CHAPTER V
MAJOR TEMPLE'S STORY
We sat in the dimly lighted library after dinner, having been joined bySergeant McQuade who returned from Exeter about nine. I had not seenMiss Temple alone, since dinner, as she had retired to her room as soonas our silent meal was over. The Major, after furnishing us with someexcellent cigars, and some specially fine liqueur brandy, settledhimself in his easy chair and proceeded to tell us of his experiences,and those of Robert Ashton, in the pursuit of the emerald Buddha. Heseemed anxious to do this, to show to the detective the probability ofthe murder of Ashton having occurred in an attempt upon the part of someChinese secret or religious society to recover the jewel. He showed nofeeling of animosity toward the man from Scotland Yard whether he feltit or not, and had either concluded that the latter's sharp questioningof his daughter was justified by the curious and inexplicablecircumstances which surrounded the tragedy, or else was desirous ofcovering up his own knowledge of the matter by assuming a manner at oncefrank and ingenuous.
"I spent almost all of last year," said the Major, "in traveling throughthe interior of China. I was for a long time stationed in India, andalthough I was placed upon the retired list nearly ten years ago, thespirit of the East has called me, its fascination has drawn me towardthe rising sun, ever since. I had traveled extensively in India, Siam,Persia and even Japan, and was familiar with most of the Chinese citiesupon and near the coast, but the interior was to me until last yearalmost a sealed book. My daughter and I arrived at Pekin early lastspring, and, after spending nearly a month in that city, we began anextensive trip toward the West. I had made somewhat of a study ofChinese, while in India, having always been attracted by the art andhistory of that remarkable country, and during our stay in Pekin, andlater, while traveling inland, I managed to pick up enough of the localdialects to make myself understood. We traveled on horseback, and had aconsiderable retinue of native servants which we took along with us fromPekin. The expedition was safe enough, barring the usual attempts ofsneak thieves upon our stores, and while to persons not accustomed totraveling in such countries the journey would no doubt have been full ofhardships, to us, familiar with such work, it was fairly comfortable. Wepaid good prices for what we bought en route, had no religious views topromulgate, and, by minding our own business strictly, we had no troublewith the natives of any serious moment. I had managed to pick up a fewsamples of old porcelain and one or two excellent ivories of great ageand beauty, but, beyond these, the trip had not yielded much in the wayof curios for my collection, when in June we reached the city of PingYang. We found this place peculiarly interesting to us, with apopulation noticeably different from the inhabitants of the seaporttowns, and we remained there perhaps a month. I spent a good deal oftime wandering about the town, looking at such examples of old bronzes,embroideries, curious bits of jewelry, etc., as I could find in theshops and bazaars, and I frequently had occasion to pass a small temple,maintained by the Buddhists in one of the lower quarters of the town.Not over half of the Chinese are Buddhists, as perhaps you may know, thenumber of devotees of that religion being considerably greater in thewestern and northwestern part of the empire, toward Thibet, from whichcountry the religion originally passed into China. This temple, ofwhich I speak, was a small one, but was notable because of the fact thata portion of the bone of the little finger of Buddha was preserved, orsaid to be preserved, among the relics of the shrine. I had frequentlyobserved the priest, who had charge of the temple, sitting sunninghimself outside its doorway as I passed, and on several occasions I haddropped some coins into his hand with a salutation which would beequivalent to our English good luck. One day when I was passing, Iremarked to one of my servants who was with me and who understoodEnglish fairly well, that I was curious to see the interior of theshrine, and he, after a conversation with the temple priest, informed methat, if I wished it, there would be no objection to my doing so. Ithereupon entered and found myself in a gloomy chamber dimly illuminatedby several oil lamps hanging from the low ceiling. Around the walls ofthe room hung some wonderful embroideries, which represented, so thepriest informed me, incidents in the life of Buddha. There were noseats, of course, and the floor was of hard-packed clay. At the centerof the rear end of the room was a high wooden screen, elaboratelycarved, and lacquered in dull red and gold. Through an opening in thisscreen I perceived a large bronze figure of the Buddha, before which wasarranged, upon the low altar, a profusion of flowers and food, offeringsof the faithful to the deity. There were a number of small candlesburning before the bronze figure, and behind and beyond it I saw a smallroom which evidently served as the living or sleeping chamber of thetemple priest. After he had shown me everything in the room with muchpride--he seemed a simple and earnest old fellow--I made ready to departand, before doing so, drew from my pocket a handful of the brass coins,called cash, with which you are no doubt familiar, and thrust them intothe old fellow's outstretched hands. He seemed deeply grateful and saida few words in his native tongue to my servant, who turned to me withthe information that the priest was about to accord me an especial honorby showing me the sacred relic of the Buddha. He approached the altar,and, taking a key from his girdle, opened a small gold box covered withwonderful repousse work, which stood directly in front of the sittingfigure of the god, and rested between his knees. Upon opening this box,he drew forth a small ivory shrine, also elaborately carved, which heset upon the top of the first box, and arranged so that the light fromthe candles fell upon it. He then opened the ivory box with a small goldkey, and I looked in. The relic of the Buddha, a small and insignificantlooking piece of dirty brown bone, I paid slight attention to, for inthat box, glistening and glowing with the most wonderful color in thelight of the candles, stood the emerald Buddha. The relic lay upon apiece of white silk, at the bottom of the box. There was a shelf in thebox, of ivory, half-way up its height, and upon this shelf, occupyingthe upper half of the ivory casket, stood the emerald, its brilliantcolor and marvelous workmanship rendered the more noticeable by thewhite background of the ivory. I inquired as to its history, through myservant, and was informed that it had been brought to Ping Yang manycenturies before, by the priest who brought the relic from Thibet andfounded the temple. He told me that it was an emerald, but neither thefact of its enormous size and value as a jewel nor its priceless beautyas an example of the most exquisite workmanship in the carving andcutting of gems that I had ever seen seemed to appeal to him. To him itsvalue was solely of a religious nature: it was a statue of the greatteacher, carved by some devoted worshiper or patient monk centuriesbefore, and had always been venerated, next to the relic, as the mostprecious of all the temple's possessions. I told my servant to ask thepriest if they would sell it, but he seemed disinclined to make therequest until I repeated my injunction rather sharply. When the messagehad been translated to the old man, he scowled darkly, his face lightingup with a look of sullen anger, and, hastily locking his treasures intheir double box, he turned without making any reply and began to usherus from the room. I repeated the request, this time using my own storeof Chinese, and drew forth a large roll of gold, but the priest waved measide with an angry word, which sounded like a curse, and pointed to thedoor. There was nothing left but to go, and I did so, though with thebitterest regret at leaving what I considered the most remarkable andunique of all the curios which I have ever seen in the whole course ofmy life and the one which I would have given most to possess. In thecourse of the next week I haunted the neighborhood of the temple, andseveral times, finding the old priest sitting beside the door, attemptedto repeat my offer, but he invariably drew back with a look of intensehatred, and refused to listen to me. Upon my fourth or fifth attempt Ifound him in company with several other Chinamen, evidently members ofhis sect, who regarded me with dark looks and muttered imprecations, andthe next time I appeared in the street I found myself surrounded byquite a mob of excited Chinamen who assailed me with fierce curses andcries, and even made as though to offer me personal violence
. After thisI felt that it would be unsafe for me to venture into that quarter ofthe town again, and a few days later, finding that even in othersections of the city I was regarded with evident suspicion and dislike,I decided to leave the place and return to Pekin. We left Pekin earlyin August, and, after stopping at several of the seaport cities,arrived early in October in Hong Kong where we made a stay of severalweeks. It was here that I met Robert Ashton who, like myself, wastraveling in China for the purpose of collecting rare examples ofChinese art, and who, I soon found, possessed an extraordinary knowledgeof the subject. This knowledge, which is not common among us in theWest, formed a bond of sympathy between us, especially in that countryso remote from home, where the sight of an English face and the sound ofone's native language are always so welcome. During our stay there wesaw a great deal of Mr. Ashton, and he soon became very attentive to mydaughter. She, like myself, has always felt a deep interest in Easternart, and seemed rather to welcome Mr. Ashton's attentions, and I wasgratified to think that in him I might find a son-in-law who wouldappreciate the collection, which has been my life work. I told him thestory of my experiences in Ping Yang, in which he seemed deeplyinterested. He informed me that, although he had been in the city, hehad never heard of the emerald Buddha. He intended going on to Pekinlater in the autumn, and proposed to me that he should attempt to securethe jewel for me. I told him that I regarded its purchase as impossible,but he only laughed and said that he felt sure he could secure it. Imade light of his claims, and, when he said in all seriousness one nightthat he would obtain it for me provided I would consent to his marriageto my daughter, I agreed at once, both because I felt his quest was anabsolutely hopeless one and because I saw no objections to him as ason-in-law in any event. I did not mention my agreement to my daughterat the time, not wishing it to appear to her that I was bartering her inreturn for a mere jewel. In fact I felt so certain that she wouldwelcome Mr. Ashton's advances that I preferred that she should remainin ignorance of my compact with him. A few days later he departed forPekin, and we returned home by way of India and Suez. On account of bothmy daughter's health and my own, we decided to take a house on thesouthwest coast for a time, my house in London being under lease for aterm of years, expiring this coming spring. Upon my return I questionedmy daughter with relation to Mr. Ashton, and was amazed and horrified tolearn that, far from regarding him with sentiments of esteem, she boretoward him a feeling almost of aversion. I explained to her the promisethat I had made which it was now too late for me to recall, and at myearnest request and almost at my command she wrote to Mr. Ashton,agreeing to abide by my wishes in the matter. That was six or eightmonths ago, and I heard nothing from him until two days ago when hetelegraphed me from Southampton that he had arrived in England andwould come to see me at once.
"His story, as he related it to me at dinner last night, was like anadventure from the Arabian Nights. After completing his business inPekin, he had set out upon his long journey to Ping Yang with only asingle native servant, a Chinaman from the south, a Confucian, who wasdevoted to him, and owed him a debt of gratitude for saving his life onone occasion. Accompanied only by this man, he penetrated slowly towithin about fifteen miles of the city of Ping Yang, and there, in asmall village, he lived for over a month, in an inconspicuous way. Hespoke Chinese well, and, with the assistance of his servant, got hold ofa dress such as is worn by the Buddhist pilgrim monks in China, who,casting aside the things of this World, spend their life in wanderingabout from shrine to shrine, living on the alms of the faithful andpreaching the doctrines of their religion as they go. In this dress,with shaven head and staff in hand, he had arrived, alone, in Ping Yangone evening at dusk and at once proceeded to the temple, the location ofwhich I had carefully described to him. Arriving at the door, with anoffering of flowers, he entered, and, prostrating himself before theshrine, seemed lost in prayer. There were a number of other worshipersin the temple at the time, and still others came and went as the eveningwore on, but Ashton continued in his place, muttering his prayers andpretending to be in great agony of spirit. Presently the hour grew lateand one by one the worshipers departed, until only Ashton and the oldtemple priest were left. The latter, in some impatience, came up to him,and informed him that the hour was late and that he had better continuehis devotions upon the morrow. Ashton pretended to be suffering fromsome sudden illness, and lay upon the floor moaning pitifully. As theold monk bent over him to see whether he could hear his muttered wordsAshton suddenly seized him by the throat, and with his powerful handschoked him into silence. He then gagged him with a piece of cloth whichhe had brought for the purpose, and, taking from his girdle the keys ofthe small shrine, proceeded to quickly open it and abstract the covetedemerald Buddha. Escape was easy. The old priest, unable to utter a soundwould be unable to give the alarm until the next morning, and by thattime Ashton, who had left his servant with their horses at a retiredspot outside the town, would be miles away, journeying peaceably towardPekin as an English traveler. His escape, however, was not to be soeasily effected. Whether the old priest penetrated his disguise as hesprang upon him, or whether the uproar into which the town was thrownreached the house at which the disguise had been assumed, he of coursenever knew, but it is certain that, after progressing toward Pekin fortwo days, they became aware that they were being followed by a numerousparty of Chinese upon horseback, armed with pikes, bows and arrows, andsome muskets. They got wind of the pursuing party before they themselveswere seen, and, swerving from the main road, abandoned their horses in alonely bit of wood, and while Ashton hid in the underbrush, his servant,after waiting until their pursuers had passed, went out and procured ata near-by village a set of Chinese clothing similar to his own, whichAshton donned after burying his own belongings in a swampy pond in thewood. From here on his adventures were exciting and varied, but as theyprogressed in a southeasterly direction they got beyond the zone whichhad been affected by the robbery of the temple, and at last succeeded inreaching the coast. From here they went north to Pekin, where thepseudo-Chinamen disappeared one night into the house where Ashtonmaintained his headquarters while in Pekin, and the next morning Ashtonappeared in European clothing, and began making arrangements to leavefor his long trip to England. The rest of the story you know. He arrivedhere last night, and this morning he was found murdered and the emeraldBuddha has disappeared. God knows what influences have been at work inhis taking off. As for me, I know no more about it than you do."
As Major Temple concluded his story, he gazed at Sergeant McQuade andmyself in turn, then passed his hand nervously over his forehead, asthough the strain of the tragedy had begun to tell upon him severely.
McQuade rose, and I did likewise, and, bidding the Major good-night weleft the room, leaving him sitting dejectedly enough, I thought, in hiseasy chair, patting the head of his great mastiff, Boris. It was pastmidnight when I left McQuade at the foot of the staircase, and, inspite of all the excitement of the day, I found myself so worn out thatI was asleep almost as soon as I had placed my head upon the pillow.
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