CHAPTER XIX A SOUND IN THE NIGHT
"Tell me about that mysterious land, China." Florence settled back in herplace in the stupid little Dodge-Em that, refusing to travel farther, hadleft them stalled far out on the black waters of night.
"China." Erik Nord's tone was full of the enchanting melody of the FarEast. "How is one to tell you of China? There are sampans where wholefamilies live their lives away, sampans on the river and great cities ontheir banks. Farther up there are villages and on the river great oldjunks. Ships from out of the past, they loom before you in the dark. Younever know whether they are manned by brigands who will rob you orsoldiers who may take your possessions from you in the name of the law.You--"
"Listen!" Her hand was on his arm. There had come a sound from the water."Do--do you think his Dodge-Em has stalled too? Wouldn't it be strange ifwe drifted together in the moonlight?"
"Nothing would suit me better!"
Florence believed him.
"But that long-eared one has the knife," she told herself as a thrillcoursed up her spine. Closing her eyes she seemed to witness a battle onthe water, a fight between a square-jawed white man from China whoseancestors had built boats that were good fifty years later, and aChinaman inspired by who knows what superstitious terror.
"If only we'd sight him!" Nord's words came from between his teeth. "Ithink I might help out a bit, rip a board off this tub of ours and use itfor a paddle or something."
"It seems pretty solid." Florence felt the boat over. "Besides, wehaven't seen him, we've only caught a sound. It might not have been hisboat. Probably his gas held out and he's gone back to land, vanished bynow--the vanishing Chinaman."
"By the way," Erik's voice took on a new note, "how did it happen yourecognized him out there on the water?"
"I--why, I've seen him before." She was stalling for time. Should shetell him all about the chest, the knife, the banners? She was not proudof the affair. They had been careless, she could see that now. And yet,if he knew, they might work together.
She looked away at the golden moon. Her eyes followed the path it paintedacross the water.
"Yes," she said, "I'll tell you. It was like this. We bought that chestfull of your treasures at an auction sale, bought it for I--I'm ashamedto tell you how little. And now--now it's gone; all gone but the chest."
"Gone?"
"He got it, that long-eared one."
"Tell me about it." Erik leaned forward eagerly.
She told him all there was to tell, described the knife, the bell and allthe banners as best she could.
"Gone!" he murmured. "All gone. You have missed much, and the little onesof China have missed more. There was a reward for the return of thatchest, five hundred dollars.
"Five hun--"
"Five hundred in gold. With that you could have visited this land thatseems to you so mysterious. With care you could have stayed a long timein China, delved into all manner of Oriental mysteries."
"I'll do it yet!" He saw her stout figure stiffen with resolve. "I'll getthat long-eared one yet! You wait! You shall have all those treasuresback, every one!"
"Splendid! But have a care, my friend. Have a care!" There was a note ofwarning in his voice. "Those Orientals are dangerous when somesuperstitious terror takes possession of them. There is something we donot know about those temple adornments; that knife and bell are forces tofight demons. Who can say what demons have taken possession of ourvanishing Chinaman? Have a care! Just when you wish for your very life'ssake that he might vanish, you will find him insisting upon being verymuch of a present reality. He--"
"Listen!" Again her hand rested on his arm.
* * * * * * * *
There are certain people who "feel" events before they transpire. This,psychologists will tell you, is intuition. Jeanne's intuition caused herknees to tremble as she walked from the elevator to Lorena LeMar'sapartment which, for the time, was her own.
"A trunk," she whispered. "A trunk beyond that door." By this time herkey was in the lock. She wished to turn back; she willed to go forward.In the end courage won. She pushed open the door. She entered the room.
But she did not go far. One look was enough. The trunk, a huge affairsuch as is used by commercial traveling men, stood in the center of theroom. Its lid was up. It was empty! And the whole apartment, as far asher startled eyes could take it in, was in a state of wild confusion.
Next, without exactly knowing how it happened, she found herself outsidewith the door locked behind her.
Her heart was beating painfully. As if to still its wild beating sheclutched at her breast. Her brain was in a state of wild confusion. Forsome little time she could not think two thoughts in a row.
When at last her senses returned it all came to her in a flash. "It isthat little yellow man with the long ears," she assured herself. "He orone of his friends. He believed that those things, those pricelessbanners and that curious bell from the temple, were in this place. He hadhimself strapped tight in that monstrous trunk and shipped himself tothis hotel, 'To Miss LeMar's apartment.' To--"
She broke off. "He knows!" The thought fairly floored her. "Thislong-eared one knows I am not Lorena LeMar. He knows I am Petite Jeanne.Will he tell? Will he spoil all my fine plans?" Here indeed was aterrible probability.
"If I make it possible for him to have just what he wants," she whisperedslowly, "perhaps he will go away and no one will know, no one butFlorence and Miss LeMar and Tom Tobin, who will never tell."
Here indeed was temptation. She did not know that these treasures hadbeen intended as a gift to a children's hospital, for the little ones ofChina. Florence had not told her. She only knew that at present they wereher own, that she and Florence had bought them and had received a bill ofsale for them.
Startling as was this revelation, it did not occupy her thoughts long.Her mind took a fresh turn.
"Florence," she whispered. "Where is she? The hour is late."
Once again her head was in a whirl. Where could Florence be?
"Perhaps she is in there! They may have found her. She may have beenmurd--"
She could not say the word. Her love for her big companion was all butcompelling her to re-enter that room.
"He may still be there, that little yellow one with the long ears." Shewas fairly beside herself.
Should she call the house detective? This she feared to do. In theexcitement of the moment she might give away the secret of her dualpersonality.
"No! No! I must not! I must be brave!"
Once again she approached the door. Her fingers trembled as she fittedkey to lock, yet she did not turn back. The lock clicked. The dooropened. She stepped inside. The door closed behind her.