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AN INSTRUMENT OF THE GODS

I

"The longer I live" said Nichols from the darkness of his corner "the less of difference I see between the East and the West. I've been listening closely to you fellows. We are fond of saying that we don't understand the Oriental; but, let me ask you, do we fully understand our best friends—even ourselves? Whose fault is it? Or, failing to understand the Oriental, is it logical for us to consign him to a different sphere of human nature? Of course, it's the easiest way to dodge the real answer...."

The old Omega had drifted that morning past Green Island, dropping anchor a little later among the fleet off Stonecutter's; and after dinner, moved by a common impulse, we had called our sampans and joined Nichols under her spacious after awning. There, with the broad land-locked harbour of Hong Kong under a half moon reflecting the perfect outline of the Peak, talk had wandered lazily along the range of our shipping activities, to reach at last, as it always did in such company, that world-old problem of the races of men.

"I think I know the race of Chinamen" Nichols went on, while grunts of assent from several quarters of the deck gave testimony to his reputation. "Oh, yes, I know them. They are made of flesh and blood, if you'll believe me; they eat with their mouths, and think in the recesses of their skulls, just as we do. They marry, beget children, and pass through life. They love, fight, strive for gain, sin, suffer, learn lessons, regret, make restitution, are tempted by devils, struggle and triumph, or give up in despair, and finally die with their years and their secrets on their heads. The same old conscience pursues them. Yes, they are eaten up, like us, by the savage and devastating contest with self, the flesh and the spirit striving for the mastery; and out of the contest, like fire struck from clashing swords, come the sparks of ideas, of aspirations, of creative efforts, of wonder and joy, pain and fear, of all the infinite play of this star-spangled life of ours against the soft darkness of the unknown sky.... You fellows have been discussing only superficialities. At heart, you and the Oriental are the same. The Chinese are romantic, I tell you; they are heroic, they are incorrigibly imaginative. You think not? Let me tell you a tale"

Suddenly Nichols laughed, a snort that might have been of self-derision. "You won't be convinced" he chuckled "I see it already. You'll derive from this tale, no doubt, only further confirmation of the unlikeness you imagine. So be it. I merely warn you not to be too sure. Strip my friend Lee Fu Chang naked, for instance, destroy and forget about that long silken coat of his, embroidered so wonderfully with hills and trees and dragons, dress him in a cowboy's suit and locate him in the Rocky Mountain region of fifty years ago, and the game he played with Captain Wilbur won't seem so inappropriate. It's only that you won't expect a mandarin Chinaman to play it. You'll feel that China is too old and civilized for what he did...."

II

"Some of you fellows must remember the notorious case of Captain Wilbur and the ship Speedwell" Nichols began "For years it was spoken of among sailors as a classic instance of nautical perfidy; and this was the port, you know, where Wilbur first brought the ship after he'd stolen her, and settled down to brazen out his crime. But few men have heard how he lost her in the end, or why he disappeared for ever from the life of the sea.

"Perhaps I'd better refresh your memories; let's go back a matter of forty years. Captain Wilbur was a well-known shipmaster of those palmy days. He had commanded the Speedwell for a decade, and possessed a reputation for sterling seamanship and unblemished integrity. His vessel was one of the finest moderate clippers ever launched on the shores of New England. But she was growing old; and Wilbur himself had suffered serious financial reverses, although this fact wasn't known till after the escapade that estranged his friends and set our little world by the ears. He seems to have been something of a gambler in investments, and by bad judgment or ill luck had brought his fortune to the verge of ruin if not of actual disgrace. This, so far as I know, stands as the sole explanation of his amazing downfall. There was nothing else the matter with him, physically or mentally, as you shall hear.

"Out of a clear sky, this was what he did: he deliberately put the Speedwell ashore in Ombay Pass, on a voyage home from Singapore to New York with a light general cargo, and abandoned her as she lay. I say he did it deliberately; this is the common surmise, and subsequent developments lend point to the accusation. It may have been, however, that she actually drifted ashore, and that he didn't try at the time to get her off. Whether he planned the disaster, or whether he succumbed to a temptation thrust in his face by the devil of chance, makes little difference. His plans were deliberate enough after the event.

"Within a month after sailing for home, he was back again in Singapore with his ship's company in three longboats and a tale of a lost vessel. There he remained for three months, cleaning up the business. No breath of scandal was raised against him; Ombay Pass on the turn of the monsoon had caught many a fine vessel before this one, and the account rendered by his officers and crew was straightforward and consistent. The Speedwell, according to the official record, had drifted ashore in a light breeze, before the unmanageable currents of that region, and had lodged on a coral reef at the top of the tide in such a position that she couldn't be got off. It was another case of total loss of ship and cargo; in those days there were no steam craft in the East to send on a mission of salvage, and the Eastern Passages were forbidden hunting ground. What they caught they were allowed to keep, with no words said and the page closed. The insurance companies stood the strain, the ship's affairs were settled without a hitch, and the name of the Speedwell passed simultaneously from the Maritime Register and from the books of her owners in America. Captain Wilbur let it be known that he was going home, and left Singapore.

"It was his remarkable destiny to be the revealer of his own perfidy; he made no bones about the job. Instead of going home, he went to Batavia, and there hired a schooner and crew with the proceeds of his personal holding in the Speedwell. This schooner and crew he took immediately to Ombay Pass. They found the ship still resting in the same position. What they did there must remain a mystery; I have the tale only in fragmentary form from the Lascar who was serang of Wilbur's native crew.

"He, it would seem, was overawed by the extent of the engineering operations in which he participated; his description partook of the colour and extravagance of a myth. Alone in distant waters they had wrestled like heroes with a monstrous task; day had followed day, while the great ship remained motionless and the elements paused to observe the stupendous effort. They had unloaded the cargo: they had sent down the top-hamper and rafted it alongside; they had patched and pumped, and Wilbur himself had dived in the lower hold and under the bows to place the stoppers in their proper position. So far as I can reckon, it took them a couple of months to get her off; but, by Jove, they floated her—a magnificent feat of sailorizing. Then they loaded the cargo again, and came away.

"When Captain Wilbur appeared one morning off Batavia roadstead with the Speedwell under top-gallantsails, towing the schooner, it was the sensation of the port; a sensation that flew like wildfire about the China Sea, as it became clear what he intended to do with her. For he proposed, incredible and unaccountable as it seems, to hold the ship and cargo as salvage; and nothing, apparently, could be done about it. She was actually the property of himself and the Lascar crew.

"The crowd alongshore, everyone interested in shipping, of course turned violently against him; for a time there was wild talk of extra-legal proceedings, and Wilbur might have fared ill had he attempted to frequent his old haunts just then. But he snapped his fingers at them all. He found plenty of men who were willing to advance him credit on the security of the ship: he bought off his crew with liberal allowances, took the Speedwell to Hong Kong and put her in drydock, and soon was ready for business with a fine vessel of his own. Well, he knew that personal repugnance wouldn't be carried to commercial lengths; that he and the ship, by cutting freights a little, could find plenty to do. As for the rest of it, the moral score, he seemed cheerfully prepared to face the music, and probably foresaw that with the passage of time he would be able to live down the record.

"The old Omega and I were down the China Sea on a trading voyage while these events were taking place. When we got back to Hong Kong, Wilbur had already sailed for Antwerp, leaving his story to swell the scandal and fire the indignation of the water-front. I heard it first from my friend, Lee Fu Chang.

"'An extraordinary incident, is it not?' exclaimed Lee Fu in conclusion 'Extraordinary! I am deeply interested. First of all, I am interested in your laws. Here is a man who has stolen a ship; and your laws, it is discovered, support him in the act. But the man himself is the most interesting. It is a crowning stroke, Captain Nichols, that he has not seen fit to change the name of the vessel. Consider this fact. All is as it was before, when the well-known and reputable Captain Wilbur commanded the fine ship Speedwell on voyages to the East'

"'Can it be possible?' said I 'Isn't there some mistake? The man must have the gall of a highway robber! Does the crowd have anything to do with him?'

"'None of his old associates speak in passing; they cross the street to avoid him. He goes about like one afflicted with a pestilence. But the wonder is that he is not disturbed by this treatment. That makes it very extraordinary. He is neither cringing nor brazen; he makes no protests, offers no excuse, and takes no notice. In the face of outrageous insult, Captain, he maintains an air of dignity and reserve, like a man conscious of inner rectitude'

"'Did you talk with him, Lee Fu?' I asked.

"'Oh, yes. In fact, I cultivated his acquaintance. The study fascinated me; it relieved, as it were, the daily monotony of virtue. In him there is no trace of humbug or humility. Do not think that he is a simple man. His heart in this matter is unfathomable ... well worth sounding'

"'By Jove, I believe you liked him!' I exclaimed.

"'No, not that' Lee Fu folded his hands within the long sleeves of his embroidered coat and rested them across his stomach in a characteristic attitude of meditation. 'No, quite the opposite. I abhorred him. He seemed to me unnatural, monstrous, beyond the range of common measure. Captain, there are crimes and crimes, and it has been my lot to know men who have committed many of them. There are murder, theft, arson, treason, infidelity, and all the rest; and these, in a manner of speaking, are natural crimes. Shall we define it thus: a natural crime is one which eventually brings its own retribution? Sooner or later, if justice is not done, the natural crime works havoc with its perpetrator; it plagues his conscience, it fastens like a fungus on his soul. Through lust or passion, natural impulses, he has committed error; but he cannot escape the final payment of the price. On the other hand, there are unnatural crimes, crimes for which there is no reason, crimes requiring no liquidation; and there are unnatural criminals, feeling no remorse. Such a criminal, I take it, is this Captain Wilbur, who goes his way in peace from the betrayal of a sacred trust'

"'Aren't you drawing it a little strong?' I laughed 'It isn't exactly a crime...'

"Lee Fu smiled quietly, giving me a glance that was a mere flicker of the eyelids. 'Perhaps not to you' said he 'Fixed in the mind of your race is a scale of violence by which to measure the errors of men; if no blood flows, then it is not so bad. Your justice is still a barbarian. Thus you constantly underestimate the deeper crimes, allowing your master criminals to go scathless, or even, in some instances, to prosper and win repute by their machinations. But, let me tell you, Captain, murder is brave and honourable compared with this. Consider what he did. Trained to the sea and ships, after a lifetime of honourable service to his traditions, he suddenly forsakes them utterly. Because the matter rests with him alone, because there is nothing in it for him to fear, his serenity condemns his very soul. He has fallen from heaven to hell; flagrantly, remorselessly, and without attempt at concealment or evasion, he has played false with sacred honour and holy life. It is blasphemy that he has committed; when the master of the ship is not to be trusted, the gods tremble in the sky. So I abhor him—and am fascinated. He does not speak of his crime, of course, yet I find myself waiting and watching for a hint, an explanation. Believe me, Captain, when I tell you, that in all my talk with him I have received not a single flash of illumination; no, not one! There is no key to his design. He speaks of his ship and her affairs as other captains do. He is a tall, jovial, healthy man, with frank glances and open speech. For all that seems, he might have forgotten what went on at Ombay Pass. I swear to you that his heart is untroubled. As you would say, he does not care a damn.... And that is horrible'

"A little amused at my friend's moral fervour, I adopted a bantering tone. 'Perhaps the man is innocent' said I 'Perhaps there's something unexplained....'

"'You forget that he holds the vessel as his property—the same vessel that he himself ran on shore' Lee Fu reminded me 'You are still thinking, Captain, of violence and blood. No one was lost, no shots were fired ... so, never mind. It is not vital to you that a strong man within your circle has murdered the spirit; you refuse to become excited or alarmed ... Wait then till actual blood flows'

"'What do you mean by that, Lee Fu? You think...?'

"'I think Captain Wilbur will bear watching. In the meantime, take my advice, and study him when opportunity offers. Thus we learn of heaven and hell'"

III

"A few years went by, while the case of Captain Wilbur and the Speedwell passed through its initial stages of being forgotten. Nothing succeeds like success; the man owned a fine ship, and those who did business with him soon came to take the situation for granted. Wilbur made fast passages, kept the Speedwell in excellent trim, and paid his bills promptly; rumour of course had it that he was growing rich. In all probability it was true. After a while, some of his old friends were willing to let bygones be bygones; there were many more to whom the possession of a fine piece of property seemed of enough importance to cover a multitude of sins. The new fellows who came to the East and heard the tale for the first time couldn't credit it after meeting Wilbur in the flesh. Little by little one began to see him again on the quarter-deck at the evening gatherings of the fleet, or among seafaring men ashore at tiffin. When, in time, it became unwise to start the story against him, for fear of misconstruction of one's motive, it was evident that he had well-nigh won his nefarious match against society.

"I'd met him a number of times, of course, during this interval, and had come to understand Lee Fu's urgent advice. Indeed, for one curious about the habits of the human species, Wilbur compelled attention. That perfect urbanity, that air of unfailing dignity and confidence, that aura of a commanding personality, of an able ship-master among his brethren, of a man whose position in the world was secure beyond peradventure: all this could spring from one of only two spiritual conditions—either from a quiet and innocent conscience, or from a heart perfectly attuned to villainy. As he sat among us, taking up his proper word in the conversation, assuming no mask, showing no concern, it was with the utmost difficulty that one placed him as a man with a dark past, with a damnable blot on his escutcheon. So unconscious was his poise that one often doubted the evidence of memory, and found oneself going back over the record, only to fetch up point-blank against the incontestable fact that he had stolen his ship and betrayed his profession. By Jove, it seemed fantastic! Here he was, to all intents and purposes a gentleman; a likeable fellow, too, in many ways. He talked well, was positive without being arbitrary, usually had a fair and generous word for the issue under discussion, never indulged in criticism; and above all, damn him, he sustained a reputation for expert mastery over this profession to which he'd dealt such a foul blow.

"'It is a triumph of character!' Lee Fu used to repeat, as we compared notes on the case from time to time. 'I think he has not been guilty of a single minor error. His correctness is nothing short of diabolical. It presages disaster, like too much fair weather in the typhoon season. Wait and watch; mark my word, Captain, when the major error comes it will be a great tragedy'

"'Must there be a major error?' I asked, falling into the mood of Lee Fu's exaggerated concern 'He's carried it off so far with the greatest ease'

"'Yes, with the greatest ease' said Lee Fu thoughtfully 'Yet I begin to wonder whether he has been properly put to the test. See how the world protects him! Sometimes I am appalled. It is as if we wrapped the doers of evil in cotton wool, so that not even rudeness might disturb them. He has merely maintained a perfect silence, and the world has done the rest. It has seemed more anxious to forget his crime than he to have it forgotten. So he lives with impunity, as it were. But he is not invulnerable. Life will challenge him yet ... it must be ... life, which is truth, and not the world. Can a man escape the anger and justice of the gods? That is why I concern myself with him—to know his final destiny'

"'You admit, then, that he's not the incarnate criminal you once thought him' I chaffed, unable to take the matter so deeply to heart 'He may be only a stupid fool with a wooden face and naturally good manners....'

"'Not stupid' Lee Fu interrupted 'Yet, on the other hand, not exceptional, not superior to life. Such faultless power of will is in itself no mean part of ability. He is, as you might say, self-centred—most accurately self-centred. But the challenge of the gods displaces the centre of all. He will be like a top that is done spinning. A little breath may topple him at last. Wait and see.... But, for the present, it is evident that were is nothing more to be learned. The mask is inscrutable'

"Thinking the case over at sea, I often laughed to myself over Lee Fu's intensity. Voyage followed voyage; at one time when I had just come in from Bankok and was on my way from the Jetty to Lee Fu's office, I passed Captain Wilbur on the opposite side of Queen's Road. He waved a hand to me as he turned the corner: at once it flashed across my mind that I hadn't observed the Speedwell in the roadstead as I came in. When I had finished my business with Lee Fu, I asked him for an explanation of Wilbur's presence in Hong Kong without his vessel.

"'You are mistaken, Captain—it has little significance' he answered with a quizzical smile 'So, after all, you pay a little attention? The fact is, the successful Captain Wilbur has retired from active service on the sea. He is now a ship owner, nothing more, and has favoured Hong Kong above all other ports as the seat of his retirement. He resides in a fine house on Graham Terrace, and has three chairmen in white livery edged with crimson.... Captain Nichols, you should steal a ship'

"'Who has gone in the Speedwell?' I inquired

"'An old friend of ours, one Captain Turner' said Lee Fu slowly, glancing in my direction.

"'Not Will Turner?'

"'The same'

"I pursed up my mouth in a silent whistle. Will Turner in the Speedwell! Poor fellow, he must have lost another of his ill-starred vessels. Hard luck seemed to pursue him. One ship would be sold from under his command; several he had lost in deep water, by fire, storm or old age; another had sprung a leak in the Java Sea, to be condemned a little later when he had worked her into Batavia. A capable sailor and an honest man; yet life had afforded him nothing but a succession of hard blows and heavy falls. Death and sorrow, too; he had buried a wife and child, swept off by cholera, in the Bay of Bengal. A dozen years before, Turner and I had landed together in the China Sea, and were thrown much in each other's company; I knew his heart, his history, some of his secrets, and liked him tremendously for the man he was.

"Watching Lee Fu in silence, I thought again of the relationship between Will Turner and this extraordinary Chinaman. I won't go into that story now, but there were overwhelming reasons why these two should think well of each other; why Lee Fu should respect and honour Captain Turner, and why Turner should consider Lee Fu his best friend. It had come about as the result of an incident of Turner's early days in the East; an incident of a ship, a rascal and a doctored charter-party, that might have turned into an ugly business save for the conduct and perspicacity of the two chief victims. It had thrown them violently together; ever since, they had kept the bond close and hidden, as became men of reserve. Probably I was the only man in the world who knew how strong it was.

"And now Turner had taken Wilbur's ship. Strange how this new development seemed to impinge on Lee Fu's fancy, how it brought the Wilbur case nearer home. The next moment, of course, the impression had passed; and I saw that, instead of marking another stroke of ill-luck for Turner, it might spell the beginning of good fortune.

"'What happened to the old Altair?' I asked. Turner had commanded a trading packet of that name three months before.

"'She was bought by certain parties for a store-ship, and now lies moored on Kowloon-side' answered Lee Fu 'I was about to make a proposal to Captain Turner, when this plan came forward' he went on, as if excusing himself 'I did not know of it until he had actually accepted. I said everything in my power to dissuade him...'

"'What's the trouble? Didn't Wilbur do the right thing by him?' I asked.

"'Captain, you are perverse. The business arrangement is immaterial. It is unthinkable that our friend should command a ship for such a man. The jealous gods have not yet shown their hand'

"'Nonsense, Lee Fu!' I exclaimed, finding myself irritated at the out-cropping of the old conceit 'Since the thing is done, hadn't we better try to be practical in our attitude?'

"'Exactly' said Lee Fu 'Let us be practical.... Captain Nichols, is it impossible for the Caucasian to reason from cause to effect? There seems to be no logic in your design—which explains many curious facts of history. I have merely insisted, in our consideration of this case, that a man who would do one thing would do another, and that sooner or later life would inevitably present him with another thing to do'

"'But I've known too many men who escaped what you call destiny' I argued peevishly.

"'Have you?' inquired Lee Fu.

"He said no more, and we went out to tiffin"

IV

"That year I plunged into the Malay Archipelago for an extended cruise, was gone seven months among the islands, and wasted another month coming up the China Sea in order to dodge the tail-end of the typhoon season. But luck favoured me, of course, since I wasn't in a hurry; and so it happened that for the last three hundred miles across from Luzon I raced with a typhoon after all, beating it to an anchorage in Hong Kong by a margin of twelve hours. It was an exceptionally late storm; and the late ones, you know, are the least dependable in their actions. Typhoon signals were flying from the Peak as I came in; before the Omega's sails were furled the sky to the eastward had lowered and darkened like a shutter, and the wind had begun to whip in vicious gusts across the harbour.

"I went ashore at once, for I carried important papers from Lee Fu's chief agent in the islands. When I reached his outer office, I found it full of gathering gloom, although it was still early afternoon. Sing Toy immediately took in my name. In a moment I was ushered into the familiar room where my friend sat beside a shaded lamp, facing a teakwood desk inlaid with ivory and invariably bare, save for a priceless Ming vase and an ornament of old green bronze.

"'Back again, Lee Fu' said I, placing the island letters on the desk before him 'And just in time, it seems' A rising gust outside whined along the street.

"He paid no attention to my greeting or the letters. 'Sit down, Captain' said he 'I have bad news'

"'Yes?' I queried, somewhat alarmed at the vagueness of the announcement. So far as I was aware, no matter that we shared between us could result in 'bad news' said in such a tone.

"Folding his hands across his stomach and slightly bowing his head, he gazed at me with a level upturned glance that without betraying expression carried by its very immobility a hint of deep emotion.

"'It is as I told you' said he at last 'Now, perhaps, you will believe'

"'For Heaven's sake, what are you talking about?' I demanded 'Tell me instantly what is wrong'

"He nodded slowly. 'There is plenty of time—and I will tell. It is often said that the season that brings a late typhoon, as now, is also ushered in by an early typhoon. So it was this season. A very severe storm came down before its time, and almost without warning.... It was this storm into whose face our late friend Captain Turner took his ship, the Speedwell, sailing from Hong Kong for New York some four months ago'

"'You don't mean that Turner has lost her?'

"'I regret to inform you, yes. Also, he has lost himself. Three days after sailing, he met the typhoon outside, and was blown upon a lee shore two hundred miles along the China Coast. In this predicament, he cut away his masts and came to anchor. But his ship would not float, and accordingly sank at her anchors....'

"'Sank at her anchors!' I exclaimed 'How could that be? A tight ship never did such a thing'

"'Nevertheless, she sank there in the midst of the storm, and all on board perished. Afterwards, the news was reported from shore, and the hull of the Speedwell was discovered in ten fathoms of water. There has been talk of trying to save the ship; and Captain Wilbur himself, her owner, in a diver's suit, has inspected the wreck. Surely, he should be well-fitted to save her again, if it were possible! He says no, and it is reported that the insurance companies are in agreement with him. That is, they have decided that he cannot turn the trick a second time' Lee Fu's voice dropped to a rasping tone 'The lives, likewise, cannot be saved'

"I sat for some moments in silence, gazing at the green bronze dragon on the desk. Turner gone? A friend's death is shocking, even though it makes so little difference. And between us, too, there had been a bond.... I was thinking of the personal loss, and had missed the significance of Lee Fu's phraseology. I looked up at him blankly; found him still regarding me with up-turned eyes, his chin sunk lower on his breast.

"'That is not all' said he suddenly.

"I sat up as if under the impact of a blow. Across my mind raced thoughts of all that might happen to a man on that abandoned coast. 'What more?' I asked.

"'Listen, Captain, and pay close attention. I have investigated with great care, and am fully satisfied that no mistake has been made. You must believe me.... Some weeks after the departure and loss of the Speedwell, word came to my ears that a man had a tale worth hearing. You know how information reaches me, and that my sources run through unexpected channels among my people. This man was brought; he proved to be a common coolie, a lighter-man who had been employed in the loading of the Speedwell. Note how slight chance may lead to serious occasions. This coolie had been gambling during the dinner hour, and had lost the small sum that he should have taken home as the product of several days' labour. Like many others, he feared his wife, and particularly her mother, who was a shrew. In a moment of desperation, as the lighter was preparing to leave the vessel for the night, he escaped from the others and secreted himself in the Speedwell's lower hold, among the bales of merchandise. What he planned is hard to tell; it does not matter.

"'This happened while yet the ship's lower hold was not quite filled' Lee Fu went on after a pause 'The coolie, as I said, secreted himself in the cargo, well forward, for he had entered by the fore hatch. There he remained many hours, sleeping, and when he awoke, quietness had descended on the deck above. He was about to climb into the between-decks, the air below being heavy with the odours of the cargo, when he heard a sound on the ladder that led down from the upper deck. It was a sound of quiet steps, mingled with a faint metallic rattling. In a moment a foot descended on the floor of the between-decks, and a lantern was cautiously lighted. The coolie retreated quickly to his former hiding place, from which post he was able to see all that went on'

"Again Lee Fu paused, as if lingering in imagination over the scene. 'It seems that this late and secret comer into the hold of the Speedwell was none other than her owner, Captain Wilbur' he slowly resumed 'The coolie knew his face; a distant cousin had once been in the employment of the Wilbur household, and the man was already aware whose ship it was. Most of the inner facts of life are disseminated through the gossip of servants, and are known to a wide circle. Furthermore, as the lighter had been preparing to depart that evening, this coolie had seen the owner come on board in his own sampan. Afterwards, through my inquiries among sampan-men and others, I learned that Captain Turner had spent that night on shore. It was Captain Wilbur's custom, it seems, frequently to sleep on board his ship when she lay here in port; the starboard stateroom was kept in readiness for him. So he had done this night—and he had been alone in the cabin'

"'What was he doing in the hold with a lantern?' I asked, unable to restrain my impatience.

"'Exactly ... you shall hear. I was obliged to make certain deductions from the story of the coolie, for he was not technically acquainted with the internal construction of a vessel. Yet what he saw was perfectly obvious to the most ignorant eye.... Have you ever been in the lower hold of the Speedwell, Captain Nichols?'

"'No, I haven't'

"'But you recall the famous matter of her bow-ports, do you not?'

"'Yes, indeed. I was in Singapore when they were cut'

"The incident came back to me at once, in full detail. There had been a cargo of ironwood on the beach, destined for the repair of a temple somewhere up the Yang-tse-kiang; among it were seven magnificent sticks of timber, each over a hundred feet in length and forty inches square at the butt—these were for columns, I suppose. It had been necessary to find a large ship to take this cargo from Singapore to Shanghai; the Speedwell had finally accepted the charter. In order to load the immense column-timbers, she had been obliged to cut bow-ports of extraordinary size; fifty inches in depth they were, and nearly seven feet in width, according to my recollection—the biggest bow-ports on record.

"'It has been my privilege' Lee Fu went on 'to examine the fore-peak of the Speedwell when these ports were in and her hold was empty. I had once chartered the ship, and felt alarmed for her safety until I had seen the interior fastenings of those great windows which, when she was loaded, looked out into the deep sea. But my alarm was groundless. There was a most ingenious device for strengthening the bows where they had been weakened by the cutting of the ports. Four or five timbers had been severed; but these had been reproduced on the port itself, and the whole was fashioned like a massive door. It lifted upward on immense wrought iron hinges, a hinge to every timber; when it was lowered into its place, gigantic bars of iron, fitted into brackets on the adjoining timbers, stretched across its inner face to hold it against the impact of the waves. At the bottom there were additional fastenings. Thus the port, when tightly caulked from without, became an integral part of the hull; I was told, and could believe it, that there had never been a trace of leakage from her bows. Most remarkable of all, I was told that when it became necessary to lift these ports for use, the task could easily be accomplished by two or three men and a stout watch-tackle.... This, also, I am prepared to believe'

"There seemed to be a general drift to Lee Fu's rambling narrative, but I hadn't yet caught sight of a logical dénouement. 'To resume the story of the coolie' he continued with exasperating deliberation 'This, in plain language, is what he saw. Our friend, Captain Wilbur, descended into the lower hold, and worked his way forward to the fore-peak, where there was little cargo. There he laboured with great effort for several hours; you will recall that he is a vigorous man. He had equipped himself with a short crowbar, and carried a light tackle wrapped about his body beneath the coat. The tackle he loosened and hung to a hook above the middle of the port; I take it that he had brought this gear merely for the purpose of lowering easily the iron cross bars, so that they would make no noise. Had one fallen...'

"'Good God, Lee Fu, what are you trying to tell me?'

"'Merely occurrences. Many quite impossible things, Captain, nevertheless get themselves done in the dark, in secret places, out of sight and mind.... So, with the short crowbar he pried loose little by little the iron braces to the port, slinging them in his tackle and dropping them softly one by one into the ship's bottom. It was a heavy task; the coolie said that sweat poured from the big man like rain. Yet he was bent on accomplishment, and persevered until he had done the job. Later he removed all the additional port fastenings; last of all he covered the cross-bars with dunnage, and rolled against the bow several bulky bales of matting to conceal the crime.... Captain, when the Speedwell sailed from Hong Kong on her last voyage in command of our honoured friend one of her great bowports below the water hung on its hinges without internal fastenings, held in place only by the tightness of the caulking. The first heavy sea...'

"'Can it be possible?' said I through clenched teeth.

"'Oh, yes, so easily. It happened, and has become a part of life. As I told you, I have investigated with scrupulous care; my men dare not tell me lies'

"I was still trying to get my bearings, to grasp a clue. 'But why should he do it, Lee Fu? Had he anything against Turner?'

"'Not at all. You do not seem to understand. He was tired of the vessel, and freights were becoming very poor. He wanted the insurance. He now assures himself that he had no thought of disaster; one could hardly foresee an early typhoon. He had it in mind for the ship to sink discreetly, in pleasant weather, so that all hands might escape.... Yet he was willing to run the risk of wholesale murder. Remember how he sweated at the task, there in the fetid air of the lower hold. It was absentee murder, if you will; he did not contemplate, he was not forced to contemplate, the possible results of his act on the lives of others.... What do you think now, Captain, of a man who will betray his profession?'

"I got up abruptly and began to pace the floor. The damnable affair had made me sick at heart, and a little sick at the stomach. What to think?—what to believe? It seemed incredible, fantastic; there must be some mistake.... While I was pacing, Lee Fu changed his position. He faced the desk, stretched out an arm, and put his palm flat down on the polished surface.

"'Thus the gods have struck' said he, in that changeless voice that seemed an echo of the ages 'There is blood at last, Captain—twenty-seven lives, and among them one dear to us—enough to convince even one of your race that a crime has been committed. But my analysis was seriously in error. The criminal, it seems, is destined not to suffer. He continues to go about carried by three men in white and crimson livery, his belly full of food and wine. Others have paid the price. Instead of toppling, his life spins on with renewed momentum. My query has been answered; he has escaped the gods'

"'Can't you rip the case open, jostle his security? Isn't there some way...?'

"'No way' said Lee Fu with a shake of the head 'You forget the fine principle of extraterritoriality, which you have so kindly imposed on us by force of arms. Captain Wilbur is not subject to Chinese justice; your own courts have exclusive jurisdiction over him, his kind, and all their works. No, Captain, he is amply protected. What could I accomplish in your courts with this fanciful accusation, and for witnesses a coolie and a sampan-man?'

"I continued to pace the floor, thinking dark thoughts. There was a way, of course ... between man and man; but such things aren't done any longer by civilized people. We're supposed not to go about with firearms, privately meting out justice. We are domesticated. Whatever the thoughts I might have harboured, in the first anger of the realization of wrong, I knew very well that I shouldn't act on them. Lee Fu was right, there was nothing to be done; the man had made good his escape from the hand of destiny.

"Pacing rapidly, as if pursued by a veritable phantom of crime, and oblivious of everything but the four walls of the room, I nearly floored the chief clerk, Sing Toy, as he pattered in with a message from the outer office. He ducked, slipped behind the lamp, and began whispering in Lee Fu's ear.

"'Ah!' exclaimed Lee Fu sharply.

"I started, whirled around in my tracks. His voice had lost the level, passive tone; it had taken on the timbre of action. Suddenly, with a quick rustle of silken garments, he stood up behind the desk; the abrupt motion threw his shadow across the floor and up the opposite wall. With a subtle thrill of anticipation, I felt the profound psychic change that had come over my friend. The very air of the room had quickened before that single exclamation, as if a cold breeze had blown through.... A breeze, indeed, was at that moment trying hard to find an entrance; the absolute silence of the room brought out in sharp relief the tumult outside, the hoarse voice of the rising gale. We stood as if listening. I looked at Lee Fu, caught his eye. It was charged with energy and purpose, with something like relief—like the eye of a man who has made up his mind after a long period of bewilderment, who begins to understand....

"'Send him in, alone' said he in Chinese to Sing Toy, now at the outer door.

"'Who is it?' I asked hoarsely.

"'The man we have been speaking of'

"'Wilbur? What the devil...?'

"'He merely dropped in as he was passing, to make a call' said Lee Fu, speaking rapidly 'So he thinks—but I think otherwise' Leaning forward across the desk, he fixed me with an extended arm that trembled slightly before it found its aim. 'Keep silence' he commanded 'Beware of word or glance. This chanced by predestination. We are on the threshold of the gods'