Doctor Nikola (Windsor Magazine, 1896)/Chapter 9
CHAPTER IX.
THE LLAMASERAI.
“Come,” said Nikola when the last sounds of Edgehill's departure had died away; “there is no time to lose; let us dress.”
I followed him into an adjoining room, which was rather larger than that in which we had hitherto sat and even more sparsely furnished. Here a number of dresses lay about on chairs, and from these Nikola chose two.
“The first thing to be considered,” he said as he seated himself on a chair and looked at me, “is that we have to change the form of our disguises in almost every particular. I have been thinking the matter most carefully out, and, as I said just now, we are going to be entirely different men. I shall be the priest of Hankow, you will be his secretary. Here are your things; I should advise you to dress as quickly as you possibly can.”
I took him at his word, and appropriating the garments he assigned to me, returned with them to the front room. At the end of a quarter of an hour I was no longer an Englishman. My dress was of the richest silk, figured and embroidered in every conceivable fashion, my shoulders were enclosed in a gray cloak of the finest texture, my pigtail was of extraordinary length and thickness, while my sandals and hat were of the finest make. If my rank had been estimated by the gorgeousness of my attire and material I might have been a Taotai of some small province, or secretary to some metropolitan dignitary. When I had dressed myself I sat down and waited for Nikola to make his appearance.
A short time later a tall gaunt Chinaman, certainly fifty years of age, upon the chin of whose weather-beaten countenance an ill-trimmed beard showed itself, came into the room, accompanied by a smaller man much bent with age. I was resolved not to be hoodwinked this time, so I said in Chinese to the man who entered first—
“You've not been long in getting ready.”
“It would be folly to be slow,” he answered; we have much to do,” and then without another word he led the way down the passage towards the rear of the house. Arriving at the yard we discovered a perfect cavalcade drawn up. There were several led ponies, half a dozen mounted men, and about twice that number of hangers on.
“One word,” I said, drawing Nikola as I thought on one side. “What part am I to play in this pageant?”
“Is there not some little mistake?” the man said. “For whom do you take me?”
“For my master,” I answered.
“I'm afraid you have pitched upon the wrong man,” he returned. “If you want Dr. Nikola there he is mounting that pony yonder.”
I could hardly believe my eyes. The second man resembled Nikola in no possible particular. He was old, wrinkled and nearly bent double. His face was more like a sundried crab-apple than a human countenance, and his eyes were much sunken as also were his cheeks. If this were Nikola he might have gone through the whole length and breadth of China without his identity being once questioned. I went across to him and, scarcely believing my own eyes, addressed him as follows:—
“If you are Nikola,” I said—“and I can hardly credit it—I want you to give me my instructions.”
“You don't recognise me then?” whispered the real Nikola. “I'm glad of that; I wanted to try you. I thought to myself, if he does not find me out it is scarcely likely that anyone else will. Your own disguise is most excellent; I congratulate you on it. With regard to your position, you are of course supposed to be my secretary. But I will give you a few pointers as we proceed. Now let us be starting.”
“But first, who is the man whom I mistook for you?”
“He is a fellow whom I picked up while you were ill; he was recommended to me by by person I can trust, and as I have taken means to ensure his fidelity you need have no fear of his betraying us. He will only accompany us as far as the Llamaserai, and then, having posed as a chief of my retinue, he will leave us. Now mount your animal and let us start.”
I went back to my pony, and when I was in the saddle we slowly filed out of the gate way, down the crowded street and through the gates towards the Yung-Ho-Kung, or the great Llama temple. This enormous building, which has the reputation of being one of the most inaccessible places in China to Europeans, is situated on the outskirts of the city, nearly five miles from the quarter in which Edgehill's house was situated. It can be seen for miles, and is as dangerous a place as it well can be.
Remembering this, you may imagine the sensations which animated me as we rode up to the first great gate. I could not help wondering what the Fates had in store for us inside. For all I knew to the contrary I might be destined never to see the world outside the walls again. It was not a cheering thought and I tried to divert my attention from it by looking about me.
Strangely enough the first two gates were by no means difficult to pass, but at the third the real difficulty began.
The next door was shut in our faces, and though we knew our coming had been observed by those inside, not a sign of any living soul presented itself. An awe-inspiring silence reigned in the great building, and for some time our servants hammered upon the door in vain. Then a shaven head appeared, and looking through a small grille inquired our business.
Whether the answer he received was satisfactory or not I could not say, but seeing that it did not unbar the gate Nikola rode forward and leaning over in his saddle said something in a low voice. Instantly the doors flew open. Then a man came forward and assisted Nikola to alight. He signed to me to do the same, and I accordingly dismounted and stood beside him. As I did so a servant approached him and greeting him with the utmost reverence, never daring to raise his eyes to his face, said something to him which I could not hear. When he had got through with it Nikola turned to the man whom I had mistaken for himself in the courtyard at Pekin, handed him some coins, and said—
“Your mission is accomplished; here is payment; now begone.”
Without waiting for further instructions the man collected the little band of servants and, placing himself at their head, rode off. Then turning to the monk who was still waiting, Nikola said, pointing to me—
“This is my secretary. He is necessary to my well-being, so I beg that he may be allowed to enter with me.” The monk nodded, and then the gate being opened wide we passed through! it. Having done so we ascended, by means of a long flight of stone steps, to a large courtyard, round which were a number of small stone rooms not unlike cells. In the centre of this yard was an enormous wooden statue of Buddha which riveted the attention at once; he was at least 70 feet high, was covered with all sorts of beautiful ornamentation, and held an enormous flower resembling a lotus in either hand. On his head was a large gold crown, and in each section of it I could discern a smaller image, reproducing the large one in every particular.
Above the cells just described were a series of long galleries, which were reached by stairs from the courtyard, and above them again rose roof [after roof and tower after tower. From this terrace, if one may so call it, we passed on to another, the approach to which was guarded by two magnificent bronze lions. Then through temple after temple, each decorated with Chinese hangings, ornaments in gold, silver, ivory, bronze and enamel, we made our way. In the last of these we were requested to wait while our guide, who was evidently a person in authority, went off to find the high priest.
For nearly twenty minutes we were left alone together. The place was eerie in the extreme, A soft wind entered and rustled the long silk hangings; there was an intolerable odour of joss-sticks; and besides all this we had the pleasure of knowing: that we were only impostors, dependent upon our own wits for our safety, and, for the matter of that, even for our lives. If but one suspicion entered the minds of those we were among we might consider ourselves as good as dead men. In such an enormous building, unvisited by foreigners, and owning hardly any allegiance—if indeed such a feeble reed could help us—to the Emperor of China, the news of our deaths would excite no concern, and we would be as completely lost as the bubble which rises majestically, only to finally burst unnoticed in mid-air.
As I watched the morning light playing amongst the hangings and listened to the booming of a gong which faintly percolated in to us from some distant part of the building, I could not help thinking of the sweet girl to whom I had plighted my troth, and who at that very self-same moment might also be thinking of me and wondering what I was about. That I did not deserve such consideration on her part was only too certain, for never surely in the history of the world had a man embarked upon a more foolish undertaking than I had done. Columbus in his lonely little ship ploughing its way across the unknown ocean in search of land, the existence of which at times he almost doubted himself, was not one whit less desperate than we were at that moment. Franklin amid the ice, unconscious whether another week might not find his vessel ground to powder between the ice floes, and himself floating with his dead face turned up in the icy water, was not one tittle nearer it than we were while we waited for an audience with the father abbot of this most curious monastery.
At the end of the twenty minutes my ears—which of late had been preternaturally sharp—detected the pattering of sandalled feet upon the stone staircase at the farther end of the room. Next moment three figures appeared, two of whom were leading a third between them. The supporters were young men in the prime of life. The third must have been at least nearly eighty years of age. One glance was sufficient to show me that he was not a pure Mongol, but had evidently Thibetan blood in his veins. Both he and his monks were attired in the usual coarse dress of the Buddhist priests, and very soon I discovered that their heads were as destitute of hair as a billiard ball.
Having brought the old fellow down to the bottom of the stairs, the young man left him there, and returned up the steps again. Then it was that we made the discovery that, besides being old and infirm, the high priest of the Llamaserai was also blind. He stood perfectly still for a moment after we had entered, a queer trembling figure, dressed all in yellow. From his chin depended a long gray beard that reached almost to his waist. When our arrival had been made known to him he moved his head in that way peculiar to the blind, and finally, with hands outstretched, came softly towards where we stood.
“I beg you tell me,” he said, “who you are, and how it comes that you thus crave our hospitality?”
He put the question in a high tremulous voice, more like a woman's than a man's.
“I am the high priest of the temple of Hankow,” said Nikola gravely. “I believe my arrival is expected.”
“If it is as you say how shall I know you?”
“Is the moon no longer aware that there are little stars?” asked Nikola, speaking with a perfection of accent that no Chinaman living could ever have excelled.
“The dawn makes all things equal,” replied the old man. “But there are other means whereby we can tell those who are true or not.”
Nikola slipped his right hand inside his long outer jacket and drew from his pocket the little tiny stick he had obtained from Wetherell and handed it to the old man. No sooner had he received it, and run his fingers over the quaint Chinese characters upon it, than the old fellow's demeanour changed entirely. He had examined it for some time, then down he dropped upon his knees and kissed the hem of Nikola's dress.
“If my lord had only said at first,” he whimpered, “that he was doing his servant this honour he would not have been made to wait. Will my lord step this way?”
As he spoke he tottered again towards the staircase by which he had entered the room. Nikola signed to me to follow him, and in single file we made our way to the room above. As we went I could not help noticing the great solidity of the building. The place might have withstood a siege with the greatest ease. The walls were in many cases 2 feet, and in not a few nearly 3 feet thick.
The stairs conducted us to a long passage, on either side of which were small rooms or cubicles, made by partitioning off a long room with screens made of coarse matting. Proceeding through this room we approached another flight of steps which led us to the highest floor of the building. At that end of a long corridor was a small ante-chamber hung round with dark coloured silks, just as we had seen in the great hall below. From this we entered another nearly twice the size of the first, which was lighted with three narrow windows. From one of these I noticed that a good view of the city of Pekin was obtainable.
As soon as we were safely inside the chief priest exclaimed in a quavering voice that everything we might find in his humble dwelling was at our disposal, and that we might consider his rooms our home during our stay in the monastery. Then, with another expression of his deep respect, he left us, presumably to see that some sort of meal was prepared for us. As soon as his steps had died away down the staircase Nikola leaped to his feet.
“So far so good,” he cried. “He does not suspect us you see, and if I can only get him into the proper frame of mind I'll have the rest of the information I want out of him before he can turn round.”
For the rest of that day we amused ourselves perambulating the building, walking slowly with dejected bearings whenever we met anybody, greeting the various shrines with deepest reverences, prostrating ourselves at the different altars, and in every way, so far as lay in our power, creating the impression that for good religionists we were without our equal. At five o'clock we participated in the usual evening service held in the great hall, and for the first time saw the mass of monks assembled together. A more disreputable looking crew I can unhesitatingly assert I had never seen before. They were of all ages and of all ranks, but, so far as I could see, there was hardly a face among them that did not suggest the fact that its owner was steeped to the eyebrows in sensuality and crime. Taken altogether I very much doubt if, for general blackguardism, their equal could be found in the whole length and breadth of the East. Also I could not help speculating as to what sort of a chance Nikola and myself would have if our secret should happen to be discovered and we were compelled to run the gauntlet of the inmates. The service was not a long one, and in something under an hour we were back in our old room again. Then Nikola was summoned to an interview with the high priest and while he was away I wandered down stairs and about the court yards.
It was the time of the evening meal, and those monks who had already dined were lolling idly about chewing betel nut and gossiping over the affairs of the day. What they thought of my presence there I could not tell, but it struck me that I was not regarded with any too much favour. Possibly my supposed rank may have been partly responsible for this, though I could not see why it should give offence; or it may have been that they entertained that difference of feeling, which exists in other countries as well as China, between the laity and clergy, and would not speak until they were spoken to.
At the end of one of the largest courtyards, that in fact in which we had noticed the large statue of Buddha, there was a fair-sized well, and round the coping were seated quite a dozen men. Their quaintly coloured garments, their shaven heads and their curiously constructed pipes, all backed by the rosy glow of evening, constituted a most picturesque and effective group. I crossed towards them and bowing to the party seated myself in a place which had just been vacated.
One of the party was an accomplished story-teller, and was in the middle of a lengthy narrative bristling with gods, devils, virtuous men and reverend ancestors. I sat down to listen. When he had finished I applauded vigorously, and being desirous of ingratiating myself with the company, called for silence and commenced a tale myself. Fortunately it received considerable commendation, but I could not help noticing that my success was not very palatable to the previous narrator. I had observed that he had been watching me ever since I had joined the circle, and that as I proceeded with my story his interest increased. Then, like a flash, the knowledge dawned upon me that I had seen him before. As I remembered the circumstance a cold sweat of fear burst out upon me, my voice shook with terror, and as it did so I lost the thread of my narrative. I saw my listeners look up in surprise, and even the previous narrator seemed to wonder what was the matter with me. Instantly I pulled myself together and tried to continue as if nothing out of the common had occurred, but it was too late; I had aroused attention, and for some reason or other the man had come to the conclusion that all was not right. How bitterly I regretted having joined the circle at all. But it was no use crying over spilt milk, so after a while I made an excuse and left them to their own devices, returning myself to the room where I had last seen Nikola. Fortunately he was alone. Not knowing however who might be about I did not address him at once, but sat down near the door and waited for him to speak. He very soon did so.
“What have you been doing this last hour?” he asked rather sharply.
“Wandering about the building,” I answered, “and at the same time discovering something which is the very reverse of pleasant.”
“What do you mean,” he asked, his eyes—for he had removed his spectacles—glittering like snakes.
“I mean that there is a man in this monastery whom I have met before, and under very unpleasant circumstances.”
“Do you think he recognises you?”
“I hope not,” I answered; “but how can I tell?”
“Where did you meet him, and why do you say 'unpleasant'?”
“It was in Canton,” I answered, “and this man tried to break into my house. But I caught him in time, and in the fight that followed he stabbed me in the wrist. I carry the mark to this day. Look at it for yourself. I caught him however and he would have been executed had not the magistrate before whom he was brought possessed a personal grudge against me and allowed him to escape.”
“Let me look at the mark,” said Nikola.
I gave him my left hand, pulling up my sleeve as I did so, that he might have a better view of it. Half way across, but a little above the wrist bone, was a long white scar. Nikola gazed at it attentively.
“This is serious,” he said. “You will have to be very careful or that man will suspect something, and then we shall be nicely caught. For the future make it your habit to walk with your hands folded beneath your sleeves, and take care who you let come up beside you.”
“I will remember,” I answered, and as I spoke the great gongs, calling up the monks to the last service of the day, boomed out from the courtyard below. Being determined not to show ourselves lacking in religious zeal we descended to the large hall, which was already filled with worshippers. Nikola, by virtue of his sanctity, took up his place in a prominent part, hard by where sat the high priest himself. I was near the western wall, surrounded by a set of the most loathsome and blackguardly ruffians it would be possible to imagine. At first I took but little notice of them, but when a new monk came up and pushed his way alongside me my attention was thoroughly aroused. It was not long before my suspicions were confirmed; the man next to me was the same fellow who had looked at me in such a curious fashion when we were seated round the well, and about whom I had spoken to Nikola only a few minutes before. But even if he recognised me he did not let a sign escape him to show that he did. Throughout the service he occupied himself completely with his devotions, turned his face neither to the right hand nor to the left, and it was not until we were about to rise from our knees that he came out in his true colours. Then, just as I was half on to my feet, he stumbled against me with such violence that I fell back again and rolled over on to the floor. Then like lightning he sprang forward and seized me by the arm, and tearing back my sleeve looked at the scar upon my wrist. As he did so he allowed a little cry of triumph to escape him. For a moment I stood too confused and horror stricken at what had happened to say or do anything, and yet I knew that unless I could act promptly we were indeed ruined.
By this time the hall was more than half empty. Nikola, I could see, was standing at, the farther end talking earnestly to the high priest. To interrupt him would be akin to sacrilege; so when the man had left me, and hurried out after the others I stood at a little distance and waited for him to notice me. As soon as he looked my way I placed three fingers of my right hand upon my forehead, a sign we had agreed to use when ever danger threatened us and it was necessary to act quickly. He saw my meaning and a moment later, making some excuse, bade the high priest good-night, and signing to me to follow him retired to his dormitory.
As soon as we had reached it he turned sharply upon me, his eyes, in his excitement, blazing in his head like live coals.
“What is it you have to tell me?” he asked.
“Only that I am discovered,” I answered. “While we were at prayers downstairs the man whom I suspected this evening pushed himself in next to me. I immediately took the precaution to keep my hands covered with my sleeves lest he should see the scar he had inflicted. I could not move away from him for obvious reasons, and when the service was over I flattered myself that I had outwitted him. But he was as sharp as I was, and just as I was rising from my knees he lurched into me and pushed me down upon the floor. With a natural instinct I immediately put out my hands to save myself and as I did so he seized upon my wrist.”
“This will put us in a nasty fix,” said Nikola; “and one mistake at this juncture will ruin everything. He will of course go direct to the high priest and reveal his discovery, then that worthy will come to me. I shall be compelled to produce you. You will be found to be an Englishman disguised, and as soon as that is discovered we'll see the gleaming of the knives. This has come at a most unfortunate time, for by to-morrow morning, if all had gone well, I should have got the information I wanted, been told the word, that would admit us to the monastery in the mountains, and we could have left this place and been off to it. However there is no time to waste talking of what might have been. I must work out some scheme that will save us, and at once. You had better go into the inner room and leave me alone.”
As he spoke I detected the sound of footsteps on the staffs. I ran into the inner room and drew the heavy curtain across the door. A moment later the high priest, accompanied by two or three of the principal monks and the man who had discovered me, entered the room. Looking through a hole in the curtain I saw that Nikola had prostrated himself upon his knees and was occupied with his devotions. On observing this the high priest and his satellites came to a dead stop. Nikola was in no hurry, but kept them waiting for at least ten minutes. Then he rose and turned towards them.
“What do you want with me?” he asked; “and how does it come about that this rabble intrudes upon my privacy? Leave the room all of you!”
He waved his arm and the men fell back, but none too pleasantly.
“Now sir,” he said to the high priest, who had watched these proceedings with no small amount of surprise, “what is that my father requires of me?”
“Nay, my son,” said the man he addressed, “be not angry with us. There is without doubt some little mistake, which will soon be set right. I have come to thee because it has been asserted by a young priest that the man whom you call your secretary is not a Chinaman at all but a certain barbarian Englishman, called by the heathen name of 'Bruce.' I cannot believe that this is so. How long hast thou known the man, my son?”
“A matter of three weeks,” said Nikola with a great air of candour, “and during that time he has been continually about my person. What thy servant says is false; he is as true a countryman of thine as the Emperor himself. Let us decide the matter in this way. If it should be as thou sayest, then to-morrow morning I will have the dog out, and he shall answer for his duplicity with his barbarian life. If not, then I will tear the tongue of that lying knave, thy priest, out of his mouth. To-night I have to offer many prayers, and I am weary, so let it be decided between us in the great hall to-morrow morning.”
“It shall be as you say,” said the old man. “Do not let there be ill feeling between us, my lord. Have no fear; if the man be all thou sayest my servant shall surely pay the penalty.”
Having said this he bowed himself before Nikola and then departed from the room. As soon as the sound of his footsteps had ceased upon the stone stairs Nikola crossed the room and came in to me.
“They have gone,” he said. “And now we have got to find a way out of this difficulty.”
“It seems almost impossible,” I answered doubtfully. .
“Nothing is impossible,” Nikola answered, “as I have so often told you. We've got at least six hours before us in which to do something, and we had better look sharp and. decide what that something shall be.”