Missee Lee

by Arthur Ransome

  There was a long silence. Then John spoke with, in spite of himself, a shake in his voice. “I hope you will forgive us for sleeping in the temple. We didn’t know what it was, and, you see, we had been ship-wrecked, and there was nowhere else.”

  “Quite all light,” said Miss Lee. “I think my father velly pleased.”

  “I used your kettle,” said Susan. “And the Primus. I never thought we weren’t coming back. And we left all our things there.”

  “We will get them when I go next to my father’s glave,” said Miss Lee. “No one else goes there without my orders. No one would touch them in the temple.”

  “We took some of your tea, too,” said Peggy.

  “Polly left husks on the floor,” said Titty.

  But Miss Lee was not listening. She had got up from the armchair and moved to the table. Roger scrambled up from the floor.

  “Who wrote in this book?” asked Miss Lee, sitting down at the table and opening the dictionary on her slanting desk.

  “I did,” said Roger, very red indeed. “I’m very sorry. I did it without thinking.”

  “Not Latin,” she said, “that last line, but velly good.”

  “Our chaps always put it in,” said Roger, whose face was like sunshine breaking through clouds. “I thought you’d just forgotten to finish it.”

  “Do you know any more?” asked Miss Lee.

  “No Latin ones,” said Roger. “Of course the men who haven’t really started Latin sometimes put something in English.”

  “What do they write?” asked Miss Lee.

  “Very dull,” said Roger. “They just write:

  ‘He who takes what isn’t his’n

  When he’s caught shall go to prison.’”

  “His’n,” said Miss Lee. “Possessive emphatic. … His own. … I see.”

  “We don’t bother about Latin,” said Nancy. “But we’ve got a rhyme like that to put in the beginning of books. We write:

  ‘If this book should chance to roam

  Box its ears and send it home.’”

  “Why punish the book and not the thief?” said Miss Lee. “The one in the dictionary is better and Loger’s last line and the picture make it a warning even for uncultured persons.”

  She thought for a moment, and went on. “Velly lucky you went to my father’s glave. Velly luck Loger lote in my book. I will tell you. I sent my amah to fetch my books. She told me people had been at my father’s glave. I sent men to kill. A fisherman saw you and he told Turtle Island men. They too were on their way to kill when I sat down to do some tlanslation and saw what Loger had litten in my dictionary. It was like a message flom my father’s glave to say ‘These persons are not thieves but students’. Quick, quick, I sent a message not to kill. Wu’s men from Turtle Island saw you go across to Tiger. So I sent orders to Chang to bling all plisoners to my yamen today. Chang thought I knew evellything. So he blought all, even his Lord Mayor … whom I knew nothing about. Chang meant to keep him and say nothing because of my father’s law.”

  “Gosh,” said Roger. “Was that why he looked so mad when that message came? That whistling was signalling, wasn’t it?”

  Miss Lee smiled proudly. “When I was in England I was a Girl Guide,” she said. She tapped with her fingers on the table, giving the call up sign in Morse. “No teleglaph in Chinese. So I made a signal code for Thlee Islands men. My father was velly pleased. We can talk from Dlagon Island to Tiger or Turtle and no one knows what is said, only the whistlers. Velly difficult because of Chinese language. I taught twelve men English letters so that they could whistle messages. …”

  “How did you teach them?” asked Roger.

  “Bamboo,” said Miss Lee. “Velly uncultured men.”

  “Can we send a message somewhere to say we are all right?” asked Susan.

  “No.” Miss Lee frowned. “Bling gunboats,” she said and shook her head. “You are English,” she said. “All English … except your Captain James Flint, Lord Mayor of San Flancisco. …” She looked hard at Nancy.

  “But we were picked up at sea,” said Nancy. “We ought not to be prisoners at all.”

  “That captain who picked you up was one of Chang’s men, a Tiger Island man. He knew my father’s law. He knew velly well he ought to leave you alone.”

  “But what could he do?” said Nancy.

  “Leave you dlown,” said Miss Lee. “But Chang is a velly gleedy man. Chang wants to get lich quick. And when your Captain Flint told him he was Amelican and Lord Mayor of San Flancisco Chang said to himself ‘Amelican is not English’. He knew I would not allow, but he thought quite safe to keep him and get a lot of money flom Amelica.”

  Miss Lee’s six guests looked at each other uncomfortably.

  “Chang hoped I should know nothing,” Miss Lee went on. “He will make Lord Mayor San Flancisco lite a letter to Amelica and get plenty of money, and keep all that money for Tiger Island men.”

  “But now that you know?” said Nancy.

  “Listen,” said Miss Lee. “We all bleak my father’s law together. I think my father velly pleased for me. I cannot go to Camblidge so I make my Camblidge here. Only my father’s old counsellor not pleased. And Wu. They say English and Amelican are all one. Chang says quite safe to keep Amelican plisoner not English. I told them Chang could keep San Flancisco and that I would keep you. No one would know. No one would come to look for you. Chang agleed, but he wanted to keep Tittee. I said No. The others wanted to kill evellybody and keep my father’s law and have no tlouble with gunboats. I said No. You stay in my yamen. Chang has San Flancisco.”

  “But if Uncle Jim writes to America,” said Nancy, with something of a sparkle in her eyes, “won’t that be just as bad as sending a message to Hong Kong?”

  “No,” said Miss Lee. “Amelica is far away. Chang thinks he will send a letter by a messenger. No one will know where it comes from or where the answer goes.”

  “But when he lets Captain Flint go?” said Susan.

  “Chang says there will be no need to let him go. First get the money, then … No head, no talk.”

  “But that’s beastly,” said Roger.

  “The money’ll be a long time coming,” said Nancy with a grin.

  Miss Lee looked at her through half-closed eyes. “I think so too,” she said.

  “I mean it’s a long way to America and back,” said Nancy hurriedly.

  “Chang’s got my parrot,” said Titty.

  “And he’s got Gibber,” said Roger. “My monkey. In the prison, next door to Captain Flint’s cage.”

  “Pallot?” said Miss Lee. “Monkey?”

  “Ours,” said Titty and Roger.

  “I will send a message,” said Miss Lee. “Too late for them to come today, but you shall have them tomollow. You will be my guests. You will be velly happy. I think it is lucky I saw Loger’s liting in my book. I think my father velly pleased I have a class of students. Not quite Camblidge. But we will study here. We will study evelly day. We will tlanslate Virgil. We will lead Caesar. …”

  “But Peggy and I don’t know any Latin,” said Nancy.

  “Neither do I,” said Susan.

  “I only picked up a little while Roger was doing lessons,” said Titty. “I’ve never learnt properly.”

  “I will teach you from the beginning,” said Miss Lee.

  “But we’ve got to get home,” said Susan.

  “You will stay here,” said Miss Lee. “And now my amah will show you where you will sleep.”

  She clapped her hands, and the old Chinese woman, who must have been waiting outside, hurried into the room. Miss Lee said a word or two in Chinese.

  “My speak velly good English,” said the old amah. “You belong walkee. My show you.”

  One after another, led by John, they shook hands with Miss Lee as if it had been an ordinary party. Then, almost stunned by what they had heard, they followed the old amah out of the room, out of Miss Lee’s house, along the path to a small one-storey house on
the further side of the council chamber. There were three or four small rooms in it besides a big one looking out into the garden. The old amah pointed to plank beds with cushions and quilts. She seemed to guess that in such things Susan was the one who mattered. She pulled Susan by the hand and showed her a Chinese bathroom, with a huge earthenware water kong and a dipper for dipping out the water. “Missee Lee think of evellything,” she said, and pointed out a small packet with a printed label. “Wright’s Coal Tar Soap” and three or four big sponges on a bamboo rack above a row of towels.

  “Thank you very much,” said Susan.

  “You belong live here. … My belong bling man fan … chow,” said the old amah. “If you wantee piecee anything you belong clap hands … so.”

  She bowed to them all and left them.

  *

  “She can’t mean to keep us for ever,” said Susan.

  “But she does,” said Titty. “She said so.”

  “She’s practically bought us,” said John. “You heard what she said about keeping us herself and letting Chang have Captain Flint.”

  “Listen,” said Roger. “That whistling again. She’s telling Chang he’s jolly well got to give up Polly and Gibber.”

  “Barbecued billygoats,” said Nancy. “We’re all right, unless she really means all that stuff about Latin. But what about Captain Flint? She knows he isn’t American. I could see that. And when Chang finds out he’ll be furious. They’ll have his head off first thing. …”

  “It’s jolly lucky I did write in her dictionary,” said Roger.

  “We’re not all right,” said Susan. “What about Daddy? What about Mother and Mrs. Blackett at Beckfoot? What about Bridget?”

  “Bridget won’t mind,” said Roger.

  “Mother will,” said Susan.

  “Look here,” said John. “Nobody’s expecting to hear from us for ten days or a fortnight at least. They won’t begin worrying yet. It’ll be all right if only we get away in time.”

  “But how?” said Susan.

  “We’re prisoners just as much as Uncle Jim,” said Peggy.

  “Let’s see if we are,” said Nancy. “We can get into the garden, anyhow, and there’s another door at the back.”

  They tried the door and found that they could open it. They looked out into the great courtyard, empty now and silent, except for voices from the gateway where the guards, their rifles leaning against the wall, were playing cards, sitting on their heels. They turned back, closed that door and went warily out into the garden. Keeping out of sight of Miss Lee’s house, they dodged through orange-trees, and found themselves looking down on steep terraces with winding paths. There were willow-trees drooping over a little pond in which they caught the golden glow of fish. There were trellises covered with purple and scarlet flowers. There were dwarf trees like pines and oaks. And far away, below the garden, they could see the water of the river and, in the distance, range upon range of blue hills.

  “Look,” whispered Roger.

  On one of the paths below them two figures were earnestly talking. One was the aged counsellor and the other was Miss Lee herself.

  “We’d better go back,” said Susan.

  They went back into their house and chose their rooms for the night, one for John and Roger, one for Titty and Susan and one for Nancy and Peggy.

  “Three cabins,” said Roger. “It’s like being back in the Wild Cat.”

  No one answered him, and Roger himself pinched his lip between his teeth. If only Gibber had not set fire to the Wild Cat they would not be prisoners now.

  “It’ll be all right in the end,” said Nancy at last. “For Uncle Jim too. It always is.”

  The old amah came in with a man bringing them their supper, big bowls of rice with pigeon’s eggs and bowls of congee soup. The old amah, who had nursed Miss Lee when she was a little girl, stayed and watched them. She began to treat them as if they were all small children, even John, and stopped first one and then another because they were not using their chopsticks in the proper way. “You belong live Missee Lee yamen,” she said. “Belong chow-chow China fashion.”

  Long after they had eaten their supper and seen the trays of empty bowls carried away, Miss Lee came to look at them, but only for a moment. She gave them no chance of asking questions. She just looked at them with a pleased smile. “You come to me tomollow,” she said, “and have bleakfast Camblidge fashion. … Ham and eggs. … Then we begin study. … Good night. Sleep well.” She bowed and was gone.

  “She looked at us as if we were pet rabbits,” said Roger.

  “Oh, well,” said Nancy. “We ought to be jolly pleased. People don’t cut off pet rabbits’ heads.”

  CHAPTER XIV

  CAMBRIDGE BREAKFAST AND AN S.O.S.

  THEY were getting accustomed to sleeping in strange places. It was four days now since they slept for the last time in their comfortable cabins in the Wild Cat. They found the Chinese beds much easier than they had looked, and, after a good night’s rest, woke early and ready for anything. Roger was up first for once, and there was a little trouble because he wanted to climb into the great earthenware water kong to have a bath. John grabbed him just in time and explained that the same lot of water had to do for everybody, and that the way to use it was to dip from it and empty the dipper over one’s shoulders and head. Anybody could guess that who looked at the brown tiled floor and saw how it sloped from each side towards a channel in the middle that carried the water away and out through a hole in the wall. They were more or less dressed when the amah came in and Susan made signs of toothbrushing. The amah went off and came back with some bundles of bamboo toothpicks, and then waited to see how they used them.

  A bell sounded and the amah bustled them out. “Missee Lee,” she said. “You belong chow chiu fan … bleakfast … longside Missee Lee.”

  She led the way through the garden to Miss Lee’s house and into Miss Lee’s Cambridge study.

  “Good morning,” said Miss Lee who was pouring out coffee at the head of a trestle-table that had been put up at one side of the room.

  Staring at the table, they said, “Good morning.”

  “Gosh!” murmured Roger.

  “Sit down, please,” said Miss Lee, and they sat down, three on each side. In the middle of the table was a large jar of Cooper’s Oxford marmalade. In front of each of them was a bowl of porridge and from somewhere in the house came a smell of fried ham that made Roger sniff and sniff again.

  “Knives and forks,” said Roger.

  “And spoons,” said Titty.

  “Evellything Camblidge fashion,” said Miss Lee proudly. “Sugar, please? Please take milk.”

  “Jolly good porridge,” said Nancy after her first mouthful. “Wouldn’t Uncle Jim like some. …”

  For a moment they all thought of Captain Flint, sitting behind bars, doing his best to eat rice with chopsticks. The thought spoilt the taste of the porridge.

  “Chinese food is velly wholesome,” said Miss Lee. “You need not wolly about your Captain Flint. Taicoon Chang will tleat him velly well till he gets his answer from Amelica.”

  “But he’s in prison,” said Titty.

  “Velly uncultured man,” said Miss Lee. “Why not?”

  “What about Gibber and Polly?” asked Roger.

  “Roger’s monkey and Titty’s parrot,” John explained.

  “Taicoon Chang will send them today,” said Miss Lee.

  “Oh good,” said Roger, and with the thought that Gibber and Polly were to join them, the thought of Captain Flint faded. It did not seem quite fair to him. But there was nothing to be done and there was no point in letting the porridge get cold.

  The smell of fried ham grew suddenly stronger, and men came in, took the empty porridge bowls away and set a plate before each of them, with fried ham on fried toast with two very little eggs, fried, on the top of the ham.

  Miss Lee said she was sorry about the size of the eggs. “Camblidge eggs are bigger. Velly small eggs. Velly s
mall hens.”

  “Bantams, I bet,” said Roger.

  After the ham and eggs, Miss Lee invited them to take toast and marmalade. “We always eat Oxford marmalade at Camblidge,” she said. “Better scholars, better plofessors at Camblidge but better marmalade at Oxford.”

  Anybody could see that Miss Lee was enjoying herself. The cartridge belt and the revolver hung behind the door were the only things in the room to suggest that the Miss Lee of Cambridge giving breakfast to her students was also Missee Lee, the pirate chief of the three islands, the terror of the China coast. She talked away about days boating on the Cam, about breakfasts with her tutor, about the head of her college and her old plans for a career of scholarship. It was hard to believe that in the courtyard close by they had seen prisoners behind bars, ransoms being paid, and busy accountants weighing silver dollars and working out with the help of the abacus the shares of the profits due to junk captains and crews and to Miss Lee herself. And when, soon after breakfast, they found themselves sitting at the table being examined as to how much Latin they knew, it was only the whistling of kites and the churr of cicadas in the orange-trees outside that reminded them that they were not at school at home in England.

  Miss Lee began at the beginning of the Latin Grammar, with the declensions, and soon found that “Mensa mensa mensam” meant nothing whatever to Susan, Nancy or Peggy, though Titty struggled through with a little help. John and Roger went through the declensions with ease. “Now genders,” said Miss Lee.

  ‘“Common are to either sex