Rice Papers. Hugh Leigh Norris
considerably frightened, for if my employer returned and found these iron gates closed he would know that someone had been using his table without authority. However, on jerking the handle I had moved in an opposite direction, the iron gates disappeared into slots in the passage, and my uncle entering within a few minutes, any discussion that might have taken place among us was rendered impossible. Whether this incident occupied the minds of the other clerks I know not, but it kept me awake for nights, and I determined that, should occasion arise, I’d investigate the matter further. For some days no opportunity arose, but after about ten days my uncle was obliged to go to dinner in another part of the city with certain wealthy merchants, and he left me in charge. Now was my chance—the other clerks were only too glad to get away—so soon after dusk I was alone in the office, sitting at the big black table with only a small oil-wick to light the place. For a time I smoked quietly, and when all seemed quiet I turned the handle as before. Instantly the iron gates shut-to. I reversed the handle, and they opened. Then I tried other handles—some were simply fixed on locked drawers—but after twisting one I heard a heavy mass fall in the passage. I went to the bars with the dim oil-lamp and gazed down into a dark chasm which would make even a Chinaman shudder. I quickly returned and reversed the handle, and on again looking through the iron bars by the light of the oil-wick, I saw that the passage was once more restored with an even floor. I then reversed the handle, which made the iron doors disappear from view, and further examination of this interesting table revealed only locked drawers, in one of which I knew my uncle kept his revolver, for when in the streets he was only in the habit of carrying a knife concealed in his sleeve. After this eventful evening of big discoveries I began to mature a plan of revenge. I had by this time accumulated a few dollars, and as I was allowed considerable liberty, I could go out in the city nearly every night. One night I went out with all my dollars and purchased a shining nickel-plated revolver. The shopman wanted me to buy some cartridges as well, but I was rather afraid of them, and said that I had plenty of cartridges at home. Carefully concealing the weapon, I returned with a feeling of some slight exultation to my business house. An opportunity of carrying out my revenge occurred the very next day, my employer again going out to dinner; and later I seated myself at his table with my pistol to patiently await his return. Then for the crowning moment of my life, when I should have the cringing villain howling to me for mercy. I thought of all the cutting speeches, the recital of my wrongs, and then of the horrible climax and devilish punishment that I would mete out to him. In this way the hours of waiting passed most pleasantly.”
“I don’t doubt it for a moment,” says the surgeon quietly.
Fung Wa Chun lit another cigarette, sipped his drink, and with his face as expressionless as a bronze Buddha, continued:—
“At last I heard his footsteps on the stairs. My heart gave a jump. One step, two steps, three—would he never reach the landing? Then a pause and a faint chuckle. My revered relation was evidently slightly drunk. My hand trembled on the handle lest I should close the gates before he reached the landing. This staggering and halting was annoying, it made it difficult to count how many steps he had come up. He occasionally slipped back one, and I was getting into a fever of excitement, for the dim oil-wick I was using failed to illuminate the passage. Now he was standing on the stair and chuckling drunkenly to himself, curse him! Part of my revenge would be foiled by his having fuddled his wits with wine. I wanted him to feel all, every bit of it, and acutely too—now, perhaps, his sodden intellect might not appreciate all the refinement of horror I had stored up for him. After what seemed several minutes the sounds led me to suppose that he’d reached the top step, and there he stopped to cough and breathe hard. Then he staggered along the passage. My heart was thumping at my chest, I scarcely dared breathe. At last the moment had come. Turning the knob I heard the gates clang together, and seizing my pistol and the lamp I rushed to the grating. Inside I could see him, dazed and leaning against the wall, but no fear, no terror, only a silly drunken laugh as before. The dim light did not show his face. How was I to let him know in this his drunken state that it was I, the down-trodden servant, who was at last to hold him in this awful power?
“Gently I spoke to him, saying, ‘It is I, most honourable uncle, it is the despised and insignificant Fung Wa Chun, who presumes to address your august personage.’ ‘Let not the honourable Fung Wa Chun be afraid to disclose the gentle thoughts that are concealed in his honourable bosom,’ said a voice behind me. I turned in abject horror, my heart stopped beating, and there I saw my uncle, seated at his table, calmly pointing his shining pistol at my breast. ‘Oh, intellectual and far-seeing Fung Wa Chun,’ he murmured, ‘did you suppose that my secret agents served me so ill that I did not know that you had discovered the secret of the passage? Do you think that I was not aware of your purchase of that remarkably handsome revolver you hold in your somewhat shaky hands?’ I flung the thing from me, for I was angry, and perhaps showed unbecoming heat in my reply as I said, ‘Your deeply learned remarks are as lost on my degraded ears as the singing of the trimetrical classic would be unconvincing to the ears of a deaf monkey.’ My uncle smiled and said, ‘First I will release my honourable friend Su Wing, and then we will talk seriously.’ He pressed the button, and the inebriated Su Wing stumbled into the room, and falling into a chair, assumed an air of owlish content. My uncle then continued, ‘For one who has attempted violence on myself I seldom show mercy—the sliding floor of yonder passage could tell some curious tales. But, dear nephew, I’ve for some time observed you and your ways, and have been minded to adopt you as my son and make you my heir. I prefer to be served by fear rather than love; that you do not love me to-night’s business has proved, but that you fear me I now feel fairly certain. Therefore, I spare your life. Know, gentle nephew, that the few secrets you have discovered are nothing to what this house contains, but your future exalted position will make my spies doubly zealous in observing your every action, so to-morrow I shall publicly adopt you as my son, feeling confident that from fear you will prove a faithful if not loving descendant. Now go!’ I went to bed feeling as one who has been condemned to death and unexpectedly reprieved. That my uncle would kill me when I was discovered I had no doubt, and now finding myself released and free my sensations were more than I can describe. Bewildered, I stumbled to my bed, and almost at once fell into a deep sleep.
“What happened in the office no one knows, perhaps my uncle caroused with the bibulous Su Wing; at any rate, I was awakened from a deep sleep by a cry of fire, and found that our extensive premises were well in the power of the flames. All efforts to suppress the conflagration were vain; and next morning I, who had every prospect of being heir to a large estate, found myself homeless and penniless in Hong Kong. My uncle and the bibulous Su Wing were both presumably victims of the disaster, and I could lay no claim to a single cash saved from the ruins. For three days I nearly starved trying to find employment in Hong Kong as a clerk, and finally, to earn rice, I was obliged to take service in the police as a “lukong” or native policeman. The open-air life pleased me, but there was little money in the trade, and having no credentials, I could get nothing better, although my knowledge of English got me speedy advancement, such as it was. For some years I remained in the police, until an incident happened which made it possible for me to leave the service.
“The incident referred to happened in this way. Being on duty after midnight in the western part of the town, I heard a noise going on in a side street. I went cautiously (as our manner was) up the street, and found a well-dressed European being attacked by two chair-coolies. As soon as he saw me he shouted for help, and the two coolies ran away. I rushed up at once, and seeing the street was quite empty and that the European was nearly spent, I drew my sword and gave him a slash over the head. He dropped like a log, and I had sufficient experience in these matters to know that I’d killed him. A hasty examination of his pockets revealed a large wad of Hong Kong and Shanghai bank-notes, a gold watch and chain, and a large diamond ring on his right little finger. The notes and ring I took for myself, leaving some five dollars in loose cash in his pockets, also the watch, as I did not wish it to appear that he’d been robbed. As I removed the finger-ring I noticed that a white band remained on his little finger, as his hand was much tanned by the sun. Again my sword came in useful, and I chopped off his little finger, and threw it down a drain, at the same time blowing my whistle loudly. I was soon joined by another lukong and a European policeman. Having explained that I’d just found the man in this condition, we carried him off to the police-station. A great hue-and-cry was raised for his