XII
тАЬThis is very kind of me,тАЭ thought Wilfred Chew, as he sat in the Seoul-bound train. The train lurched through the black world with an open-throated, gasping roar. тАЬI really seem to be a kind of guardian angel to these Russians.тБатАКтБатАж What would they do without me?тАЭ
As he thought of the Reverend Oswald Fawcett, who had warned him against every sin except complacency, the hundred and fifty yen that Ostapenko had given him seemed to lie not exactly heavily but perceptibly on his bosom. The money was a foreign body in his conscience, like a splinter of shell in a soldierтАЩs flesh. тАЬThere is nothing wrong in being paid for oneтАЩs services,тАЭ Wilfred replied to the shadow of the Reverend Oswald Fawcett. Poor Wilfred! his conscience was already a naturalised alien in his Chinese body. And now must his Chinese lips turn traitor and serve this Wesleyan conscience? His brainтБатАФChinese bornтБатАФLondon trainedтБатАФsought a compromise. тАЬMen are sometimes made use of, surely, by God for His purposesтБатАКтБатАж used, in fact, as angels or heavenly messengers, in answer to the prayers of unhappy people. Yet those men, so used, still have stomachs that must be filledтБатАФfutures that must be provided for.тБатАКтБатАж Why, donтАЩt you remember, Mr.┬аFawcett? there was a time when we prayed for more blankets for the school, and that very afternoon, in walked a coolie with a present of army blankets from the Dutch Consul. That gift was none the less Heaven-sent because we had to tip the coolie for bringing it. Money must passтБатАФeven between angelsтБатАФespecially when honestly earned.тБатАКтБатАж What else is money for? Money isnтАЩt always mammonтБатАФit is sometimes just simple food and lodging. To continue upon the earth at all, we guardian angels to simple barbarians must be paidтБатАФmust be fedтБатАФmust be kept alive.тБатАКтБатАж Of what use is a dead guardian angel to anyone?тАЭ
Wilfred, as a sort of challenge to the impassive ghost of Mr.┬аFawcett, elaborated this heavenly-messenger idea, which his mission training showed him in quite a literal aspect. An angel was to him as concrete as, say, a duck-billed platypus; he had been taught to believe in the actual existence of both, though neither had, in fact, crossed his path. тАЬPerhaps,тАЭ thought Wilfred, suddenly beginning to combine his mission-bred trustfulness with a sort of homemade mysticism, тАЬI am literally an instrument of Heaven, born exclusively for that purpose, brought into the world to straighten out the lives of these good Russians. How could you prove the contrary? Perhaps the angel that came to the Virgin Mary was an angel in the body of the local equivalent of a prenatal-care district nurse (no, Mr.┬аFawcett, it is not an irreverent thoughtтБатАФan angel in such a manifestation would be none the less an angelтБатАФwhy not?). For an angel to be visible, a body is necessary, and a body, being a worldly garment, must have a worldly justification. A minister, who lives, eats, is paid his salary, dies, rots away in the grave, you say is GodтАЩs representative in any communityтБатАКтБатАж how then should God clothe His messengersтБатАФHis materialized answers to prayerтБатАФin any other than a human body? How could those blankets have reached our school without a coolie to carry themтБатАФprobably a coolie who was looking forward to his dinner. How could old Mr.┬аMalinin receive his money from Seoul, or acquire a beautiful heiress for a daughter-in-law, without me? In all probability, many prayers rose up to heaven at the same time, and combined to elicit me, the common answer to all these prayersтБатАФold Mr.┬аMalininтАЩs prayer for his money; his prayer to be cured of his blindness (for the rubbing with putrefied fish is a tried remedy and may yet be successful); young Saggay SaggayitchтАЩs prayer to see the world; Mr.┬аOstapenkoтАЩs prayer that his daughter after seven failures might find a suitable husband; Miss OstapenkoтАЩs prayer that the curse of unwomanly coldness might be taken from herтБатАКтБатАж all these prayers, probably, rose in one breath to the Throne, and God sent one ingenious combined answerтБатАФme.тБатАКтБатАжтАЭ
Wilfred threw himself back on the vibrating railway cushions, defying the shadow of the Reverend Oswald Fawcett to find a fallacy in this modern and lucid argument.
тАЬAnd if IтБатАФWilfred ChewтБатАФwas born, educated in the Wesleyan Academy, enabled to study law in the Middle Temple, London, and be called to the Bar, simply to accomplish GodтАЩs purposes for these poor helpless RussiansтБатАФif this was GodтАЩs idea of a suitable education for His messengerтБатАФshall I be ashamed of supporting myself by means of the wits and the education that He has given me? Shall I refuse fair paymentтБатАФprostitute the advantages God gave meтБатАФbecome a beggar? You will be saying next that I should have refused the rather ample traveling expenses Saggay Saggayitch handed to me on starting. Traveling expenses are necessary, even to an angelтБатАФif that angel happens to be traveling in human form on wheels.тБатАКтБатАж Just so, similarly, God meant me to receive this commissionтАЭтБатАФhe smacked the wad of notes on his bosomтБатАФтАЬfor drawing up the agreement and arranging the marriageтБатАФjust as much as He created meтБатАФan answer to prayerтБатАФin human form and adorned me with education.тАЭ
There was no one else in that section of the compartment, and Wilfred took out the wad of notes and began counting them. The money, he was sure, was well earned; the notes had a righteous texture against his finger tips; and yet, as he ruffled them, he had a feeling that the shadow of the Reverend Oswald Fawcett in front of him was counting something beyond the notes in WilfredтАЩs handтБатАФand counting that something with a reproachful eyeтБатАФcounting the intentions, the financial hopes of WilfredтБатАФghosts of notes not yet paid. тАЬAnd what I say about this money I have in my hand,тАЭ persisted Wilfred to the reproving shadow, тАЬapplies with equal reason and force to the commission I intend to charge on the money I have been empowered to secure in Seoul. A just commission is in no way open to criticism. What is it but a dividend paid on that capital which we call education? Yes, it is true that the people I am acting for are ignorant people, incapable of checking my transactions.тБатАКтБатАж For that very reason I feel that the trust is sacredтБатАФthat I am a mouthpiece for babes and sucklingsтБатАФthat it is for me alone to appraiseтБатАФjustly and temperatelyтБатАФthe value of my services, and to reimburse myself with an honest moderation. If I were to leave the amount of my commission to that old Mr.┬аand Mrs.┬аMalininтБатАФthe one so confused and senile, the other so ardent and exaggeratedтБатАФthey would almost certainly offer me far too muchтБатАФprobably the half of their fortune. Even at that they would, definitely, gain by their association with me. But noтБатАФI will refuse everything that the unthinking ardor of gratitude may inspire them to offer me; I will turn away my face, kindly but firmly, as a messenger of God should, from all extravagant offers of reward. тАШNoтБатАФno,тАЩ I shall say, and nothing will turn me from my determination. NowтБатАФto enable me to afford this perfectly correct attitudeтБатАФwhat am I to do? What but pay myself, on a logically worked out basis, my exact commission on whatever I may get over and above old Mr.┬аMalininтАЩs expectationsтБатАФmy exact commissionтБатАФand not a sen more. The trust of these innocent barbarians in me is a challenge in itself; I would not betray it for all the silver in the Bank of Chosen. I intend to secure, on their behalf, as in honor bound by my divine trusteeship, every sen that I can. I am perfectly aware that old Mr.┬аMalinin would be quite satisfiedтБатАФquite unsuspiciousтБатАФif I returned to him with the original two hundred yen plus perhaps five and twenty yen as interest. He has no knowledge of the workings of compound interest. Shall I content myself with satisfying his innocent and humble hope? A thousand times no. I will make a rich man of himтБатАФthe comfortable founder of a prosperous family. My errand shall be successful beyond his wildest dreams. As an answerer of prayers I will give good measure, pressed down and running over. And who shall say that, for this useful service, I am not entitled to a fair percentageтБатАКтБатАж purely as a defense against the old manтАЩs extravagant gratitude? тАШNo, Mr.┬аMalinin, noтБатАФI do not need a sen more than what I have earned. Keep your money. Prosper righteously. Goodbye.тАЩтБатАКтБатАж I shall then withdraw like the heavenly messenger I truly am, leaving behind me all prayers answered, all troubles smoothed away.тБатАКтБатАжтАЭ
He threw himself back in his seat again, licking his gold tooth almost as though he were delicately showing the tip of his tongue to the ghost of the Reverend Oswald Fawcett.
тАЬOh nonsense!тАЭ he thought. тАЬWhy all this talk? After all, I am Chinese. Commission is the very lifeblood of China, yet Chinese are the most honest and trusted business men in the world; the honesty of Chinese business men is proverbialтБатАФeven in Bloomsbury I have heard talk of itтБатАФyet every Chinese business man takes his commission as a matter of course.тАЭ
He scanned the ghost again, and still his expatriated heart was not satisfied. тАЬWhy, canтАЩt you see how pure my intentions are toward the poor idiots? I like themтБатАФI am genuinely fond of that lumpy young Saggay Saggayitch. I really do mean well, and will do well by them.тБатАКтБатАж Why, look, I am traveling second class at this momentтБатАФnot first.тБатАКтБатАж Well, no, of course I shanтАЩt exactly give back the differenceтБатАФnot in so many coinsтБатАФyet traveling second in this way will allow me to spend more in Seoul on my employerтАЩs behalf. This in itself shows how disinterested I am. I know that I am sent by God to help them. I have proof of it, as follows: I have received direct promptings from Heaven. For instance, that fishтБатАФeven while Saggay Saggayitch was in the water catching that fish, I suddenly felt quite clearly that I had already dreamed that very scene; I knew at once that the heart, liver, and gall of the fish were to be preserved as gifts from Heaven. God sent that fishтБатАФhaving caused it to be miraculously caught round the waist (a most exceptional method) by Saggay Saggayitch, and I was warned in advance of the miracle by means of a dream. What does this prove? Does it not prove that I am GodтАЩs messenger to them? And not only that; I am genuinely fond of them; I wouldnтАЩt do them out of a sen. No, I wouldnтАЩt.тБатАКтБатАжтАЭ
The first light of dawn gave a curious false emphasis to various insignificant details in the compartmentтБатАФto inequalities in the stuffing of the cushionsтБатАФto spittoonsтБатАФto smears on the window-glassтБатАФto dust and dreary ornamentation. The ghost of the Reverend Oswald Fawcett faded from WilfredтАЩs moral sight as the light grew stronger and picked out more and more prosaically the details of his surroundings. He leaned back, feeling justified and sophisticated, and looked out of the window. Brown batwing villages, shadeless and lightless in the diffused drowned light of dawn, clung to the miles of dry green and yellow land. The first cooking-fires were being kindled in the clay stoves outside the cottage doors; smoke breathed in a cool blue haze through roofs. Scarlet peppers, spread out to dry on the roofs, looked almost grape-blue with the dew on themтБатАФthough when the sun should touch them they would wake to a Christmasy vermilion. MountainsтБатАФtheir earth wine-red as though clothed in heatherтБатАФcut the intensifying line of the horizon into a jagged zigzag. Out-of-doors always seems more essentially out-of-doors at dawnтБатАФnot, as in the busy afternoon, a mere extension of manтАЩs indoors. There was that aloofnessтБатАФunstained by humanityтБатАФabout the cold paling twilight of the land, that one sees in a wild animalтАЩs eyes.
Wilfred had replaced his well-earned money in his breast pocket, but he still held upon his knee four papers that armed him for his errand. Now, by that same first ray of the sun that lighted the eastern aspects of the western mountains as though they were candles, he reread these papers, in order to clarify his anticipation of the next few busy hours.
The first paper was a Power of Attorney signed by Old Sergei in favor of Seryozha. It had been drawn up by Wilfred himself from memory. Wilfred, of course, had only a haughty barristerтАЩs recollection of such a pettifogging paper as a Power of Attorney, yet, as he ran his eye over it, he congratulated himself on having composed an impressive echo of the real thing.
Know All Men by these presents that I Sergei Dmitrivitch Malinin of Chi-tao-kou retail merchant Do Hereby Constitute and Appoint my son Sergei Sergeievitch Malinin of Chi-tao-kou timberworker my true and lawful Attorney for the purposes hereinafter expressed that is to say In my name to receive the moneys deposited by me with Gavril Ilitch Isaev of Seoul hotelkeeper in July one thousand nine hundred and eighteen for investment in his business namely two hundred yen and interest accruing thereto and to give an effectual receipt therefor. And I hereby declare that this Power of Attorney shall be irrevocable for Twelve Calendar Months from the date hereof.
In Witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and seal this fourteenth day of September One thousand nine hundred and twenty eight. Signed Sealed and Delivered by the abovenamed Sergei Dmitrivitch Malinin in the presence of Anna Semionovna Malinina of Chi-tao-kou housewife.
Of the other papers, one was a note in Russian from Pavel Ostapenko to Gavril Ilitch Isaev, introducing Wilfred as the trusted friend, legal adviser, and man of affairs of PavelтАЩs cousin, Sergei Dmitrivitch Malinin, explaining young SeryozhaтАЩs nonappearance in Seoul, inviting Isaev to come to Mi-san for a few days and drink the health of PavelтАЩs newly married daughter, and cordially hoping that the news from IsaevтАЩs traveling son, Petya, was good.
The third paper was written in English by Wilfred and signed by Seryozha. It ran:
Dear Mr.┬аIsaev. Since it is impossible, for reasons explained by my father-in-law Mr.┬аOstapenko, for me to proceed to Seoul in person to discuss with you the final settlement of the transaction that took place between you and my father in July, 1918, I am placing my Power of Attorney in the hands of my fatherтАЩs friend and legal adviser Mr.┬аWilfred Chew of the Middle Temple, London, and should be much obliged if you would consider him as my fatherтАЩs agent in my stead, and either place in his hands the two hundred yen which you most kindly invested for my father on his last visit to Seoul and the interest accumulated during the interval, or else (and this would give me much pleasure) come yourself to Mi-san thus killing two birds in one bush, namely settling the financial transaction in person and enjoying my father-in-lawтАЩs unstinted hospitality.
The fourth paper was a greasy and laconic memorandum of receipt in Russian. Anna had translated it for Wilfred as simply, тАЬReceived from Sergei Dmitrivitch Malinin on July 12, 1918, two hundred yen for safe keeping. Gavril Ilitch Isaev.тАЭ
Seoul looked excited and glittering in the morning light. The sight of large, efficient-looking buildings and large efficient-looking English and American tourists made Wilfred strut, feeling himself a man of the world returned at last to his world.
He found his way, without difficulty, in a rickshaw to the IsaevsтАЩ hotel, a transformed Japanese inn. Like all Japanese houses lived in by non-Japanese, it had lost its light, kite-like lookтБатАФit was an architectural bird with clipped wings. Wilfred strolled up the steps, an upslanting cigarette in his mouth, and found Isaev in the hall, reading a Russian newspaper.
It was WilfredтАЩs misfortune always to remember people much better than they remembered him. He remembered Isaev as a human frog, a squatting pyramidal person with a moist shiny skin, and an immense slit-like mouth always gasping obscurely for air. Olga, IsaevтАЩs wife, was not present, yet Wilfred remembered her with an equal exactnessтБатАФa padded person, plump breasts padding her neat dress, secret cushions padding her neat hair, puffed smiles padding her cheeks. On her devolved all the acquiescences that Isaev never uttered; his attitude was a chronic No and hers a constant Yes. Wilfred had counted on laying his business before man and wife together. To find only Isaev present set him back a little, but he began with his usual affability, тАЬWe have met before, Mr.┬аIsaev. My name is Chew, Wilfred Chew, barrister, of the Middle Temple, London. I hope I am fortunate enough to find a room disengaged once more in your comfortable hotel.тАЭ
Isaev nodded uncertainly. All Chinese looked alike to him. His spectacles were made of very thick convex glass. He had a very thick and conspicuously shiny face; everything about him was thick and shiny. Attention was called to his surface in every way. Somehow Isaev could scarcely be imagined as hollow like other people; there could hardly be room for a brain between the thick walls of that skull, or space in that square inflexible breast for a heart to bound or flutter. His nose was a simple mass of shiny flesh, pierced by only the smallest and most rudimentary nostrils. He held his head back to look at Wilfred over his newspaper, under his spectacles, and across his wide sallow polished cheekbones.
тАЬWe have a room,тАЭ he said in English. тАЬHow long for?тАЭ
тАЬI have business in Seoul that should not keep me long. My business, as a matter of fact, Mr.┬аIsaev, is with you. Can you spare me half an hour now? Excellent. We have, as I mentioned above, met before.тБатАКтБатАж I was in Seoul only a few weeks ago, acting as secretary-companion to an English baronet. Sir Theo MustardтБатАФyou may have heard of him. However, in order to give our acquaintanceship a more personal flavor, allow me to hand you this noteтБатАФa letter of introduction from Mr.┬аPavel Ostapenko of Mi-san.тАЭ
Isaev took the letter with distaste and, holding his head up and the letter down, read it across the intervening area of his face.
тАЬI hates Pavel Ostapenko,тАЭ he said, simply, when he had finished it.
тАЬReally!тАЭ exclaimed Wilfred, pleasantly. тАЬWell, I can understand that there might be room for more than one opinion about his peculiar personality. He is a man of very strong character and such men commonly make a strong impression one way or the other. However, his letter will at least show you that I am no man of straw, being recommended by a substantial member of the community such as Mr.┬аOstapenko, you will admit, is, though his personality may not have a universal appтБатАФтАЭ
тАЬHis daughter is a bitch,тАЭ said Isaev in the same flat remote voice.
тАЬWell well,тАЭ said Wilfred, still courageously bright. тАЬAs to that, again, there might be a difference of opinion between friends on the subject of Miss Ostapenko, who is, like her father, an individuality both marked andтБатАФтАЭ
тАЬShe is a bitch.тАЭ
тАЬYou really think so? Well, your decided and original views on Miss OstapenkoтАЩs charm will no doubt add interest to the news I believe Mr.┬аOstapenko gave you in his letter. Miss Ostapenko was married only two days ago to my young friend Saggay Saggayitch Malinin. The name Malinin is, I believe, familтБатАФтАЭ
тАЬThis bitch treated my son very bad,тАЭ said Isaev.
тАЬIndeed I am deeply sorry to hear it, my dear sir,тАЭ said the tireless Wilfred. тАЬI remember hearing Mr.┬аOstapenko describing your son as a particularly fine young man. He is, I am sure, a credit to you, and though he may temporarily have fallen a victim to what is called in London тАШCupidтАЩs dartsтАЩ he willтБатАФтАЭ
тАЬBecause of this bitch,тАЭ said Isaev, тАЬmy son have joined the Chinese army.тАЭ
тАЬIndeed! Well, you know, boys will be boys. Your son is not the first fine young man who has turned from disappointed love to a military career, andтБатАФmark youтБатАФmade good.тБатАКтБатАж The soldierтАЩs profession is, after all, considered an honorable one, especially in your country, and I have no doubt that your son will distinguish himself and rapidly gain promotion. Perhaps, indeed, he will some day be able to look back with self-congratulation on his association with the OstapтБатАФтАЭ
тАЬHe is losed,тАЭ said Isaev. тАЬWe have losed our son. From the Chinese army Russians never come back. She is a bitch. The whole Ostapenko family is a bitch.тАЭ
тАЬAh,тАЭ said Wilfred. He clicked in his throat and a baffled tragic expression filled his face. Then, like a railway engine that has bumped against buffers, he drew several breaths and, having shunted himself out of this unpromising siding, started briskly off again on a new line.
тАЬBut this is all by the way. Perhaps I had better come to the business which brought me here. I will take a chair, if I may. How delightfully the morning sun illuminates this room! I referred just now to young Saggay Saggayitch Malinin. His nameтБатАФor rather his fatherтАЩs nameтБатАФis, I believe, familiar to you.тАЭ
тАЬNever in my life.тАЭ
тАЬIt will occur to you in a minute, I am sure, when I recall the circumstances. A busy man, I know, cannot afford to overstock his memory with unnecessary details. This Saggay Dmitrivitch Malinin, now a retail merchant in Chi-tao-kou, Manchuria, once paid a visit to you a long time agoтБатАФten years ago, to be exact, in July, 1918.тАЭ
Isaev was silent. Language had been given to him for the purpose of obstructing his fellow-menтБатАФnot cooperating with them.
тАЬAs I think I have already mentioned, Mr.┬аIsaev, I am a barrister, of the Middle Temple, London. Mr.┬аMalinin has constituted me his man of affairs. Having, by my advice, executed a Power of Attorney in favor of his son, Mr.┬аMalinin commissioned me to accompany this son to Seoul in the capacity of legal adviserтБатАФsince young Saggay Saggayitch has had no experience in business mattersтБатАФin order that I might make everything clear to you, and satisfy you as to the details and authenticity of his business with you. I hope I make myself clear?тАЭ
There was a long silence.
тАЬI hope, Mr.┬аIsaev, that you take my meaning.тАЭ
тАЬI not understand one word what you speak,тАЭ said Isaev, looking at him craftily.
Wilfred suddenly became wholeheartedly discouraged. The language bar again. He had no doubt whatever of his capacity to achieve anything at all that a fluent use of the English language could bring about. But remove words from a talker and where is he? This stopping of ears, by means of incompatibility of language, against a talker, is like the stopping of earths against a homecoming hunted fox.
Luckily, at this moment a half-seen piece of furniture, upholstered in striped linen, just inside an inner doorway, suddenly quivered, became human, advanced toward them and turned into Mrs.┬аIsaev. She said something hastily in Russian to her husband and then remarked cheerfully in English to Wilfred: тАЬAhтБатАФyou were here before, staying with us. WaitтБатАФI remember your nameтБатАФMr.┬аChew, is it not? We are glad of seeing you again, Mr.┬аChew.тАЭ
Wilfred, although he realized she had been listening and might have gleaned this information from what had been said, preferred to feel that he had made an enduring impression during his last visit. тАЬA charming woman,тАЭ he thought, building up her, as we all do, from that single flattering aspect of her that faced himself.
Just as a palaeontologist builds up a whole mountainous prehistoric beast from one bone, so we reconstruct our neighbors from a mere glimpse of a ghost. We are doomed to live among ghosts just as surely as we are doomed to see through our own eyes only. All are ghostsтБатАФthese loversтБатАФthese enemiesтБатАФthese passersby.тБатАКтБатАж We see them through the distorting lens of vanity. We traduce our neighbors by the senseless names of friendsтБатАФof enemies; we divorce them from their realities, bereave them of body, cut them off from their destinations and starting-places, make homeless ghosts of them. If they love us, they are darling ghosts to us; if they injure us, they are bogeys. Yet all the time something that is not a ghost lives at homeтБатАФfar from our sightтБатАФdark, changeless men and women built of blood and bone and burning egoism, creatures that neither love us nor hate usтБатАФnor even know our namesтБатАФthings that are, not things that are seen by us to be.
Wilfred lived his life largely backwards. The scenes his optimism anticipated glowed so gloriously, sparkled with so flattering a success, that the reality was almost always a diminishing, an anticlimax, a dim and inexact rendering of the bright foreseen eventтБатАФlike the creation of a defective memory, or like the telling of a good story by one who has forgotten the point.
This, the entrance of the acquiescent Isaeva, was the point at which the curtain rose on a scene that Wilfred had already rehearsed on the stage of his hopeful fancy. There had been nothing wrong with the rehearsals; here was the first public performance. WilfredтАЩs forward-hearing ear could hear his own voice reasonably explaining the circumstances of his missionтБатАФOld SergeiтАЩs loan and his wish for its return; he could hear IsaevтАЩs voice grunting agreement, IsaevaтАЩs voice confirming and gracing the accord. Wilfred could never anticipate counterarguments to his own logic; it was too faultless. He was not, therefore, surprised to hear the expected sound of success beginningтБатАФa coo of agreement from Olga Isaeva in reply to a grunt in Russian from her husband.
тАЬOf course we remember Sergei Dmitrivitch Malinin very good,тАЭ she said in English. тАЬMy husband has not at first understanded your pronouncing of the name. Sergei DmitrivitchтБатАФhow good did he behave to us!тАЭ It was almost impossible for Olga to speak without a smile, it seemed. тАЬMy husband knows business very good, but he speak English not so good. I can help you perhaps with my so poor English. You speak English so very good yourself.тАЭ
тАЬIt is no merit,тАЭ beamed Wilfred. тАЬI have been educated at the Wesleyan Academy in Yueh-lai-chou. I have also studied law for many years in London, and was called to the Bar there. I carry papers from Mr.┬аS. D. Malinin which I should like to bring to the notice of Mr.┬аIsaev and yourself. I am sure you will remember that, ten years ago, when Mr.┬аS. D. Malinin visited Seoul last, Mr.┬аIsaev was so kind as to take charge of two hundred yen which he undertook to invest for Mr.┬аMalinin in whatever way he thought fit. This was because Mr.┬аMalinin did not think it safe to carry his money in cash back to Chi-tao-kou (where there are no banking facilities), the times being then troublous.тАЭ
The couple murmured together in Russian for a moment, the wifeтАЩs face still armored by a smile and the husbandтАЩs by flat stupidity.
тАЬMy husband remembers this time quite good, Mr.┬аChew, but it was not quite as you think, he says. Sergei Dmitrivitch, who has been the brother of my husbandтАЩs oldest friend in Vladivostok, has gived us this sumтБатАФabout two hundred yensтБатАФin gratitude for my husbandтАЩs friendship with Mr.┬аMalininтАЩs brother who has died. When Sergei Dmitrivitch comes here we are very poorтБатАФour life is not goodтБатАФwe have runned away from the BolsheviksтБатАФwe have nothing. We live in a small room here in Seoul and we say, тАШWhat to doтБатАФhow to live?тАЩ Then Sergei Dmitrivitch says, тАШYou shall make a hotel. I shall give you two hundred yens because you are friends of my brother who has died. You shall borrow from the bank. Your hotel shall be good; you, Gavril Ilitch, are good with businessтБатАФyou, Olga Ivanovna, can cook good. Your hotel shall therefore be altogether good.тАЩ Oi! it was goodness that caused the good Sergei Dmitrivitch to give us this money. It has been the beginning of our hope.тАЭ
тАЬIt was certainly the act of a friend,тАЭ agreed Wilfred, a slight shadow crossing his face as he heard this unrehearsed interpolation. тАЬNothing in this life is more encouraging than the way in whichтБатАФif we live Christian livesтБатАФour friends come forward when we are in trouble and reward us for our past good deeds by trusting in our schemes sufficiently to invest in them. Without such friends, what should we do? How true is the Gospel saying, тАШIt is better to give than to receive.тАЩ Yet in this case, Mr.┬аMalinin saw that it was better still to invest than to giveтБатАФsince, in investing, one enjoys the combined pleasures of giving and receiving. His timely investment in your future placed your delightful hotel on its feet or rather foundations. I am very glad that you so deeply appreciate the friendliness and faith that he expressed in your business soundness by placing his savings in your care. This friendly spirit makes business so much easier. His was certainly a Christian act, and, since we are all Christians hereтБатАФGreek Orthodox being no doubt but another expression of similar great truths to the Wesleyan faith in which I was brought upтБатАФI am sure you will be sorry to hear that Mr.┬аS. D. Malinin, who was such a good friend to you in time of need, is now in very poor circumstances himself. He is a victim of blindness, and also of the local unrest in Chi-tao-kou which has caused his shop to be looted and his business most seriously affected. In fact, he has scarcely a bean, and it is for this reason that he is obliged to employ me in order to withdraw from your business the capital he invested in it ten years ago, together with interest accruing to same. Up to now he has been more than satisfied to leave the sum accumulating, at compound interest, in your competent hands. A sum of moneyтБатАФI see by this little ready-reckoner of compound interest which I bought at a money-changerтАЩs on my way here from the stationтБатАФdoubles itself in ten years. Mr.┬аMalininтАЩs capital, therefore, must by now amount to over four hundred yen.тАЭ
тАЬIt is a mistake,тАЭ said Olga, her smile becoming a little fixed, as though there were an invisible clamp at each end of her mouth. тАЬSergei Dmitrivitch, a so good man, must not wish to take away his good gift from us.тАЭ
тАЬMrs.┬аIsaev, the mistakeтБатАФa quite unimportant one among friends, but one that needs to be rectified at onceтБатАФis on your side. I have here a paper, signed by your husband and given to Mr.┬аMalinin, acknowledging the receipt of the money тАШfor safe keeping.тАЩ Your husband will remember signing this, I am sure. No one would sign such a paper in acknowledgment of a mere gift.тАЭ
Olga referred this to her husband in Russian, and, since he did not reply, she understood that he could not deny the authority of the receipt.
тАЬMay I please see this paper?тАЭ she said, charmingly. тАЬYou explain all so very good, Mr.┬аChew, yet it is good also to see, in order to understand yet more good.тАЭ
Wilfred spread the crumpled ten-year-old piece of paper on the table, pinning it down with a delicate finger and thumb, since, even among smiles and Christians, a man of law is always prepared for the worst.
тАЬAiтБатАФtwo hundred yensтБатАФgoodтБатАФgood,тАЭ she cooed, vaguely, as she leaned over the paper. Her fingers made a curious snarling gesture towards it which surprised Wilfred. тАЬA charming and sensible woman,тАЭ he thought, тАЬbut a little nervous.тАЭ
Isaev got up heavily and walked with a straddling gait across the room to look. The receipt was just as he rememberedтБатАФjust as he feared.
тАЬTwo hundred yensтБатАКтБатАж to keep safeтБатАКтБатАжтАЭ he sighed after a long silence, during which he returned to his chair. The clumsy impersonal settling of his wide buttocks in his chair looked as though some solid shiny Buddha in a large invisible grasp were being balanced on its pedestal again.
тАЬTwo hundred yensтБатАКтБатАжтАЭ repeated Olga, turning her smile upon Wilfred again after a murmured word or two with her husband. тАЬWell, perhaps we have make little mistake about the good giftтБатАФwe have thought Sergei Dmitrivitch a so good friend; he has said, тАШIt is a gift,тАЩ and we could not believe he shall ask to take away his gift. Now we understand. This is not friendshipтБатАФto give a gift and then to take away. It has not been love or gratefulness. It has been business. Our mistake has been because we have loved Sergei Dmitrivitch.тАЭ
тАЬIt was the beginning of your prosperity, my dear Mrs.┬аIsaev,тАЭ said Wilfred, throwing his hands apart and looking round as though to reintroduce her to all the family possessions in sightтБатАФthe spittoons, the ornate buffet crowded with bright bottles, the pots of ferns, the wobbly wicker tables, the blackwood chairs, the posters of the South Manchurian Railway and the British American Tobacco Company on the walls.тБатАКтБатАж тАЬWhat more could a friend do than help you to reach this luxury?тАЭ
тАЬTo say this is not good, Mr.┬аChew,тАЭ said Olga archly. тАЬWe have not luxury. We are poor. Yet my husband will, perhaps, when he is able to do without so much money, send two hundred yens to Chi-tao-kou, if Sergei Dmitrivitch, poor man, is now not in good position. Perhaps next year we shall try to afford to do this.тАЭ
Wilfred, by some freak in the angles of two mirrors in the room, had just caught sight of his own neat seated form in profile. Some of us, when we do this, have the feeling that we have caught ourselves out, that we have accidentally trespassed behind our own vanity. Not so Wilfred. He never caught himself out. All that he saw in that reflected Wilfred Chew who sat over there unconscious, as it were, of being looked at, pleased and encouraged him, buttressed him in his confidence. English clothesтБатАФa neat auburn tie just showing under the profile of the round chinтБатАФEnglish Panama hat held in a refined hand upon the kneeтБатАФEnglish words parting those superior smiling lipsтБатАФin that encouraging mirror Wilfred saw before him truly an angel on a mission of guardianship, a success among failures, a water-lily among frogsтБатАФall, in fact, that he hoped to be.
тАЬMr.┬аand Mrs.┬аIsaev,тАЭ he said, in a rather sharper voice, тАЬthere is no use in this beating about of birds in the bush. I speak now as Mr.┬аS. D. MalininтАЩs man of business. If you will think again, you will see that this is not a matter of two hundred yen to be sent in charitableness, when it can be spared, to a poor chap in China. This is a matter of the immediate withdrawal of a certain sum of money, Mr.┬аS. D. MalininтАЩs capital, from your thriving business, together with the interest that has accumulated in ten years. You have used this money, successfully and skillfully, in the building up of your business, but it is not your money and never was. It is perfectly easy for me to prove that hitherto there has been no consideration given in return for Mr.┬аMalininтАЩs two hundred yen. It was not a gift, and was never mistaken for a giftтБатАФthe terms of the receipt preclude that. Therefore it was an investment on which, though dividends have been earned, none have as yet been paid, and none demanded up till now. Here is this little book on compound interest which I mentioned before. According to that, since the time expired since the investment was made is just three months over ten years, the sum in question should now amount to four hundred and nine yen sixty-five sen. In the name of Mr.┬аS. D. Malinin, therefore, and of his son, Mr.┬аS. S. Malinin, who holds his Power of Attorney, I demand the immediate return of this moneyтБатАФnamely, four hundred and nine yen sixty-five sen. There is no matter of opinionтБатАФnothing good-natured or bad-naturedтБатАФthis is simply a business matter, and we are business men and woman who know that what must be must, and what doesnтАЩt want to be can be made to be.тАЭ
Both Isaevs looked at Wilfred astounded, OlgaтАЩs amiable mouth dropping open and her husbandтАЩs grim slit welded more tightly shut. From now on, a curious contradiction began to make itself feltтБатАФthat OlgaтАЩs radiant acquiescence somehow obstructed settlement, while IsaevтАЩs superficial intransigeance had the effect of advancing matters.
тАЬYou are a so good man, Mr.┬аChew,тАЭ said Olga. тАЬI know you will not be angry when I tell you how much you mistake. We are not prosperitous. We are full of misfortunes. That fire in our kitchen last yearтБатАФoi! how misfortunate. We have losed three hundred yensтАЩ worth of our kitchen propertiesтБатАФsaucepan, boiler, dishes, iceboxтБатАФall losed. Truly this is Sergei DmitrivitchтАЩs money that is losed.тБатАКтБатАж When he has given the money, he has said, тАШThis two hundred yens will pay your kitchen properties.тБатАКтБатАжтАЩ Now kitchen is burntтБатАФSergei DmitrivitchтАЩs money is losed. Poor IsaevтБатАФpoor MalininтБатАФit is truly misfortunate for both.тБатАКтБатАжтАЭ
Wilfred smiled a little insolently as he sat leaning forward, swaying his hat between his knees with his right hand, like a snake-charmer at work. He made no reply to OlgaтАЩs appeal. тАЬA pleasant enough woman,тАЭ he thought, тАЬbut rather a fool.тАЭ
Olga rose from the arm of her husbandтАЩs chair and fetched three glasses and a bottle of port wine. тАЬMr.┬аChew, you must please arrange this matter more good for us. You are our friend, tooтБатАФsee, now, you will drink with us. My husband cannot give this large number of yensтБатАФeven if enemy puts him in prison, he cannot give. But you are not enemyтБатАФyou are friend. I drinkтБатАФZa Vashe zdorovyeтБатАФI drink to you. It is business of lawyer and friend to arrange matters for his friends.тАЭ
тАЬWell, well,тАЭ laughed Wilfred, a little self-consciously. тАЬI admit that the few odd yen and sen make the business a little petty. Mr.┬аMalinin has given me carte blanche in the matter, and I should feel justified, I dare say, in accepting on his behalf the round sumтБатАФfour hundred yen. Mind you, in a court of law I could easily establish a claim for the full amountтБатАФbut this is not a court of law, it is simply a business matter discussed between two friendly parties who have no wish to injure each other by the bloody chopping off of a legal pound of flesh like Shakespeare.тАЭ
The Isaevs started nervously at this sudden change to the butcherтАЩs vocabulary. They watched his mesmeric swinging hat.
тАЬFour hundred yens not,тАЭ said Isaev, after a moment.
тАЬWhere is Sergei Sergeievitch?тАЭ cooed Olga. тАЬDid you not speak that he has come with? I am sure he is good friend like his fatherтБатАФlike his uncle.тБатАКтБатАж He will ask you, Mr.┬аChew, to arrange this matter more good for poor us. Why is he not here?тАЭ
тАЬAs to that,тАЭ said Wilfred, buoyantly, тАЬnothing can be easier to explain. Here is his letter. He is at Mi-San, having been married on Thursday, and hopes you will come and attend the subsequent festivities.тАЭ
тАЬMarried to Tatiana Pavlovna,тАЭ said Isaev. тАЬThe bitch.тАЭ
OlgaтАЩs white teeth showed in a widening smile. тАЬThen he is married to a not good girl, Mr.┬аChew. Because of Tatiana Pavlovna our son is now not good boyтБатАФgone away from usтБатАФsoldier in Chinese army. Surely Mr.┬аChew, you shall not ask us to help with our moneys to pay for this marriageтБатАФto help a not good girl who has behaved not good to our sonтБатАФthat she may have a husband.тАЭ Olga laughed, an open-throated laugh as though she had been outlining a delightful program. тАЬMust our familyтАЩs money help Tatiana Pavlovna who has harmed our family? Surely, Mr.┬аChew, you are too good and too clever a man to say this.тАЭ
тАЬTo begin with,тАЭ said Wilfred. тАЬIt is not your familyтАЩs money. It is Mr.┬аMalininтАЩs. To continue with, even if it were a fact that the money might help toward Saggay SaggayitchтАЩs wedding expenses, you should surely be the last to complain. Surely your dearest wish should be to hear of the marriage of this young lady you do not like, and her departure from Korea. Miss Ostapenko, having become Mrs.┬аS. S. Malinin and taken up her residence in ManchuriaтБатАФin a remote and inaccessible village, Chi-tao-kouтБатАФwhat then prevents your son from returning to his home? He went away to escape herтБатАФhe will return once she is removed.тАЭ
тАЬPetya return?тАЭ said Olga, putting her knuckles to her mouth with an incredulous gesture.
тАЬWithout a doubt. She has been a rose in his flesh. Or, as the proverb says, a rose between two thornsтБатАФone thorn being removed, he turns to the other.тБатАКтБатАжтАЭ
Once more the exuberance of his vocabulary baffled his hearers. A butcher at one momentтБатАФa botanist the nextтБатАФand yet, all the time, a lawyer really. Still, what he had just said made a great impression. It was a fact that Petya had said that Korea was not large enough to hold himself and Tatiana Pavlovna. Emptied of Tatiana, presumably, it would be just the right size for their son.
Isaev reread OstapenkoтАЩs letter and, with the murmured help of his wife, SeryozhaтАЩs English note. Olga sat upon the arm of his chair, her round cheek leaning toward his sparse hair. Wilfred walked over to show them the Power of Attorney. Their three heads bent together and they looked like an affectionate family group. The Isaevs could make nothing of the Power of Attorney, and still less after Wilfred had explained it. Isaev now realized that he was going to pay that moneyтБатАФor most of it. His slow brain was like a ship that does not answer readily to the helm, but which, when the continued insistence of the helmsmanтАЩs hand affects her course at last, applies herself with an obstinate and heavy exaggeration to the new direction. IsaevтАЩs mind was obsessed now by the necessity for hasteтБатАФby the fact that the bank would close early on Saturday. Only by going to the bank soon would he be able to conclude this tiresome necessity for talk and thought, and be left in peace to finish this Harbin newspaper account of a delicious scandal in the family of an ex-general.
Olga also knew now that the money must be paid, and she could scarcely endure the knowledge without screaming. Underneath this comfortable and well-filled outer woman was a straining, insatiable emptinessтБатАФa sort of spiritual sucking in, like the inhaling draught at the mouth of a sea cave. Olga had never given a gift or consented to a surrender in her life. Her charming and gentle eyesтБатАФalways alert behind their charmтБатАФwove a kind of web about her as she walked the worldтБатАФa web into which a flying miscellany blunderedтБатАФin which nothing came amissтБатАФand from which nothing ever escaped. Nothing ever went out of her predacious heart or hands. Even her love for her son, her tolerance of her husband, were predatory. Unswerving and ravenous purpose had arranged her face in those attractive and receptive contours, just as nature gives some tropical flowers a sensuous yet implacable appeal that lures insects into their trap. All OlgaтАЩs cupboards were filled with a great treasure of rubbish; her heart was stored with accepted giftsтБатАФwillingly or unwillingly given, but never returned and never paid for. Nothing came amissтБатАФa bribe, a compliment, an act of reluctant obedience, a gift of money, a gift of old newspapers, a declaration of love, a couple of celluloid hairpins left behind in a drawer by a guest.тБатАКтБатАж She went through her cupboards by day, thinking, mineтБатАФmineтБатАФmine; she went through her heart by night, still thinking, mineтБатАФmine.тБатАКтБатАж And every time her eyes rested on her ugly husband, she saw him as a fixture in her house, a symbol of property. She saw his hand as an extra hand of hersтБатАФa hand that must, on her behalf, receive money from strangers, carry that money to the bank, and push it over the counter into safetyтБатАФbut never write a check unless that check were written to earn more money.
And now, to think of something labeled mine suddenly changing its label to yoursтБатАФto think of that cramped auxiliary hand of hers forced to detach two or three hundred yen from the darling accumulation, to receive nothing in return except a dirty little forgotten slip of paper, made OlgaтАЩs heart swell with helpless fury. Yet still her smile corked up the ferment within her.
тАЬI could give,тАЭ said Isaev, slowly, тАЬone hundred and fifty yens today and, after not many months, perhaps, a hundred other yens. More than two hundred and fifty yens not.тАЭ
These words hardly seemed to Wilfred to make sense at all. Forgetting for a moment that he was a heavenly messenger, he wondered how the old frog could not understand that eventual repayment was notтБатАФfrom WilfredтАЩs point of viewтБатАФrepayment at all; that money handed over to the Malinins when Wilfred should be not there but in Shanghai, perhapsтБатАФLondon, perhapsтБатАФTimbuktu, perhapsтБатАФmight just as well be peanut-shells, for all the good it would do to the principal in the caseтБатАФWilfred Chew.
тАЬMy dear Mr.┬аIsaev,тАЭ said Wilfred, licking his gold tooth between puckered lips, тАЬlet us talk sense, please. You are not now buying a pianola on the instalment plan; you are returning to an investor his capital, with the interest due. Due, I repeat, that is to say, to be paid now. It is not a matter of next year or some time. Here I have a little piece of paper which it is to your interest to redeem. The moment my clientтАЩs money is in my hands I give you this piece of paper. You burn it. You are free of debt. You snap your fingers on the nose of the world. If you do not choose to hand over the money, I replace the little piece of paper in my pocket and have recourse to the law. I am a lawyer, your friend as well as Mr.┬аMalininтАЩs, and I assure you that you will have to pay in the end. Well, why not now? Why this undignified haggling? As I said before, Mr.┬аMalinin would adjust his convenience to yours to the point of suggesting a round sumтБатАФfour hundred yenтБатАФinstead of his exact rights. This sum I should take the responsibility of accepting on his behalf, butтБатАФтАЭ
тАЬI shouldтБатАФI adviseтБатАФI acceptтАЭ Olga archly mimicked him. Just as the work of a camera is, some think, a glance from the evil eye, so this sweet vehement parody of WilfredтАЩs voice seemed like the subtle curse of an evil tongue. тАЬMr.┬аChew, it is not our friend Sergei Dmitrivitch which speaks; it is you; it is you that wish to take the money from poor us; it is you that speaksтБатАФthat has power to arrange how much. Sergei Dmitrivitch is many far miles away from usтБатАФтАЭ
Isaev interrupted her; тАЬDa-da-da, Olga, he speaks. Why should he not speak? He is friend of Sergei DmitrivitchтБатАФhe speaks for him. Sergei Dmitrivitch is our friend. I hope then Mr.┬аChew will be so kind to be our friend, too. Mr.┬аChew, please thinkтБатАФlike our friendтБатАФlike Sergei DmitrivitchтАЩs friendтБатАФhow this matter can be finished. I treat you like friend. You are my guest hereтБатАФmy friend. As long as you stay hereтБатАФtwo dayтБатАФthree dayтБатАФI charge nothing. You are a friend.тАЭ
тАЬIt is most hospitable of you,тАЭ said Wilfred, rather frostily. тАЬBut on second thoughts, when we have settled this business I think I will not stay in Seoul. If we can reach the bank before it closes, I feel I ought to take tonightтАЩs train back to Mi-san.тАЭ
IsaevтАЩs face was quite animated now. He was like a pyramid tipped with sunrise.
тАЬWell, whether yes or no, I invite you like friend. If you speak no, still remember my hospitality has money value and what I offer to friend I do not take back. One week in my hotel I offerтБатАФone week, I think, twenty-five yens. See, I make you my guest if you go awayтБатАФif you stayтБатАФit is all the sameтБатАФyou are my guest and friend.тАЭ He laid twenty-five yen on the table beside him. тАЬWe shall better finish this matter now because the bank will shut door. Did you speak two hundred and seventy-five yens?тАЭ
тАЬMy dear Mr.┬аIsaev, I did not. On the contrary. You misheard me. I may have mentioned the sum of three hundred and seventy-five yen. This would I think be a reasonable compromise.тАЭ
тАЬOi-oi! Mr.┬аChewтБатАФremember how rich Sergei Dmitrivitch will be soon; he has now very rich son, married to that bitch. Plenty moneyтБатАФI think Pavel Nicholaievitch pay plenty money to have his daughter married at last. Sergei DmitrivitchтБатАФnow so richтБатАФwill not be made angry by little matters. Fifty yen moreтБатАФfifty yen lessтБатАФit is nothing to a man whose daughter is rich bitch. I also am business manтБатАФI am not made angry by small matters. If you come to bank now, I give you three hundred and twenty-five yensтБатАФthus all are gladтБатАФall are still friends.тАЭ
Isaev got up. Wilfred got up. Olga remained sitting on the arm of IsaevтАЩs chair, her fine eyes fixed on the two ten-yen notes and the five-yen note on the table. Wilfred, his affectedly wandering attention having been recalled by a murmur from Isaev, picked up these notes with a polite embarrassed laugh and, after flipping them about in the air for a moment to show that they were entirely irrelevantтБатАФin fact, nothing at allтБатАФput them in his pocket. OlgaтАЩs eyes were thus released from their spell. She looked wildly round the room for a minute and then followed the two men to the door.
тАЬAre you also coming to the bank with us, Mrs.┬аIsaev?тАЭ asked Wilfred, cheerfully. тАЬIt is indeed a fine morning for a little constitutional (as we call a walk in London).тАЭ
Olga gave a vague laugh and followed them into the street.
Wilfred and Isaev walked side by side, Olga a dozen paces behind. She looked intent, like a spaniel scenting gameтБатАФshe was following the scent of receding money.
тАЬI still hope,тАЭ said Wilfred, тАЬto persuade you to accept the invitation of Mr.┬аOstapenko and Saggay Saggayitch to return with me to Mi-san and take part in the marriage rejoicingsтБатАФand to satisfy yourself by eye that the dangerous young lady, Miss Ostapenko, is securely spliced.тАЭ
Isaev made no reply. The necessity for affability was over. He walked with an effort, heaving his heavy body, breathing asthmaticallyтБатАФnot only through his mouth and nose, but also, apparently, through his goggling eyes. Bicyclists, the most insidious danger to life in the Japanese Empire, slithered and glittered round him like eels round a rock. As he waddled across the wide shadow of one of the old serene squat gateways of Seoul, one could imagine that just so would the gateway itself advance behind its massive shadow, should those great red plaster bowlegged flanks be spurred with life.
The door of the bank was a triumphal arch for Wilfred. He was genuinely delighted to have secured a reasonable sum of money for that innocent old dotard, Sergei Malinin. He was pleased to have done well for himself, tooтБатАФtwenty-five yen here, a hundred and fifty yen on the marriage, his expenses during these weeks, and fifty sen a day, and finally the promised ten percent on the unexpected hundred and twenty-five yen he should bring back. Over two hundred yen altogetherтБатАФand all earned in a perfectly correct Wesleyan manner, thought Wilfred, looking defiantly right and left along the hygienic perspectives of the bank. And he saw, drooping courteously over the far end of the counter, in conversation with one of the Japanese clerksтБатАФthe Reverend Oswald Fawcett! To be sure, Wilfred knew as certainly as he could know anything that Mr.┬аFawcett was at present on a walking tour in the English lake country. Yet there he wasтБатАФor at least here, in the bank, was oneтБатАФan angelтБатАФa ghostтБатАФclad in the limp duck suit affected by WilfredтАЩs dear pastorтБатАФwilting, stooping, seeking support, giving, even across these wide spaces, the impression of being defective in eye, in teeth, in complexion, in hair, yet somehow armored with a sort of pale pre-Raphaelite brightness.тБатАКтБатАж тАЬA visionтБатАФa vision,тАЭ thought Wilfred, and stood frozen, face to face with his conscience across the throne-room of Mammon. By a sort of divine imperialism, the foreign conscience, sitting uneasily in WilfredтАЩs Chinese nature, armed itself, just as ShanghaiтБатАФthat anomalous growth grafted upon a Chinese mudbankтБатАФin time of trouble, blossoms forth with Aldershot machine-guns. So, in the brain behind WilfredтАЩs narrow bright eyes, the still small voice of conscience said, with the faint Lancashire accent that distinguished Mr.┬аFawcett, тАЬWilfred Chew, what would Jesus say?тАЭ There was, unfortunately, no doubt what Jesus would say. Jesus was an Oriental like Wilfred himself, as Wilfred had often thoughtтБатАФbut an Oriental who never seems to have had any idea of the value of money. With oneтАЩs brain, which is Mammon, one earns money; with oneтАЩs heart, which is Jesus, one gives it back. It is lucky, thought WilfredтАЩs slightly mutinous brain, that the voice of the heart is still and small, and not too often heard, for to obey it is expensiveтБатАФand when that still small voice is heard, it is heard above all greater noisesтБатАФacross wide spaces filled with the clinking of money.
Wilfred hurried, borne on charmed feet, to the side of Isaev, who was leaning his iron diaphragm against the mahogany flanks of the counter.
тАЬTake this twenty-five yen, Mr.┬аIsaev,тАЭ mumbled Wilfred in an uncertain hurried voice. тАЬI made a mistake. It is part of Mr.┬аMalininтАЩs capital. Three hundred and fifty yenтБатАФthat is the sum due to my client.тАЭ
IsaevтАЩs brain moved slowly, but his hand accepted the money and laid it upon the sheaf of notes already on the counter.
тАЬBe so kind as to give us an envelope,тАЭ said Wilfred to the Japanese cashier. And when the envelope was brought, he added, between lips still slightly trembling, тАЬBe so kind as to give us a stalk of sealing wax.тАЭ
The flaming stick of wax, like the flaming sword of the angel of Eden, barred Wilfred away from his treasure. тАЬNow I will write,тАЭ he said, and he wrote on the sealed envelope, тАЬContents: three hundred and fifty yen, being Sergei D. Malinin Esq.тАЩs capital returned in full, with interest, by G. I. Isaev, Esq.┬аSigned, Wilfred Chew.тАЭ He put the bulging envelope in his breast pocket and handed Isaev the original receipt. Only then did WilfredтАЩs eyes seek along the counter for the vision of his conscience. The figure was gone. A slight radiance seemed to Wilfred to remain. But on the steps outside the tall figure of a stranger stood, wagging a ridiculous sunshade at a rickshawтБатАФobviously the figure of a Frenchman, with a long drooping mustache and the pulled-down bloodshot eyes of a bloodhound. Wilfred saw at once that this was his angel; from within that crumpled duck suit, that sallow skin, his vision of the Reverend Oswald Fawcett had glowed. тАЬCertainlyтБатАФcertainlyтБатАФit was a vision; a miracle purposely dazzled my eyesтБатАФotherwise I could not have made such a mistake. Ah, I have been good, I have been good.тАЭ WilfredтАЩs happy heart chanted. тАЬIt shall be said of meтБатАФтАШWell done, thou good and faithful servant.тАЩтАКтАЭ His happy heart, washed by the sacrifice, sang, as it were, in its bath.
At the foot of the steps Olga Isaeva stood, her eyes glowing at the two men from a rigid face. тАЬThe money is paid?тАЭ she asked in a high soft voice of her husband.
тАЬDa-da-da,тАЭ said Isaev calmly, and showed her the returned receipt.
тАЬTschah! you filth!тАЭ shouted Olga suddenly, and spat at WilfredтАЩs waistcoat. She turned to her husband and slapped his face, shouting a few shrill confused insults in Russian. Then words failed her. тАЬAhтБатАФahтБатАФah!тАЭ she screamed, and swayed about, wringing her hands. Several rickshaw coolies, foreseeing that this curious seizure would end in physical collapse, came and laid the shafts of their vehicles invitingly at her feet. About forty Japanese bicyclists alighted and stood round the party. The Frenchman, thanking God that he was French, bowled away in a rickshaw; the thin prancing brown legs of the coolie, seen from behind, seemed to be attached, in skittish incompatibility, to the long drooping torso of the passenger.
Olga disregarded her public. She strode over the rickshaw shafts and hurried away down the street, still ejaculating, AhтБатАФahтБатАФah! and slapping her clenched knuckles of one hand into the palm of the other.
Wilfred was paralyzed with astonishment. Feeling quite sure that Olga Isaeva liked him, he could only suppose that she was suffering from some kind of fit or convulsion. Isaev stood looking mildly at the tattered receipt in his hand, as though wondering whether something in its wording had provoked her. He remained on the lowest step of the bank for a few minutes, as though built there, the thin, craning coolies standing round him like scaffolding. тАЬMy wife is sometimes a little bit angryтБатАКтБатАжтАЭ he said.
After a moment he began. тАЬTonight my wife willтБатАФтАЭ and stopped, evidently feeling that what he had begun to say was not worth finishing. Then he said, firmly, тАЬI think I come with you to Mi-san tonight, Mr.┬аChew, yesтБатАФno?тАЭ