leaped upon him, bringing him down screaming with 
 fear ; beat and kicked him ; with their knives and bay- 
 onets performing subtle acts of torture which gave 
 them evident pleasure and of which the coldly observ- 
 ant Dixie Carmichael lost no detail. When the fat 
 body lay inert, not before, they took the sword of a 
 fallen officer and cut off the head, hacking clumsily. 
 The head they placed on a pole, marching noisily about 
 with it ; finally setting the pole upright beside the first 
 of the little marble bridges. Then, at last, they wan- 
 dered back into the grove and left the grisly object 
 on the pole to dominate obscenely the garden they had 
 profaned. 
 
 Dixie leaned against the smooth sweet surface of 
 the nanmu wood and listened, again, to the pleasantly; 
 soft sounds of waterfall and moving leaves and little 
 bronze bells. Her face was chalk white ; her thin hands 
 lay limp in her lap ; she knew, with an abrupt sensation 
 of sinking, that she was profoundly tired. But in her
 
 IN A GARDEN 203 
 
 brain burned still a cold white flame of excitement. 
 Life, her instinct as the veriest child had informed 
 her, was anything, everything, but the simple copy- 
 book pattern expounded by the naive folk of America 
 and England. Life, as she critically saw it, was a 
 complex of primitive impulses tempered by greeds, 
 dreams and amazing subtleties. It was blindly posses- 
 sive, carelessly repellent, creative and destructive in a 
 breath, at once warm and cold, kindly and savage, 
 impersonally heedless of the helpless human creatures 
 that drifted hither and yon before the winds of 
 chance. Cunning, in the world she saw about her, won 
 always further than virtue, and often further than 
 force. 
 
 She could not take her eyes, during a long period, 
 from the hideous object on the pole. Her over-stimu- 
 lated thoughts were reaching quickly, sharply, far in 
 every direction. The feeling came, grew into belief, 
 that she was, mysteriously, out of her danger. She 
 felt the ropes of pearls under her blouse with an ecstatic 
 little catch of the breath; and (finally) letting her 
 eyes drop to that other ugly object on the steps beneath 
 her, slowly opened her bag, drew out the bracelet 
 watch (that the Manila Kid had given her out of an 
 absurd hope) and fastened it about her wrist. And 
 her eyes were bright with triumph.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 YOUTH 
 
 ""THERE came for his excellency, as the sun mounted 
 the sky, a large junk of his own river fleet great 
 brown sails flapping against the five masts of all 
 heights that pointed up at crazily various angles, pen- 
 nons flying at each masthead, hull weathered darkly, 
 mats and fenders of woven hemp hung over the poop- 
 rail, and a swarming pigtailed crew at the sweeps and 
 overside on the sponson and hard at the tracking ropes 
 as the tai-kung screamed from the bow and the lao- 
 pcm shouted from the poop. 
 
 They were ferried aboard in the small boat, Kang 
 with his daughters and his suite and servants, a hand- 
 ful of pitifully wailing women, young Kane and 
 Griggsby Doane. Then the trackers cast off from the 
 shore and the mooring poles, the sweeps moved, and 
 with the laopon musically calling the stroke the junk 
 moved laboriously up-stream toward the home of his 
 excellency's ancestors. 
 
 Crowded into the ttiinviting cabins the weary trav- 
 elers sought a few hours of rest Even the servants 
 and the mourning women, under the mattings forward, 
 
 204
 
 YOUTH 205 
 
 fell swiftly asleep. Only Rocky Kane, his eyes staring 
 widely out of a sensitively white face, walked the 
 deck ; until the thought a new sort of thought in the 
 life of this headstrong youth that he would be dis- 
 turbing those below drove him aft, out beyond the 
 steersman to the over-hanging gallery. Here he sat 
 on the bamboo rail and gazed moodily down at the 
 tireless, mighty river flowing off astern. 
 
 The good in the boy made up of the intelligence, 
 the deep-smoldering conscience, the fineness that were 
 woven out of his confused heritage into his fiber 
 was rising now like a tide in his spirit ; and the experi- 
 ence was intensely painful. It seemed to his undis- 
 ciplined mind that he was, in certain of his aspects, an 
 incredible monster. There had been wild acts back 
 home, a crazy instinct for excess that now took on dis- 
 tinctness of outline ; moments of careless evil in Japan 
 and Shanghai; the continuous subtle conflict with his 
 father in which any evasion had seemed fair ; but above 
 all these vivid memory-scenes that raced like an uncon- 
 trollably swift panorama through his over-alert brain 
 stood out his vicious conduct on the ship. It was 
 impossible at this moment to realize mentally that the 
 Princess Hui Fei was now his friend ; he could see her 
 only in the bright Manchu costume as she had appeared 
 when he first so uncouthly spoke to her. And there 
 were, too, the ugly moments with the strange girl 
 known as Dixie Carmichael. That part of it was only 
 a nightmare now.... The racing in his brain fright- 
 ened him. He stared at the dimpling yellow river, at
 
 206 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 a fishing boat, and finally lifted his hurt eyes to the 
 
 bright sky He had been going straight to hell, he 
 
 told himself, mumbling the words softly aloud. And 
 then this lovely girl had brought him into confusion 
 and humility. Suddenly he had broken with his father ; 
 that, in itself, seemed curiously unaccountable, yet 
 
 there the fact stood Life eager, crowding had 
 
 rushed him off his feet. He felt wildly adrift, carried 
 on currents that he could not stem. .... He was, 
 indeed, passing through one of life's deepest experi- 
 ences, one known to the somewhat unimaginative and 
 intolerant people whose blood ran in his veins as con- 
 viction of sin. His own careless life had overtaken 
 and confronted him. It had to be a bitter moment. 
 There was terror in it. And there was no escaping ; it 
 had to be lived through. 
 
 A merry voice called ; there was the patter of soft- 
 clad feet, and in a moment the little princess in her 
 yellow hood with the fox head on the crown was climb- 
 ing into his lap. Eagerly, tenderly, he lifted her; cud- 
 dled her close and kissed her soft cheek. Tears were 
 frankly in his eyes now. 
 
 He laughed with her, nervously at first, then, in 
 the quick responsiveness of youth, with good humor. 
 She came to him as health. Together they watched 
 the diving cormorants and the wading buffalo. Then 
 he hunted about until he found a bit of board and a 
 ball of twine; whittled the board into a flat boat, 
 stuck a little mast in it with a white sail made from a 
 letter from his pocket, and towed it astern. Together
 
 YOUTH 207 
 
 they hung on the rail, watching the craft as it bobbed 
 over the little waves and laughing when it capsized 
 and lost its sail. 
 
 She climbed into his lap again after that, and 
 scolded him for making the unintelligible English 
 sounds, and made signs for him to smoke; and he 
 showed her his water-soaked cigarettes. 
 
 At a low-pitched exclamation he turned with a 
 nervous start. The tall eunuch stood on the cabin roof ; 
 came quickly forward for the child. And beside him 
 was Miss Hui Fei, still of course wearing the Chinese 
 coat and trousers in which she had escaped from the 
 steamer. She had, under the warm sun, thrown aside 
 the curiously modern opera wrap. She was slim, 
 young, delicately feminine. The boy gazed at her 
 reverently. She seemed to him a fairy, an unearthly 
 creature, worlds beyond his reach. In his excitement, 
 but a few hours back in what he had supposed to be 
 their last moment together, in what, indeed, had seemed 
 the end of the world he had declared his love for her. 
 That had been an uprush of pure emotion. . . . He 
 recalled it now, yet found it difficult to accept as an 
 occurrence. The actual world had turned unreal to 
 him, as it does to the sensitively young that suffer 
 poignantly. 
 
 To this grave young woman, oddly his shipmate, 
 he could hardly, he felt now, have spoken a personal
 
 208 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 word. Their acquaintance had begun at a high emo- 
 tional pitch; now it must begin again, normally. So 
 it seemed to him. 
 
 "We were looking for my li'l sister," she explained, 
 and half turned. The eunuch had already disappeared 
 with the child. 
 
 "Won't you sit out here- with me?" He spoke 
 hesitantly. "That is, unless you are too tired to visit." 
 
 "I coul'n' sleep," said she. 
 
 Slowly she came out on the gallery. 
 
 "There aren't any chairs," said he. "Perhaps I 
 could find " 
 
 "I don' mind." She sank to the floor; leaned 
 wearily against the rail. He settled himself in a corner. 
 
 "I couldn't sleep either. You see Miss Hui 
 Miss Fei" he broke into a chuckle of embarrassment 
 "honest I don't know what to call you." 
 
 The unexpected touch of boyish good humor moved 
 her nearly to a smile. Boyish he was, sitting with his 
 feet curled up, stabbing at the deck with his jack- 
 knife, coatless, collarless, his thick hair tousled, blush- 
 ing pleasantly. 
 
 "My frien's call me Hui," she replied simply. 
 
 "Oh really ! May I If you would of course 
 I know that but my friends call me Rocky. The 
 whole thing is Rockingham Bruce Kane. But . . . . " 
 
 "I'll call you Misser Kane," said she. 
 
 His face fell a very little ; but quickly he recovered 
 himself.
 
 YOUTH 209 
 
 "You must have wondered I suppose it seems as 
 if I've done a rather crazy thing it must seem so. . ." 
 
 She murmured, "Oh, no!" 
 
 "Attaching myself to your party this way at 
 such a difficult time. I know it was a pretty impulsive 
 thing to do, but . . . . " 
 
 His voice trailed into silence. For a brief moment 
 this wild act seemed, however different in its signifi- 
 cance to himself, of a piece with his other wild acts. 
 It was, perhaps, like all those, merely ungoverned 
 egotism. Her voice broke sweetly in on this moment 
 of gloomy reverie. 
 
 "We know tha' you woul' help us if you coul'. 
 An' you were -so won'erful." 
 
 "If I only could help ! You see when I spoke that 
 way to you I mean telling you I loved you " 
 
 "Please! We won' talk abou' tha'." 
 
 "No. We won't Except just this. I was beside 
 myself. But even then, or pretty soon afterward, I 
 knew it was just plain selfishness." 
 
 "You mus'n' say that, either. Please !" 
 
 "No just this! Of course you don't know me. 
 What you do know is all against me " 
 
 "I have forgotten " 
 
 "You will never forget. But even if you were 
 some day to like me more than you could now, I know 
 it would take a long time. I've got to earn the right 
 to be really your friend first. I'm going to try to do 
 that. I've started all over to-day my life, I mean. 
 I'm just simply beginning again. There's a good long
 
 210 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 scrap ahead of me. That's all about that ! But please 
 believe that I've got a little sanity in me." 
 "Oh, I'm sure" 
 
 "I have. Jumping overboard like that, and swim- 
 ming back to you it wasn't just crazy impulse, like 
 so many of the things I've done. You see, my father 
 knows you and your father yes, I mean the terrible 
 trouble you're in. Oh, everything comes to him, 
 sooner or later. All the facts. You have to figure on 
 that, with the pater. He well, he wanted me to stop 
 thinking about you. He was afraid I'd be writing to 
 you, or something. You see, he'd watched us talking 
 there by the fire. And he told me about this this 
 dreadful thing. And then I had to come back. Don't 
 you see? I couldn't go on, leaving you like this. Of 
 course, it's likely enough I'm just in the way here " 
 She was smiling wearily, pathetically, now. 
 "Oh, no" she began. 
 
 "It's this way," he swept impetuously on. "Maybe 
 I can help. Anyway, I've got to try. If your father 
 really " He saw the slight shudder that passed 
 through her slender body, and abruptly checked the 
 rapid flow of words. "We've got to take care of 
 you," he said, with surprising gravity and kindness. 
 "You'll have to get back with the white people. You 
 mustn't be left with the yellow." 
 
 "I know," said she, the strength nearly gone from 
 her voice. "It always seems to me that I'm an Ameri- 
 can. Though sometimes I ge' confuse'. It isn' easy 
 to think."
 
 YOUTH 211 
 
 "I'm simply wearing you out I mustn't. But 
 just this remember that I know all about it. I've 
 broken with my father, for the present, and I'm happy 
 about that. I have got some money of my own quite 
 a little. I've even got a wet letter of credit in my 
 pocket. I had just sense enough last night to get it 
 out of my coat. It's no good, of course, outside of the 
 treaty ports, but it's there. I'm here to help. And I 
 do want to feel that you'll call on me for anything 
 and as for the rest of it " 
 
 He had thought himself unusually clear and cool, 
 but at this point his voice clouded and broke. He 
 glanced timidly at her, and saw that her eyes were full 
 of tears. He had to look away then. And during a 
 long few moments they sat without a word. 
 
 Then the thought came, "I'm here to help!" It 
 was a stirring thought. He had never helped, never in 
 his life that he could remember. And yet the Kanes 
 did things ; they were strong men. 
 
 He was moodily skipping his knife over his hand, 
 trying to catch the point in the soft wood. Abruptly, 
 with a surprising smile, he looked up and asked : "Ever 
 play mumbletepeg ?" 
 
 Her troubled eyes for an instant met his. He 
 chuckled again in that boyish way. And she, ner- 
 vously, chuckled too. That seemed good. 
 
 "It's sort of hard to make the blade stick in this 
 wood," he said eag-erly. "But we can do some of the 
 things."
 
 212 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 Griggsby Doane, too, was far from sleep. For 
 that matter, he was of the strong mature sort that 
 needs little, that can work long hours and endure 
 severe strain without weakening. Moving aft over 
 the poop he saw them, playing like two children, and 
 stepped quietly behind the slanting short mast that 
 overhung the steersman. 
 
 They made a charming picture, laughing softly 
 as they tossed the knife. It hadn't before occurred 
 to him that young Kane had charm. Plainly, now, 
 he had. And it was good for Hui Fei, in this hour 
 of tragic suspense. Youth, of course, would call unto 
 youth. That was the natural thing. He tried to force 
 himself to see it in that light but he moved forward 
 with a heavy heart. 
 
 The junk plowed deliberately against the current. 
 The monotonous voice of the chanting laopcm, the 
 rhythmical splash and creak of the sweeps, the synco- 
 pated continuous song of the crowded oarsman, an 
 occasional warning cry from the tai-kung these were 
 the only sounds. Elsewhere, lying in groups about 
 the deck, the castaways slumbered. 
 
 But Doane knew that his excellency was awake, 
 shut away in the laopan's cabin, for repeatedly he 
 had heard him moving about. Once, through a thin 
 partition, had come the sound of a chair scraping. It 
 would mean that Kang was preparing his final papers. 
 These would be paJhstakingly done. There would be
 
 YOUTH 213 
 
 memorials to the throne and to his children and friends, 
 couched in the language of a master of the classics, 
 rich in the literary allusions dear to the heart of the 
 scholar, Manchu and Chinese alike. 
 
 Doane found a seat on a coil of the heavy tracking 
 rope. His own part in the drama through which they 
 were all so strangely living could be only passive. He 
 would serve as he might. His little dream of personal 
 happiness, with a woman to love and new strong work 
 to be somehow begun, was wholly gone. 
 
 Slowly, foot by foot, the clumsy craft crept up the 
 river. And strangely the scene held its peaceful, 
 intensely busy character. Everywhere, as if there 
 were no revolution, as if the old river had never 
 known wreckage and bloodshed, the country folk 
 toiled in the fields. Junks passed. Irrigating wheels 
 turned endlessly. Fishermen sat patiently watching 
 their cormorants or lowering and lifting their nets. 
 A big English steamer came booming down, with white 
 passengers out of bloody Hankow (the looting and 
 burning of the native city must have been going on 
 just then, before the reinforced imperial troops drove 
 the republicans back across the river). They lay 
 about in deck chairs, these white passengers; or, 
 doubtless, played bridge in the smoking-room. And 
 Doane, as so often during his long life, felt his 
 thoughts turning from these idle, self-important 
 whites, back to the oldest of living peoples; and he 
 dwelt on their incalculable energy, their incredible 
 numbers, their ceaseless individual struggle with the
 
 214 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 land and water that kept them, at best, barely above 
 the line of mere sustenance. 
 
 It was difficult, pondering all this, to believe that 
 any revolution could deeply stir this vast preoccupied 
 people, submerged as they appeared to be in ancient 
 habit. The revolution could succeed only if the 
 Manchu government was ready to fall apart from the 
 weakness of sheer decadence. It was nothing, this 
 revolution, but the desperate work of agitators who 
 had glimpsed the wealth and the individualistic tenden- 
 cies of the West. And the hot-blooded Cantonese, of 
 course. Most of the Chinese in America were Canton- 
 ese. The revolution was, then, a Southern matter; it 
 was these tropical men that had come to know Amer- 
 ica. That was about its only strength. The great 
 mass of yellow folk here in the Yangtze Valley, and 
 through the coast provinces, and all over the great cen- 
 tral plain and the North and Northwest were peaceable 
 at heart; only those Southerners were truculent, they 
 and the scattered handfuls of students. 
 
 And yet, China, in the hopeful hearts of those who 
 knew and loved the old traditions, must somehow be 
 modernized. Sooner or later the Manchus would fall. 
 The vast patient multitude must then either learn to 
 think for themselves in terms of modern, large-scale 
 organization or fall into deeper degradation. The 
 European trading nations would strike deep and hard 
 in a sordid struggle for the remaining native wealth. 
 The Japanese, with iron policy and intriguing hand 
 would destroy their institutions and bring them into 
 a pitiful slavery, economic and military.
 
 YOUTH 21.5 
 
 His own life, Doane reflected, must be spent in 
 some way to help this great people. The individual, 
 confronted by so vast a problem, seemed nothing. But 
 the effort had to be made. Since he was not a trader, 
 since he could not hope now to find himself in step 
 with the white generation that had passed him by, 
 all that was left was to pitch in out here. The call of 
 the martyred Sun Shi-pi pointed a way. 
 
 The personal difficulty only remained. The man 
 who loses step with his own people and his own time 
 must submit to being rolled under and trampled on. 
 There is no other form of loneliness so deep or so 
 .bitter. And seeing nothing above and about him but 
 the hard under side of this hard white civilization, 
 the unfortunate one can not hope to retain in full 
 vigor the incentive to effort that is the magic of the 
 creative white race. Every circumstance now seemed 
 combined to hold him down and under. The philosophy 
 of the East with which his spirit was saturated argued 
 for contemplation, submission, negation (as did, for 
 that matter, the gospel of that Jesus to whose life the 
 peoples that called themselves Christian, in their every 
 activity, every day, gave the lie). His only driving 
 power, then, must come out of the white spark that 
 was, after all, in his blood. It was only as a discord- 
 antly active white that he could help the yellow men 
 he loved .... And the one great incentive love, com- 
 panionship, for which his strong heart hungered had 
 flickered before him only to die out. He must some- 
 how, at that, prove worthy. It was to be just one
 
 2i6 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 more great effort in a life of prodigiously wasted 
 effort .... He thought, as he had thought before, in 
 bitter hours, of Gethsemane. But he knew, now, that 
 he purposed going on. Once again he was to dedicate 
 his vigor to a cause ; but this time without the hope of 
 youth and without love walking at his side. 
 
 And then, quaintly, alluringly, the picture of Hui 
 Fei took form before his mind's eye, as if to mock 
 fris laborious philosophy, charm it away. Like that 
 of a boy his quick imagination wove about her bright 
 youth, her piquant new-old worldliness, shining veils 
 of illusion. It was, then, to be so. He was to live on, 
 sadly, with a dream that would not die. ... .He bowed 
 his head. 
 
 4 
 
 Their play brought relief to the overwrought 
 nerves of the two young people. After a time they 
 settled comfortably against the rail. 
 
 "You lost all your things on the steamer?" said he. 
 
 "Ever'thing." 
 
 "So did I." He smiled ruefully. "Even part of 
 my clothes. But it doesn't matter." 
 
 "I di'n' like to lose all my pretty things," said she. 
 "But they're gone now. All excep' my opera cloak. 
 An' I'm jus' a Manchu girl again. It's so strange 
 only yes'erday it seem' to me I was a real American. 
 I los' my books, too all my books." 
 
 He glanced up quickly. "You're fond of reading ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes. Aren' you?"
 
 YOUTH 217 
 
 "Why no, I haven't been. The fellows and girls 
 I've known didn't read much." 
 
 "Tha' seems funny. When you have so much. 
 And it's so easy to read English. Chinese is ver' 
 hard." 
 
 "What books have you read mostly?" 
 
 She smiled. "Oh, I coul'n' say. So many! I've 
 read the classics, of course Shakespeare an' Milton 
 and Chaucer. Chaucer is so modern don' you think ? 
 I mean the way he makes pictures with words." 
 
 "What would you think," said he, "if I confessed 
 that I cut all those old fellows at school and college?" 
 
 "I've thought often," said she gravely, "tha' you 
 Americans are spoil' because you have so much. So 
 much of everything." 
 
 "Perhaps. I don't know. The fellows feel that 
 those things don't help much in later life." 
 
 "Oh, bu' they do! You mus' have a knowledge of 
 literature an' philosophy. Wha' do they go to college 
 for?" 
 
 "Well " Inwardly, he winced. He felt himself, 
 without resentment, without the faintest desire to 
 defend the life he had known, at a disadvantage. "To 
 tell the truth, I suppose we go partly for a good time. 
 It puts off going into business four years, you know, 
 and once you start in business you've got to get down 
 to it. Then there's all the athletics, and the friends 
 you make. Of course, most of the fellows realize tHat 
 if they make the right kind of friendships it'll help, 
 later, in the big game."
 
 218 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "You mean with the sons of other rich men?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "Why, no, not yes, come to think of it, I suppose 
 that's just what I do mean. Do you know here with 
 you, it doesn't look like much of a picture does it ?" 
 
 Thoughtfully she moved her head in the negative. 
 "I know a goo' deal about it," said she. "I've watch' 
 the college men in America. Some of them, I think, 
 are pretty foolish." 
 
 "I suppose we are," said he glumly. "But would 
 you have a fellow just go in for digging?" 
 
 She inclined her head. "I woul'. It is a grea' 
 privilege to have years for study." 
 
 He was flushing. "But you're not a dig! You 
 you dance, you know about things, you can wear 
 clothes " 
 
 "I don' think study is like work to me. I love it. 
 An' I love people every kin', scholars, working people 
 you know, every kin'." 
 
 His moody eyes took in her eagerly mobile face; 
 then dropped, and he stabbed his knife at the deck. 
 
 "Of course, we know that all is no' right in Amer- 
 ica. The men of money have too much power. The 
 governmen' is confuse', sometimes very weak and 
 foolish. The newspapers don' tell all the things they 
 shouT. But it is so healthy, jus' the same! There is 
 so much chance for ever' kin' of idea to be hear' ! An' 
 so many won'erful books! Often I think you real 
 Americans don' know how won'erful it is. You get 
 excite' abou' little things. I love America. The
 
 YOUTH 219 
 
 women are free there. There is more hope there than 
 anywhere else in the worl'. An' I wish China coul' 
 be like that." 
 
 "I quit college," said he. "You see, I've never 
 looked at things as you do." 
 
 "Bu' you have such a won'erful chance!" 
 
 "I know. And I've wasted it. But I'm changing. 
 I it wouldn't be fair of course to talk about about 
 what I was talking about not now but I am seeing 
 things everything through new eyes. They're your 
 eyes. I'm going at the thing differently. You see, 
 the Kanes, when you get right down to it, don't think 
 about anything but money." 
 
 "I like to think about beauty," said she. 
 
 "I wonder if I could do that." 
 
 "Why no'?" 
 
 "Well it's kind of a new idea." 
 
 "Listen!" she reached out, plainly without a per- 
 sonal thought, and took his hand. "I'm going to red' 
 some poetry that I love." 
 
 Thrilled by the clasp of her hand, his mind eager 
 wax to the impress of her stronger mind, his gaze 
 clinging to her pretty mouth, he listened while she 
 repeated the little poem of W. B. Yeats beginning : 
 
 "All the words that I utter, 
 
 And all the words that I write . . . " 
 
 At first he stirred restlessly; then watching, dog- 
 like, fell to listening. The disconcerting thing was
 
 220 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 that it could mean so much to her. For it did her 
 dark eyes were bright, and her chin was uplifted. Her 
 quaint accent and her soft, sweet voice touched his 
 spirit with an exquisite vague pain. 
 
 "It is music," said she. 
 
 "I don't see how you remember it all," said he 
 listlessly. 
 
 "Jus' the soun's. Oh, it woul' be won'erful to 
 make words do that. So often I wish I ha' been born 
 American, so it woul' be my language too." 
 
 She fent on, breathlessly, with Yeats's 
 
 "When you are old and gray and full of sleep. . ." 
 
 And then, still in pensive vein, she took up Kip- 
 ling's L'Envoi the one beginning "There's a 
 whisper down the field." Clearly she felt the sea, 
 too; and the yearning of those wandering souls to 
 whom life is a wistful adventure and the world an 
 inviting labyrinth of beautiful hours. She seemed to 
 know the Child's Garden of Verses from cover to cover, 
 and other verse of Stevenson's. It was all strange to 
 him, except "In winter I get up at night." He knew 
 that as a song. 
 
 And so it came about that on a dingy Yangtze 
 junk, at the feet of a Manchu girl from America, 
 Rocky Kane felt for the first time the glow and thrill 
 of finely rhythmical English. 
 
 She went on, almost as if she had forgotten him. 
 William Watson's April, April she loved, she said, and
 
 YOUTH 221 
 
 read it with a quick feeling for the capricious blend of 
 smiles and tears. It dawned on him that she was a 
 born actress. He did not know, of course, that the 
 theatrical tradition lies deeper in Manchu and Chinese 
 culture than in that of any Western people. 
 
 She recited the beautiful Song of Richard Le Gal- 
 liene, beginning: 
 
 "She's somewhere in the sunlight strong...." 
 
 And followed this with bits from Bliss Carman, and 
 other bits from Henley's London Nocturnes, and from 
 Wilfred Blunt and Swinburne and Mrs. Browning. 
 She had a curiously strong feeling for the color of 
 Medieval Italy. She spoke reverently of Dante. Vil- 
 lon she knew, too, and Racine and the French classi- 
 cists. She even murmured tenderly de Musset's J'ai 
 dis a man coeur, in French of which he caught not a 
 word and was ashamed. For he had cut French, too. 
 And then, as the sun mounted higher and the 
 gentle rush of the river along the hull and the contin- 
 uous chantey of the oarsmen floated more and more 
 soothingly to their ears, they fell quiet, her hand still 
 pleasantly in his. Together they hummed certain of 
 the current popular songs, he thinking them good, she 
 smiling not unhappily as her voice blended prettily 
 with his. And Griggsby Doane heard them. 
 
 At last she murmured : "I think I coul' rest now." 
 "I'm glad," said he, and drew down a coil of rope 
 for a pillow, and left her sleeping there.
 
 222 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 Doane heard his step, but for a moment could not 
 lift his head. Finally the boy, standing respectfully, 
 ( spoke his name: "Mr. Doane!" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "May I sit here with you?" 
 
 "Of course. Do." 
 
 "I've got to talk to somebody. It's so strange. You 
 see, she and I Miss Hui Fei it's all been such a 
 whirl I couldn't think, but " 
 
 That sentence never got finished. The boy dropped 
 down on the deck and clasped his knees. Doane, very 
 gravely, considered him. He was young, fresh, slim. 
 He had changed, definitely; a degree of quiet had 
 come to him. And there could be no mistaking the 
 unearthly light in his eyes. The love that is color and 
 sunshine and exquisite song had touched and trans- 
 formed him. 
 
 Doane could not speak. He waited. Young Kane 
 finally brought himself with obvious, earnest effort in 
 a sense to earth. But his voice was unsteady in a 
 boyish way. 
 
 "Mr. Doane," he asked, "do you believe in 
 miracles?" 
 
 Thoughtfully, deliberately, Doane bowed his great 
 head. "I am forced to," he replied. 
 
 "You've seen men change from dirty, selfish 
 brutes, I mean, to something decent, worth while?" 
 
 "Many times."
 
 YOUTH 223 
 
 "Really?. . . .But does it have to be religion?" 
 
 "I don't know." 
 
 "Can it be love? The influence of a woman, I 
 mean a girl?" 
 
 "Might that not be more or less the same thing?" 
 
 "Do you really think that?" 
 
 Again the great head bowed. And there was a 
 long silence. Rocky broke it. 
 
 "I wish you would tell me exactly how you feel 
 about marriage between the races." 
 
 "Why really " 
 
 "You must have observed a lot, all these years 
 out here. And the pater tells me that you're an able 
 man, except that you've sort of lost your perspective. 
 He did tell me that he'd like to have you with him, if 
 you could only bring yourself around to our ways." 
 Rocky, even now, could see this only as a profound 
 compliment. He rushed on : "Oh, don't misunder- 
 stand me ! She doesn't love me yet. How could she ? 
 I've got to earn the right even to speak of it again. 
 But if I should earn the right in time tell me, could 
 an American make her happy?" 
 
 "I'm afraid I can't answer that general question." 
 
 But Rocky felt that he was kind. "The pater says 
 I'd be wrecking my life. He says she'd always be 
 pulled two ways you know! God! He seemed to 
 think I had only to ask her, and she'd come. He 
 doesn't understand." 
 
 "No," said Doane "I'm afraid he couldn't under- 
 stand."
 
 224 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "You feel that too? It's very perplexing. I know 
 I've spoken carelessly about the Chinese and Manchus. 
 I looked down on them. I did ! But oh, if I could only 
 make it clear to you how I feel now ! If I could only 
 express it! We've been talking a long time, she and 
 I. I don't mind telling you I'm taking a pretty bitter 
 lesson, right now. She knows so much. She has such 
 fine well, ideals " 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 "Oh, you've noticed that !.... Well, I feel crude 
 beside her. Of course, I am." 
 
 "Yes you are. Even more so than you can hope 
 to perceive now." 
 
 The youth winced; but took it. "Well, suppose 
 just suppose that I might, one of these days, prove 
 that I'm decent enough to ask her to be my wife. . . . 
 Oh, don't think for a minute that I don't understand 
 all it means. I do. I tell you I'm starting again. I'm 
 going to fight it out." 
 
 "That is fine," said Griggsby Doane, and looked 
 squarely, gravely, at the very young face. It was a 
 white face, but good in outline; the forehead, particu- 
 larly, was good. And the blue eyes now met his. "I 
 believe you will fight it out. And I believe you have 
 it in you to win." 
 
 "I'm going to try, Mr. Doane. But just suppose 
 I do win. And suppose I win her. It's when I think 
 of that, that I. . . .I'll put it this way to my friends, 
 to everybody in New York, she'd be an oddity. A
 
 YOUTH 225 
 
 novelty, not much more. You know what most of 
 them would think, in their hearts. Either they'd make 
 an exception in her case partly on my account, at 
 that or else they'd look down on her. You know 
 how they are about people that aren't well, the same 
 color that we are. Probably I couldn't live out here. 
 The business is mainly in New York, of course. And 
 she's such an enthusiastic American herself she'd 
 want to be there. Some, anyway. And she's got to 
 be happy. She's like a flower to me, now; like an 
 
 orchid. Oh, a thousand times more, but What 
 
 could I do ? How could I plan ? Oh, I'd fight for her 
 quick enough. But you know our cold rich Americans. 
 They wouldn't let me fight. They'd just " 
 
 "My boy," said Doane, quietly but with an author- 
 ity that Rocky felt, "you can't plan that. You can 
 . do only one thing." 
 
 "What thing?" 
 
 "Stay here in China a year before you offer your- 
 self to that lovely girl. Study the Chinese their 
 language, their philosophy, their art. A year will not 
 advance you far, but it should be enough to show you 
 where you yourself stand." 
 
 "A year. . . . !" 
 
 "Listen to what I am going to try to tell you. 
 Listen as thoughtfully as you can. First I must tell 
 you this the Chinese civilization has been in certain 
 aspects still remains the finest the world has known. 
 With one exception, doubtless." 
 
 "What exception?"
 
 226 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "The Grecian. You see, I have startled you." 
 
 "Well, I'm still sort of bewildered." 
 
 "Naturally. But try to think with me. The 
 Chinese worked out their social philosophy long ago. 
 They have lived through a great deal that we have 
 only begun, from tribal struggles through conquest 
 and imperialism and civil war to a sort of republicanism 
 and a fine feeling for peace and justice. And then, 
 when they had given up primitive desire for fighting 
 they were conquered by more primitive Northern 
 tribes first the Mongols, and later the Manchus. 
 The Manchus have been absorbed, have become more 
 or less Chinese. 
 
 "And now a few more blunt facts that will further 
 startle you. The Chinese are the most democratic peo- 
 ple in the world. No ruler can long resist the quiet 
 force of the scores of thousands of villages and neigh- 
 borhoods of the empire. 
 
 "They are the most reasonable people in the world. 
 You can no more judge them from the so-called Tongs 
 in New York and San Francisco, made up of a few 
 Cantonese expatriates, than you can judge the culture 
 of England by the beachcombers of the South Seas. 
 
 "They developed, centuries before Europe, one of 
 the finest schools of painting the world has so far 
 known. There is no school of reflective, philosophical 
 poetry so ripe and so fine as the Chinese. They have 
 had fifty Wordsworths, if no Shakespeare. 
 
 "You will find Americans confusing them with the 
 Japanese, whom they resemble only remotely. All
 
 YOUTH 227 
 
 that is finest in Japan in art and literature came 
 originally from China." 
 
 "You take my breath away," said Rocky slowly. 
 But he was humble about it ; and that was good. 
 
 "But listen, please. What I am trying to make 
 clear to you is that in old Central China in Hang 
 Chow, and along this fertile Yangtze Valley, and 
 northwest through the Great Plain to Kai Feng-fu and 
 Sian-fu in Shensi where the older people flourished 
 germinated the thought and the art, the humanity 
 and the faith, that have been a source of culture to half 
 the world during thousands of years. 
 
 "But you can not hope to understand this culture 
 through Western eyes. For you will be looking out 
 of a Western background. You must actually sur- 
 render your background. It is no good looking at a 
 Chinese landscape or a portrait with eyes that have 
 known only European painting. Can you see why? 
 Because all through European painting runs the idea 
 of copying nature somehow, however subtly, how- 
 ever influenced by the nuances of color and light, copy- 
 ing. But the Chinese master never copied a landscape. 
 He studied it, felt it, surrendered his soul to it, and 
 then painted the fine emotion that resulted. And, 
 remember this, he painted with a conscious technical 
 skill as fine as that of Velasquez or Whistler or 
 Monet" 
 
 The youth whistled softly. "Wait, Mr. Doane, 
 please .... the fact is, you're clean over my head. I 
 I don't know a thing about our painting, let alone
 
 228 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 theirs. You see I haven't put in much time at " He 
 stopped. His smooth young brows were knit in the 
 effort to think along new, puzzling channels. "But 
 she would understand," he added, honestly, softly. 
 
 "Exactly! She would understand. That is what 
 I am trying to make clear to you." 
 
 "But you're sort of well, overwhelming me." 
 "My boy," said Doane very kindly, "you could go 
 back home, enter business, marry some attractive girl 
 of your own blood who thinks no more deeply than 
 yourself, whose culture is as thinly veneered as your 
 own forgive me. I am speaking blunt facts." 
 "Go on. I'm trying to understand." 
 " And find happiness, in the sense that we so 
 carelessly use the word. But here you are, in China, 
 proposing to offer your life to a Manchu princess. 
 You do seem to see clearly that there would be diffi- 
 culties. It is true that our people crudely feel them- 
 selves superior to this fine old race. As a matter of 
 fact, one of the worthiest tasks left in the world is 
 to explain East to West draw some part of this rich 
 old culture in with our own more limited background. 
 But as it stands now, the current will be against you. 
 So I say this study China. Open your mind and 
 heart to the beauty that is here for the taking. Try 
 to look through the decadent surface of this tired old 
 race and see the genius that still slumbers within. If, 
 then, you find yourself in the new belief that their 
 culture is in certain respects finer than ours as I 
 myself have been forced to believe if you can go to
 
 YOUTH 229 
 
 Hui Fei humbly then ask her to be your wife. For 
 then there will be a chance that you can make her 
 happy. Not otherwise." 
 
 Doane stopped abruptly. His deep voice was rich 
 with emotion. The boy was stirred; and a moment 
 later, when he felt a huge hand on his shoulder he 
 found it necessary to fight back the tears. The man 
 seemed like a father; the sort of father he had never 
 known. 
 
 "Don't ask her so long as a question remains in 
 your mind. Defiance won't do it must be faith, and 
 knowledge. I can't let you take the life of that girl 
 into your keeping on any other terms." 
 
 The odd emphasis of this speech passed quite by 
 the deeply preoccupied young mind. 
 
 "You're right," he replied brokenly. "I've got to 
 wait. Everything that you say is true I really 
 haven't a thing in the world to offer. I'm an ignorant 
 barbarian beside her." 
 
 "You have the great gift of youth," said Doane 
 gently. 
 
 But a moment later Rocky broke out with : "But, 
 Mr. Doane how can I wait? She after her father 
 they're going to take her away make her marry 
 somebody at Peking somebody she doesn't even 
 know " 
 
 "I don't think they will succeed in that plan," said 
 Doane very soberly. 
 
 "But why not? What can she do? A girl 
 alone "
 
 230 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "There are tens of thousands of girls in China that 
 have solved that problem." 
 
 "But I don't see" 
 
 "You must still try to keep your mind open. You 
 are treading on ground unknown to our race." A 
 breathless quality crept into Doane's voice; his eyes 
 were fixed on the distant river bank. "I wonder if I 
 can help you to understand. Death the thought of 
 death is to them a very different thing " 
 
 "Oh !" It was more a sharp indrawing of breath 
 than an exclamation. "You don't mean that she would 
 do that?" 
 
 Doane bowed his head. 
 
 "But she couldn't do a cowardly thing-" 
 
 Doane brought himself, with difficulty, to utter 
 the blunt word. "Suicide, in China, is not always 
 cowardice. Often it is the finest heroism the holding 
 to a fine standard." 
 
 "Oh, no ! It wouldn't ever" 
 
 "Please ! You arc- a Westerner. Your feelings are 
 those of the younger yes, the cruder half of the 
 world. I must still ask you to try to believe that there 
 can be other sorts of feelings." Again the great hand 
 rested solidly on the young shoulder ; and now, at last, 
 the boy became slightly aware of the suffering in the 
 heart of this older man. Though even now he could 
 not grasp every implication. That human love might 
 be a cause he did not perceive. But he sensed, warmly, 
 the ripe experience and the compassionate spirit of 
 the man.
 
 YOUTH 231 
 
 "You have stepped impulsively into an Old-World 
 drama/' Doane went quietly on "into a tragedy, 
 indeed. No one can say what the next developments 
 will be. You can win, if at all, only by becoming your- 
 self, a fatalist. You must move with events. Cer- 
 tainly you can not force them." 
 
 "But I can take her away," cried the boy, hotly; 
 finishing, lamely, with "somehow." 
 
 "Against her will ?" 
 
 "Well surely " 
 
 "She will not leave her father." 
 
 "But oh, Mr. Doane " 
 
 He fell silent. For a long time they sat without 
 a word, side by side. Here and there about the junk 
 sleepers awoke and moved about. A few of the women, 
 forward, set up their wailing but more quietly now. 
 The craft headed in gradually toward the right bank, 
 passing a yellow junk that was moored inshore and 
 moving on some distance up-stream. At a short dis- 
 tance inland a brown-gray village nestled under a 
 hillside. 
 
 "That junk passed us before we left the island," 
 Rocky observed, gloomily making talk. 
 
 Doane's ga2e followed his down-stream; then at a 
 sound like distant thunder, he turned and listened. 
 
 "What's that?" asked the boy. 
 
 Doane looked up into the cloudless, blazing sky. 
 
 "That would be the guns at Hankow," he replied.
 
 232 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 6 
 
 The lictors were landed first to seek carts in the 
 village. Then all were taken ashore in the small boat. 
 His excellency smilingly, with unfailing poise, talked 
 with Doane of the beauties of the river; even quoted 
 his favorite Li Po, as his quiet eyes surveyed the hills 
 that bordered the broad river : 
 
 " 'The birds have all flown to their trees, 
 The last, last lovely cloud has drifted off, 
 
 But we never tire in our companionship 
 The mountains and I.' ' 
 
 The line of unpainted, springless carts, roofed with 
 arched matting, yellow with the fine dust of the high- 
 way, moved, squeaking, off among the hills. Follow- 
 ing close went the women and the servants. The junk 
 swung deliberately out and off down the river. 
 
 Doane, declining a cart, walked beside that of his 
 excellency; Rocky Kane, deadly pale, his mouth set 
 firmly, beside Miss Hui Fei. And so, through the 
 peaceful country-side they came to the long brick wall 
 and the heavily timbered gate house by the road, and, 
 pausing there, heard very faintly the soft tinkling of 
 the little bronze bells within. It was late afternoon. 
 The shadows were long; and the evening birds were 
 twittering among the leafy branches just within the 
 wall.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL OF CHAO MENG-FU 
 
 'T'O Rocky Kane the few hours that followed were 
 to exist in memory as a confused sequence of 
 swift -pressing scenes, all highly colored, vivid ; certain 
 of them touched with horror, others passing in a flash 
 of exotic beauty; while the fire of hot, unreasoning 
 young love burned all but unbearably within his 
 breast. 
 
 He would remember the crowded line of carts in 
 the sunken narrow road, the unruly mules that plunged 
 and entangled their harness; the huddled women; the 
 yellow dust that clung thickly to the bright silks of the 
 mandarins ; the confusion about the gate, and the hand- 
 ful of soldiers that came hurrying forward to help in 
 a strange business up there; the trains of other carts 
 that struggled to pass in the narrow way, while tat- 
 tered muleteers shouted a babel of invective. 
 
 He would remember the sad face of Miss Hui Fei, 
 drawn back within the shadow of the cart and the 
 faint smiles that came and so quickly went; and the 
 efforts he made, at first, to cheer her with boyishly 
 bright talk of this and that. 
 
 233
 
 234 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 He would remember how he made his way forward 
 through the press, without recalling what had just 
 been said, or what, precisely, could have been the 
 impulse driving him on; past his excellency sitting 
 yet in his cart, calmly waiting, while the drabbled man- 
 darins stood respectfully by; and how he found the 
 soldiers carrying oddly limp bodies into one of the 
 gate houses, hiding them there. 
 
 He would remember the picture on which he 
 stumbled as he rounded the inner screen of brick ; Mr. 
 Doane and an officer and two or three soldiers stand- 
 ing thoughtfully about a fat body in spattered silks 
 that was hideously without a head; standing there in 
 the half dusk for the shadows were lengthening softly 
 into evening here under the trees Mr. Doane then 
 bending over, the officer kneeling, to examine the 
 embroidery on the breast; and then two soldiers 
 bringing up a pole on the end of which grinned the 
 missing head ; and then the sound of his own voice 
 curiously breathless and without body, asking, "What 
 is it, Mr. Doane ? What terrible thing has happened ?" 
 And then, even while he was speaking, four soldiers 
 carrying another body by, this of a stout man in shirt 
 and flannel trousers, that he felf he had seen somewhere 
 before. 
 
 He would remember when they had carried out 
 the last awful reminder of the bloodshed that had been, 
 and while Mr. Doane pressed a hand to his eyes as if 
 in prayer how he stood silent there on the gravel 
 area, looking up into the trees and about at the dim
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL 235 
 
 quaint pen-lows on either hand and at the pavilions 
 behind them, each on its arch of stone over placid dark 
 water; and how the lightly moving- air of evening 
 whispered through the trees, stirring, with the foliage, 
 faintly musical little bells ; and how, into this moment 
 of calm, appeared, light of step, swinging her shop- 
 ping bag as she descended the marble steps of 
 the pavilion at the right and came forward under the 
 pai-lows, the pale girl, Dixie Carmichael, who glanced 
 respectfully toward Mr. Doane, and at Rocky himself 
 raised her black eyebrows while her thin lips softly 
 framed the one word, "You?" And then, after a few 
 words the girl said that Tex Connor and the Manila 
 Kid made her come; it had been a terrible business; 
 she thought both must have been killed ; she had con- 
 trived to hide how Mr. Doane asked him to take her 
 back to the women; and how they went, he and she, 
 his heart beating hotly, out through the darkening 
 gate where paper lanterns now moved about. He 
 felt that for the first sharp blow at his new life. There 
 would be other blows ; doubtless through this girl ; for 
 the old life would not give him up without a fight. 
 
 He was to forget what they said, he and this 
 unaccountable, cool girl, as he left her out there and 
 hurried back; but would remember the picture he 
 found on his return Mr. Doane striding off deliber- 
 ately into the darkness beyond the little white bridges, 
 while the officer followed with a lantern, and the few 
 soldiers, also with lanterns, straggled after. He would 
 remember crowding himself past all of them, snatching
 
 236 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 one of the lanterns as he ran, and falling into step at 
 the side of the huge determined man. 
 
 There were broad courtyards, then, and buildings 
 with heavily curving roofs and columns richly colored 
 and carved, with dim lights behind windows of paper 
 squares. There were drunken soldiers, who ran 
 away, and screaming women, and other women who 
 would never scream or smile again. There was litter 
 and splintered furniture and a broken-in door here 
 and there. There was a familiar big soldier who 
 plunged at Mr. Doane with a glinting blade in his 
 hand; and then a sharp struggle that was to last, in 
 retrospect, but an instant of time, for the clearer mem- 
 ory was of himself binding with his handkerchief a 
 small cut in Mr. Doane's forearm while the soldiers 
 carried out a wounded struggling giant, and then 
 shouts and shots from the courtyard when the giant 
 escaped. And he would remember picking up an unset 
 ruby from the tiling and handing it to Mr. Doane. 
 There was the picture, then, of a melancholy proces- 
 sion winding slowly through the grove with bobbing 
 gay lanterns. 
 
 And finally, to the boy incredibly, the place came 
 into a degree of order and calm. Women and men 
 disappeared into this building and that. Rocky sat 
 alone on the steps of a structure that might have been 
 a temple, hands supporting his throbbing head. The 
 moonlight streamed down into the courtyard ; he could 
 see the grotesque ornaments on the eaves of the build- 
 ings, and the large blue-and-white bowls and vases in
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL 237 
 
 which grew flowering 1 plants and dwarfed trees from 
 Japan, and, in the farther gate, a sentry lounging. 
 Now and again faint sounds came from within the 
 largest of the buildings, voices and footsteps; and he 
 could see lights again dimly through the paper. He 
 wondered what they might be doing. . . . His 
 thoughts were a fever. The spirit of Hui Fei hovered 
 like an exquisite dream there, but crowding in with 
 malignant persistence came, kept coming, pictures of 
 Dixie Carmichael. He wondered where they had put 
 her. Perhaps she was already asleep. It would be 
 like her to sleep. She was so cold, so oddly unhealthy. 
 Doubtless,, surely, he would have to speak with her. 
 
 He must have dozed. Soldiers were dragging 
 themselves sleepily about the courtyard, rifles in hand. 
 Two officers and a mandarin in a gown were examin- 
 ing a paper by the light of a lantern. Then Mr. Doane 
 came out and read the paper. They talked in Chinese, 
 Mr. Doane's as fluent as theirs. Rocky thought 
 drowsily about this; considered vaguely the years of 
 study and experience that must lie back of that fluency. 
 
 Mr. Doane, indeed, seemed to be assuming a sort 
 of command. With great courtesy, but with impressive 
 finality, he appeared to be outlining a course to which 
 the mandarin assented. The officers bowed and went 
 out through the gate. And when the mandarin and 
 Doane then turned and entered the largest building it 
 was the white man who held the paper in his hand. 
 
 Rocky fell again into a doze; slept until he found 
 Mr. Doane shaking him.
 
 238 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "Come with me now. You can help." Thus the 
 huge grave man with the deep shadows in his face. 
 
 And Rocky went with him, guided by a servant 
 with a lantern, through corridors and courtyards, 
 glimpsing dimly massive pillars and panels in black 
 wood and softly red silk and railings of marble carved 
 into exquisite tracery. 
 
 2 
 
 With the paper that the boy had drowsily observed 
 Doane sought his excellency. Dominated by the white 
 man the attendant mandarin tapped at an inner door, 
 then hesitatingly opened; and Doane alone stepped 
 within. 
 
 The room was long, plain, obscurely seen by the 
 light of a single incandescent lamp over the formal 
 kang or platform across the farther end. Doane had 
 not thought of electric light in here and found it 
 momentarily surprising. The walls were paneled in 
 silk; the ceiling was heavy with beams. Against 
 either side wall, mathematically at the center, stood a 
 square small table and a square stool, heavily carved. 
 Seated on the kang, with papers spread about and 
 brushes and ink pot directly under the light, in short 
 quilted coat and simple black cap, was Kang; a serenely 
 patient figure, quietly working. He had merely looked 
 up; a frail old man, quite beyond the reach of annoy- 
 ance, whose eyes gazed unafraid over the rim of mere 
 personal life into the eternal, tireless energy that 
 would so soon absorb all that was himself. Then, rec-
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL 239 
 
 ognizing the stalwart figure that moved forward into 
 the light, he rose and clasped his hands and smiled. 
 
 "Only an unexpected crisis would lead me to 
 intrude thus," began Doane in Chinese, bowing in 
 courtly fashion and clasping his own hands before his 
 breast. 
 
 "No visit from Griggsby Doane could be regarded 
 as an intrusion in my home," replied his excellency. 
 
 "I will speak quickly, in the Western fashion," 
 Doane went on. "His Excellency, the General Duke 
 Ma Ch'un, commanding before Hankow, writes that 
 he regrets deeply the violent death of the eunuch, 
 Chang Yuan-fu on your excellency's premises while 
 dutifully engaged on the business of her imperial 
 majesty, and cordially requests that your excellency 
 come at once to headquarters as his personal guest to 
 assist him in making an inquiry into the tragedy. He 
 supplements this invitation with a copy of a telegram 
 from His Excellency, Yuan Shih-k'ai, commanding 
 him to guard at once your person and property." 
 
 The simple elderly man who had been a minister, 
 a grand councilor and a viceroy, seemed to recoil 
 slightly as his eyes drooped to the papers about him; 
 then he reached, with a withered hand that trembled, 
 for this new paper and very slowly read it through. 
 
 "His Excellency, Duke Ma Ch'un," Doane added 
 gently, "has sent a company of soldiers to escort you 
 fittingly to his headquarters. They are waiting now 
 at the outermost gate. I took it upon myself in this 
 hour of sorrow and confusion to advise them, through
 
 240 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 the mouths of your loyal officers, that your excellency 
 is not to be disturbed before dawn." 
 
 Slowly, with an expressionless face, the viceroy 
 folded the paper and laid it on the kang. He sank, 
 then, beside it; with visible effort indicating that his 
 visitor sit as well. But Doane remained standing 
 enormously tall, broad, strong; a man to command 
 without question of rank or authority; a man, it 
 appeared, hardly conscious of the calm power of per- 
 sonality that was so plainly his. 
 
 "Your Excellency is aware" thus Doane said 
 "that to admit the authority of Duke Ma Ch'un at this 
 sorrowful time is to submit both yourself and your 
 lovely daughter to a fate that is wholly undeserved, 
 one that I if I may term myself the friend of both 
 can not bring myself to consider without indulging the 
 wish to offer strong resistance. It has been said, 'The 
 truly great man will always frame his actions with 
 careful regard to the exigencies of the moment and 
 trim his sail to the favoring breeze.' Your Excellency 
 must forgive me if I suggest that, whatever value you 
 may place upon your own life, we can not thus abandon 
 your daughter, Hui Fei." 
 
 The viceroy's voice, when he spoke, had lost much 
 of its timbre. It was, indeed, the voice of a weary 
 old man. Yet the words came forth with the old kindly 
 dignity. 
 
 "I asked you, Griggsby Doane, to make with me 
 this painful journey to my home. We did not know 
 then that we were moving from one scene of tragedy
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL' 241 
 
 to another more terrible. But motive must not wait 
 on circumstance. It need not be a hardship for my 
 other children to live on in Asia as Asiatics. As 
 such they were born. They know no other life. They 
 will experience as much happiness as most. But with 
 Hui Fei it is different. She must not be held away 
 from contact with the white civilization. I did not give 
 her this modern education for such an end as that. Hui 
 Fei is an experiment that is not yet completed. She 
 must have her chance. That is why I brought you 
 here, Griggsby Doane. My daughter must be got to 
 Shanghai. There she has friends. I have ventured 
 to count on your experience and good will to convey 
 her safely there. Will you take her now ? To-night ? 
 I had meant to send with her the jewels and the paint- 
 ings of Ming, Sung and Tang. Both collections are 
 priceless. But the gems are gone to-night. The 
 paintings, however, remain. Will you take those and 
 my daughter, and two servants there are hardly more 
 that I can trust and slip out by the upper gate, and 
 in some way escort her safely to Shanghai ?" 
 
 "She would not go," said Doane. "Not while you, 
 Your Excellency, live, or while your body lies above 
 ground." 
 
 The viceroy, hesitating, glanced up at the vigorous 
 man who spoke so firmly, then down at the scattered 
 papers on the kang. In the very calm of that shadowed 
 face he felt the bewildering strength of the white race ; 
 and he knew in his heart that the man was not to be 
 gainsaid. His mind wavered. For perhaps the first
 
 242 IN RED AND GOLD. 
 
 time in his shrewd, patiently subtle life, he felt the 
 heavy burden of his years. 
 
 "I will send for her," he said now, slowly. "I 
 will give her into your keeping. At my command she 
 will go." 
 
 "No, Your Excellency, I have already sent word to 
 her to prepare herself for the journey. Again you 
 must forgive me. Time presses. It remains only to 
 collect the paintings. You must have those, at the 
 least We start now in a very few moments. I have 
 found here, a prisoner in your palace, the master of a 
 junk that lies at the river bank, and have taken it upon 
 myself to detain him further. He will convey us to 
 Shanghai. It is now but a few hours before dawn. 
 Hostile soldiers stand impatient at the outermost gate, 
 eager to heap shame upon you and all that is yours. 
 You must change your clothing the dress of a ser- 
 vant would be best." 
 
 He waited, standing very still. 
 
 "You will forgive indecision in a man of my years," 
 begun the viceroy. After a moment he began again: 
 "The world has turned upside down, Griggsby 
 Doane," 
 
 "You will come?" 
 
 The viceroy sighed. Trembling fingers reached 
 out to gather the papers, 
 
 "I will come," he said.
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL 243 
 
 Adrift in unreality, fighting off from moment to 
 moment the drowsy sense that these strange events 
 were but a blur of dreams in which nothing could be 
 true, nothing could matter, Rocky found himself at 
 work in a dim room, taking down in great handfuls 
 from shelves scrolls of silk wound on rods of ivory and 
 putting them in lacquered boxes. Mr. Doane was there, 
 and the servant, and a second servant of lower class, in 
 ragged trousers and with his queue tied about his 
 head. Still another Chinese appeared, shortly, in blue 
 gown and sleeveless short jacket; an older man who 
 looked, in the flickering faint light of the single lan- 
 tern, curiously like the viceroy himself. The first 
 servant disappeared and returned with the short poles 
 of bamboo used everywhere in China in carrying bur- 
 dens over the shoulder, and with cords and squares of 
 heavy cotton cloth. 
 
 Every bit of woodwork that his hands touched 
 in moving about, Rocky found to be intricately carved 
 and gilded and inlaid with smooth lacquer. And 
 dimly, crowded about the walls, he half saw, half 
 sensed, innumerable vases, small and large, with 
 rounding surfaces of cream-colored crackle and blood- 
 red and blue-and-white and green which threw back 
 the moving light like a softly changing kaleidoscope. 
 And there were screens that gave out, from their pro- 
 found shadows, the glint of gold. 
 
 They packed the boxes together, wrapped the large
 
 244 IN RED AND GOLD! 
 
 and heavy cubes in the squares of cloth and lashed 
 them to hang from the bamboo poles. Four of them, 
 then, Mr. Doane, Rocky himself and the servants, each 
 balanced a pole over his shoulders and lifted the bulky 
 cubes. The old man, who surely, now, was the vice- 
 roy, carried a European hand-bag. There were other 
 parcels .... They made their way along a nearly dark 
 corridor and out into the moonlight. Here, in a 
 porch, stood four silent figures Dixie Carmichael he 
 distinguished first ; then Hui Fei, wearing a short coat 
 and women's trousers and a loose cloak. Her hair was 
 parted and lay smoothly on her pretty head, glistening 
 in the moonlight .... And the little princess was there, 
 clinging to the hand of her sister and rubbing her eyes. 
 They moved silently on, all together, following a path 
 that wound among shrubbery, over an arching bridge 
 to a gate. 
 
 Rocky could dimly see the timbers studded with 
 spikes and the long hinges of bronze. The servant, 
 with a great key, unlocked the gate, which closed 
 softly behind them. 
 
 The pole weighed heavily on Rocky's unaccustomed 
 shoulder. There was a trick of timing the step to the 
 swing of the bales, that, stumbling a little, he caught. 
 He was to remember this the little file of men and 
 women gathered from the two ends of the earth and 
 walking without a spoken sound down through a twist- 
 ing, sunken Chinese road to the Yangtze. And sensing 
 the gathering drama of his own life, brooding over it 
 with slowly increasing nervous intensity, he found
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL 245 
 
 himself coming awake. If this kept on he would 
 soon be excitedly beyond sleep. But it didn't matter. 
 They were saving Hui Fei. Not a word of explana- 
 tion had been offered; but it was coming clear. As 
 for the rest of it, he asked himself how it could matter. 
 The presence of Miss Carmichael, a dangerous girl, 
 an adventuress he was thinking quite youthfully 
 about her who might easily be capable of anything, 
 who could in a moment destroy the hope that was the 
 only foundation, thus far, of his new life, and perhaps 
 would choose to destroy it even this, he tried to tell 
 himself, couldn't possibly matter. Over and over, 
 stumbling and shuffling along, he told himself that; 
 almost convinced himself that he believed it. 
 
 He was to remember most vividly of all the first 
 glimpse, through a notch in the hills, of the river. The 
 viceroy paused at that point, and turning back from 
 the shining picture before him, where the moonlight 
 silvered the unruffled surface of the water, toward the 
 home of his ancestors over the hill, spoke in a low but 
 again musical voice a few lines in which even the 
 American youth could detect the elusive vowel rhymes 
 of a Chinese poem. And he saw that Mr. Doane stood 
 by \vith the slightly bowed head of one who attends a 
 religious ceremony. It was a moving scene. But 
 could he have understood the words the boy would 
 have been puzzled. For the poem the Surrendering 
 of Po Chu-I, breathed resignation, humility, the nega- 
 tive philosophy so dear to Chinese tradition, but noth- 
 ing of religion in the sense that he, a Westerner,
 
 246 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 understood the word, nothing of mysticism or romantic 
 illusion or childlike faith; rather a gentle recognition 
 of the fact that life must go as it had come, unexplained, 
 without tangible evidence of a personal hereafter; 
 that, too, the individual is as nothing in the vast 
 scheme of nature. 
 
 They were ferried out, shortly after this, to the 
 great junk they had twice seen within the twenty-four 
 hours, her smooth sides curving yellow in the moon- 
 light, her decks now scraped and scrubbed clean, 
 flowers blooming in porcelain pots about a charming 
 gallery that extended high over the river astern. 
 The crew, roused from slumber, came swarming out 
 from under the low-spread mattings. The laopan 
 stepped nimbly to his post amidships on the poop. 
 The heavy tracking ropes were hauled aboard, and the 
 craft swung slowly off down the current. 
 
 Doane, with a lantern, escorted his excellency and 
 Hui Fei, and the whimpering little princess, to the 
 rooms below ; then returned and with the same imper- 
 sonal courtesy conducted Miss Carmichael down the 
 steps. But at the door he indicated she stopped short ; 
 wavered a moment, lightly, on the balls of her feet. 
 Then she accepted the lantern from him, bit her lip, 
 and let fall the curtain without replying to his sugges- 
 tion that she had better sleep if she could. 
 
 Alone there, she held up the lantern. The floor 
 had been lately scrubbed; but, even so, she made out 
 a faint broad stain in the wood. And a bed of clean 
 matting was spread where she had left a grisly heap.
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL 247 
 
 For a time Dixie stood by the square small win- 
 dow, looking out over the shining river toward the 
 dim northern bank with its hills that seemed to drift 
 at a snail's pace off astern. Her quick mind had never 
 been farther from sleep. Her thin hands felt through 
 her blouse the twisted ropes of pearls that were wound 
 about her waist. Her lips were pressed tightly 
 together. These pearls represented a fortune beyond 
 even Dixie's calculating dreams. To keep them suc- 
 cessfully hidden during the days, perhaps weeks to 
 come of floating down the river in close companion- 
 ship with these two strong observant men, and a half 
 crazy American boy, and clever Oriental women, 
 would test her resourcefulness and her nerve. Though 
 she felt, even now, no doubt of the latter. . . . 
 
 The thing was tremendous. Now that the con- 
 fusion of the day and night were over with, she 
 found a thrill in considering the problem, while her 
 sensitive fingers pressed and pressed again the hard 
 little globes. There were so many of them ; such beau- 
 ties, she knew, in form and size and color. . . .Never 
 again would such an opportunity come to her. It was, 
 precisely, if on the grandest scale imaginable, her sort 
 of achievement. Tex was gone. The Kid was gone. 
 No one could claim a share or a voice; it was all hers 
 wealth, power, even, perhaps, at the last, something 
 near respectability. For money, enough of it, she 
 knew, will accomplish even that. While on the other.
 
 248 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 hand, to fail now, might, wouH, spell a life of drab 
 adventure along the coast, without even a goal, with- 
 out a decent hope; with, always, the pitiless years 
 gaining on her. 
 
 She searched, tiptoeing, about the room, lantern in 
 hand, for a place to hide her treasure; then recon- 
 sidered. In some way she must keep the pearls about 
 her person; though not, as now, looped around her 
 waist. An accidental touch there might start the fate- 
 ful questioning. 
 
 She put down the lantern; stood for a long time 
 by the curtained door, listening. From up and down 
 the passage came only the heavy breathing of exhausted 
 folk. She slipped out cautiously ; made her way to the 
 sloping deck above how vividly familiar it was ! tip- 
 toed lightly aft, past the uncurious helmsman, around 
 the huge coils of rope and the piled-up fenders of inter- 
 woven matting, out to the pleasant gallery where the 
 flowers were. 
 
 And then, as she stepped down and paused to 
 breathe slowly, deeply, again the heavy-sweet perfume 
 of the tuberoses, a boyish figure sprang up, with a 
 nervous little gasp of surprise, from the steamer chair 
 of Hong Kong grass. 
 
 She said, in her quiet way, "Oh, hello!" And then, 
 with a quick sidelong glance at him, accepted the chair 
 he offered. He seemed uncertain as to whether he 
 would go or stay. Lowering her lids, she studied him. 
 He was standing the excitement well, even improving. 
 His carriage was better; he stood up well on his
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLE 249 
 
 strong young legs. And he was quieter, better in 
 hand, though of course the never-governed, long over- 
 stimulated emotions would not be lying very deep 
 beneath this new, more manly surface. He was very 
 good-looking, really a typical American boy. 
 
 He stood now, fingering the petals of a dahlia and 
 gazing out astern into the luminous night. She pon- 
 dered the question of exerting herself again to win 
 him. The money was there, plenty of it. He would 
 be as helpless as ever in her experienced hands. And 
 the mere use of her skill in trapping and stripping 
 him would be enjoyable. . . . He was lingering. 
 
 She decided in the negative. He would surely 
 become tempestuous. And as surely, if she permitted 
 that, he would discover the pearls. And again the 
 thrill of mastery swept through her finely strung 
 nerves she had those. They were enough. But they 
 must be better hidden. There was her problem still, 
 a problem that might at any instant become delicately 
 acute. She considered it, lying comfortably back in 
 the chair, luxuriating in the richly blended scent of 
 the crowded blossoms, while her nearly closed eyes 
 studied the restless boy. 
 
 Abruptly he turned. What now? Was he about 
 to become tempestuous all on his own? It would be 
 anything but out of character. Her slight muscles 
 tightened, but her face betrayed no emotion, would 
 have betrayed none in a more searching light than thisi 
 soft flood from the moon. He was sentimental over 
 the Manchu princess, now, of course. She hadn'ti
 
 250 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 missed that. But in the case of an ungoverned boy, 
 she well knew, the emotion itself could be vastly more 
 important than its immediate object But now she was 
 to meet with a small surprise. 
 
 "Look here!" he began, crude, naive, as always, 
 "there's something perhaps I ought to tell you. I 
 tried to carry on with you. You've got a right to think 
 anything about me " 
 
 At least he was keeping his voice down. She lay 
 still; let him talk. 
 
 " but I've changed. Smile at that, if you want 
 to!" 
 
 She did smile faintly, but only at his clear, clean 
 ignorance of the insult that underlay his words. 
 
 " I was on the loose. It's different now. I'm 
 going to try to do something with my life. Whatever 
 happens I mean however my luck may seem to 
 turn" 
 
 He could hardly go on with this. The next few 
 words were swallowed down. It was plain enough that 
 he couldn't think clearly. And he couldn't possibly 
 know that he was giving her an opening through 
 which, within a very few moments, she was to see the 
 outline of the policy she must pursue during these diffi- 
 cult days to come on the junk. 
 
 She lifted her head; leaned on an elbow. "Do 
 you know," she said, in a voice that seemed, now, to 
 have a note of friendliness, "I'm sorry for you." 
 
 "Sorry forme!" 
 
 "Don't think I can't see how it is. And you mustn't
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL 251 
 
 misunderstand me. I'm older than you. I'm pretty 
 experienced. My life has been hard. There couldn't 
 be anything serious between you and me. You've 
 wakened up to that." 
 
 The new note in her voice puzzled him, but caught 
 his interest. He stood looking straight down at her. 
 
 "I know you're in love," she went on. 
 
 "But" 
 
 "Don't be silly. It's plain enough. She's very 
 attractive. Nobody could blame you." 
 
 "She's wonderful!" 
 
 "It's nice to see you feeling that way. It it's no 
 good our talking about it, you and me. All I've got 
 to say is please don't think I'd bother you. I may 
 have led a rough life at times a girl alone, who has 
 to live by her wits but oh, well, never mind that! 
 Every man has had his foolish moments. I under- 
 stand you better than you will ever know and well, 
 here's good luck !" And she offered her hand. 
 
 He took it, breathless, eager. He seemed, then, on 
 the point of pouring out his story to this new surprising 
 friend. But a slight sound caught his attention. He 
 looked up, and slowly let fall the hand that was gripped 
 in his; for at the break of the deck, just above them, 
 hesitating, very slim and wan z stood Miss Hui Fei. 
 
 The situation was, of course, in no way so dramatic 
 as it seemed to the boy. He, indeed, drew back, over-
 
 252 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 come ; the habit of guilty thought was not to be thrown 
 off in a moment. Miss Carmichael, sensing that he 
 would begin erecting the incident into a situation the 
 moment he could clumsily speak, took the matter in 
 hand; rising, and quietly addressing herself to the 
 Manchu girl. Breeding, of course, was not hers, 
 could not be ; but her calm manner and her instinct for 
 reticence could seem, as now, not unlike the finer 
 quality. 
 
 "Do have this chair," she said. "I was going 
 down." 
 
 Miss Hui Fei smiled faintly. "I coul'n' sleep," she 
 murmured. 
 
 "There's one little article I suppose none of us 
 thought to bring " thus Miss Carmichael, balancing 
 in her light way on the balls of her feet "needle and 
 thread." She even indulged in a little passing laugh. 
 
 "I think my maid " began Miss Hui Fei. 
 
 "Oh, no! I wouldn't bother you!" 
 
 "Yes! Please I don' min'." 
 
 She turned; and the boy started impulsively 
 toward her. Miss Carmichael moved away, over the 
 deck, but heard him saying, in a broken voice : 
 
 "You'll come back? I've got to tell you some- 
 thing!" 
 
 To which Miss Hui Fei replied, in a voice that was 
 meant to be at once pleasant and impersonal : "Why- 
 yes. I think I'll come back. It's so close down there." 
 
 The two young women went below. Quietly Miss 
 Carmichael waited in the passage.
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL 253 
 
 The needle and thread were shortly forthcoming. 
 The white girl smiled ; seeming really friendly there in 
 the dim ray of light that slanted in through a window. 
 
 "It's good of you," she said. 
 
 "Oh, no it's nothing." 
 
 "We're in for a rather uncomfortable trip of it. 
 I hope you'll let me do anything I can to help you. 
 I'm more used to knocking about, of course." 
 
 "We'll all make the best of it," said the Manchu 
 girl, and turned, with an effort at a smile, toward the 
 stairs. 
 
 Miss Carmichael entered her own room. The lan- 
 tern still burned, but the candle-end was low. She saw 
 now an iron lamp, an open dish full of oil with a 
 floating wick. This she lighted with the candle. 
 Next, moving about almost without a sound, she fas- 
 tened the swaying door-curtain with pins. Then she 
 slipped out of her blouse and skirt; untied the pearl 
 cape ; and seated on the bed of matting, with her back 
 to the door, began patiently sewing the pearls into her 
 undergarments. It was to be a long task. Before 
 dawn the lamp burned out, and fearful of being caught 
 asleep with the amazing treasure about her she stood 
 at the window and let the wind blow into her face until 
 the faintly spreading light of dawn made the work 
 again possible. The drowsiness that nearly overcame 
 her now she fought off with an iron will. Nothing 
 mattered nothing but success. Her thin deft fingers 
 worked in a tireless rhythm. Only once, very briefly, 
 did she yield to the impulse to weigh the exquisite lus-
 
 254 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 trous globes in her hands; to hold them close to the 
 light. Her tireless reason told her that this wouldn't 
 do. It brought an excited throbbing to her weary 
 head .... She settled again to her task ; time enough 
 to gloat later. By way of a healthy mental occupa- 
 tion she counted the pearls as she threaded them 
 up to a thousand on up to two thousand then 
 (the sun was redly up now; and folk were stirring 
 about the deck) three thousand. In all, a few more 
 than thirty-seven hundred pearls she threaded about 
 her person ; and then slipped back into blouse and skirt 
 before permitting herself a few hours of sleep. The 
 diamond-studded clasps she wrapped in a bit of cloth 
 and stuffed into her hand-bag. 
 
 The Chinese maid woke her then, bringing food 
 that had been cooked, she knew, in the brick stove up 
 forward, where the crew slept. She could bring her- 
 self to eat but a few mouthfuls. ... .This didn't matter, 
 either. No hardship was of consequence in such a 
 battle as hers ; she would have submitted coolly to tor- 
 ture rather than surrender her prize. But it suggested 
 fresh tactics. She had a knack at cooking. Quietly, 
 later in the day she knew better than to try effusive 
 friendliness ; to play herself to the last would be best 
 she spoke to Mr. Doane of that small gift. A kitchen 
 was improvised in the laopan's cramped quarters, aft ; 
 and Miss Carmichael, quite intent about her business, 
 coolly cheerful about it, indeed, began to prove her 
 capacity. And she knew, then, that she was winning. 
 They would soon be respecting her, even liking her.
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL 255 
 
 Even so she would keep her distance ; then they would 
 have to keep theirs. That was all she needed. 
 
 To Rocky, the most elusive memory of all this 
 eventful night was the conversation with Miss Hui Fei. 
 For she returned in a moment so he remembered it 
 and sank wearily into the steamer chair. The pic- 
 ture of that scene was to vary bafflingly in his mind. 
 At times he saw himself, torn with an emotion now so 
 great that it seemed the end of life, standing over her, 
 saying, passionately: 
 
 "I know how it looked you're finding us here like 
 that! And you'd have reason. I did flirt with her. 
 I'm ashamed now. I hadn't seen you felt you like 
 this. But that's all over. I was telling her Please ! 
 You've got to know ! that I love you. Or telling her 
 enough. She understood. And she was awfully 
 decent. She took my hand, wished me luck." 
 
 There must have been a brief time then when the 
 poor girl was endeavoring pleasantly to turn aside this 
 torrent of heavily freighted words. Certainly he was 
 talking feverishly on. He could remember pulling 
 down a coil of rope from the steersman's deck and 
 sitting moodily beside her ; and there was a sensation in 
 their minds, his and hers, of being at cross-purposes. 
 There was something about her, back of the weary 
 smile a smile that was long to haunt him, dim in the 
 moonlight, exquisite in its sensitive beauty that
 
 256 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 eluded his pressing desire until it seemed near to driv- 
 ing him mad. Kipling's East is East, and West is 
 West, slipped in among his thoughts ; kept coming and 
 coming until it became a nerve-wracking singsong in 
 his brain. 
 
 There was one period, fortunately very short, when 
 he seemed to be almost forcing a quarrel. Why, he 
 couldn't afterward imagine. That part of it was 
 dreadful in the retrospect. He had reached the point, 
 apparently, when he couldn't longer endure the failure 
 to reach her. There was simply no response. It was 
 almost as if he were frightening her away. Perhaps 
 it was just that. 
 
 But the most vivid memory was of the unaccount- 
 able force that suddenly rose in him, seizing on his 
 tongue, his brain, his very nerves. The power of the 
 Kanes was abruptly his, and it brought its own skill 
 with it. It was, distinctly, a possession. It simply 
 came, at this very top of his emotional pitch. There 
 must have been preliminaries. He must have said 
 things that she must have answered. But these lesser 
 moments dropped out. Even a day later, he could see, 
 could almost feel, himself on one knee beside the 
 steamer chair, saying those amazing things, without a 
 shred of memory as to how he got there. Never had 
 he so spoken, to girl or woman; for in the escapades 
 of the younger Rocky there had always been a reti- 
 cence if seldom a restraint. It was precocity; the blood 
 that was in him. 
 
 "You beautiful, wonderful girl !" he was breathing,
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL 257 
 
 close to her ear. (He was never to forget this.)' "How 
 can you hide your feelings from me? Can't you see 
 it's just driving me mad?.... You're adorable! 
 You're exquisite ! You thrill me so just your voice ; 
 the way you walk your hands your hair ! . . . . 
 Can't you understand, dear, it isn't what they call 
 'love.' ' (This with a divine contempt.) "It's the cry 
 of my whole being. I want to give you my life. I 
 want to know your life study it come to understand 
 the wonderful people that has made you possible ! I'm 
 going to study it history, art, everything ! . . . . I 
 worship you ! I dream so of you all the time day- 
 times! I just half-close my eyes and then, right away, 
 I can see you, walking. And I see you as you were at 
 the dance on the boat." He choked a little; then 
 rushed on. "And in those dreams I always take you 
 in my arms No, let me say it! The angels are sing- 
 ing it, the wonderful truth! I take you in my arms 
 and kiss your hair and your eyes. You always close 
 your eyes oh, so slowly and I press my lips on the 
 lids. And your arms are around my neck. I can feel 
 your hands. But I never kiss your lips not in those 
 dreams. Because that will mean that you have given 
 me your soul, and I always know I must wait for 
 
 that 
 
 "Please ! You must listen ! Can't you see I'm just 
 tearing my heart out and putting it in your hands 
 under your feet? There isn't any other life for me. I 
 can't live without you. I could give up my friends, my 
 home, my country, and be happy just serving you."
 
 258 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 He had captured her hand ; had it tight in his two 
 hands and was kissing it tenderly. The thrill was 
 unbelievable now. It was ecstasy. He could hear 
 himself murmuring over and over, "You're so 
 exquisite ! So thrilling ! I love the way your hair lies 
 over your forehead. I love your eyes, especially when 
 you smile" .... On and on. 
 
 The tired sad girl in the steamer chair could not 
 fail to respond in some measure, in every sensitive 
 nerve, to so ardent a wooing. Even when she rose, and 
 struggled a little to withdraw her hand, she couldn't 
 be angry. He was surprising; in his very boyishness, 
 compelling. 
 
 Then, a little later, he was sitting moodily on the 
 extension front of the chair, face in hands, plunged 
 into a wordless abyss ; she sat on the edge of the steers- 
 man's deck, leaning against the rail, her face close to 
 a lotus plant, with one flower that looked a ghostly 
 blue in the fading moonlight, and just later, shaded 
 through pink to deep red with the first quick-spreading 
 color of the dawn. His emotional outburst had passed, 
 for the moment, like a gust. He seemed to himself, 
 already, to have failed. His thoughts were turned, 
 behind the gray half-covered face, on death. For so 
 swung the pendulum. He couldn't, in these depths, 
 draw significance from the remarkable fact that she 
 had risen only to drop down again and carry forward 
 the talk that he let fall, and that he had, for the time 
 at least, swept away those mental obstacles. Certainly 
 Miss Hui Fei was not elusive now.
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL 259 
 
 The things she was saying, in a deliberate, matter- 
 of-fact way, bewildered him. 
 
 "I don' want you to make love to me like tha'." 
 
 "But how can I help it? You're so wonderful. 
 You thrill me so. I tell you it's my whole life. I can 
 never live on without you not any more. It's got 
 to be with you, or or nothing." 
 
 It was strange. This impulsive affection had 
 grown very, very rapidly within him ; yet, even a day 
 earlier he couldn't have pictured this scene. Not a 
 phrase of these burning sentences he was so fervently 
 uttering had been consciously framed in his mind. A 
 part of the thrill of the situation lay in the very fact 
 that he was so wildly committing himself. Now that 
 it was being said, he felt no desire to take a word 
 back. He meant it all ; and more more. 
 
 But she still, even in the telltale morning light, 
 quaint, charming, adorable was growing so practical 
 about it. 
 
 "You're a ver' romantic boy." 
 
 "I'm not! This is real! Can't you understand 
 that it's love forever?" 
 
 "Please ! . . . . I don' want you to think T don' 
 un'erstan'. It's ver' sweet an' generous of you " 
 
 "I'm not generous ! I want you !" 
 
 "I do apprecia' all it woul' mean. You offer me 
 so much " 
 
 "You dear girl, I offer you everything everything
 
 2<5o IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 I have or am! I don't want to live at all unless it's 
 with you always at my side." 
 
 "But I don't think Please! I woul'n' hurt you 
 for anything. You've helped so helped saving my 
 father's life an' mine. It's won'erful but I don' 
 think life is like that. People mus' have so much in 
 common to marry in the Western way. They mus' 
 love each other, yes. But in their min's an' feelings 
 they mus' share so much their background . ..." 
 
 He was out of the chair now; was beside her on 
 the deck. 
 
 "Listen !" he was huskily saying. "We'll get mar- 
 ried right away in Shanghai. We've got to ! I won't 
 let you say no! And then we won't go back. We'll 
 stay out here. There'll be money enough, in spite of 
 the pater. We'll study this East together. I'm going 
 to devote all the rest of my life to it. We'll build our 
 common interest. I shall never want anything else!" 
 
 "How do you know that?" 
 
 "Can you doubt me?" He had both her hands 
 now. He seemed so young, so eager. He would fight 
 for what he greatly desired, as his father had fought 
 before him. However crudely, boyishly, he would 
 fight. 
 
 "No" her own voice was, surprisingly, a little 
 unsteady "of course I don' doubt you. But how can 
 you know what you're going to wan' years from now. 
 I don' un'erstan' that. It does seem pretty romantic 
 to me. I don't know for myself. I coul'n' tell."
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL 261 
 
 This, or perhaps it was her failure to rise to his 
 ecstasy, plunged him again into the depths. 
 
 "It's you or nothing now," he repeated. "You or 
 nothing." 
 
 "Wha' do you mean by that?" 
 
 "I've got to have you. If I can't, I'll oh, I 
 guess I'll just drop quietly overboard. What's the 
 use?" 
 
 "Do you think it's fair to talk li' that?" 
 
 "Perhaps not, but I guess I'm beside myself." 
 
 "Listen!" said she now; with a friendly, even 
 sympathetic pressure of his trembling hands, "I'll tell 
 you what I think. I think the thing for you to do is 
 to go back to college." 
 
 This stung him. "How can you talk like that," 
 he cried, "when " 
 
 "I don' wan' to hurt you. But please try to think 
 this as I wan' you to." 
 
 "Haven't you any feeling for me ?" 
 
 "Of course, an' I'm ver' grateful." 
 
 "For God's sake, don't talk like that." 
 
 There was a pause. He withdrew his hands; 
 plunged his feverish face into them. 
 
 She rose, wearily. Said : "I'm going to try to sleep." 
 
 "And you could go ? Leaving it like this ?" 
 
 "Please! I can't help" 
 
 "Oh, I understand " he was on his feet before 
 her ; caught her arms in his hands that now were firm 
 and young "I haven't moved you yet, that's all. But 
 I will. We Kanes aren't quitters. We don't give up.
 
 262 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 And I'm not going to give you up. I'm going to win 
 you. Can't you see that I've got to? That I can't 
 live .... Listen ! You're the loveliest, daintiest little 
 girl in the world. You're exquisite. Your voice is 
 music to me. I've got to live my life to that music. 
 It'll be beautiful! Can't you see that? I don't care 
 how much time it takes. I'll settle down to it. But 
 I'll win you. And we'll be married at Shanghai?" 
 
 He was very nearly irresistible now. The power 
 in him was real. She broke away; then, a surprise to 
 herself, lingered. Strangely to her, this ardent, still 
 somewhat impossible boy, with his vital, Western 
 force, had actually created an atmosphere of romance 
 in which she was, for the moment, and in a degree, 
 enveloped. She knew, clearly enough, that she must 
 exert herself to escape from it; but lingered. 
 
 He caught her hands again ; covered them with 
 kisses; held them firmly while his eyes, suddenly 
 radiant, sought hers and, during a moving instant, 
 held them. She went below then. And Rocky dropped 
 into the steamer chair and smiled exultantly as he 
 drifted into slumber. 
 
 When they met again, away from the others, after 
 an excellent luncheon of fowl and vegetables prepared 
 by the surprising Miss Carmichael, his mood was 
 wholly changed. He had charm ; consciously or uncon- 
 sciously, he made it felt. 
 
 "I wasn't fair to you," he began. 
 
 "If you don' min'," said she, "we jus' won' talk 
 abou' th'at."
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL 263 
 
 "Can't help it." He smiled a little. "There's no 
 use pretending I can think about another thing. I'm 
 madly in love with you hopelessly gone. It'll prob- 
 ably simplify things if you'll just accept that as a fact. 
 But last night this morning whenever it was! 
 after all we'd been through you know, it wasn't so 
 unnatural that I got all fired up that way." 
 
 As this half-smiling, half-serious youth was 
 plainly going to be even more difficult to manage than 
 the ardent boy of the glowing dawn, she was silent. 
 
 "Here's the thing," he went on. "I was too worn 
 out myself to be considerate of you. I meant every 
 word, of course. You'll never know how won- 
 derful you seem to me." This rather wistfully. They 
 were leaning on the rail, gazing at the rocky hills along 
 the southern bank. "It's all wrong for me to be so 
 impatient. I know I've got to make good. I've got 
 to earn you. That won't come all at once. But I am 
 going to try not to get stirred up like that again. God 
 knows you've got enough to bother you." 
 
 "I'm ver' uncertain abou' my father," said she. 
 
 "How do you mean?" 
 
 "Oh he stays in his room. He doesn' come out 
 with us. An' he's always working." 
 
 "Well does that mean anything? Wouldn't he 
 naturally be busy?" 
 
 "I don' think so. No' like this." 
 
 "But I don't understand what " 
 
 "It isn' easy to say. When a man like father 
 what you call a mandarin feels that he mus' " her
 
 264 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 voice wavered "that he mus' go, there is a grea' deal 
 that he must wri' to his frien's an' to the governmen'. 
 He doesn' wan' to be disturb'. I can' tell wha' he's 
 doing. It worries me." 
 
 8 
 
 Doane, during the sunny dreamy afternoon, heard 
 them, now and again. They were quite monopolizing 
 the pleasant after gallery. And they were drifting on 
 into their love story. He could not restrain himself 
 from watching and listening. Despite the fact that his 
 own dream was over, Doane felt about it, in his heart, 
 like a boy. The sight of her quickened his pulse. 
 Thoughts of her mental pictures came irresistibly. 
 And these, at times, puzzled his heart if never his rea- 
 son; the moment on the top deck of the steamer, 
 when she climbed the after ladder and first confided 
 her tragic difficulty ; the dance she "sat out" with him. 
 ... .He called himself, often enough, a fool. But his 
 spirit refused to accept the words that formed in his 
 mind. He was simply at war with himself .... The 
 sort of thing happened often enough in life, of course. 
 Every man lived through such periods. Men of mid- 
 dle age in particular .... Thus he fell back, over and 
 again, on reason. It was all he could do. Plainly the 
 experience would take a lot of living through. 
 
 To hope that her quick youth could altogether 
 resist Rocky's ardent youth was asking too much, of 
 course. The young people were almost certain to find
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLE 265 
 
 themselves helpless their emotions stirred by what 
 they had been living through; thrown together here, 
 romantically, on the junk. Whatever small diffi- 
 culties they might encounter in exploring each 
 other's nascent feelings would be softened by the 
 very air they were breathing. The young are often, 
 usually, helpless when nature so works upon them .... 
 But Doane wasn't bitter. At times he nearly con- 
 vinced himself that he felt only concern lest they rush 
 along too fast ; surrender their hearts, only to find too 
 late that the necessary affinity was not growing into 
 flower. The boy must have some proving, of course. 
 That lovely girl mustn't be sacrificed. 
 
 Late in the afternoon they were singing, softly, 
 even humorously. Doane caught snatches of Man- 
 dalay, and the college songs. That would seem to them 
 a fine bond, of course the mere casual fact that both 
 knew the songs. For youth is quite as simple as that. 
 .... So they were rushing on with it, while an older 
 man pondered. Rocky hung unashamed on her every 
 word, every movement; waited forlornly about when- 
 ever she went below; starting at sounds, sinking into 
 moods, and shining with radiance when she reap- 
 peared. He even had gentle moments. . . .What girl 
 could be insensible to all that ? He himself was avoid- 
 ing them, of course. There was no helping that; cer- 
 tainly in this stage of the romance. 
 
 His excellency appeared on deck during the second 
 afternoon ; greeted Doane in friendly fashion looking 
 oddly simple in his servant costume; blue gown, plain
 
 266 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 cloth slippers, skull-cap with a knot of vermilion silk. 
 They walked the deck together; later, they sat on a 
 coil of rope. In manner he was very nearly his old 
 self; smiling a thought less, perhaps, but as humanly 
 direct in his talk as a Chinese. 
 
 "We shall soon be parting, Griggsby Doane," he 
 remarked, "and I shall think much of you. Do you 
 know yet where you shall go and what you shall do?" 
 
 "No," Doane replied. "All I can do now is the 
 next thing, whatever that may prove to be." 
 
 "You will help China?" 
 
 "I shall hope for an opportunity." 
 
 "You are, first and last, a Westerner." 
 
 "I suppose that is true." 
 
 "I did think you a philosopher, Griggsby Doane. 
 So you seemed to me. Like our humble great, almost 
 like Chuang Tzii himself. But in the moment of crisis 
 your nature found expression wholly in action. At 
 such times we of the East are likely to be negative. 
 We are a static people. But you, like your own, are 
 dynamic." 
 
 This shrewd bit of observation struck Doane 
 sharply. Come to think, it was true. 
 
 "At the critical moment you wasted not one thought 
 in reflection. You weighed none of the difficulties; 
 you ignored consequences. You took command. You 
 acted. As a result here we are .... I suppose you 
 were right. At any rate, I yielded to your active 
 judgment. It has saved my daughter."
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL 267 
 
 "And you, as well, Your Excellency, if I may say 
 so." 
 
 "Very well myself too. ... I shall always think 
 of you now as I have twice seen you once in that 
 curious boxing match on the steamer; and again as 
 you took command of me and my own house. I regret 
 that in my position as a Manchu, however progressive, 
 I can not be of any considerable service to you with 
 the republicans. It is in their camp that your advice 
 will help. Only there. Shall you go to them?" 
 
 Doane found it impossible to mention the invita- 
 tion of Sun-Shi-pi. That would be a sacred confi- 
 dence. So he replied in merely general terms : 
 
 "I should like to sit in their councils. They seem 
 to represent, at this time, China's only material hope. 
 Though I am not strongly an optimist regarding the 
 revolution. China is so vast, so sunken in tradition, 
 that the real revolution must be distressingly slow. 
 Still, I have some familiarity with the constitutional 
 history of my own country, and, I think, some 
 acquaintance with yours. And I love China. Yes, I 
 should like to help." 
 
 "You are a great man, Griggsby Doane. You have 
 known sorrow and poverty. To the merely successful 
 American I do not look for much real guidance. But 
 China needs you. I hope she will find you out in 
 time." 
 
 They talked on, of many things. His excellency 
 was gently, at times even whimsically, reflective. At 
 length he touched, lightly at first, on the subject of
 
 268 'IN RED AND GOLI) 
 
 Rocky Kane. A little later, more openly, he asked 
 what the boy's standing would be in New York. 
 
 Doane thought this over very carefully. It was 
 curious how that confusing element of mere feeling 
 reappeared promptly in his mind. But he explained, 
 finally, that while the boy was young, and had been 
 passing through a phase of rather adventurous wild- 
 ness, still his father was a man of enormous prestige 
 in society as in the financial world. The boy had nice 
 qualities. Given the right influences he might, with 
 the wealth that would one day be his, become like his 
 father, a powerful factor in American life. 
 
 "I find myself somewhat puzzled," remarked his 
 excellency then. "He seems devoted to my daughter. 
 I can not easily read her mind. And I would not 
 attempt to direct her life as would be necessary had 
 she been merely a Manchu girl reared in a Manchu 
 environment. Is she, do you think, and as your people 
 understand the term, in love with him? I find their 
 present relationship somewhat alarming." 
 
 "It would be difficult to say, Your Excellency 
 thus Doane, simply and gravely. "The young man is, 
 of course, in love with her." 
 
 "Ah," breathed his excellency. "You are sure of 
 that?" 
 
 "Yes. She is undoubtedly accustomed to play 
 about pleasantly with young men as do the young 
 women of America." Sudden, poignant memories 
 came of his own lovely daughter, as she had been ; and 
 of the puzzling romance that had seemed for a time
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL 269 
 
 to injure her young life a romance in which he, her 
 father, had played a strange part. But that was, after 
 all, but an echo from another life; a closed book. 
 
 "Your daughter, I am sure," Doane continued, 
 "can be trusted to form her own attachments. She is 
 a noble as well as a beautiful girl." 
 
 "Indeed you find her so, Griggsby Doane ? That 
 is pleasant to my ears. For into the directing of her 
 life have gone my dreams of the new China and the 
 new world. I would not have her choose wrongly 
 now. But I do not understand her. It is difficult for 
 me to talk freely with her." 
 
 "I am sure," said Doane slowly, "that if you could 
 bring yourself to do so" as once or twice before, in 
 moments of deep feeling, he forgot to use the indirect 
 Oriental form of address "it would make her very 
 happy." 
 
 "You think that, Griggsby Doane?" His excel- 
 lency considered this. Then added : "I will make the 
 effort." 
 
 "If I may suggest talk with her not as father 
 with daughter, but on an equality, as friend with 
 friend." 
 
 His excellency slowly rose; and Doane, also ris- 
 ing, felt for the first time that the fine old statesman 
 fully looked his age. He was, standing there, smiling 
 a thought wistfully, an old man, little short of a broken 
 man. And then his dry thin hand found Doane's huge 
 one and gripped it in the Western manner. This was
 
 270 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 a surprise, evidently as moving to Kang as to Doane 
 himself; for they stood thus a moment in silence. 
 
 "My dearest hope, of late," said the great Manchu 
 the smooth orust of etiquette giving way, for once, 
 before the pressure of emotion "has been that my 
 daughter's heart might be entrusted to you, Griggsby 
 Doane." 
 
 Again a silence. Then Doane: 
 
 "That was my hope, as well." 
 
 "Then" 
 
 "No. It is plainly impossible. All life is before 
 her. The thought has not come to her. It never will. 
 I see now that she could not be happy with me. And I 
 think she ought to be happy. I must ask you not to 
 speak of this again. Let youth call unto youth. And 
 let me be her friend." 
 
 His excellency went below after this. Miss Hui 
 Fei was also below, sleeping. Rocky Kane had been 
 playing with the little princess, out on the gallery ; 
 but now, evidently watching his chance, he came for- 
 ward to the informal seat the mandarin had vacated. 
 
 It was to be difficult always difficult. The boy, 
 plainly, couldn't live through these tense days without 
 a confidant. Doane steeled himself to bear it, and to 
 respond as a friend. There was no way out ; would be 
 none short of Shanghai ; just an exquisite torture. It 
 was even to grow, with each fresh contact, harder to
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL' 271 
 
 bear. The boy was so curiously; unsophisticated, so 
 earnest and honest an egotist. 
 
 " I've asked her," he said now. 
 
 Doane could only wait. 
 
 "She hasn't said yes. That would be absurd, of 
 course so soon." He was so pitifully putting up a 
 brave front. "But she does like me. And it's some- 
 thing that she hasn't said no. Isn't it something?" 
 
 That was hardly a question; it was nearer asser- 
 tion what he had to think. Doane managed to incline 
 his head. 
 
 "But never mind that. God knows why I should 
 bother you with it. You've been so kind such a 
 friend. We are friends, aren't we?" 
 
 Doane felt himself obliged to turn and meet his 
 eyes. And such eyes! Ablaze with nervous light. 
 And then he had to grip another hand this one young, 
 moist, strong. But he managed that, too. 
 
 "Listen! I do bother you awfully, but I've been 
 thinking here we are, you know. God knows when 
 I'll find a man who could help me as you can. And 
 we brought all those wonderful old paintings aboard 
 here. I've been thinking well, since I've got so much 
 to learn of Chinese culture, why not begin ? Couldn't 
 I would they mind if I looked at some of the pic- 
 tures? And if it isn't asking too much you could 
 tell me why they're good. Just begin to give me some- 
 thing to go by. Isn't it as good a way to make the 
 break as any?" 
 
 It was a most acceptable diversion. Doane, though
 
 272 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 several boxes of the paintings were in his own rooms, 
 sent a servant to ask a permission that was cordially 
 granted. And as there was a wind blowing, they 
 went below, and talked there in low voices in order not 
 to disturb the sleeping girl, while the elder man care- 
 fully opened a box and got out a number of the long 
 scrolls that were wound on rods of ivory, handling 
 them with reverent fingers. 
 
 He chose one from the brush of that Chao Meng-fu 
 who flourished under the earliest Mongol or Yuan 
 rulers, a roll perhaps fourteen or fifteen inches in 
 width, and in length, judging from the thickness, as 
 many feet, tied around with silk cords and fastened 
 with tags of carven jade. The painting itself, natur- 
 ally, was on silk, which in turn was pasted on thick, 
 dark-toned paper, made of bamboo pulp, with borders 
 of brocade. The projecting ends of the ivory rollers, 
 like the tags, were carved. 
 
 At the edge of the scroll were, besides the seal sig- 
 nature of the artist, and the date in our chronology, 
 A. D. 1308 many other signatures in the conventional 
 square seal characters of royal and other collectors 
 who had possessed the painting, with also, a few pithy, 
 appreciative epigrams from eminent critics of various 
 periods. On that one margin was stamped the authen- 
 tic history of the particular bit of silk, paper and pig- 
 ment during its life of six full centuries; for no hand 
 could have forged those seals. 
 
 There was no likelihood that the boy lacking, as 
 he was, in cultural background would exhibit any
 
 THE LANDSCAPE SCROLL 273 
 
 sensitive responsiveness to the exquisite brush-work of 
 the fine old painter or to his consciously subjective 
 attitude toward his art. But there is a way in which 
 the simple Western mind that is not preoccupied with 
 fixed concepts of art may be led into enjoyment of 
 such a landscape scroll; this is to exhibit it as do the 
 Chinese themselves, unrolling it, very slowly, a little at 
 a time, deliberately absorbing- the detail and the finely 
 suggested atmosphere, until a sensation is experienced 
 not unlike that of making a journey through a strange 
 and delightful country. Doane employed this method 
 it was surely what that old painter intended and 
 led the boy slowly from a pastoral home, so small 
 beneath its towering overhanging mountain crags, 
 that lost themselves finally in soft cloud-masses, as to 
 appear insignificant, out along a river where lines of 
 reeds swayed in the winds and boats moved patiently, 
 across a lake that was dotted with pavilions and pleas- 
 ure craft on and on, through varied scenes that yet 
 were blended with amazing craftsmanship into a con- 
 tinuous, harmonious whole. 
 
 The time crept by and by. When Doane finally 
 explained the seal characters at the end and retied 
 the old silk cords with their hanging rectangles of 
 unclouded green jade, the sun was low over the west- 
 ern hills. 
 
 Rocky 's face was flushed, his eyes nervously 
 bright. "I don't get it all, of course," he said ; "but it 
 makes you feel somehow as if you'd been reading The 
 Pilgrim's Progress!"
 
 274 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 Doane gravely nodded. 
 
 "Shall we look at another?" said Rocky. 
 
 "No. That is enough. The Chinese know better 
 than to crowd the mind with confused impressions of 
 many paintings. A good picture is an experience to 
 be lived through, not a trophy to be glanced at." 
 
 "I wonder," said the boy, "if that's why I used to 
 hate it so when my tutor dragged me through the 
 Metropolitan Museum ?" 
 
 "Doubtless." 
 
 "And this picture has a great value, I suppose?" 
 
 "It is virtually priceless in East as well as West," 
 replied Doane as he replaced it among its fellows in 
 the box. 
 
 Thus began, late but perhaps not too late, what may 
 be regarded as the education of young Rockingham 
 Kane.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 AT THE HOUR OF THE TIGER 
 
 T^HEY passed, that evening, the region of Peng-tze 
 where Tao Yuan-ming, after a scant three months 
 as district magistrate, surrendered his honors and 
 retired to his humble farm near Kiu Kiang, there to 
 write in peace the verse and prose that have endured 
 during sixteen crowded centuries; and on, then, mov- 
 ing slowly through the precipitous Gateway of Anking 
 and, later, around the bend that bounds that city on 
 the west, south and east. Those on deck could see, 
 indistinctly in the deepening twilight, the vast area 
 of houses and ruins for Anking had not yet recov- 
 ered from the devastations of the T'ai-ping rebels in 
 the eighteen-sixties where half a million yellow folk 
 swarm like ants; and very indistinctly indeed, farther 
 to the north, they could see the blue mountains. 
 Slowly, quietly, then, Anking, with its ruins and its 
 memories fell away astern. 
 
 Half an hour later the sweeps were lashed along 
 the rail. The great dark sails, with their scalloped 
 edges between the battens of bamboo, seeming more 
 than ever, in the dusk, like the wings of an enormous 
 
 275
 
 276 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 bat, were lowered ; and with many shouts and rhythmic 
 cries the tracking ropes were run out to mooring poles 
 on the bank. Forward the mattings were adjusted for 
 the night. The smells of tobacco and frying fish 
 drifted aft. A youth, sipping tea by the rail, put down 
 his cup and sang softly in falsetto a long narrative of 
 friendship and the mighty river and (incidentally) the 
 love of a maiden who slipped away from her mother's 
 side at night to meet a handsome student only to be 
 slain, as was just, by the hand of an elder brother. . . . 
 From the cabin aft drifted a faint odor of incense. A 
 flageolet mingled its plaintive oboe-like note with the 
 song of the youth by the rail .... From a near-by vil- 
 lage came soft evening sounds, and the occasional 
 barking of dogs, and the beat of a watchman's gong. 
 . ... .The greatest of rivers greatest in traffic and in 
 rich memories of the endless human drama was set- 
 tling quietly for the night. 
 
 At the first rays of dawn the forward deck would 
 be again astir. Sails would be hoisted, ropes hauled 
 aboard and coiled ; and the shining yellow craft would 
 resume her journey down-stream, with carven and 
 brightly painted eyes peering fixedly out at the bow, 
 with carefully tended flowers perfuming the air about 
 the after gallery, a thing of rich and lovely color even 
 on the rich and lovely river; slipping by busy ports, 
 each with its vast tangle of small shipping and its 
 innumerable families of beggars in slipper-boats or 
 tubs awaiting miserably the steamers and their 
 strangely prodigal white passengers. T'ai-ping itself,
 
 AT THE HOUR OF THE TIGER 277 
 
 of bloody memory, lay still ahead; and farther yet 
 Nanking the glorious, and Chin-kiang, and the great 
 estuary. Slowly the huge craft would drift and sail 
 and tie, moving patiently on toward the Shanghai of 
 the ever-prospering white merchants, the Shanghai 
 that somewhat vaingloriously had dubbed itself "the 
 Paris of the East." And no one of the thousands, here 
 and there, that idly watched the golden junk as it 
 moved, not without a degree of magnificence, down 
 the tireless current, was to know that a Manchu vice- 
 roy, a prince hunted to the death by his own blood, a 
 statesman known to the courts of great new lands, was 
 in hiding within those timbers of polished cypress. 
 Nor would they know that a princess, his daughter yet 
 strangely of the new order, voyaged with him clad in 
 the simple costume of a young Chinese woman. Nor 
 would they dream of certain inexplicable whites. Nor 
 would they have cared ; for the voyage of the yellow 
 junk was but a tiny incident in the crowded endless 
 drama of the river; to the millions of struggling, 
 breeding, dying souls along the banks and on the 
 water merely living was and would be burden enough. 
 So China merely lives dreaming a little but hoping 
 hardly at all with every eye on the furrow or the till ; 
 lives, and dies, and lives again and on. 
 
 Late in the third afternoon, Rocky Kane, sitting, 
 head forlornly in hands, in his narrow room, heard a
 
 278 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 light step heard it with every sensitive nerve-tip 
 and, springing up, softly drew his curtain. But the 
 quick eagerness faded from his eyes ; for it was Dixie 
 Carmichael. 
 
 Her thin lips curved in the faintest of smiles as 
 she moved along the corridor toward her own cur- 
 tained door. But then, as she passed and glanced back, 
 her skirt, in swinging about, caught on a nail ; caught 
 firmly; and as she stooped to release it, a string of 
 pearls swung down, broke, and rolled, a score of little 
 opalescent spheres, along the deck, a few of them 
 nearly to Rocky's feet. He stooped without a 
 thought at first picked them up and turned them over 
 in his fingers; then, stepping forward to return them, 
 observed with an odd thrill of somewhat unpleasant 
 excitement, that the girl had gone an ashen color and 
 was staring at him with something the look of a wild 
 and hostile animal. She turned then; glanced with 
 furtive eyes up and down the corridor; and swiftly 
 gathering up the remaining pearls clutched them 
 tightly in one hand, extending the other and saying, 
 in a quick half-whisper : "Give me those." 
 
 He hesitated, confused, unequal to the quick clear 
 thinking he felt, even then, was demanded of him. 
 
 "What are you doing with them?" he asked. 
 
 "Not so loud! Come here!" She was indicating 
 her own doorway; even drawing the curtain; while 
 her head moved just perceptibly toward the room 
 immediately beyond her own where Miss Hui Fei, he 
 knew, would be resting at this time.
 
 AT THE HOUR OF THE TIGER 279 
 
 "Where did you get them?" he asked, huskily, 
 doggedly. 
 
 There was a long pause. Again her subtle gaze 
 swept the corridor. "You'd better step in here," said 
 she, very quiet. "I've something to say to you." 
 
 Sensing, still confusedly, that he ought to see the 
 thing through, struggling to think, he yielded to her 
 stronger will. 
 
 She followed him into the room and let the curtain 
 fall. "Give me those pearls," she commanded again. 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 During a tense moment she studied him. She 
 moved over by the translucent window of ground 
 oyster shells, itself, in the mellow afternoon light, as 
 opalescent as the pearls in her hand and his. Her gaze, 
 for an instant, sought the wide stain on the floor where 
 the Manila Kid had, so recently, wretchedly died ; and 
 her instant imagination considered the incomprehen- 
 sible mental attitude of these quiet Chinese who had, 
 without a word, disposed of the body and painstakingly 
 cleansed the spot. No one, observing them day by 
 day, now, as they calmly pursued their tasks, could 
 suspect that the slanting quiet eyes had so lately seen 
 murder. . . .As for the youth before her she was, now 
 that her moment of fright had passed, supremely con- 
 fident in her skill and mental strength. He was, still, 
 little more than an undeveloped boy. And his position, 
 now that he had set up his flag of reform, would be 
 absurdly vulnerable.
 
 280 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "Once more" her low voice was cool and soft as 
 river ice "give them to me." 
 
 He shook his head. "Tell me first where you got 
 them." 
 
 "If you're determined to make a scene," said she, 
 "I advise you to be quiet about it. You wouldn't want 
 her to know you're in here." 
 
 "I I" this was the merest boyishness "I've 
 told her about well, that I tried to make love to you. 
 I'm not afraid of that." 
 
 "Still you wouldn't want her to hear you now." 
 
 This was awkwardly true. And his hesitation as 
 he tried to consider it, to work out an attitude, ran a 
 second too long. 
 
 "The pearls are mine," she pressed calmly on. "The 
 best advice I can give you is to return them and go." 
 
 "But" 
 
 "Do you think I want the people aboard this junk 
 anybody to know that I have them?" 
 
 "I believe you stole them from the viceroy's 
 place." 
 
 "That, of course Well, never mind! What you 
 may believe is nothing to me." 
 
 "Will you tell Mr. Doane about them?" 
 
 "Certainly not. And you won't." 
 
 "Why shouldn't I?" 
 
 "It's none of your business." 
 
 "Perhaps it's my duty." 
 
 "Listen" he felt himself wholly in the right, yet 
 found difficulty in meeting her cold pale eyes "it's
 
 AT THE HOUR OF THE TIGER 281 
 
 my impression that I've been acting rather decently 
 toward you. Of course, I could have " 
 
 "What could you have done?" 
 
 "For you own good, keep your voice down. I will 
 tell you just this you were pretty wild in Shanghai 
 for a week or two." 
 
 "Well?" This was hurting him; but he met it. 
 
 "And there's no likelihood that you've told her all 
 of it. Were you such a fool as to think you could 
 keep it all secret? Out here on the coast and from 
 a woman with as many underground connections as I 
 have?" 
 
 "There's nothing that I" 
 
 "Listen ! I'm not through with you. You've been 
 a very, very rough proposition. I know all about it. 
 No wait ! There's something else. I knew all about 
 you when you were making up to me on the steamer. 
 I could have trapped you then tangled your life so 
 with mine that you could never have got away from 
 me, never in the world. But I didn't. I liked you, and 
 I didn't want to hurt you then." 
 
 "You do want to hurt me now?" 
 
 "It may be necessary." 
 
 "Since you're taking this position" he was find- 
 ing difficulty in making his voice heard ; there seemed 
 to be danger of explosive sounds "probably I'd better 
 just go to Mr. Doane myself with these things." 
 
 "If you do that I'll wreck your life." 
 
 "You don't mean that you'd " 
 
 "You seem to be forgetting a good deal."
 
 282 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "But you " 
 
 "I will defend myself to the limit. I've really been 
 easy with you. You see, you don't know anything 
 about me. Least of all what harm I can do. You'd 
 be a child in my hands. Turn against me and I'll get 
 you if it takes me ten years. You'll never be safe 
 from me. Never for a minute." 
 
 He looked irresolutely down at the lustrous jewels 
 in his hand. 
 
 "You had these sewed in your skirt. There must 
 be more there." 
 
 "Are you proposing to search me ?" 
 
 "No but" .... His black youth was stabbing now, 
 viciously, at his boyishly sensitive heart ; but still, in a 
 degree, he met it. "I'm going to Mr. Doane. I don't 
 care what happens to me." 
 
 He even moved a soft step toward the door; but 
 paused, lingered, watching her. For she was rum- 
 maging among the covers of her bed. He caught a 
 brief glimpse of a hand-bag that she meant him not to 
 see. She took from a bottle two green tablets. Then 
 she faced him. 
 
 To the startled question of his eyes she replied: 
 "They're corrosive sublimate. I shall take them now 
 unless you give me the pearls. If you want to have 
 my death on your hands, take them to Mr. Doane. 
 But it's only fair to tell you that if you do it if you 
 mix in this business your own life won't be worth 
 a nickel. They'll get you, and they'll get the pearls. 
 Bfou're caught in a bigger game than you can play.
 
 AT THE HOUR OF THE TIGER 283 
 
 Get out, while you can" as the low swift words came 
 she reached out and took the pearls from his nerveless 
 hand "and I'll protect you. You can have your 
 pretty Manchu girl. You can ride around in a rick- 
 shaw and look at old temples and buy embroideries. 
 Just don't mix in affairs that don't concern you." 
 
 "I" he was pressing- a hand to a white forehead 
 "I've got to think it over." 
 
 "Remember this, too" she laid a hand on his arm 
 "you could never fasten anything on me. The proof 
 doesn't exist. Nobody can identify unmounted pearls. 
 As a matter of fact I got these" .... during a brief 
 but to her perverse imagination an intensely pleasing 
 moment she closed her eyes and lived again through 
 that strange scene on the steps of the pavilion; again 
 in vivid fancy rolled over the inert body that had been 
 Tex Connor, took the amazing cape of pearls from his 
 shirt and rolled the body heavily back .... "I got these 
 from a man I knew an old friend. Just mind your 
 own business and no one will harm you. But remem- 
 ber, you're walking among dangers. Step carefully. 
 Keep quiet. Better go now." 
 
 He found himself in the corridor; walked slowly, 
 uncertainly, up to the deck; sat by the rail and, head 
 on hand, moodily watched the river and the hills. He 
 asked himself if he had, by his very silence, struck a 
 bargain with the girl ; but could find no answer to the 
 question, only bewilderment. Could it be that she was 
 only a daring thief? It could, of course, but how to 
 get at the truth? Abruptly, then his thoughts turned
 
 284 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 inward. His wild days had seemed, since his change 
 of heart, of the remote past; but they were not, they 
 had still been the stuff of his life within about a week. 
 It was unnerving. He thought, something morbidly, 
 as the sensitive young will, about habits .... The day 
 had gone awry, too, in the matter of his love. A reac- 
 tion had set in. Hui Fei was keeping much to herself. 
 It had become difficult to talk with her at all. And 
 
 that had bewildered him He was all adrift, with 
 
 neither sound training nor a mature philosophy to 
 steady him, life had turned unreal on his hands ; noth- 
 ing was real not Hui or her father, certainly not 
 himself, not even Mr. Doane. His background, even, 
 was slipping away, and with it his sense of the white 
 race. This, it seemed, was a yellow world swarming, 
 heedless, queerly tragic. His soul was adrift, and 
 nobody cared. Toward his father and mother he felt 
 only bitterness. There were, it appeared, no friends. 
 He thought, it seemed, confusedly, excitedly, of 
 everything; of everything except the important fact 
 that he was very young. 
 
 Early on the following morning Doane found the 
 little princess playing about the deck, and with a smile 
 seated himself beside her. She settled at once on his 
 knee, chattering brightly in the Mandarin tongue of 
 her play world. 
 
 He responded with a note of good-humored
 
 AT THE HOUR OF THE TIGER 285 
 
 whimsy not out of key with her alert clear imagination. 
 It was pleasant to fall again into the little intimacies 
 of the language that had become, during these twenty 
 years and more, almost his own. He pointed out to 
 her the trained cormorants diving for fish, and the irri- 
 gating wheels along the banks; and then told quaint 
 stories of the first water buffalo, and of the magic 
 rice-field. 
 
 Soon she, too, was telling stories of the simpleton 
 who bought herons for ducks, of the toad in the lotus 
 pool, of the child that was born in a conch shell and 
 finally crawled with it into the sea, of the youngest 
 daughter who to save the life of her father married a 
 snake, of the magic melon that grew full of gold and 
 the other melon that contained hungry beggars, of 
 the two small boys and the moon cake, and of the 
 curious beginning of the ant species. 
 
 She scolded him for his failure, at the first, to 
 laugh with her. Her happy child quality stirred 
 memories of old-time days in T'ainan-fu, when his own 
 daughter had been a child of six, playing happily about 
 the mission compound. They were poignant mem- 
 ories. His eyes were misty even as he smiled over the 
 bright merriment of this child, and in his heart was 
 a growing wistful tenderness. To be again a father 
 would be a great privilege. He was ripe for it now, 
 tempered by poverty and sorrow, yet strong, with a 
 great emotional capacity on which the world about him 
 had, apparently, no claim to make. He was simply 
 cast aside, left carelessly in an eddy with the great
 
 286 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 stream of life flowing, bankful, by. The experience 
 was common enough, of course. In the great scheme 
 of life the fate of an individual here and there could 
 hardly matter. He could tell himself that, very simply, 
 quite honestly; and yet the strength within him would 
 rise and rise again to assert the opposite. The end, 
 for himself, lay beyond the range of conscious thought ; 
 but at least, he felt, it could not be bitterness. He 
 seemed to have passed that danger. . . . The little 
 princess was soberly telling the old story of the father- 
 in-law, the father, and the crabs that were eaten by 
 the pig. At the conclusion she laughed merrily; and 
 then finding his response somewhat unsatisfactory, 
 scowled fiercely and with her plump fingers bent up 
 the corners of his mouth. 
 
 He laughed then; and rolled her up in his arms 
 and tossed her high in the air. 
 
 When Hui Fei came upon them they were gazing 
 out over the rail. Mr. Doane seemed to be telling a 
 long story, to which the child listened intently. She 
 moved quietly near, smiling; and after listening for a 
 few moments seated herself on the deck behind them. 
 
 The story puzzled her. She leaned forward, a 
 charming picture in her simple costume, black hair 
 parted smoothly, oval face untouched with powder or 
 paint. She smiled again, then, for his story was 
 nothing other than a free rendering into Chinese of 
 Stevenson's : 
 
 "In Winter I get up at night 
 
 And dress by yellow candle-light. . ."
 
 AT THE HOUR OF THE TIGER 287 
 
 He went on, when that was finished, with a ver- 
 sion of: 
 
 "Dark brown is the river, 
 Golden is the sand. ..." 
 
 and other poems from The Child's Garden of 
 Verses. 
 
 Hui Fei's eyes lighted, as she listened. Mr. Doane, 
 it appeared, knew nearly all of these exquisite verse- 
 stories of happy childhood and exhibited surprising 
 skill in finding the Chinese equivalents for certain 
 elusive words. What a mind he had .... rich in read- 
 ing as in experience, ripe in wisdom, yet curiously 
 fresh and elastic ! It seemed to her a young mind. 
 
 The little princess was especially pleased with My 
 Bed Is a Boat, and ma<le him repeat it. At the conclu- 
 sion she clapped her hands. And then Hui Fei joined 
 in the applause, and laughed softly when they turned 
 in surprise. 
 
 "Won't you do The Land of Counterpane?" she 
 asked. 
 
 4 
 
 It was later, when the child had run off to play 
 among the flowers, that he and she fell to talking as 
 they had not talked during these recent crowded days. 
 There were silences, at first. Despite his effort to seem 
 merely friendly and kind, he felt a restraint that had 
 to be fought through. In this time, so difficult for
 
 288 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 her at every point, he felt deeply that he must not fail 
 her. Her greatest need, surely, was for friendship. 
 The excited youth who dogged her steps and hung on 
 her most trivial glance could not offer that. And melan- 
 choly had touched her bright spirit ; he sensitively felt 
 that when the little princess ran away and her smile 
 faded. Sorrow dwelt not far behind those dark 
 thoughtful eyes. 
 
 Early in the conversation she spoke of her father. 
 Her thoughts, clearly, were always with him. 
 
 "I wan' to ask you," said she simply and gravely, 
 "if you know what he is doing." 
 
 Doane moved his head in the negative. 
 
 "He has been in his room for more than a day. 
 When I go to his door he is kin' but he doesn' ask me 
 to come in. And he doesn' tell me anything." 
 
 "He is not confiding in me," said Doane. 
 
 "I don' like that, either, Mis'er Doane. For I 
 know he thinks of you now as his closes' frien'. There 
 is no other frien' who knows what you know. An' 
 you have save' his life an' mine. My father is not a 
 man to fail in frien'ship or in gratituV 
 
 Doane's eyes, despite his nearly successful inner 
 struggles, grew misty again. Impulsively he took her 
 hand gently in his. At once, simply, her slender fingers 
 closed about his own. It seemed not unlike the trust- 
 ing affection of a child ; he sensed this as a new pain. 
 Yet there was strong emotional quality in her; he felt 
 it in her dark beauty, in the curve of her cheek and the 
 lustrous troubled splendor in her eyes, in the slender
 
 AT THE HOUR OF THE TIGER' 289 
 
 curves of her strong young body. She was, after all, 
 a woman grown; aroused, doubtless, to the puzzling 
 facts of life; a woman, with an ardent lover close at 
 hand, who was this as his wholly adult mind now 
 saw her already at her mating time. And feeling 
 this he gripped her hand more tightly than he knew. 
 But even so, he was not unaware of his own danger. 
 It wouldn't do ; once to release his own tightly chained 
 emotions would be to render himself of no greater 
 value to her in her bewilderment than any merely pur- 
 suing male. He set his teeth on that thought, and 
 abruptly withdrew his hand. 
 
 She did not look up her gaze was fixed on the 
 surface of the river. The only indication she gave 
 that she was so much as aware of this odd little act 
 of his was that she started to speak, then paused for a 
 brief instant before going on. 
 
 "I ask ask myself all the time if there is any- 
 thing we coul' be doing." 
 
 Doane's head moved again in the negative. 
 
 "If not even his gratitu' " 
 
 "Gratitude," said Doane gently, "becomes less 
 than nothing when it is demanded." 
 
 "True, it can no' be ask', but it can be given." 
 
 "Sometimes" he was thinking aloud, dangerously 
 "I wonder if any healthy human act is free from the 
 motive of self-interest. Generosity is so often self- 
 indulgence. Self-sacrifice, even in cases where it may 
 be regarded as wholly sane, may be only a culmination 
 or a confusion of little understood desires."
 
 290 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 She looked up at this; considered it. 
 
 "Certainly," he went on, "your father owes me 
 nothing." 
 
 Her hand moved a little way toward his, only to 
 hesitate and draw back. She looked away, saying in 
 a clouded voice : "He and I owe you everything." 
 
 It wouldn't do. Doane waited a long moment, then 
 spoke in what seemed more nearly his own proper 
 character quietly, kindly, with hardly an outward 
 sign of the intensely personal feeling of which his 
 heart was so full. 
 
 "Your father has spoken to me of you as an 
 experiment." 
 
 "You mean my life my education." 
 
 "Yes. He feels, too, that the experiment has not 
 yet been fully worked out. I often think of that 
 your future. It is interesting, you know. You have 
 responded amazingly to the spirit of the West. And 
 of course you'll have to do something about it." 
 
 "Oh, yes," said she, musing, "of course." 
 
 "Whatever personal interests may for a time or 
 at times absorb your life". . . .this was as close as he 
 dared trust himself to the topic of marriage. . . ."I feel 
 about you that your life will seek and find some strong 
 outward expression." 
 
 "Yes I have often fel' that too. Of course, at 
 college I like' to speak. I went in a good 'eal for the 
 debates, an' for class politics." 
 
 "You have an active mind. And you have a fine 
 heritage. Knowing even feeling both East and
 
 AT THE HOUR OF THE TIGER" 291 
 
 West as you do, your life is bound to find some public 
 outlet. Something." 
 
 "I know." She seemed moody now, in a gentle 
 way. Her fingers picked at a rope. "But I don' 
 know what. I don' think I woul' like teaching. 
 Writing, perhaps. Even speaking. That is so easy; 
 for me." 
 
 "There is a service that you are peculiarly fitted 
 to perform." She glanced up quickly, waited. "It is 
 a thought that keeps coming to my mind. Perhaps 
 because it will probably become the final expression of 
 my own life. For my life is curiously like yours in 
 one way. You remember, that that night when we 
 first talked on the steamer " 
 
 "I climb' the ladder," she murmured, picking again 
 at the rope. 
 
 " And we agreed that we were both, you and I" 
 his voice grew momentarily unsteady "between 
 the worlds." 
 
 "Yes, I remember." He could barely hear her. 
 "It is true, of course." 
 
 "It is true. And for myself, I feel more and more 
 strongly every day that I must pitch into the tremen- 
 dous task of helping to make the East known to the 
 West." 
 
 "Tha* woul' be won'erful!" she breathed. 
 
 "I have come to feel that it is the one great want 
 in Western civilization, that the philosophy, the art, 
 the culture, indeed, of China has never been woven 
 into our heritage. It is strange,, in a way we derived
 
 292 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 our religion from certain primitive tribes in Syria. 
 But they had little culture. The Christian religion 
 teaches conduct but very nearly ignores beauty. And 
 then there is our insistent pushing forth of the indi- 
 vidual. I have come to believe that our West will 
 seem less crass, less materialistic, when the individual 
 is somewhat subdued." He smiled. "We need 
 patience sheer quality of thought the fine art of 
 reflection. We shall not find these qualities at their 
 best, even in Europe. They exist, in full flower, only 
 in China. And America doesn't know that. Not 
 now." 
 
 A little later he said : "That work has been begun, 
 of course, in a small way. A slight sense of Chinese 
 culture is creeping into our colleges, here and there. 
 Some of the poetry is being- translated. The art 
 museums are reaching out for the old paintings. The 
 Freer collection of paintings will some day be thrown 
 open to the public. But traditions grow very slowly. 
 It will take a hundred years to make America aware 
 of China as it is now aware of Italy, Egypt, Greece, 
 even old Assyria. . . .and the thing must be freed from 
 Japanese influence we can't much longer afford to 
 look at wonderful, rich old China through the Japanese 
 lens/' 
 
 "An' you're going to make tha' your work," 
 observed Hui Fei. 
 
 "I must. I begin to feel that it is to be the only; 
 final explanation of my life." 
 
 There was a silence. Then, abruptly, in a tone he
 
 AT THE HOUR OF THE TIGER 293 
 
 did not understand, she asked : "Are you going to work 
 for the Revolution?" 
 
 "That is the immediate thing yes. I shall offer 
 my services." 
 
 "Coul' I do anything, you think? At Shanghai, I 
 mean? Of course, I'm a Manchu girl, but I can no' 
 stand with the Manchu Gover'ment. I am not even 
 with my my father there." 
 
 "It is possible. I don't know. We shall soon be 
 there." 
 
 "Will you tell me then at Shanghai ?" 
 
 He inclined his head. Suddenly he couldn't 
 speak. She was holding to him, as if it were a matter 
 of course; yet he dared not read into her attitude a 
 personal meaning of the only sort that could satisfy 
 his hungry heart. The difficulty lay in his active 
 imagination. Like that of an eager boy it kept racing 
 ahead of any possible set of facts. All he could do, of 
 course, was to go on curbing it, from hour to hour. 
 It would be harder seeing her at Shanghai than run- 
 ning away, as he had half-consciously been planning. 
 But it was something that she clung to him as a 
 friend. He mustn't, couldn't, really, fail her there. 
 
 All of the last day they sailed the wide and steadily 
 widening estuary. The lead-colored water was 
 roughened by the following wind that drove the junk 
 rapidly on toward her journey's end. But toward sun-
 
 294 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 set wind and sea died down, and under sweeps, late in 
 the evening, the craft moved into the Wusung River 
 and moored for the night within sight of a line of 
 war-ships. 
 
 A feeling of companionship grew strongly among 
 those fugitives, yellow and white, as the evening 
 advanced. They had passed together through dan- 
 gerous and dramatic scenes. Now that danger and 
 drama were alike, it seemed, over, with the peacable 
 shipping of all the world lying just ahead up the nar- 
 row channel, with, in the morning to come, a fresh 
 view of the bund at Shanghai, where hotels, banks 
 and European clubs elbowed the great trading hongs, 
 with motor-cars and Sikh police and the bright flags 
 of the home land so soon to be spread before their 
 weary eyes, they gathered on the after gallery to chat 
 and watch the flashing signal lights of the cruisers and 
 the trains on the river bank, and dream each his sepa- 
 rate dream. Even Dixie Carmichael, though herself 
 untouched by sentiment, joined, for reasons of policy, 
 the little party. Hui Fei was there, between Doane 
 and the moodily silent Rocky Kane. The Chinese ser- 
 vants smilingly grouped themselves on the deck just 
 above. And finally though it is custom among these 
 Easterners to sleep during the dark hours and rise with 
 the morning light his excellency appeared, walking 
 alone over the deck, smiling in the friendliest fashion 
 and greeting them with hands clasped before his breast. 
 
 Doane felt a little hand steal for a moment into his 
 with a nervous pressure. His own relief was great.
 
 AT THE HOUR OF THE TIGER 295 
 
 For this smiling- gentleman could hardly be regarded 
 as one about to die. They placed him in the steamer 
 chair of woven rushes from Canton. And pleasantly, 
 then, their last evening together passed in quiet talk. 
 
 His excellency was in reminiscent mood. He had 
 been a young officer, it transpired, in the T'ai-ping 1 
 Rebellion, and had fought during the last three years 
 of that frightful thirteen-year struggle up and down 
 the great river, taking part in the final assault on Su- 
 chau as a captain in the "Ever Victorious" army of 
 General Gordon. Regarding that brilliant English 
 officer he spoke freely; Doane translating a sentence, 
 here and there, for young Kane. 
 
 "Gordon never forgave Li Hung Chang," he said, 
 "for the murder of the T'ai-ping Wangs, during the 
 peace banquet. It was on Prince Li's own barge, in 
 the canal by the Eastern Gate of the city. Gordon 
 claimed that Li procured the murder. He was a hot- 
 blooded man, Gordon, often too quick and rough in 
 speech. Li told me, years later, that the attack was 
 directed as much against himself as against the Wangs, 
 and regarded himself as fortunate to escape. He 
 never forgave Gordon for his insulting speech. But 
 Gordon was a vigorous brave man. It was a privilege 
 to observe him tirelessly at work, planning by night, 
 fighting by day organizing, demanding money, 
 money, money with great energy moving troops and 
 supplies. He could not be beaten. He was indeed the 
 'Ever Victorious.' ' 
 
 It was, later, his excellency who asked Hui Fei and
 
 296 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 young Kane to sing the American songs that had 
 floated on one or two occasions through his window 
 below. They complied; and Dixie Carmichael, in an 
 agreeable light voice, joined in. At the last Doane 
 was singing bass. 
 
 The party was breaking up his excellency had 
 already gone below when Rocky, moved to the point 
 of exquisite pain, caught the hand of Hui Fei. 
 
 "Please!" he whispered. "J ust a word!" 
 
 "Not now. I mus' go." 
 
 "But it's our last evening I've tried to be patient 
 it'll be all different at Shanghai I can't let you ..." 
 
 But she slipped away, leaving the youth whispering 
 brokenly after her. He leaned for a long time on the 
 rail then, looking heavily at the winking lights of the 
 cruisers. It was a relief to see Mr. Doane coming 
 over the deck. Certainly he couldn't sleep. Not now. 
 His heart was full to breaking.... The fighting 
 impulse rose. During this past day or so he had 
 seemed to be losing ground in his struggle with self. 
 The startling incident in Miss Carmichael's room had 
 turned out, he felt, still confusedly, as a defeat. It 
 had left him unhappy. This night, out there in the 
 blossom-scented gallery, he had sensed the strange 
 girl, close at hand, cool as a child, singing the old col- 
 lege songs with apparent quiet enjoyment, as an 
 uncanny thing, a sinister force. Even when speaking 
 to Hui Fei, her influence had enveloped him .... This 
 would be just one more little battle. And it must be 
 won.
 
 AT THE HOUR OF THE TIGER 297 
 
 Accordingly he told Mr. Doane the story. The 
 older man considered it, slowly nodding. 
 
 "It is probably the fact," he said, at length, "that 
 she stole the pearls at Huang- Chau. She was with 
 Connor and Watson. But it is also a fact that she 
 might have pearls of her own. And in traveling alone 
 through a revolution it would be her right to conceal 
 them as she chose. It is true, too, that unset pearls 
 couldn't be identified easily, if at all. And she is 
 clever she wouldn't weaken under charges .... No, 
 I don't see what we can do, beyond watching the thing 
 closely. As for her threats against you, they are 
 partly rubbish." 
 
 But Rocky cared little, now, what they might be. 
 Once again he had cleaned the black slate of his youth. 
 His head was high again. He could speak to Hui 
 Fei convincingly in the morning. 
 
 His excellency, alone in his cabin, took from his 
 hand-bag the book of precepts of Chuang Tzii; and 
 seated on his pallet, by the small table on which burned 
 a floating wick in its vessel of oil, read thoughtfully as 
 follows : 
 
 "Chuang Tzii one day saw an empty skull, bleached 
 but intact, lying on the ground. Striking it with his 
 riding whip, he cried, 'Wert thou once some ambitious 
 citizen whose inordinate yearnings brought him to this 
 pass? some statesman who plunged his country into
 
 298 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 ruin and perished in the fray? some wretch who left 
 behind him a legacy of shame? some beggar who 
 died in the pangs of hunger and cold? Or didst thou 
 reach this state by the natural course of old age ?' 
 
 "When he had finished speaking, he took the skull 
 and, placing it under his head as a pillow, went to 
 sleep. In the night he dreamt that the skull appeared 
 to him and said : 'You speak well, sir ; but all you say 
 has reference to the life of mortals and to mortal 
 troubles. In death there are none of these .... In 
 death there is no sovereign above, and no subject 
 below. The workings of the four seasons are unknown. 
 Our existences are bounded only by eternity. The 
 happiness of a king among men can not exceed that 
 which we enjoy/ 
 
 "Chuang Tzii, however, was not convinced, and 
 said : 'Were I to prevail upon God to allow your body 
 to be born again, and your bones and flesh to be 
 renewed, so that you could return to your parents, to 
 your wife and to the friends of your youth, would you 
 be willing?' 
 
 "At this the skull opened its eyes wide and knitted 
 its brows and said : 'How should I cast aside happiness 
 greater than that of a king, and mingle once again in 
 the toils and troubles of mortality ?' " 
 
 He closed the book ; laid on the table his European 
 watch ; and sat for a long time in meditation. As the 
 hands of the watch neared the hour of three in the 
 morning, he took from the bag a box of writing mater- 
 ials, a small red book and a bottle of ^hite pills.
 
 AT THE HOUR OF THE TIGER 299 
 
 The leaves of the book were the thinnest gold. On 
 one of these he inscribed, with delicate brush, the 
 Chinese characters meaning "Everlasting happiness." 
 Tearing out the leaf, then, he wrapped loosely in it one 
 of the pills these were morphine, of the familiar sort 
 manufactured in Japan and sold extensively in China 
 since the decline of the opium traffic and swallowed 
 them together. He inscribed and took another, and 
 another, and another. 
 
 Gradually a sense of drowsy comfort, of utter 
 physical well-being, came over him. The pupils of 
 his eyes shrunk down to the merest pin-points. His 
 head drooped forward. His frail old body fell on the 
 bed and lay peacefully there as his spirit sought its 
 destiny in the unchanging, everlasting Tao.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 HIS EXCELLENCY SPEAKS 
 
 T was daybreak. Doane, standing in his cabin by 
 the opened window, looked out with melancholy in 
 his deep-set eyes over the muddy low reaches that bor- 
 der the Wusung. It was a familiar scene; indeed he 
 knew it better than any spot in his native land the 
 railroad along the bank, the brick warehouses, the 
 native village of Wusung, the inevitable humble fam- 
 ilies in the fields gathering in the last crops of the 
 season. 
 
 Overhead the laopan was shouting, tackle 
 creaked, the crew half sang, half grunted their 
 chanties. From the cruisers, one after another, float- 
 ing musically on the still air, came the call of bugles 
 the reveille of the American navy. So these were ships 
 from home. The stars and stripes would soon, at 
 "colors," be rippling from each gray stern. ... There 
 was an ache in his heart. 
 
 Then other noises came a little confusion of 
 them, somewhere here on the junk excited whispers. 
 a sound that might have been sobbing, and then yes ! 
 the low wailing of women. 
 
 300
 
 HIS EXCELLENCY SPEAKS 301 
 
 He turned ; listened closely. Light feet came run- 
 ning along the corridor. A familiar, lovely voice called 
 his name, brokenly. Then Hui Fei drew aside his cur- 
 tain. Her cheeks were stained with tears. 
 
 Quickly, his arm about her shoulders as she swayed 
 unsteadily, but without a word, he walked beside her 
 along the corridor to the cabin of his excellency .... 
 There were the few servants, kneeling by the inert 
 body and bowing their heads to the floor as they 
 mourned ...*.... Doane straightened the body and closed 
 the eyes.,.!*.,. ^It was Hui Fei who found the roll of 
 documents on the table and placed them in Doane's 
 .hands. He saw then, through the mist that clouded 
 his own eyes, that they were addressed to himself : "To 
 my dear friend, Griggsby Doane, I entrust these my 
 last papers." The name alone was in English ; written 
 in a clear hand, not unlike that of a painstaking school- 
 boy, each letter carefully and roundly formed. 
 
 Hui Fei sent the servants to another cabin, but 
 remained herself, seated on the floor by the side of the 
 huge stroog man who was now without question the 
 head of the strangely assorted family. She was calmer. 
 Doane did not again hear her sob; he did not even 
 see tears. During that difficult moment when Rocky 
 Kane appeared in the doorway and asked huskily, 
 sadly, if he could help, she even smiled, very faintly, 
 very gently, as she moved her head in the negative. 
 And the youth, after a hesitant moment, left them. 
 
 Doane spread out the documents on the floor. The 
 first, addressed directly to himself, he laid aside for
 
 302 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 the moment. To the second, addressed to the throne 
 "by the hand of His Imperial Highness, Prince 
 Ch'un, Regent, as soon as it may be possible to convey 
 to him in this hour of China's sorrow this inadequate 
 expression of my last thoughts" was attached a 
 paper requesting that "my closest friend, Griggsby 
 Doane" read it thoughtfully, "in order that he may 
 understand fully the circumstances in which I find 
 myself at this the end of my long life. 
 
 "I, your unworthy servant," it read "have 
 learned with sorrow and tears of the decree permitting 
 me to withdraw from this troubled life in solitude 
 and peace without the painful consequences of a death 
 by the headsman's sword. And in bowing humbly to 
 your will I, your unworthy servant, recognize that my 
 life lies wholly in your hands to be disposed of as 
 seems best to the imperial wisdom. But in thus prov- 
 ing my never weakening loyalty to the imperial will I 
 also must express the sober thoughts of one who has 
 pondered long over the evils that beset our land and 
 who has ventured at times, weakly, to hope that China 
 might pay heed to certain lessons of recent history and 
 find a way to oppose successfully the pressure of other 
 powerful nations upon us. For it has been my privi- 
 lege, as a long-time servant of the throne, to observe 
 certain of these other nations at first hand and to 
 learn a little of their power, which is very great. 
 
 "On another occasion I, your unworthy servant, 
 wittingly incurred danger of death or imprisonment, 
 because, in the eagerness of my convictions, I dared
 
 HIS EXCELLENCY SPEAKS 303 
 
 to suggest certain reforms to the throne. There is a 
 saying that the tree which bends before the gale will 
 never be broken off but will grow to a ripe old age, 
 and my hope has always been for a great and growing 
 China. At that time princes and ministers about the 
 throne asked permission to subject me to a criminal 
 investigation, but his late majesty was pleased to spare 
 me. Therefore my last years have been a boon at the 
 hand of his late majesty." 
 
 There followed a clear, dignified statement of the 
 urgent need for vast reforms. His excellency recalled 
 :*n detail his long years of service and his decorations 
 and honors. Quietly he called attention to the fact 
 that all, or nearly all, China was in revolt, that the 
 throne tottered, that to permit the government longer 
 to be dominated by corrupt eunuchs was an affront to 
 modern as to ancient thought and morality. It was 
 clear to himself, he stated, that without a skilfully 
 organized system of gradual, perhaps rapid, moderni- 
 zation, China would soon crumble to pieces under the 
 heel of the greedy foreigners. And there was profound 
 pathos in the passing remark that perhaps his suicide, 
 far from home, his vast estate seized by government 
 agents or despoiled by robbers, his person, alone, 
 beyond the reach of harm safe, in fact, with the hated 
 foreigners might stand as a final proof of his loyalty 
 to the throne in serving which his long life had been 
 spent. 
 
 "But at the moment of leaving this world I feel 
 that my mind is not so clear as I could wish. The text
 
 304 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 of this my memorial is ill-written and lacking in clarity 
 of thought. I am no such scholar as the men of olden 
 times; how, then, could I face the end with the calm 
 which they showed ? But there is a saying, 'The words 
 of a dying man are good.' Though I am about to die, 
 it is possible that my words are not good. I can only 
 hope that the empress and the emperor will pity my 
 last sad utterance, regarding it neither as wanton 
 babbling nor the careless complaint of a trifling mind. 
 Thus shall I die without regret. I wish, indeed, that 
 my words may prove overwrought, in order that those 
 who come after, perhaps more happily, may laugh at 
 my foolishness. 
 
 "I pray the empress and the emperor to remember 
 the example of our great rulers of the past in temper- 
 ing peace with mercy; that they may choose only the 
 worthy for public service; that they may refrain from 
 striving for those things desired by the foreigners, 
 which would only plunge China into deeper woe, but 
 that by a careful study of what is good in foreign 
 lands they may help China to hold up her head among 
 the nations and bring us finally to prosperity and 
 happiness. This is my last prayer, the end and crown 
 of my life." 
 
 The junk was moving up the (river as Doane 
 finished reading, passing one of the war-ships. The 
 bugles were blowing again. A beam of warm sunlight
 
 HIS EXCELLENCY SPEAKS 305 
 
 slanted in through the window of stained glass and 
 threw a kaleidoscope of color on the wall. 
 
 Hui Fei sat motionless, her hands folded humbly 
 in her lap, gazing at the floor. Her face was expres- 
 sionless. She seemed wholly Oriental. 
 
 With a sigh, Doane rolled the memorial and tied 
 it with the ribbon. The one beneath it ; he saw now, 
 was addressed to Hui Fei. Without a word he handed 
 it to her and then settled to read his own. Hers was 
 the shorter. When she had finished she lowered it to 
 her lap and sat motionless, as before. 
 
 Doane now took up the paper addressed to himself 
 and read as follows : 
 
 "My friend, Griggsby Doane, grieve not for me, 
 and be sure that in the manner of my end I have had 
 no wish to bring evil upon you. It is in a measure 
 sad that this end should come upon a hired junk instead 
 of on a plot of hallowed ground, as I would have 
 chosen. But there was no choice. I have waited until 
 assured of my daughter's safety. 
 
 "Inform the magistrate at Shanghai of my death, 
 and see that my Memorial to the Throne is forwarded 
 promptly. Give to my daughter Hui Fei the letter 
 addressed to her. It is my wish that you also should 
 read that letter, and I have so instructed her. It is 
 also my wish that she should read this letter to you. 
 Buy for me a cheap coffin, and have it painted black 
 inside. The poor clothes I wear must serve, but I 
 wish that the soiled soles of my shoes be cut off. 
 Twenty or thirty taels will be ample for the coffin.
 
 306 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 I do not believe it will be necessary for the magistrate 
 to hold an inquest. Please have a coating of lacquer 
 put on the coffin, to fill up any cracks, and have the 
 cover nailed down pending the throne's decision as to 
 my remains. Then buy a small plot of ground near 
 the Taoist temple outside of Shanghai and have me 
 buried as soon as possible. There is no need to con- 
 sider waiting for an opportunity to bury me at my 
 ancestral home ; any place is good enough for a loyal 
 and honest man. 
 
 "You will find about a thousand taels in my bag, 
 also the few jewels we found at my home. Sell the 
 jewels and keep for yourself the balance that will 
 remain after my burial expenses are paid. The laopcm 
 of this junk has his money. This he will deny, and 
 will cry for more ; but do not heed him. 
 
 "Remember there is nothing strange or abnormal 
 in my passing; death has become my duty. It may 
 be true that the historic throne of the Manchus is 
 rocking, is falling, but despite the understanding 
 that has been given to me of what is good in Western 
 civilization I have never swayed in my heart from loy- 
 alty to that throne and steadfast devotion to its best 
 interests as I can see them, and I do no less than obey 
 the mandate of my empress and my emperor. 
 
 "Do not grieve unduly for me. It is my wish that 
 all of you, my friends and family, should live happily 
 in the life that lies before you. To you, Griggsby 
 Doane, out of the gratitude and admiration of my 
 proud heart, I give and bequeath all the little that may
 
 HIS EXCELLENCY SPEAKS 307 
 
 be left of my worldly goods, including the money, the 
 pitiful handful of jewels, the historic paintings and my 
 daughter Hui Fei. It is my wish that you will marry 
 her at once, and that in your best judgment you sell 
 any or all of the paintings to provide what money you 
 and she may need, and also that you and she care lov- 
 ingly for the younger child. It may be better to edu- 
 cate her in the Western manner, but that will be as 
 you may decide. In the matter of this marriage with 
 my daughter, Hui Fei, I have sought the opinion of 
 each of you regarding the other. I have your assur- 
 ance that it has been your own wish. And Hui Fei 
 informs me that she respects and admires no man more 
 than yourself. You will see, therefore, that I have 
 approached this matter in the Western spirit, and as a 
 result I see no reason why the marriage should be 
 delayed or that my beloved daughter should be left 
 alone at the mercy of an unscrupulous world. I have 
 informed her, also, of my decision. My gifts to you 
 make a most inadequate dowry, but they are all I 
 have. I wish for you both great happiness and many 
 descendants. 
 
 "And now, Griggsby Doane, my dear friend, I take 
 my leave of you. I, at seventy-four years of age, can 
 claim an unsullied record. My family tree goes back 
 more than seven hundred years; for three centuries 
 there have been members of my clan in the Imperial 
 Household or in the Government Bureaus, and for 
 four hundred years we have devoted ourselves to hus- 
 bandry and scholarship. For twenty-four generations
 
 3 o8 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 my family has borne a good name. I die now in order 
 that a lifetime of devotion to duty and loyalty to the 
 throne may be consummated." 
 
 Slowly Doane lowered the document. He could 
 not speak; he could hardly think. There beside him, 
 still motionless, sat the young woman who was now, 
 by all the traditions of her people, abruptly his. 
 
 Dutifully, observing that he had finished reading, 
 she gave him her own letter; and he, in exchange, 
 handed her his. Thus they read on. And then, again 
 quietly exchanging the documents, they sat without a 
 word by the peaceful body. 
 
 Little by little Doane's brain cleared. It was a 
 time, he felt the time, indeed when all his experi- 
 ence, all his character and skill, must come into use. 
 Now, if ever, he must be wise and steady and kind. 
 Very gently he took her hand; it lay softly in his; 
 she did not lift her eyes. 
 
 "We will not think of this matter now," he said. 
 "Our only thought must be to carry out his plans 
 regarding the funeral. If it shouldn't seem best, later, 
 to fulfill quite all his last wishes, perhaps he, from the 
 other side of the barrier, will understand what he 
 couldn't wholly understand while on this earth. But 
 this I must say now whatever direction your life may 
 take, try to think of me as filling, the best I can, 
 your father's place. I shall hope to be your dearest
 
 HIS EXCELLENCY SPEAKS 309 
 
 friend. Lean on me. Use me. And be sure I will 
 understand." 
 
 Her slim fingers tightened once again about his. 
 
 "He was a won'erful father," she began, and 
 choked a little. 
 
 He left her there; sent in her maid to her; himself 
 mounted to the deck. 
 
 The sun was well up. Other junks sailed up and 
 down the tide. A bluff-bowed freighter, flying the 
 Dutch flag, lay at anchor near one of the Chinese tor- 
 pedo boats that had gone over to the chaotic new 
 republic. The American steamers were far astern, but 
 a motor launch flying an officer's flag and with blue 
 uniforms visible under the awning, plowed by on her 
 way up to the city. In the distance, up ahead, beyond 
 the crowding masts and funnels of the steamers that 
 came from all the world, could be seen the buildings 
 and spires and the smoke-haze of European Shanghai. 
 .... The bund there, within a few hours now, would 
 be crowded with pony-carriages and motor-cars and 
 over-fed tourists riding in rickshaws drawn by ragged 
 coolies. The hotels would be thronging with talkative 
 young women and drink-flushed men, all eagerly 
 retailing confused and inaccurate news of "the revolu- 
 tion" ; out at the British country club on Bubbling 
 Well Road blond men would be playing tennis in 
 flannels; and the gambling houses would be brightly 
 illuminated until late at night, and the Chinese shop- 
 keepers in Nanking Road would be selling their 
 souvenir trinkets, their useless little boxes of coin-
 
 3io IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 silver and cloisonne and damascene work and their 
 painted snuff-bottles and green soapstone necklaces 
 and blue-and-white pottery quite as if no troubles could 
 ever arise to disturb the destiny of nations. 
 
 Doane sighed again. The last letter of his excel- 
 lency was in his hand, held tightly ; though he was not 
 at this time aware of it. He glanced aft, and saw 
 Rocky Kane standing on the gallery, among the 
 flowers, gazing not forward toward the jangling, 
 money-seeking, pleasure-mad city that is the principal 
 point of contact between the culture of the West and 
 that of the East, but off astern, as if endeavoring to 
 see again the lost Yangtze Kiang of his glowing 
 romance. 
 
 Doane went to him; aware, then, of the paper 
 rolled so tightly in his hand, said a huge figure, 
 towering over the boy, his face sad and more than 
 ever deeply lined, but with a grave kindliness about 
 the eyes : 
 
 "My boy, it is important that you and I have a 
 talk. Suppose we sit down." He indicated the 
 steamer chair; but Rocky insisted that he take it, him- 
 self dropping heavily down on the step of the deck. 
 
 "How how is she standing it?" he asked, his 
 troubled eyes searching that strong face before him. 
 
 "As well as we could ask. It is bound to be very 
 hard for her especially during these next few days. 
 But she has courage. And she knows he would wish 
 her not to mourn.... A matter has come up that 
 concerns you, Rocky" it was the first time he had
 
 HIS EXCELLENCY SPEAKS 311 
 
 used that familiar name ; the boy's moody eyes bright- 
 ened momentarily, and a touch of color rose in his 
 cheeks "and I don't feel I can delay telling you about 
 it. First, you had better let me read you this." 
 
 He had not thought, before this moment, of the 
 necessity that he himself make the translation for the 
 boy. It had to be difficult ; he would have given much 
 if the thing could have been managed in some less 
 directly personal way; but for that matter, difficulties 
 lay so thickly about him now that there was no good in 
 so much as giving them a thought. And so deliber- 
 ately, with great care to find the nearly precise English 
 equivalent of every obscure phrase he read the letter 
 through. 
 
 He dared not look at the boy's face, but could not 
 but become aware of the hands that twitched, clasping 
 and unclasping, in his lap, and of the feet that at 
 times nervously tapped the deck. When the task 
 was done he quietly folded the paper and slipped it 
 into a pocket. 
 
 The silence grew long and trying. Doane searched 
 and searched his own still confused mind for the 
 right, the clear word ; but could not, during these earlier 
 moments, find it. The boy, plainly, was crushed; but 
 behind the clouded eyes and the knit brows an emo- 
 tional storm was gathering. Doane felt that. It had 
 to come, of course. And it would have to be handled. 
 
 But the first words were almost calm. 
 
 "So that" -thus the brooding youth "so that's 
 how it is !"
 
 312 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 Doane waited. After a little the boy sprang up. 
 
 "But in God's name, why didn't you tell me!" he 
 cried. "You've let me come and talk to you ! You 
 This isn't fair! You've made a fool of me! You " 
 
 Doane rose too. They stood side by side among 
 the heavily scented blossoms. Doane felt moved to 
 put a kindly hand on the slender shoulder beside him ; 
 but a following thought cautioned him that even a 
 touch would be resented at this moment. 
 
 "I didn't tell you," he said, "because until I read 
 this paper I didn't know." 
 
 "But you must have known ! You told him. Told 
 him you loved her! Probably you've been telling her, 
 too here under my eyes. Oh, God, what a fool I've 
 been. . . .If you'd only been square with me!" 
 
 "This is not fair," said Doane, still very quiet. 
 "We must talk this out, but not now not while you 
 are angry." 
 
 "Angry! What in heaven's name is the sense of 
 talking it out! It's settled, isn't it?" 
 
 "I'm not sure." 
 
 "That's not so!" The boy seemed to be recover- 
 ing somewhat now from the first shock of unreason. 
 He turned away J .D hide the tears in his eyes. "You've 
 admitted to her father, if not to her, that you love 
 her. . . . Oh, why didn't I see it! Why did I have to 
 be such an awful fool!. . . . She knows it now. And 
 you know as well as I what she'll do. She'll never go 
 against her father's last wish never. You know 
 that!"
 
 "I recognize that she must be seeing it in that 
 light now, but " 
 
 "Oh, what's the use of talk. You know! For God's 
 sake, let me alone, can't you !" 
 
 Doane's brows drew slowly together; but this and 
 a note of something near command in his voice, were 
 the only outward indications of the storm within his 
 breast. 
 
 "This is not a time for either you or me to be 
 thinking of ourselves. You may be sure that Hui Fei 
 will not be thinking so. And it may help you to 
 realize that this situation is difficult for me, as it is 
 for you. It is true that Hui Fei's only thought, now, 
 under the stress of this sorrow^ will be to submit to 
 her father's every wish. But this stress will pass. 
 There is only one course to take " 
 
 "But" 
 
 "Listen to me! And try to meet the thing like a 
 man. We will wait until this sad business is over. 
 We will at least try to give up thinking of ourselves. 
 I will see that Hui Fei and her sister are cared for by 
 friends." 
 
 "But all the time you'll be seeing her, and " 
 
 "I must still ask you to listen and try to think 
 clearly. As soon as it seems wise I will lay the situa- 
 tion before Hui Fei. I will try to persuade her that 
 her own life is, in the last analysis, more important 
 than even her father's dying wish. I believe that she 
 would be happier with a young man like yourself 
 than with an older man. It is possible that she can
 
 314 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 be led to see that her own happiness must be a factor 
 in her choice. Have you the patience and the courage 
 to wait for that?" 
 
 He extended his hand. The boy looked at it, then 
 up 'at the stern but still kindly face; hesitated; then, 
 with a quivering of the lip and an explosive "Oh 
 God!" rushed away; walked very fast, almost ran, 
 the length of the deck; made his way through the 
 crowded waist and around the cook's well; and stood, 
 his bare head thrown proudly back, in the prow, 
 beside the quietly wondering tcd-kung, staring toward 
 the long curving sweep of the tree-shaded bund of 
 Shanghai as it came gradually into view around the 
 bend just below the city.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 "T'HE yellow junk was now abreast the landing hulks 
 of the great international shipping companies just 
 below the city. Rocky left the bow and made his way 
 to the after cabins without once lifting his somber 
 gaze to the silent figures on the poop. Slowly his 
 eyes wild, his thoughts beyond control, bitterness in 
 his heart he moved along the dim corridor. 
 
 A puff of wind found its way through an open 
 window; a blue curtain swung out, discovering, 
 through a doorway, Miss Carmichael, seated in a 
 chair beneath the window. It was lighter in her 
 cabin. She had laid aside the familiar middy blouse 
 and skirt, and appeared to be sewing something on her 
 petticoat. For an instant she looked up, her eyes 
 meeting those of the pale youth who stood motionless 
 in the corridor. The curtain swung back then; but 
 as it swung the youth stepped through the doorway 
 and stood within the room. 
 
 "I don't know that I asked you in," said she coolly. 
 
 His eyes were intent on the amazing, glistening 
 strings of pearls that were looped everywhere about 
 her clothing. 
 
 315
 
 3i6 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 Through narrowed lids she watched him, sitting 
 very still, needle poised just as she had drawn it 
 through. On his young face was an expression of firm 
 decision that she had not before seen there. He looked 
 oddly, now, like his father. There was, apparently, a 
 trace of the Kane iron in him. The situation was of 
 wholly accidental origin; he couldn't have planned it; 
 his first expression, out in the corridor, had been of 
 startled surprise ; the decision to step within must have 
 been instant; yet now, suddenly, he meant business. 
 She caught all that. . . . Here, after all, was a young 
 man who presented difficulties. 
 
 "Take off those pearls," said he quietly. 
 
 "You are in my room," said she as quietly. 
 
 "I shall take the pearls when I go." 
 
 "You'll have my life to answer for." 
 
 "Your life is nothing to me." 
 
 "Your own life is." 
 
 "Never mind about that." 
 
 "I've warned you fairly." 
 
 "Stand up." 
 
 "You propose to take them from me by force?" 
 
 "Yes. Unless you choose to give them to me." 
 
 "And you expect me to trust you with them." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 There was a silence. 
 
 "Of course you are stronger than I," she observed 
 musingly. 
 
 He offered no reply to this. 
 
 Her thin mouth curved into the faint smile that
 
 THE WORLD OF FACT 317 
 
 was as cold as her calculating brain. "So" said she 
 "we're enemies, then ?" 
 
 This evidently did not interest him. 
 
 "I think," she went on, quietly desperate, "that I'll 
 try crying and screaming. I'm something of an 
 actress." 
 
 "Scream your head off/' said he, the slang phrase 
 sounding almost courteous in this new quiet voice of 
 his. 
 
 "There's not a person alive that could prove 
 these pearls aren't my own." Her voice dwelt on that 
 one telling word, "alive," with an almost caressing note 
 of satisfaction. 
 
 He shook his head with a touch of impatience. 
 And she was studying him, her quick thoughts darting 
 sharply about darting in every conceivable direction 
 for an avenue of escape. She knew, however, as the 
 moments passed and the pale youth stood his ground 
 that there was only one. She had supposed him weak. 
 It hardly seemed that her judgment could have gone 
 so far wrong. 
 
 "You're cruel to me," she said softly. 
 
 "Stand up." 
 
 Now she obeyed. He drew near. 
 
 "I didn't think you'd turn out this sort, Rocky. 
 You liked me at first." She moved a hand, hesitat- 
 ingly, within reach of his own. But he ignored it. 
 "Aren't we going to see each other at Shanghai ? Are 
 you just going to be brutal with me like this ? . . . . 
 I'd like to see you."
 
 318 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "Will you take them off," said he, "or must I?" 
 
 She turned to him, with curiously mixed passions 
 coming to life in her face. 
 
 "Oh, my God, Rocky!" she cried very low, 
 "haven't you any human feelings ? Can you just come 
 m here into my own room and rob me, without a 
 
 decent word? Haven't I played fair with you? 
 
 Haven't I kept out of your way ? Haven't I ? " 
 
 She moved close against him, slid her sensitively thin 
 hands over his shoulders; looked straight up into his 
 eyes, almost honestly. "Rocky, don't tell me you're 
 this kind !".... She was clinging to him now. 
 
 He caught her hands, and, without roughness but 
 with his young strength, removed them. She let them 
 fall at her side. 
 
 "I'm not going to wait much longer on you," he 
 said. 
 
 "You're hard as nails, Rocky." Her underlip was 
 quivering; her pale eyes were a little darker, and 
 seemed full of feeling. She turned suddenly to the 
 rough bed, and reached under the cover for her shop- 
 ping bag. Hiding it from him with her body, she 
 opened it and took out the triangular bottle; then lin- 
 gered an instant to look at the clasps of the pearl cape 
 that were set with large, perfectly cut diamonds. 
 There were five of the clasps, and perhaps fifty of the 
 sparkling, glittering stones. In value they would vary 
 somewhat; but in themselves, even without the pearls, 
 they represented a fortune. She quietly closed the bag 
 and replaced it under the covers.
 
 THE WORLD OF FACT 319 
 
 With the rough-edged little bottle in her hand she 
 faced him. 
 
 "I knew a girl," she said, with a far-away look 
 in her eyes, "who took five of these tablets and then 
 lived two days. She suffered terribly, of. ..." 
 
 He caught the bottle from her hand and threw it 
 against the wall, where it broke. The green pills 
 rolled about the floor. 
 
 "Oh, well," she remarked "I can take them after 
 you've gone." 
 
 "After I've gone you can do as you think best." 
 
 "But something will have to be done about me, 
 Rocky. You'll have to get me ashore. And see about 
 burying me .... And you'll have to explain me." 
 
 This moved him not at all. Apparently he was to 
 be one of the Kanes strong, pitiless, destined for suc- 
 cess and power. There would be weak moments; but 
 all that her uncannily shrewd eyes saw in him. For 
 that matter, Miss Carmichael had known many men 
 of the sort that in America are termed "big" certain 
 of them with an unpleasant secret intimacy and each 
 had possessed and (at moments) been possessed by 
 strong passions. It had never been wholly a matter of 
 what is called brain; always there had been emotional 
 force, with a dark side as well as a bright. 
 
 Overhead the great clumsy sails creaked. Soft 
 feet pattered about the deck. The nasal voices of the 
 crew broke into a chantey. A chain rattled. 
 
 "We must be there," said she. "We're anchoring, 
 I think." And she glanced out the window at one
 
 320 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 of the roofed-over opium bulks that lay in those days 
 directly opposite the bund. Finally she looked again 
 at him. 
 
 "Very well," she said then; and raised her arms 
 above her head. Swiftly, at once, he began stripping 
 off the festoons of pearls. The only other thing said 
 was her remark, in a casual tone: "It's understood 
 that you're using force. And you'll hear from it, of 
 course." 
 
 As soon as he had gone she slipped into her blouse 
 and skirt. Once again she looked thoughtfully at the 
 radiant gems that were left to her; then went, coolly 
 swinging the little bag, up on deck, where certain 
 of the crew were already drawing around to the ladder 
 at the side the sampan that had been towing astern. 
 
 Rocky had gone directly, on tiptoe, to Doane's 
 cabin. The huge sad-faced man was there; quick, 
 however, with a kindly smile. 
 
 Rocky said "I beg your pardon, sir?" stiffly, 
 not unlike a proud young Briton and from a tied-up 
 handkerchief and bulging pockets even from his shirt 
 above his tightly drawn belt produced enormous 
 quantities of perfectly matched large pearls ; laid them 
 on the bed in a heap; helped Mr. Doane make a bundle 
 of them in a square of blue cloth. 
 
 "They are yours, sir," he explained. 
 
 He withdrew then, with a coldness of manner that 
 to the older man was moving; and went out on deck 
 to await his turn in the sampan.
 
 THE WORLD OF FACT 321 
 
 Doane found a temporary home for Hui Fei and 
 her sister at the mission compound of his friend, Doc- 
 tor Henry Withery, in the Chinese city; himself 
 lodging with other friends. Rocky went to the Astor 
 House, across Soochow Creek, which was still, in 1911, 
 a famous stopping place for the tourists, diplomats, 
 military and commercial men., and all the other more 
 prosperous among the white travelers that pour into 
 Shanghai from everywhere else in the world by the 
 great ships that plow unceasingly the Pacific and 
 Indian Oceans and the Yellow and China Seas ; to pour 
 out again (in peaceful times) from Shanghai by rail 
 and by lesser craft of the river and the coast to Hong 
 Kong and Manila to Hankow, to Tientsin and Peking, 
 to Nagasaki, Kobe, Yokohoma and Tokio....and 
 Shanghai had never been so crowded as now, with its 
 thousands of travelers detained, awaiting news from 
 this or that revolutionary center; with the American 
 Marines and the British and German sailors; with 
 Manchu refugees swarming into the foreign settle- 
 ments ; with revolutionists, queueless, wearing unaccus- 
 tomed European dress, parading everywhere. 
 
 Doane found time to call at the hotel and leave 
 word regarding the burial of his excellency; but was 
 not to know that Rocky, himself, immured in his room, 
 gave the word that he was out and there awaited 
 the friendly chit that Doane sent up by the blue-robed 
 servant. Nor was he to know that the boy dressed
 
 322 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 carefully for the ceremony, only to find the ordeal too 
 great for his overstrung emotions. It was as an after- 
 thought, a day or two later that Doane sent him Hui 
 Fei's address. 
 
 It was after this sad experience that Doane, in 
 accordance with his promise to the late Sun Shi-pi, 
 called on Doctor Wu Ting Fang and offered his 
 services to the revolutionary party. Another day 
 and he was hard at work, bending his strong, 
 finely trained and experienced mind to the great 
 task of presenting the dreams and the activities of 
 Young China fairly and sympathetically to the press 
 and the governments of the Western World .... And 
 so Griggsby Doane, concealing at moments almost 
 from his own inner eye the ache in his heart, the 
 unutterable loneliness of his solitary existence, found 
 himself once more fitting into the scheme of organized 
 human life. A grave man, with sad eyes but with a 
 slow kindly smile, always courteously attentive to the 
 person and problem of the moment, thinking always 
 clearly and objectively out of a comprehensively toler- 
 ant background that seemed to include all nations and 
 all men; a gently tactful man; a tireless, powerful 
 figure of a man, who could work twenty hours on end 
 without a trace of fatigue, going through masses of 
 minor detail without for a moment losing his broad 
 view of the major problems such was the Griggsby 
 Doane one saw at revolutionary headquarters during 
 that late autumn of 1911 . . . .Life had caught him up. 
 Whatever his private sorrow, the world needed him
 
 THE WORLD OF FACT 323 
 
 now. Rapidly, in all that confusion, he was formulat- 
 ing policies, helping to direct the current of one stream 
 of destiny. In past years Griggsby Doane had been 
 discussed and forgotten. He had even been laughed 
 at as an unfrocked missionary by ribald, dominant, not 
 infrequently drunken whites along the coast. It 
 occurred to no one to laugh at him now. 
 
 These were the days when in half the provincial 
 capitals of China the Manchus that had ruled during 
 nearly three centuries were hunted to their death, men 
 and women alike, like vermin. Bloody heads decor- 
 ated the lamp posts that had been erected in the West- 
 ern fashion beside freshly macadamized streets. 
 Slaughter, as in other dramatic moments in Oriental 
 history, had become a pastime. Palaces and wealthy 
 homes in a hundred cities were looted and burned, and 
 a vast new traffic started up in the silks and paintings 
 and pottery and objects of art suddenly thrown into 
 the market. . . . Hankow had been taken by the 
 imperial troops, but was to be recaptured as a charred, 
 gutted ruin. General Li Yuan-hung was now "presi- 
 dent of the Republic of China," up at Wu Chang, by 
 right of military organization and popular acclaim. 
 Admiral Sah, of the Imperial Navy, was about to wit- 
 ness the unanimous mutiny of his fleet. The great 
 Yuan Shi-K'ai, himself a Chinese born, was in com- 
 mand of the imperial troops while negotiating on 
 either hand with the frantic throne and the upsurging 
 revolutionists. At Peking heads were falling and 
 great princes were fleeing or hiding pitifully within
 
 324 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 the walls of the legations .... Within a few weeks 
 Sun Yat Sen was to leave London on his long journey 
 eastward by way of Suez and Singapore, but without 
 the enormous golden treasure so confidently expected 
 by the revolutionists. Before his arrival, even, he was 
 to be elected president of the new China, in the recently 
 captured Nanking where a National Assembly in 
 cropped heads and frock coats already would be 
 grinding out fresh tangles of legislation .... The 
 event was outrunning the mental capacity of man. 
 What was now tragic confusion would grow through 
 the swift-following years into tragic chaos, as the most 
 numerous and most nearly inert of peoples struggled 
 out of the sluggish habit of centuries toward the dubi- 
 ous light of modernity. 
 
 But through the chaos Griggsby Doane was never 
 for a moment to lose the new vision that had finally 
 cleared his long troubled mind. Behind the crumbling 
 of the empire, underlying the torn and bleeding sur- 
 face of Chinese life, lay a tradition finer, he was to 
 believe until his dying day, than any so far developed 
 in the truculent West a delicate responsiveness to 
 beauty in nature and art, a reflective quality, an instinct 
 for peace it was all these at once, and more ; a blend 
 of art in living and living in art; a finish that was 
 exquisite in concept, a sensitiveness that lifted the soul 
 of man above the ugly fact Even the brittle perfec- 
 tion of Chinese etiquette regulating every passing 
 human contact, clothing in silken manner the naked 
 thought was like a fine lacquer over the knotted wood
 
 THE WORLD OF FACT 325 
 
 of life.... America, he felt, with all its earnestly 
 insistent young virtues, worshiped the fact. To the 
 Americans must be preached the gospel of sensitive 
 thought, of reflective enjoyment of the beautiful. 
 Those old master painters of Tang and Sung breathed 
 beauty; it was sweet air in their lungs; whereas in 
 America beauty was too often like a garment to be 
 bought in a shop and worn for show. . . . Yes, this 
 revolutionary work was a gratifying opportunity for 
 service, of great momentary importance because the 
 Chinese people must be rescued from Manchu con- 
 querors and their eunuchs, from disease and famine, 
 and from ignorance of the new world that had come 
 amazingly, brutally, into being while the old Middle 
 Kingdom slumbered; but it was not the main work. 
 The aggressively greedy West, now, with its mer- 
 chants and war-ships and armies, was destroying the 
 soul of China even while teaching her a smattering of 
 the materialistic new faith. There must be a counter- 
 influence; as the East now so strongly felt the West, 
 so must be the West made sensitively aware of the 
 East. It was fair give and take. It might yet help 
 the world to find a stable balance .... This was what 
 the difficult life of Griggsby Doane was coming to 
 mean. The East had crept into his heart. So he must 
 turn back to the West. 
 
 3 
 
 For three days Mr. Doane's brief chit with the 
 address of Hui Fei in the native citjr burned in Rocky
 
 326 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 Kane's pocket; then, early in the third afternoon, he 
 went down to the Japanese steamship offices (for the 
 keen little brown people had already captured the 
 Pacific traffic from the Americans) and bought the 
 second officer's room on a crowded liner leaving at 
 
 the end of the week for San Francisco On the 
 
 fourth afternoon he called a rickshaw and rode out 
 beyond the American post-office to the address the 
 older man had given him. 
 
 But Mr. Doane, it appeared, was not in ; already he 
 was established at Doctor Wu's revolutionary head- 
 quarters. Rocky considered driving there; even took 
 the address and rode part of the way ; but reconsidered, 
 returned to the hotel, and sent a messenger to Hui Fei 
 with this chit: 
 
 "I'm sailing Saturday. Do you feel that you could 
 see me for a few moments?" 
 
 The reply, within the hour, bade him come. He 
 found her in Western dress a tailored suit, very sim- 
 ple; her glistening black hair parted smoothly as he 
 would always most vividly remember it gently sad 
 in manner, yet able to smile. She would be like that, 
 come to think of it; not crushed by the tragedy, not 
 sunken in the grief that, among Westerners, is so often 
 a sort of histrionic egotism .... They sat in a tiled 
 courtyard among dahlias. More than ever like a 
 proud young Briton was Rocky. 
 
 "It is good of you to see me." Thus he began 
 
 "I couldn't go without a word." 
 
 \
 
 THE WORLD OF FACT 327 
 
 She murmured then : "Of course not." 
 "I want you to know, too, that I am coming to 
 see" he had to pause; in this new phase of sober 
 young manhood he had not yet achieved steady self- 
 control. 
 
 She broke the silence with a question about the 
 revolution. It is to his credit that he talked, stumbling 
 only at first, clearly. And as the strain of the meeting 
 gradually relaxed, he became aware of her sobered but 
 still intense absorption in the struggle; aware, too, 
 increasingly, of her strong gift of what is called per- 
 sonality. Her mind was quick, bright, eager better, 
 it seemed (he had to fight bitterness here) than his 
 own. And she was impersonal to a degree that he 
 couldn't yet attain couldn't, in fact, quite understand. 
 He had to speak slowly and carefully; feeling his way 
 with a dogged determination among uprushing emo- 
 tions, moved as never before by the charm of appear- 
 ance and manner and speech of which she was so 
 prettily unconscious. He had come perhaps with 
 more than a touch in him of (again) that Western 
 histrionism, the intense overstressing of the individual 
 and his feelings as a man who was effacing himself 
 that the woman he loved might be happy with another 
 man. Confused with this wholly unconscious call 
 upon the sympathies, undoubtedly, was- an unphrased 
 incredulity that she so strongly a person, fine and 
 courageous and outstanding as he knew her to be 
 could accept this being almost casually left as part of 
 a legacy to that other man. It was incredible. Unless
 
 328 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 she loved the other man .... So he came around 
 again to the personal ; unaware, of course, that he was 
 feeling inevitably with his strongly individualistic race. 
 Even when she dwelt on race, a little later in their talk, 
 he found no light. He couldn't have ; for the Ameri- 
 can seldom can see what lies outside himself. 
 
 "I don' know yet what I can do," she was saying, 
 very honestly and simply (they hadn't yet mentioned 
 Mr. Doane). "Of course I'm a Manchu, after all. An' 
 blood does coun'. I feel that. A good many people 
 to-day talk differen'ly, I know. We saw a good 'eal 
 of Socialism at college. The idealists to-day the 
 Jews an' Russians an' even some of our Chinese stud- 
 ents the younger men talk as if race doesn' matter. 
 But of course it does. It will ta' thousan's of years, 
 I suppose, to bring the races together. An' maybe it's 
 impossible. Maybe it can' be done at all. I think tha's 
 the tragedy of so much of this beautiful dreaming. . . . 
 An' here you see I'm a Manchu, an' yet I wan' the 
 Manchus put out of China. . Because they won' let 
 China grow. An' China mus' grow, or die." 
 
 He was moodily watching her; head bowed a lit- 
 tle, gazing out under knit brows. "Do you know," 
 he said, "it's a queer thing to say, of course, but some- 
 times you make me feel terribly young." 
 
 She smiled faintly. "You are rather young, 
 Rocky." 
 
 He closed his eyes and compressed his lips; his 
 name, on her lips, was dangerously thrilling music 
 to him. After a moment he went doggedly on.
 
 THE WORLD OF FACT 329 
 
 "The crowds I've gone with at home haven't talked 
 about these things. They wouldn't think it good 
 form." 
 
 "I know," said she. "They woul'n'." 
 
 "I'm beginning to wonder if we're well, intel- 
 ligent, exactly. You know just motors and horses 
 and girls and bridge and 'killings' in Wall Street." 
 
 "Killings?" Her brows were lifted. 
 
 "Oh picking up a lot of money, quick." 
 
 "That," she mused, "is what I sometimes worry 
 about. You know, I love America. I have foun' hap- 
 piness there. I love the books an' the colleges and the 
 freedom an' all the goo' times. But it is true, I think 
 money is God in America. Pipple don' like to have 
 you say it, of course. But I'm afraid it is true. Ever'- 
 thing has to come to money the gover'men', the 
 churches, ever'thing. I have seen that. That is the 
 hard side of America. I don' like that so well." 
 
 Finally coming down, helplessly, on the personal, 
 yet with a courageous light in his eyes he said: "I 
 do want you to know this Hui. You won't mind 
 my speaking of my love for you " 
 
 Her hand moved a very little way upward. 
 
 "Please! I can't help that. It's my life now. I'm 
 full of you. And it has changed me. I'm I'm going 
 back. . . .I'm going at things differently. I want you 
 to know that. Because if I hadn't met you it couldn't 
 possibly have happened. And if I hadn't well, 
 learned what it means to love a wonderful girl like
 
 330 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 you. I want you to know how big the change is that 
 you've made." 
 
 "Rocky/' she said gently "will you do something 
 for me?" He waited..,. ."I wan' you to go back to 
 college." 
 
 "I've already made up my mind to that," he replied, 
 more quietly. "It's the job for me now. It's the next 
 thing." 
 
 "I'm glad," said she. "An' I'd love it if you'd 
 write to me sometimes," 
 
 He inclined his head. 
 
 Then, for a moment, his old turbulent inner self 
 unexpectedly (even to himself), lifted its head. 
 
 "I tried to see Mr. Doane that is, I thought per- 
 haps I ought to tell him that I was coming out here . . " 
 
 She seemed slightly puzzled at this. Her lips 
 framed questioningly the words: "Tell him?" 
 
 "I I perhaps can't say much but I'm sure you 
 and he will be happy. I oh, he's a big man. He's 
 terribly busy now, of course you know what he's 
 doing at Wu Ting Fang's headquarters?" 
 
 She inclined her head rather wearily, saying: "He 
 wrote me a ver' kin' note jus' to say that he was 
 busy." 
 
 "They talk about him some at the hotel. All of a 
 sudden he seems to be a power here." 
 
 She went without a further word into the house, 
 returning with a slip of paper. Into her manner had 
 crept at the mention of Doane's name, a gentler, more 
 wistful quality that she seemed not to think of con-
 
 THE WORLD OF FACT 331 
 
 cealing 1 ; it was even a confiding quality, intimately 
 friendly. 
 
 "I don' quite understand it," she said. "A gen'le- 
 jman called from the Hong Kong Bank an' lef this." 
 
 Rocky read the paper; a receipt for a sealed parcel 
 of pearls and for other separate jewels and a sum of 
 money. 
 
 "Oh he put it all there in your name," said he, 
 while a sudden new hope rose into his drying throat 
 and throbbed in his temples. 
 
 "Yes. It puzzle' me a little." 
 
 He turned the paper over and over in his fingers, 
 once again struggling to think. .,. .She sat motionless, 
 gazing at the dahlias. 
 
 Blindly then he groped for her hands ; found them 
 and impulsively gripped them. 
 
 "Hui" he whispered huskily ("tell me if it's 
 like this if you if he. .,. .All this time I've supposed 
 you and he were .... I want you to come with me to 
 America. We both do love it there. I'll give up my 
 life to making you happy. I'll slave for you. I'll 
 make of my life what you say. Just let us try it 
 together . . . . " 
 
 She silently heard him out through this and much 
 more, leaving her hands quietly in his. Finally then, 
 when the emotional gust seemed in some measure to 
 have spent itself, she said, gently: 
 
 "Rocky, I wan' you to listen to what I'm going to 
 tell you. You said I make you feel young. Well
 
 332 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 can' you see why? Can' you see that I'm quite an ol* 
 lady?" 
 
 "But that's nonsense! You " His eyes were 
 feasting on her soft skin and on the exquisite curve of 
 her cheek. 
 
 "No you mus' listen ! First tell me how old you 
 are." 
 
 Unexpectedly on the defensive, Rocky had to com- 
 pose himself, arrange his dignity, before he could 
 reply. "I was twenty-one in the summer." 
 
 "Ver' good. An' I was twenty-five in the spring." 
 
 "But" 
 
 "Please ! I don' know what you coul' have thought 
 how young you thought I was when I wen' to col- 
 lege. But tha's the way it is. I'm an ol' lady. I have 
 learn' to like you ver' much. I'm fond of you. I wan' 
 to feel always tha' we're frien's. But we coul'n' be 
 happy together. Our interes' aren' the same they 
 coul'n' be. Can' you see, Rocky? If there is some- 
 thing abou' me tha' stirs you that is ver' won'erful. 
 But we mus'n' let it hurt you. An' that isn' the same 
 as marriage. Marriage is differen' there mus' be so 
 much in common if a man an' woman are to live 
 together an' work together, they mus' think an' hope 
 an'...." 
 
 Her voice died out. She was gazing again, mourn- 
 fully at the dahlias. When he released her hands they 
 lay limp in her lap. 
 
 With a great effort of will be wished her every 
 happiness, promised to write, and got himself away.
 
 THE WORLD OF FACT 333 
 
 4 
 
 This was on Thursday. Rocky walked at a feverish 
 pace from the native city to the European settlement 
 that was so quaintly not Chinese more, with its 
 Western-style buildings that were decorated with orna- 
 mental iron balconies and richly colored Chinese signs, 
 like a "China-town" in an American city and wan- 
 dered for a time along Nanking Road ; then out to Bub- 
 bling Well Road ; away out, past the Country Club to 
 the almost absurdly suburban quarter with its comfort- 
 ably British villas; seeing, however, little of the busy 
 life that moved about him, threading his way over 
 cross-streets without a conscious glance at the motor- 
 cars and pony-drawn victorias (with turbanned mafoos 
 cracking their whips) and bicycles and the creaking 
 passenger wheelbarrows on which fat native women 
 with tiny stumps of feet rode precariously. For those 
 few hours were to be recalled in later years as the 
 quietly darkest in the young man's life. There was no 
 question now of dissipation ; he knew with the decisive- 
 ness of the Kanes that he had turned definitely away 
 from the morbid oblivion of alcohol and opium, as 
 from the unhealthy if exciting diversion of loveless 
 women. But the bitterness would not down all at 
 once. Indeed it was savagely powerful, still, to cloud 
 his reason. The only evidence of victory over self of 
 which he was aware was the fact that he could now look 
 almost objectively at himself, and could fight. 
 
 He was back at the hotel between seven and eight,
 
 334 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 but couldn't eat. For an hour he walked his room, 
 locked in. Then, in sheer loneliness, a little afraid of 
 himself, he went down to the spacious lounge and sat 
 in a corner, behind a palm, staring at a copy of the 
 China Press and listening, all overstrung nerves, to 
 the cackle and laughter of the self-centered tourists 
 and the curiously bold and loud commercial men from 
 across the Pacific. He heard this, in his younger way, 
 as Doane would have heard it, even as Hui; it was 
 all heedless, light-brained; careless. . . .Confused with 
 the bitterness (in a bewildering degree) was a sense 
 of the finely reflective atmosphere that had lately envel- 
 oped him and that he was not to lose easily. He felt 
 sitting, all nerves, in this babel the fine old Chinese 
 gentleman who had gone serenely to the death that 
 was his destiny. He felt constantly, intensely the 
 princess who had brought to her American college an 
 instinct for culture the like of which neither he nor any 
 of his friends at home had brought or found there. 
 And he felt Mr. Doane felt a spaciousness of mind in 
 the man, a patience, a tolerance felt him as a gentle- 
 man felt him while still, in his heart, he was bitterly 
 fighting him .... The thing had closed over his head 
 the sheer quality of these remarkable folk. He was 
 simply out of a cruder world. He hadn't the right to 
 stand with them the simple right of character and 
 breeding. And no amount of determination, no 
 amount of storming at it could alter the fact. It would 
 take years of patient work. Even then he might miss 
 it; for his environment soon again would be that of
 
 THE WORLD OF FACT 335 
 
 the cackling tourists he now hated. Even at college it 
 would be all the dominant athletics, the parties and 
 the motors and girls and drinking, the association with 
 those sons of prosperous families who were all con- 
 sciously cementing alliances with the financial upper 
 class that quietly ruled America while hired politicians 
 prated and performed without in the smallest measure 
 controlling or even altering the blatant facts .... He 
 and his kind, at college, despised the "grind." And 
 you had to be a grind if you weren't the other thing. 
 Yet Hui Fei had managed it differently. She was 
 neither and both. It seemed to be a difference of 
 mental texture .... 
 
 A slim girl, richly dressed, with a sable wrap about 
 her shoulders and a pretty little hat, was threading 
 her way among the crowding chairs and tables and the 
 talkative groups in the lounge. He glanced up; then 
 looked closely. It was Dixie Carmichael. She stood 
 before him, wearing her icy, faintly mocking smile. 
 He rose. 
 
 "How are you ?" said she. 
 
 He could only incline his head with a sort of cour- 
 tesy, and contrive an artificial smile. He seemed to 
 have been dreaming, outrageously. Life had begun 
 now. 
 
 "I'm running down to Singapore," said she. 
 "Friends there. And a look-see ?" 
 
 "Oh," he murmured, "indeed." She looked out- 
 and-out rich ; and she was surprisingly pretty, without 
 a sign that she had ever known danger or eyen care.
 
 336 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "Staying here?" she asked. 
 
 "No. I start back home Saturday." 
 
 "So? Well, that'll be pleasant." With a final 
 
 glance of what seemed almost like triumph she sailed 
 away. And he knew that in taking the pearls he had 
 not taken all from her. Apparently, too, she meant 
 him to know it. That would be her moment of 
 triumph. And that was all; not a word was spoken 
 regarding his violence or her threats. . . .He saw the 
 yellow porters carrying out her luggage of bright new 
 leather. 
 
 He resumed his seat; twitched for a time with 
 increasing nervousness; got up and went aimlessly 
 over to the desk; asked the Malay clerk for mail. 
 
 A smiling little Japanese appeared, rather officious 
 about a great lot of bags and a trunk or two that were 
 coming in. He had a familiar look; even raised his 
 hat and stepped forward with outstretched hand. It 
 
 was Kato And then Dawley Kane came in tall, 
 
 quiet, neatly dressed, his nearly white mustache newly 
 cropped. 
 
 To his pale son Dawley Kane said merely 
 "Well!" as he took his hand; and then was busy 
 registering. That done, he asked: "Had dinner?" 
 
 Rocky shook his head. "I don't care for any." 
 
 Dawley Kane's quietly keen eyes surveyed his son. 
 "What's the matter? Not well." 
 
 "I'm well enough." 
 
 "Sit down with me, can't you?" And turning to 
 the attending Japanese he said: "You'll excuse me,
 
 THE WORLD OF FACT 337 
 
 x 
 
 Kato. I'll be dining with my son. And tell Mr. 
 Braker, please .... Just a minute, Rocky, till I wash 
 my hands." 
 
 They were shown to a table in the great dining- 
 room, where the cackling was louder than in the lounge 
 (they dine late on the coast) where blue-gowned 
 waiters moved softly about as if there had never been 
 a revolution and wine glasses glistened and prettily 
 bared shoulders gleamed roundly under the electric 
 lights. 
 
 And Rocky, seated gloomily opposite this powerful 
 quiet man who took him unerringly in of course ; dis- 
 hearteningly, Rocky felt found himself in a depres- 
 sion deeper than any he had known before. His 
 father was so strong and he brought back with him 
 the enveloping atmosphere of the mighty, splendidly 
 successful white world in which they both belonged 
 a world that crushed the heart out of weaker peoples 
 while it blandly talked the moralities. He felt it as a 
 Juggernaut. It had the amazingly successful racial 
 blend of character and plausibility. That would be the 
 British quality; and, more roughly and confusedly, the 
 American. 
 
 "Getting rather interesting up the river," remarked 
 Dawley Kane, over his soup. "How'd you get down ?" 
 
 "On a junk." 
 
 "Any trouble?" 
 
 "Oh some." 
 
 "Been here long?" 
 
 "Several days. I'm sailing Saturday."
 
 338 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "Sailing?" Mr. Kane raised his eyebrows. 
 "Where?" 
 
 "Home." 
 
 "You decided not to consult me ?" 
 
 "Oh Don't ride me, father! It's the next thing. 
 
 I'm going back to college." 
 
 "Oh I see." Mr. Kane looked over the menu, 
 ordered his roast, and selected a red wine, cautioning 
 the waiter to set it near the stove for five minutes. 
 "It's wicked to heat Burgundy," he said, when the 
 waiter had gone, "but it's the only way you can get it 
 served at the right temperature. I discovered that 
 when we were here before .... I gather, my boy, that 
 you've come to your senses in the matter of that little 
 yellow girl." 
 
 Rocky did not wince outwardly; he merely sat still. 
 But his mind, at last, was active. And he knew saw 
 it in a flash that no explanation he could possibly 
 make would be intelligible. You can not yet talk 
 across the gulf between the worlds. It was his first 
 intelligent glimpse of the tremendous fact that Doane 
 had so long and so clearly felt and seen. So he merely 
 at last, when his father looked closely at him 
 inclined his head and said, huskily : 
 
 "I'm going to work out this college business. 
 That's my job clear enough." 
 
 This new attitude was to bring, later in the even- 
 ing, confidences from the father. 
 
 "It's been an interesting journey for me, Rocky." 
 Thoughtfully Dawley Kane smoked his Manila cigar.
 
 THE WORLD OF FACT 339 
 
 "It's enabled me to understand somewhat the delicate 
 international situation out here. I couldn't see why our 
 agents weren't accomplishing more. The trouble is, 
 of course, that every square foot of China is staked out 
 by the European nations. If you don't believe that, 
 just get a concession from the Chinese Government 
 for a big job water power development, mining, rail- 
 way building, or an industrial monopoly that part of 
 it isn't so hard and then try to carry it through. 
 You'd find out fast enough who are the real owners of 
 China. And those owners would never let you start. 
 Great Britain controls this great empire of the Yangtze 
 Valley as completely as she controls India. France 
 owns the south Russia the northwest and the north 
 Japan, from Korea and Lower Manchuria is penetrat- 
 ing the northwest, too; they're bound, the Japanese, 
 k> tip Russia out one of these days, and they're very 
 clever and patient about slipping into the British 
 regions. They've got the Germans to contend with, 
 too, in the Kio-chow region. But someday either in 
 the event of the final break-up of China or in the event 
 of the European nations coming to an out-and-out 
 squabble (which is almost a certainty, at that) Japan 
 will be found to have pulled off most of the big prizes 
 for herself. We'll have to fight Japan someday, I 
 suppose over the control of the Pacific but in the 
 meantime, those little people are the best bet. They 
 know the East as the rest of us don't, they're clever, 
 and their diplomats aren't hampered by the sort of 
 half-enlightened public opinion that's always tripping
 
 340 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 us up in the West sentimental idealism, that sort of 
 thing and they control their press infinitely better 
 than we do. They've got everything, the Japanese, 
 except money. And we've got the money. It'll be just 
 a question of security, that's all; and watching them 
 pretty closely. I've made up my mind to play it that 
 way.... A survey of the actual conditions out here 
 makes our American diplomacy look pretty naive. We 
 talk idealism open door and all while all the rest 
 of them are moving in and setting up shop and getting 
 the money." 
 
 Later, in Dawley Kane's spacious suite overlooking 
 the park-like street where the colored lanterns of the 
 rickshaws glowed pleasantly under the trees, the father 
 said, laying a hand affectionately on the boy's 
 shoulder : 
 
 "I can't tell you how happy you've made me, 
 Rocky. It looks as if you'd turned your corner. Just 
 don't go in for too much thinking about what you've 
 been through. There's nothing in remorse. As a matter 
 of fact, a little rough experience is a good thing for a 
 boy. After you get your balance you'll be all the 
 closer to life for it .... Go ahead with your college 
 plans, get your degree, and then after a year or two 
 in the New York office I'll bring you out here. We 
 shall be playing for big stakes. And we shall need 
 good men. .. .That's the whole problem, really the 
 men. I had my eyes on this man Doane, but he turned 
 out to be only a sentimentalist after all." 
 
 It was the hopelessness of it that drove Rocky out
 
 THE WORLD OF FACT 341 
 
 after a respectful good night and over to the revol- 
 utionary headquarters. He knew that Mr. Doane 
 worked most of the night, and took what sleep he got 
 on a cot there.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 IN A COURTYARD 
 
 TLJE sent in his name, and waited for an hour in an 
 outer office. For even at this late hour in the 
 evening headquarters was a busy place. Chinese 
 gentlemen crowded in and out, dressed, to a man, in 
 the frock coats and the flapping black trousers they 
 didn't know how to wear. High officers slipped 
 quietly in and out in khaki, with the white brassard 
 of the Revolution on their left arms; sometimes with 
 merely a handkerchief tied there. Orderlies and mes- 
 sengers came and went. And clerks of untiring 
 patience sat at desks. 
 
 It was a difficult hour. Rocky had only his con- 
 fused emotions to guide him, and his hurt heart. 
 There were moments, even, when he didn't know why 
 he had come. But he never thought of giving up. 
 Whatever their curious relations, he had to see Mr, 
 Doane, who was now the only stable figure in the 
 rocking world about him. The man had been fine 
 square. That he knew now. And his nervous young 
 imagination was veering toward hero-worship. He 
 was utterly humble. 
 
 342
 
 IN A COURTYARD 343 
 
 Naturally he was boyish about it, when they finally 
 led him into that inner office. He said 5 flushing a 
 little: 
 
 "I know you're busy, Mr. Doane " 
 
 "Not too busy for you. I kept you waiting to 
 clear up a lot of things." The man's great size and 
 calmness of manner the question rose; had he ever 
 in his life known weariness? were comforting. 
 
 "I'm sailing Saturday." 
 
 This, for a brief moment, brought the kindly 
 though strong and sober face to immobility. 
 
 "You see, sir, I've come to feel that the best thing 
 for me is to go back and start clean." 
 
 A slight mist came over Doane's eyes. What a 
 struggle the boy had had of it! And how splendidly 
 he was working through ! . . . . Thought came about the 
 children of the rich in America . . . the problem of it ... 
 
 "I couldn't go without seeing you. You see, sir, 
 it's you, I guess, that've put me on my feet. I sort 
 of well, I want you to know that I am on them. It's 
 been a strange experience, all round. A terrible exper- 
 ience, of course. It shakes you...." 
 
 "It has shaken me, too," Doane observed simply. 
 
 "I know. That is, I see all that more clearly now. 
 I was going to speak of it it's one of the things. ..,, 
 but first. . . .Mr. Doane, will you write to me? Once 
 in a while ? I mean, will you could you find time to 
 answer if I write to you? You see, it isn't going to 
 be easy, over there. I've got to go clean outside my 
 own crowd. And outside my family. They won't one
 
 344 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 of them understand what I'm up to. Not one. And 
 when you come right down to it, I suppose it's a 
 question whether the thing licks me or not. But" 
 his shoulders squared; he looked directly into that 
 kind, deeply shadowed face "I don't believe it will 
 lick me!" 
 
 "No," said Doane, "it won't lick you." 
 
 "I shall never be able to shake China off now. 
 It's got me. And I don't know a thing about it yet. 
 Of course I shall be reading and studying it up." 
 
 "I'll send you a book once in a while." 
 
 "And I know I'm coming back out here someday. 
 But it won't be as my father wants me to come. You 
 see, I'll have money." 
 
 "A great responsibility, Rocky." 
 
 "I know. I'm beginning to see that. But I 
 know all this must sound pretty young to you! but 
 I'm afraid I shall be leaning on you sometimes " 
 
 "Write to me at those times." 
 
 "All right. I will." 
 
 "There is an amazing health in the American 
 people." 
 
 "Yes that's so, of course." 
 
 "It's a curiously blundering people, of course. And 
 there's a hard, really a Teutonic strain that blend of 
 practical hard-headedness, even of cruelty, with sen- 
 timentality " 
 
 Rocky's brows came together. Mr. Doane and his 
 father plainly didn't use that word "sentimental" in 
 the same sense.
 
 IN A COURTYARD 345 
 
 " it comes down to a strain of well, something 
 between the old Anglo-Saxonism and the modem 
 Prussianism. It's in us in our driving business tac- 
 tics, our narrow moral intolerance, our insistence on 
 standardizing vulgar ideas forcing every individual 
 into a mold in our extraordinary glorification of the 
 salesman. We seem to have a good deal both of the 
 British complacency and the rough aggressiveness of 
 the German. But the health is there wonderfully. 
 What America needs is beauty not the self-conscious 
 swarming after it of earnest and misguided suburban 
 ladies^ but a quiet sense of the thing itself. Beauty 
 and simplicity and patience and tolerance and 
 faith. Prosperity has for the moment wrecked faith 
 there. Simply too much money. But you'll find 
 health growing up everywhere. Just let yourself grow 
 with it. You've been deeply impressed by China. But 
 if I were you, I'd let all that take care of itself. Never 
 mind what you may come to feel next year or ten 
 years from now. It may be mainly China or mainly 
 America. Just work, and let yourself grow." 
 
 At the door they clasped hands warmly. And 
 then, finally, Rocky got to the point: 
 
 "Mr. Doane this is what I wanted to say I saw 
 Hui Fei this afternoon, and " 
 
 Doane was silent ; but still gripped his hand. 
 
 " and we talked things all out. She knows I'm 
 knows I'm going back. And this is it .... You 
 don't mind my. ... .1 think you ought to find time to 
 go over there and see her. She seems puzzled about
 
 346 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 I don't know quite how to say all this. You know 
 how I've felt feel. ... .Of course, the thing 1 is to look 
 the facts in the face. I hope I'm man enough to do 
 that." His voice was unsteady now. "I'm not the 
 one. I never was. She was dear about it, to-day, but 
 ,....! think you ought to see her. Oh, I'm sure it 
 isn't just her father's will. ..." 
 
 Rocky found himself, without the slightest sense 
 of ungentleness on the part of Mr. Doane, through the 
 door and confusedly saying his good-by before the 
 patient clerks and the waiting crowd in the anteroom. 
 He walked back to the hotel with a warm glow of 
 admiration and friendship in his heart. There would 
 be he knew, even then sad hours, probably bitter 
 hours, in the long struggle to come. But this talk 
 was going to help. 
 
 2 
 
 On Doane the boy's announcement had an almost 
 crushing effect. His spirit was not adjusted to hap- 
 piness. The terrific strain of the work was a bless- 
 ing. He framed, that night and during the following 
 day, innumerable little chits to Hui Fei pretexts, all, 
 for a visit that needed no pretext. And the day 
 passed. Self-consciousness was upon him; and a con- 
 stant mental difficulty in making the situation cred- 
 ible. And there was the pressure of time ; an awareness 
 that to Hui Fei perhaps even to the Witherys his 
 silence would soon demand a stronger explanation 
 than the mere pressure of business. He had to keeg
 
 IN A COURTYARD 347 
 
 reminding himself that the girl was helpless, that he 
 himself was the only guardian whose authority she 
 could recognize; his reason whispering from moment 
 to moment that she would not touch the money he had 
 so promptly put at her disposal. No, she would wait. 
 
 It was his old friend Henry Withery who brought 
 him to it; appearing late on the Saturday afternoon, 
 determined to drag him off for dinner. .. .Withery, 
 looking every one of his forty-eight years, patient 
 resignation in the dusty blue eyes, and a fine net of 
 wrinkles about them. His slight limp was the only 
 reminder of tortures inflicted by the Boxers in 1900, 
 out in Kansuh. He had taken over the T'ainan-fu 
 mission for a year after Doane left the church in 
 1907; and during two years now had been here in 
 Shanghai. 
 
 "There's no good killing yourself here, Grig," he 
 said. "We've not had ten minutes with you yet, 
 remember. And we must talk over that girl's affairs. 
 She's very sweet about it, but it's plain that she's wait- 
 ing on you." 
 
 His tone was genial ; quite the tone of their earlier 
 friendship, with nothing left of the constraint that 
 had come into their relationship during Doane's diffi- 
 cult years on the river the years that couldn't be 
 explained, even to old friends .... And Withery 
 knew nothing of the curious personal problem of his 
 and Hui Fei's lives. His manner made that clear. . . . 
 It remained to be seen whether Mrs. Withery knew. 
 ,. ...Doane, it will be noted, was still struggling, as
 
 348 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 of settled habit, with the thought of freeing the girl 
 from the obligation laid upon her. 
 
 But Mrs. Withery didn't know, didn't dream. She 
 was quite her whole-souled self. He might have been 
 Hui Fei's father, from anything in her manner. He 
 felt a conspirator. 
 
 Her father's tragic end accounted altogether for 
 the girl's silence. She met him naturally, though, with 
 a frank grip of the hand. 
 
 It was a pleasant enough family dinner. They 
 talked the revolution, of course. No one in Shanghai 
 at the beginning of that November talked anything 
 else. Hui Fei quietly listened ; her face very sober 
 in repose. She seemed she had always seemed 
 more delicately feminine in Western costume. She 
 was more slender now; her face a perfect oval under 
 the smooth, deep-shadowed hair. Her dark eyes, deep 
 with stoically controlled feeling, rested on this or that 
 speaker. Doane found them once or twice resting 
 thoughtfully on himself. 
 
 After dinner Mrs. Withery, with a glance at her 
 husband, laid a sympathetic hand on Hui's shoulder. 
 
 "My dear," she said, all friendly sympathy, "Mr. 
 Doane's time is precious, these days and nights. I 
 know that you should take this opportunity to talk 
 over your problems with him. I shall be bustling 
 about here suppose you take him out into the 
 courtyard." 
 
 Without a word they walked out there; stood by a 
 gnarled tree whose twisted limbs extended over the
 
 IN A COURTYARD 349 
 
 low tiled roofs. There was a little light from the 
 windows. The long" silence that followed was the 
 most difficult moment yet. Doane found himself 
 breathing rather hard. In Hui Fei he felt the calm 
 Oriental patience that underlay all her Western expe- 
 riences. She simply waited for him to speak. 
 
 He looked down at her, quite holding his breath. 
 She seemed almost frail out here, in the half light. He 
 was fighting, with all his strength and experience, 
 the warm sweet feelings that drugged his brain. 
 
 "My dear " he began; then, when she looked 
 frankly up at him, hesitated. He hadn't known he was 
 going to begin with any such phrase as that. He got 
 on with it. . . ."I'm wondering how I can best help 
 you. If I were a younger man there would be no 
 question as to what I would have to say to you." 
 Utterly clumsy, of course ; with little light ahead ; just 
 a dogged determination to serve her without hurting 
 her. 
 
 "I think a good 'eal of wha' they tell me you're 
 doing" thus Hui Fei, in a low but clear voice; not 
 looking up now. "I've almos' envied you. Helping li' 
 that." 
 
 "It must be hard for you witli all your mental 
 interests to sit quietly here." 
 
 "My min' goes on, of course," she said. "Yes, it 
 isn' ver' easy." 
 
 This was getting them nowhere. Doane, after a 
 deep breath, took command of the situation. Sooner 
 or later he would have to do that.
 
 350 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "Hui, dear," he said now very quietly, but 
 directly, "this is a difficult situation for both of us. 
 The only thing, of course, is to meet it as frankly as 
 we can. I learned to love your father " 
 
 She glanced up at this; her eyes glistened as the 
 light caught them. 
 
 " but we can not blindly follow his wishes. He 
 had seen and felt the West, but he died a Manchu." 
 
 Her soft lips framed the one word, "Yes." The 
 softness of her whole face, indeed, was disconcerting; 
 it was all sober emotion, that she plainly didn't think 
 of trying to hide. 
 
 "And I'm sure you'll understand me when I tell 
 you that I can not accept his legacy." 
 
 She startled him now with the low but direct ques- 
 tion: "Why not?" 
 
 "My dear. .,. ." He found difficulty in going on. 
 
 "I don' know what I ought 'o say." He barely 
 heard this; stopped a little. "I don' know wha' to do." 
 
 "Can't you, dear isn't there some clear vision in 
 your heart don't you see your way ahead ? Remem- 
 ber, you will always have me to help if I can help. 
 It will mean everything to me to be your dearest 
 friend." 
 
 "I want 'o work with you," she murmured. 
 "I haren't dared believe that possible," he said 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 "Do you wan' me to ?"
 
 IN A COURTYARD 351 
 
 "Yes. But it has to be clearer than that." He 
 was stupid again; he sensed it himself. "There is 
 so much of life ahead of you. It's got to be clear 
 that wherever your heart may lead you, child that 
 you shall have my steady friendship. The rest of it 
 can grow as it may." 
 
 "I wan'. . . ." He couldn't make out the words; 
 he bent down close to her lovely face. "I want 'o 
 marry you." 
 
 They both stood breathless then. Timidly her hand 
 crept into his and nestled there. 
 
 "Tha's the trouble" her voice was a very little 
 stronger "there isn' anything else. It's ever'thing 
 you think an' do ever'thing you believe. We're both 
 between the worl's, so . . . . " 
 
 The noise in his brain was like the pealing of cathe- 
 dral bells at Christmas time. Yet in this rush of 
 ecstatic feeling he suddenly saw clearly. The fabric of 
 their companionship had hardly begun weaving. All 
 his experience, his delicacy, his fine human skill, must 
 be employed here. Ahead lay happiness ! It was still 
 nearly incredible. . . .And there lay extending before 
 them in a long vista their intense common interest. 
 The thing was to make a fine success of it. Build 
 through the years. 
 
 And happiness was greatly important. He had so 
 nearly missed it. ... Looking up through the branches 
 of the old tree, he smiled. 
 
 Then he kd her into the house.
 
 352 IN RED AND GOLD 
 
 "Have you had your talk already?" asked Mrs. 
 Withery pleasantly. 
 
 "We've settled everything," said Doane. "We're 
 going- to be married." 
 
 "Ver* soon," said Hui Fei. 
 
 THE END
 
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 Christine of the Young Heart. By Louise Brelntenbacfi Clancy. 
 
 Cinderella Jane. By Marjorie B. Cooke. 
 
 Cinema Murder, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 
 City of Masks, The. By George Barr McCutcheon. 
 
 Cleek of Scotland Yard. By T. W. Hanshew.
 
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 Cleek, The Man of Forty Faces. By Thomas W. Hanshew. 
 
 deck's Government Cases. By Thomas W. Hanshew. 
 
 Clipped Wings. By Rupert Hughes. 
 
 Clutch of Circumstance, The. By Marjorie Benton Cooke. 
 
 Coast of Adventure, The. By Harold Bindloss. 
 
 Come-Back, The. By Carolyn Wells. 
 
 Coming of Cassidy, The. By Clarence E. Mulford. 
 
 Coming of the Law, The. By Charles A. Seltzer. 
 
 Comrades of Peril. By Randall Parrish. 
 
 Conquest of Canaan, The. By Booth Tarkington. 
 
 Conspirators, The. By Robert W. Chambers. 
 
 Contraband. By Randall Parrish. 
 
 Cottage of Delight, The. By Will N. Harben. 
 
 Court of Inquiry, A. By Grace S. Richmond, 
 
 Cricket, The. By Marjorie Benton Cooke. 
 
 Crimson Gardenia, The, and Other Tales of Adventure. By 
 
 Rex Beach. 
 
 Crimson Tide, The. By Robert W. Chambers. 
 Cross Currents. By Author of "Pollyanna." 
 Cross Pull, The. By Hal. G. Evarts. 
 Cry in the Wilderness, A. By Mary E. Waller. 
 Cry of Youth, A. By Cynthia Lombardi. 
 Cup of Fury, The. By Rupeit Hughes. 
 Curious Quest, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 
 Danger and Other Stories 1 . By A. Conan Doyle. 
 Dark Hollow, The. By Anna Katharine Green. 
 Dark Star, The. By Robert W. Chambers. 
 Daughter Pays, The. By Mrs. Baillie Reynolds. 
 Day of Days, The. By Louis Joseph Vance. 
 Depot Master, The, By Joseph C. Lincoln. 
 Destroying Angel, The. By Louis Joseph Vance. 
 Devil's Own, The. By Randall Parrish. 
 Devil's Paw, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 Disturbing Charm, The. By Berta Ruck. 
 Door of Dread, The. By Arthur Stringer. 
 Dope. By Sax Rohmer. 
 
 Double Traitor, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 Duds. By Henry C. Rowland.
 
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 Empty Pockets. By Rupert Hughes. 
 Erskine Dale Pioneer. By John Fox, Jr. 
 Everyman's Land. By C. N. & A. M. Williamson. 
 Extricating Obadiah. By Joseph C. Lincoln. 
 Eyes of the Blind, The. By Arthur Somers Roche. 
 Eyes of the World, The. By Harold Bell Wright. 
 
 Fairfax and His Pride. By Marie Van Vorst. 
 
 Felix O'Day. By F. Hopkinson Smith. 
 
 54-40 or Fight By Emerson Hough. 
 
 Fighting Chance, The. By Robert W. Chambers. 
 
 Fighting Fool, The. By Daae Coolidge. 
 
 Fighting Shepherdess, The. By Caroline Lockhart. 
 
 Financier, The. By Theodore Dreiser. 
 
 Find the Woman. By Arthur Somers Roche. 
 
 First Sir Percy, The. By The Baroness Orczy, 
 
 Flame, The. By Olive Wadsley. 
 
 For Better, for Worse. By W. B. Maxwell. 
 
 Forbidden Trail, The. By Honore Willsie. 
 
 Forfeit, The. By Ridgwell Cullum. 
 
 Fortieth Door, The. By Mary Hastings Bradley. 
 
 Four Million, The. By O. Henry. 
 
 From Now On. By Frank L. Packard. 
 
 Fur Bringers, The. By Hulbert Footner. 
 
 Further Adventures of Jimmie Dale. By Frank L. Packard. 
 
 Gef Your Man. By Ethel and James Dorrance. 
 
 Girl in the Mirror, The. By Elizabeth Jordan. 
 
 Girl of O. K. Valley, The. By Robert Watson. 
 
 Girl of the Blue Ridge, A. By Payne Erskine. 
 
 Girl from Keller's, The. By Harold Bindloss. 
 
 Girl Philippa, The. By Robert W. Chambers. 
 
 Girls at His Billet, The. By Berta Ruck. 
 
 Glory Rides the Range. By Ethel and James Borrance. 
 
 Gloved Hand, The. By Burton E. Stevenson. 
 
 God's Country and the Woman. By James Oliver Corwood. 
 
 God's Good Man. By Marie Corelli. 
 
 Going Some. By Rex Beach. 
 
 Gold Girl, The. By James B. Hen'dryx. 
 
 Golden Scorpion, The. By Sax Rohmer.
 
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 Golden Slipper, The. By Anna Katharine Green. 
 
 Golden Woman, The. By Ridgwell Cullum. 
 
 Good References. By E. J. Rath. 
 
 Gorgeous Girl, The. By Nalbro Bartley. 
 
 Gray Angels, The. By Nalbro Bartley. 
 
 Great Impersonation, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 
 Greater Love Hath No Man. By Frank L. Packard. 
 
 Green Eyes of Bast, The. By Sax Rohmer. 
 
 Greyfriars Bobby. By Eleanor Atkinson. 
 
 Gun Brand, The. By James B. Hendryx. 
 
 Hand of Fu-Manchu, The. By Sax Rohmer. 
 
 Happy House. By Baroness Von Hutten. 
 
 Harbor Road, The. By Sara Ware Bassett. 
 
 Havoc. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 
 Heart of the Desert, The, By Honore Willsie. 
 
 Heart of the Hills, The. By John Fox, Jr. 
 
 Heart of the Sunset. By Rex Beach. 
 
 Heart of Thunder Mountain, The. By Edfrid A. Bingham. 
 
 Heart of Unaga, The. By Ridgwell Cullum. 
 
 Hidden Children, The. By Robert W. Chambers. 
 
 Hidden Trails. By William Patterson White. 
 
 Highflyers, The. By Clarence B. Kelland. 
 
 Hillman, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 
 Hills of Refuge, The. By Will N. Harben. 
 
 His Last Bow. By A. Conan Doyle. 
 
 His Official Fiancee. By Berta Ruck. 
 
 Honor of the Big Snows. By James Oliver Curwood. 
 
 Hopalong Cassidy. By Clarence E. Mulford. 
 
 Hound from the North, The. By Ridgwell Cullum. 
 
 House of the Whispering Pines, The. By Anna Katharine 
 
 Green. 
 
 Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker. By S. Weir Mitchell, M.D. 
 Humoresque. By Fannie Hurst. 
 
 I Conquered. By Harold Titus. 
 Illustrious Prince, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 In Another Girl's Shoes. By Berta Ruck. 
 Indifference of Juliet, The. By Grace S. Richmond. 
 Inez. (lit Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans.
 
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 Infelice. By Augusta Evans Wilson. 
 
 Initials Only. By Anna Katharine Green. 
 
 Inner Law, The. By Will N. Harben. 
 
 Innocent. By Marie Corelli. 
 
 In Red and Gold. By Samuel Merwin. 
 
 Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu, The. By Sax Rohmer. 
 
 In the Brooding Wild. By Ridgwell Cullura. 
 
 Intriguers, The. By William Le Queux. 
 
 Iron Furrow, The. By George C. Shedd. 
 
 Iron Trail, The. By Rex Beach. 
 
 Iron Woman, The. By Margaret Defland. 
 
 IshmaeL (111.) By Mrs. South worth. 
 
 Island of Surprise. By Cyrus Townsend Brady. 
 
 I Spy. By Natalie Sumner Linclon. 
 
 It Pays to Smile. By Nina Wilcox Putnam. 
 
 I've Married Marjorie. By Margaret Widdemer. 
 
 can of the Lazy A. By B. M. Bower. 
 
 eanne of the Marshes. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 
 ennie Gerhardt. By Theodore Dreiser. 
 
 ohnny Nelson. By Clarence E. Mulford. 
 
 udgment House, The. By Gilbert Parker. 
 
 Keeper of the Door, The. By Ethel M. DelL 
 
 Keith of the Border. By Randall Parrish. 
 
 Kent Knowles: Quahaug. By Joseph C. Lincoln. 
 
 Kingdom of the Blind, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 
 King Spruce. By Holman Day. 
 
 Knave of Diamonds, The. By Ethel M. Dell. 
 
 La Chance Mine Mystery, The, By S. Carleton. 
 Lady Doc, The. By Caroline L"ockhart. 
 .Land-Girl's Love Story, A. By Berta Ruck. 
 Land of Strong Men, The. By A. M. Chisholra. 
 Las? Straw, The. By Harold Titus. 
 Last Trail, The. By Zane Grey. 
 Laughing BiH Hyde. By Rex Beach. 
 Laughing Girl, The. By Robert W. Chambers*. 
 Law Breakers, The, By Rtdgwell Cullum. 
 Law of the Gun, The. By Rjdgwell Cullum.
 
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