The Adventurers

by Robbins, Harold

  She turned to him suddenly. "Do you know why he really hired you?"

  He stared at her, the telephone forgotten in his hand. "Sometimes I wonder. It seems as if I'm the last person he needs."

  She laughed. "He hired you for me. He thought I needed you."

  Slowly he put down the telephone.

  "He loves me," she continued, "and he wants me to have everything. So he brought you home."

  "Did he tell you this?"

  "Of course not; do you think he would be that much a fool? Look, I've brought you home a lover?"

  He stared at her, then his eyes fell. "I'm sorry. I did not know."

  She turned and looked out the window again. "Of course you didn't, that was what I liked about you. You were too much a gentleman to even think such a thing."

  "Tomorrow when Sir Peter returns I'll hand in my notice."

  She looked at him. "You are a gentleman. Where will you go, what will you do? Do you have any money?"

  He thought of the hundred francs a week that Sir Peter paid him and shook his head.

  "Then don't be a fool," she said sharply. "You are not to leave here until you have money."

  "At one hundred francs a week?"

  "That's something Sir Peter taught me," she said. "There is always an opportunity to make money when there is a lot of money around," She came back into the room. "Look for it, you'll find it."

  He shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I have no talent for making money."

  She looked at him curiously. "You don't like to work, do you?"

  He grinned at her. "I guess that's it. Work is boring. There is never any fun. I've had enough of it."

  "How do you expect to get money then?"

  He shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps I'll find a rich American girl to marry."

  She nodded seriously. "That would be preferable to playing the gigolo to Madame Goyen."

  He stared at her. He had not thought she would take him seriously. "But it takes money to make money."

  "Perhaps I can help you," she said. "Now go. You have the rest of the afternoon off."

  He nodded and left the library, though he did not leave the house. Instead he went to his room and got out of his warm sticky clothing and took a shower. Then he stretched out on the bed and lit a cigarette. Before it was finished the expected knock came at the door.

  He smiled to himself and, stamping out the cigarette, shrugged into a robe as he opened the door. "Come in."

  "I have an idea that may help you."

  "Yes?" He saw her eyes fall to the front of his half-open robe. A faint flush began to rise over her face.

  She made an effort to look away but in spite of herself her eyes could not leave the fascination of his rapidly increasing tumescence. Her lips parted. "I—"

  "I have a better idea," he interrupted, drawing her toward the bed. "I think it's about time I began to earn all of my salary."

  "I have to see you," she whispered as he came into the dining room. "Don't go upstairs after dinner."

  He nodded to show that he understood and went to his accustomed place at the table. He remained standing until Sir Peter came in, and then the two of them sat down.

  After dinner, as usual, Sir Peter retired. Sergei went out onto the terrasse and waited. A few minutes later she appeared. They stood at the railing and looked out at the flaming sun going down behind the mountains.

  "I'm pregnant," she whispered.

  He stared at her in surprise. "With twenty-two bidets in the house you—" He caught himself. "Are you sure?"

  She nodded silently. Her face was pale.

  He whistled softly. "I wonder if Sir Peter ever considered this one?"

  She didn't answer.

  "Have you told him?"

  She shook her head. "Not yet."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Get rid of it. I have asked my doctor to make the arrangements."

  "You'll never get away with it. He'll find out."

  "I have to take that chance," she said desperately. "What else can I do?"

  He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. He stared at her thoughtfully. "When?"

  "Tomorrow. He has to attend the board meeting at the bank all afternoon. You'll have to drive me to the clinique and back; I don't dare trust the servants. I'll make up some excuse so I can stay in bed for a few days."

  Abruptly he flipped his cigarette over the railing. He watched it tumble end over end into the garden below. "What time?"

  "I won't come down for lunch. I'll pretend to be sick in the morning."

  "What time?"

  "After lunch, as soon as he leaves for the bank." She put her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry."

  He looked down at her. "I am too."

  She started to speak, then changed her mind. She turned and went into the house. He watched her walk up the grand staircase and then turned back toward the harbor. Slowly the sun disappeared behind the mountain and it was night. And still he stood there.

  She looked at her watch. It was almost two-thirty. She had heard the big limousine go down the driveway over half an hour ago. Why hadn't Sergei come for her yet? Then there was a soft knock at the door. Quickly she moved toward it.

  "What took you so long?" she asked, then the words stopped in her throat.

  It wasn't Sergei who stood there.

  "May I come in?"

  "Of course," she said. She moved back from the door to the center of the room. "Sergei told you?"

  He closed the door behind him. "Yes."

  He saw the tears in her eyes when he turned. "I suppose there's no use in my telling you that I'm sorry."

  His eyes met hers steadily. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about. We will have a beautiful son."

  Sergei sat in the train later that afternoon looking out the window at the countryside rolling past. There were times when he could see far out into the Mediterranean from the corniche along which the tracks were laid. At other times the mountains hovered over the train like twin guardians.

  He looked down at the newspaper on his lap without really seeing it. He had done the right thing. He knew that. And it wasn't only the hundred thousand francs that Sir Peter had given him which made him feel that way. It was the look in the old man's eye when he had told him.

  It wasn't that he had been brought to have an affair with her. It was more than that. He had been brought to do what the old man could never do, and now it was done.

  A wry grin crossed his lips. Not bad. A hundred thousand francs in stud fees wasn't bad at all. That was the way to do it.

  It was better than working for a living.

  CHAPTER 17

  "The first thing we have to do is buy you a few Chinese girls." The language was French, but with a heavily guttural Greek accent.

  Christopoulos' nephew was nothing like Marcel had imagined him to be. He was short but slim, and darkly good looking. His suits were immaculately tailored, in many ways superior to anything Marcel had seen in Europe.

  "Stay away from the refugees," Eli continued, "the white women will only get you into trouble. If you don't wind up with a clap, you'll end up in a worse mess with the police. They're always involved in one sort of plot or another."

  Marcel found his voice. "What do I need any woman for? I can get along without them."

  The dark eyes considered him shrewdly. "That's what you think. You haven't met the sort of women we have out here. They keep grabbing for your cock until they get it." He lit a cigarette. "Besides, the Chinese are a strange race. They won't accept you until they see you have accepted them."

  "And buying Chinese girls will indicate this?"

  Eli nodded. "Yes, and even more. It will show that you intend to stay here. Whether you do or not is immaterial. Once you buy a girl you are always responsible for her; therefore, even if you should go away you will still be here. Understand?"

  Marcel nodded. It was odd but he understood.

  "The next thing is to get you some decent c
lothes."

  "What's the matter with my clothes? I had them all made just before I left Paris."

  "They're too European," Eli said. "Only the refugees here wear European clothing. Besides, the French are the worst men's tailors in the world. There are proper tailors in Hong Kong."

  "Oh, no!" Marcel groaned. The overnight trip on the ancient rolling ship from Hong Kong had been the worst part of the journey out from Paris. "I won't go back there."

  Eli grinned. "You won't have to. My tailor will come here for the fittings."

  "But what will I do with all the clothes I already bought?"

  "Give them away," the young Greek replied negligently. "Perhaps some Chinese will accept them in trade, possibly for a house girl. But you won't get anything much for them." He got to his feet. "Come. My apartment is in the building behind the casino."

  "I'd like to take a look around first if I may."

  "Not until you have the proper clothing," Eli replied firmly. "God alone knows how much face you have already lost walking through the casino carrying your own luggage!"

  He clapped his hands sharply and a servant came in for Marcel's bags. "We can't even go shopping for girls until after you get your clothing. No respectable Chinese would sell his daughter to a man dressed like you!"

  Her name was Jade Lotus. She was fourteen years old and delicately made. Her skin was the color of rose ivory, her eyes large and dark, and her face delicately oval, not round like most Chinese girls. And she walked as gracefully and lightly on her feet as if they had not been bound at all. Marcel could tell with one glance that she was not like the others.

  He looked at her father. The old man was sitting quietly, sipping his tea. Marcel turned to Eli. He too was silent. He sipped at the tea.

  After a moment he spoke. It was in Cantonese, a language Marcel did not understand. "Your tea has the fragrance of a thousand flowers, Honorable Tao."

  "It is but a poor attempt to please the palates of my honorable guests," the old man replied softly.

  "I have your permission to speak in French? It is the language of my friend here."

  "Of course." Tao Minh bowed graciously. He looked over at Marcel. "French is a language of which I am most fond. It has a music very much like our own."

  Marcel could not help his look of surprise but he remembered to be polite. "I thank you for your indulgence of my ignorance."

  The old man nodded graciously. He picked up a small mallet from the table and struck a tiny gong. Before its musical tone had faded his tea had been taken away and a long slim pipe placed next to him. He held the thin bowl over a small candle in a glass in the center of the table. After a moment he inverted the bowl so the flame could lick into it. Then he put the stem delicately into his mouth.

  Marcel stared at him in fascination. Neither of the men he had bought the first two girls from was like this one. By contrast they seemed common, even vulgar.

  "What you need is a girl of high caste," Eli had explained to him. "One of good manners and breeding who will act as your hostess, your number-one wife. It is she who will entertain your friends and run your household. It is she who will maintain your 'face.' "

  "Let's get one then." Marcel was tired of the delays—first the clothing, now the girls. He was beginning to feel he would never be allowed into the casino.

  "It's not that easy," Eli said. "There are not many such girls around. Usually the wealthy Chinese want them for themselves."

  "What am I supposed to do then? Wait forever until we find one?"

  "Take it easy, my friend, this is the Orient, not France. Things are not done as quickly here as at home. But do not give up hope. There is one girl I have heard of who might fill the requirements but—"

  "But what?" Marcel interrupted impatiently. "Let's get her and have it over with!"

  "Not so fast. There must be something wrong with the girl. She is old and not yet chosen. I have asked my agents to investigate." "Old?" Marcel had asked. "How old?"

  "Past fourteen."

  Marcel stared at him. "You call that old?"

  Eli met his eyes. "It is old in a country where the most eligible are married at eight or ten."

  Finally the agents brought back a satisfactory report. Jade Lotus was very beautiful, well educated, and highly trained. She had a lovely singing voice and could play several instruments, including the small lyre of which the Chinese are so fond. It took a great deal of questioning on Eli's part to find out why she had not yet been married, but at last the flaw was revealed.

  Jade Lotus walked like a Western woman. It was as if her feet had never been bound. Her father had called in specialist after specialist but there was nothing they could do. He had all but resigned himself to having her forever in his house.

  Now the old man nodded benevolently at Marcel. "The fragrance of the poppy is most relaxing after tea."

  Marcel wondered at a civilization that allowed one quietly to smoke a pipeful of opium after tea and still persisted in binding a girl child's feet despite all the laws that had been passed against it.

  Apparently it was time for the bargaining to commence. "My friend has come here to establish a home."

  The old man nodded. "May the gods of fortune attend him."

  "He is a man of great standing in the Western world."

  "I am honored that he enters my house."

  "He seeks a number-one wife," Eli continued, "someone with whom he can share his old age and blessings."

  "Many Westerners have so proclaimed," the old man replied, "but in time they all returned to their own land leaving empty homes and broken hearts behind."

  Marcel felt his heart sink. This old man was on to him. He looked at Eli.

  But Eli was ready with an answer. "My friend is willing to take insurance against such a day, though he knows it will never occur."

  Tao drew at his pipe and nodded. "I have come to depend on Jade Lotus," he said. "She is by far the brightest and most beautiful of all my daughters."

  "She is also the eldest, almost beyond the age of a favorable marriage."

  "Only because I have been most careful in the selection of a husband for her. So fair a flower demands a most particular garden."

  "Overcaution has placed many a girl in the gardens on the other side of the hill," Eli replied.

  They all knew what that meant. Older girls were often sold to brothels on the far side of the port. Tao's expression did not change as he looked at Marcel. "How is one to judge the sincerity of another's affection?"

  "My friend offers one thousand dollars Hong Kong as a token of his sincerity."

  The Chinese made a casual gesture with his pipe. "A mere nothing compared with the esteem in which I hold Jade Lotus."

  Marcel looked up in surprise as Eli got to his feet. "We thank the Honorable Tao for his gracious hospitality and beg a thousand pardons for daring to intrude upon his valuable time."

  Tao was upset at this sudden termination of negotiations. In spite of himself words came from his lips. "Just a moment, just a moment. Why are all Westerners always in such a hurry?"

  From behind the large screen Jade Lotus watched and smiled to herself as Eli sat down and the bargaining began again. She had noticed that the one who bought her had not got up when his friend did.

  The next day a heavyset Portuguese policeman sat in the chair in front of Eli's desk. He took out a handkerchief and mopped his face. "It has been brought to our attention that your friend has been buying wives." He glanced at Marcel. "You are aware that there are laws against such practices?"

  Eli grinned. "Is it against the law for a man to hire servants for his house?"

  The policeman smiled. "No, of course not." He looked again at Marcel. "But I thought this might be a good opportunity to meet your friend."

  Eli introduced them. "Detective Lieutenant Goa keeps an eye out for us in case there should be trouble."

  The two men shook hands.

  "Once every month he gets an envelope containing ten tho
usand Hong Kong dollars. No one has yet been able to figure out where it comes from."

  The policeman grinned. "There are always two extra men on duty outside each night."

  Marcel looked at Eli. "Has there ever been trouble?"

  Eli shook his head. "Not in the years I've been here."

  Marcel turned back to the policeman. "Perhaps one policeman outside would be sufficient," he said with a smile. "That way your overhead could be cut in half."

  The policeman's hearty laughter boomed through the room. "I think your friend and I will get along. I hear he hired old Tao's Jade Lotus as his housekeeper, the lucky dog. I had an eye on that one myself. But I was waiting until the price came down to where I could afford her."

  The fan-tan players at the big table looked up as Marcel and Eli walked through the casino. "The new owner," one of them said.

  Another nodded his head. "One can see he is a man of great wealth and stature from his clothing. He is very British."

  What he really meant was that Marcel was fair and had brown hair, not like Eli, who was dark.

  "Only a man of great wealth could open his house by the purchase of four wives in one week!" a third player said.

  "Yes," added the first, "and one of them Tao's daughter Jade Lotus, as number-one wife. You know old Tao. I'll bet he made the Westerner pay plenty even though her feet are not right."

  "Begin the game," another said impatiently. "Everyone knows that Westerners are stupid about such things."

  CHAPTER 18

  The smell of the old city was overpowering as Marcel turned into the narrow street. Here there was no chance for it to escape. The buildings kept the street in perpetual shadow and there was barely enough room for a rickshaw to squeeze through, much less an automobile.

  Marcel turned and looked down the street. At the end were the docks. The faint calls of the fishmongers echoed up the winding street and everywhere was the stench of the unsold catch that lay rotting on the wharfs. The beggars waited hungrily for the fishermen to turn their backs.