The Mandarin's Fan. Hume Fergus

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The Mandarin's Fan - Hume Fergus


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young gentleman became its owner. However, there was little use speculating on this. Miss Wharf had the fan, and probably she would keep it, unless the large sum of money offered by Tung-yu tempted her to do business. Ainsleigh wondered also, if the old maid had read the papers, and if she had seen the advertisement.

      "But what does it matter to me," said Rupert, as he turned up the avenue. "I won't get the money, and Miss Wharf will see me hanged first before she will let me make such a sum. While I am poor, she holds me in her clutches, and thinks by means of that mortgage to prevent my marriage with Olivia. What would she say if she knew that we were already married. I was wrong to consent to keep the affair secret, even though Olivia wished it. In any case Miss Wharf can do nothing, till the end of the year, and the truth is bound to come to her ears sooner or later. Then she will strike and spare not. I believe that's the motto of the Wharfs, and it fits her spiteful temper excellently."

      Then Rupert went on to reflect on what Olivia had told him of Aunt Sophia's romance with Markham Ainsleigh. The young man had never heard of it before, as he knew little of his father, who had gone to China, a few years after his heir was born. In fact Markham only waited till there was a male Ainsleigh to carry on the succession and to inherit what remained of the estates, and then steamed to the Far East to seek fortune. But fortune had proved unkind and the poor man had died – whether of dysentery or by violence, it is difficult to say. Some people said one thing and some another, but even Rupert did not know the truth. Dr. Forge, who had worked the mine in the Kan-su province along with Markham, knew the absolute truth, and he ascribed the death to dysentery, so Rupert, for the time being at all events, was willing to accept this explanation. He had no reason to doubt the loyalty of Theophilus Forge who had been a college chum of his father's.

      Thinking in this way and considering whether it would not be advisable to proclaim his marriage so as to release his wife from the odious attentions of Clarence Burgh, the young man arrived at the house. He was met in the hall by Mrs Petley, who announced that Major Tidman was waiting to see her young master. Rupert nodded in an absent-minded way and was going to the library where the Major was kicking his heels, when Mrs Petley caught him by the arm. "It's walking again," said Mrs Petley, whose fat face was pale, "and say what you like Master Rupert, trouble is coming."

      She was a stout old dame with a red face suggestive of drink, a most unfair thing to be said of her as she drank nothing stronger than gin and water, one tumbler a night before retiring. But Mrs Petley had been a cook in her early days; later on she assumed the position of Rupert's nurse, and finally, having married Petley the butler, she became housekeeper of Royabay. She was a common vulgar old woman, but loyal to the core, and adored Rupert. When he had to dismiss the greater part of his servants he retained John Petley, and John Petley's wife, who continued to serve him faithfully and always hoped for better days. Mrs Petley, being intensely superstitious, was always influenced by the appearance of Abbot Raoul whose walking was supposed to predict bad luck to the Ainsleighs. If the ghost did not appear Mrs Petley was happy, but when it did she always prognosticated evil. And it must be admitted that Rupert usually had more trouble with his creditors when Abbot Raoul did visit his old haunts. He seemed to be a most malignant spirit. But Rupert as an educated man, was not going to admit occult influence.

      "Nonsense Mrs. Petley," said he, shaking her off, "so far as trouble is concerned, Abbot Raoul might remain visible for ever. Am I ever out of trouble?"

      "No, that you ain't, worse luck. But this walking means something extra special as I said to John."

      "Where did you see the old beast, I mean Abbot Raoul of course."

      Mrs. Petley started. "Hush deary," she whispered looking round in a fearful manner, "don't speak evil of speerits. It may be round, and you might anger it. I saw it in the cloisters."

      "Near the place?" asked Rupert.

      "Aye, standing on the black square where its mortal body was burnt poor soul. It was pointing to a tree."

      "To what tree – there are plenty in the cloisters."

      "To the copper beech, as you might say Master Rupert. And angry enough he looked. I nearly fainted."

      "You should be used to the ghost by this time Mrs. Petley."

      "Ghosts is things custom won't help you with," said Mrs. Petley mysteriously, "they freeze your blood every time. Just as I was thinking of a good scream and a faint, it vanished."

      "Into thin air like the witches in Macbeth," said Rupert lightly. "Well it doesn't need Abbot Raoul to come and tell me trouble is near. I'm likely to have a good deal by the end of the year."

      "Oh Master Rupert what is it?" gasped the old woman.

      "Nothing I can tell you at present," said Ainsleigh carelessly, "I have a good mind to seek Abbot Raoul myself and see if he can't help me; but I'm not psychic as you are Mrs. Petley. I see nothing."

      "And a good thing too," said the ex-cook solemnly, "if it spoke to you it would be to make matters worse, though worse they can't be."

      "Oh yes they can," said Rupert grimly. "I may have to leave – "

      "Never," cried Mrs. Petley smiting her fat hands together. "Royabay can never do without an Ainsleigh within its walls."

      "It will have to content itself with Abbot Raoul, and I hope he'll jolly well frighten the creditors."

      "Drat them," said Mrs. Petley vigorously, "but Master Rupert why did it pint to the copper beech."

      "I can't say. Ask it when next you see it. But I must go to Major Tidman. He'll be angry if I keep him."

      Mrs. Petley tossed her head and snorted. "The idear of old Farmer Tidman's son, being angry with the likes of you Master Rupert. I mind him when he was a brat of a lad and – "

      "Yes – yes – but I must go," said Ainsleigh rather impatiently and left Mrs. Petley talking to the air.

      Major Tidman, whose ears must have burnt at the thoughts which occupied Mrs. Petley's brain, was seated in the most comfortable arm-chair he could find, and smoked a good cigar. He had a bottle of port and a glass before him, and apparently had made himself at home while waiting.

      "Hope you don't mind my making free with the wine-list," said Tidman, who looked rather uneasy, as he rose. "I've waited two hours."

      "What about?" said Rupert, throwing his cap down and sinking wearily into a near chair, "anything wrong?"

      "I am," said the Major, "all wrong my dear boy. You see in me a beast and a false friend."

      "Indeed. How do you make that out?"

      "I have been concealing things from you," said the Major ruefully, "and all to make money. I'm really getting avaricious, Ainsleigh," added the Major desperately, "and it's spoiling my character."

      "Well," said Rupert filling his pipe, and wondering what this out-burst meant, "Byron says that avarice is a fine old gentlemanly vice. If you have only that fault to blame yourself for, you are very lucky."

      "But I should have told you about the fan."

      Rupert blew out the match he had just lighted and sat up. "What's that about the fan?" he asked sharply.

      "I know something about it," said Tidman fortifying his courage with a glass of wine, "and I should have spoken the other evening after dinner when you read that advertisement. But I thought I'd get the fan myself and secure the five thousand pounds – though to be sure I didn't know what that Tung-yu would pay for it at the time."

      "No," said Rupert drily, "I told you that later. Well, Major, you haven't treated me quite on the square, but I forgive you. I expect neither of us will make money out of that fan."

      "No," said Tidman still more ruefully. "Forge has lost it."

      Rupert looked puzzled. "Forge? What do you mean?"

      "Oh, this is part of my confession of trickery," said the Major rubbing his bald head. "You see Ainsleigh, I held my tongue when you read out about the fan, but I knew where it was all the time."

      "And where was it?" asked the young man staring.

      "Forge has it – or rather Forge had it," said the Major, and he related


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