The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 24, 1904, Page 4

Though now more deeply in her debt, I was utterly helpless to repay Nsasg, however much I longed to show my gratitude. But I could not in any way, and 1 only pressed her hand as I geve ber the bridle, and bade her “‘au revoir” —for, if God was good to me, I would vet repay her kindness. She sat quiet a little while on her ponmy, then, as I moved aside, she rcde off slowly and never once looked back. With an aching heart I watched the still figure till it was lost amid the great boulders by the side of the moun- tain path. Then I turned to my horse in haste to pass Nsase's good favor on. My life was saved, and there—yes, the ts had just lifted from it—stood the und of the imperial mausoleum. CHAPTER XXIV. PER OF THE TOMB. descended into the great plain in h Keinning lay, my eyes i1ested y on this conical mound of earth. Nc one gazing from those heights could have overlooked that peculiar forma- tior But as I neared it, rejoicing in my edom, the terrible fear that Dulcine not there—that she was something worse, even, than buried alive, re- turned. No matter how frequently I crushed down this awful fear, it would urn, and I would again hear the Menin's sneering words of tri- umph— “I have gained all you have lost But I was determined to stand fast to my course. The fears, the sneering threats—nothing should alter my trust in Duicine. She had known the signal, and I had certainly never given it, and that another could have accidentally given it was a possibility too remote to be considered now But if ever I had a hard probiem it was a kitten’s plaything to this: How could that mound, made impregnable by the best of human skill, be entered, and the prisoner released? The mound was about fifty feet in height. The diameter of its base was equal to its height. The gravel sides had been turfed with grass since the perial funeral. The magic city which at its base had disappeared with the army and the great concourse of people. All the temporary buildings 1ad been taken away; but the Hall of Spices remained, for it was not tempo- ry. It was to be the temple of the where services to the memory of the Queen would be celebrated. As I pushed my horse down from the hills, 1 felt the fever of fear fill my veins Was it, verily, a tomb? As T came nearer—for I had to pass the mound to reach the east gate—I w workmen on its summit erecting a minutive temple roof to shelter the of the great tablet. My spirits rose at the sight of these men, and I strained my eyes to catch a glimpse of a familiar form; for, during the ride from the sword-dancer’s cave, I had de- ided that my hope lay in one man—old Ling’s son, Kim. Not until then had I thought of him, and remembered his appointment as secret guardian of the Jueen in his father's place. I congrat- ted myself on having kept my hasty promise to the father, for as I thought of it I was surer than ever that Dul- cine Oranoff’s life was in Lis hands; but I dared not think what the grave yvouth would do or say. I knew the penalty of an attempt to mock the ter- rible legend and enter that mauscleum; the body of the ghoulish vandal would be divided among the capitals of the twenty provinces, to be displayed in a public place If Kim could not help me, there w. but one man left to ask. That was the King, and asking him would be to tell the whole miserable story of Lynx Island and Prince Tuen's victory. And vet, had not a week passed without the fulfillment of the terrible myth? Was the King not sane still, and the dynasty stiil secure? And might not an- other week go by like this—and many? I pushed my horse on as fast as it could go, knowing each moment was an eternity to Duicine. 1 passed within a hundred yards of the mausoleum and watched the score of men who were at work upon the little temple roof. The material for it was being brought up on the very car and track upon which the golden sarcophagus had ascended. As I looked again upon these scenes =0 indelibly impressed on my memory, I thought of the terrible experiences Dulcine had endured since she bade me that last farewell. How the poor girl must have walted and waited and waited in her narrow cell for the sig- na! that never came! How her ex- hausted nerves must have trembiled! How her very life-blood must have been wrung from her heart as the mo- ments passed! Did she know when the service of the priests was over? Could she have known when she was placed upon the sliding car? Did she realize that she was beyond the Altar of Spices—aye, beyond all human power to save? Did she feel herself being Jowered into the tomb—or had he stun- ning, deafening shock of the falling tablet first told her that her lover had proven faithless and had sent her to a living tomb after failing to bring back the real body of the Queen? 1 ached to hurry now to the mound, but I could not, dressed as I was. And so I pushed on into the city. But here another question arose. Where should 1 go? 1 could not go to the legation. Al- ready Colonel Oranoff might have given out the news of Dulcine’s absence, and of mine. Yet I was sure he would be- lieve we were together, and that he would not quickly make public our dis- appearance. I could not help wonder- ing if in all his diplomatic days he had ever faced a riddle more difficult to solve than this. And so I turned toward the Japanese settlement, as I went into Keinding, and lodged at a Japanese inn. From there I boldly indited a letter to Colo- nel Orapoff, sa¥ing that for reasons which he would fully approve when he knew them Dulcine and I had left Keinning together. I dated my note KE THE 1 As beer face from Tsi, the morhing after the fu- THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CAL! neral, for I learned from a paper that a boat had sailed then for Port Arthur. By this time I was ready to return to the mausoleum in search of Kim, and a fresh horse quickly carried me over the three miles, driven by the anxiety that filled my heart. The plece was still un- der guard, and it was only by gocd luck that I was able to approach the mound. Andorph was not there, but one of his captains koew me and let me within the lines. The moment my foot touched the mound, up which the officer led me, I was beside myself with'excitement. 1 asked anxiously for Kim Ling, but the man could give me no information. I was surprised at this, but never for a moment doubted that the officer in command could do so. The whole of the great basin of the Phan lay at our feet as we ascended this mound so beautifully set in the midst of the plain. The view was more charming from this spct than from the hills about, for the fog had lifted, and things before shrouded in it ow took on their true outlines. But to my tired eyes it was common enough—the great sweep of the Phan, the crowds cf huts that lay along its banks, the odd boats, some of them of large proportions, which went up and down carrying the strangest salls winds even encountered. Far beyond, the silk worm wound along on the crest of the mountain very like the crawling thing the Quelpar- tiens took it to be. Above it great buz- Duicine pressed her face in my hands and arose and left the room. zards were circling, and on its side a dozen forms In white were raking grass for the winter fire. Keinning lay flung wide over the valley, the gray walls, some of the legations, the Pagoda, a new American house, being all that could be seen, save the dead level of the graceful tile roofs or the bushy straw roofs of the poor. On the other side lay Pukhan, with the great wall of a mountain fortress, surrounding on its summit a space as great as that occupied by Keinning in the valley, a refuge for the kings of Qualparte who should be brave enough to dare to run away—should there ever come one so brave. “Good morning,” I said eagerly to the officer in command, who was oversee- ing the erection of the rocf above the tablet; “may I see Lieutenant Ling?"” The man started at my words. “Ling is not here,” he replied; “I have noth- ing to do with Lieutenant Ling."” “Kim Ling not here?” I cried out. “Was he not appointed secret guard- ian of the Queen?” The man gazed at me open-mouthed. But I burst on, regardless of his sur- prise. 1 could not lose Kim now. I could not go to the King! “You are mistaken, sir,” I pressed him. “Ling was appointed to office here; I saw his appointment, after ask- ing the King myself that it be given to him.” The man fell backward from me, his eyes strained open wide; then he an- swered me firmly and gravely (and I admired him for it): “He is not and has not been here, sir; but I am only keeper of the tomb. Have you looked for him at the bar- racks?” The tablet had fallen fairly into its place upon the sunken tomb, without sign of crack or other mar. Directly upon it were laid the light sleepers of the little building now ‘being erected. It was a handsome little structure of cedar wood in which the memorial tab- lets would be kept for inspection. The building was not intended as a temple, for the temple of the tomb had been built to be permanent, and there the sacrifices and incense would be burned. Thus I gazed around me while I tried 7 think of my next step. It was in that this man, even if he knew, would not tell me where Kim Ling was; I doubted if he knew. But I made one more effort to gzet something out of him: “Yes, I have been to the barracks,” I replied with great lack of regard for the truth, “but he left the barracks on the night of the funeral. His commis- sion tcok effect when the Queen was buried; where eise, then, would he be save here—on Lynx Island?” But even my sarcasm was of no avail with this sturdy man. Yet the two talked a moment behind my back. Then one said gently: “Kim Ling's Uncle Kysang is ringer of the bell; he can tell you where Kim lives, and no doubt you can get scent of him there.” I was indebted to the men for this in- formation, but I lingered for—well, for strength to take up the search. I leaned heavily upon the sweet new tim- ber just brought from the far-off moun- tains; I prayed to God then as I never had before, and as I prayed for the strength to find Dulcine and save her, there came, in the scent of the cedars, the memory of my boyhood home in dear old Vermont. I saw the hills and forests and heard the chatter of those clear brooks where the trout played; I felt once more the sweet damp of the woodlands, and a touch of the breeze which fans those cool green mountains from which I was now so far removed. And when I had thus rested a moment I wiped my damp eyes and pulled my- self together. I left the men in as good humor as possitle, though I saw they thought I knew more thap might have bean ex- pected, and rode carelessly back to the barracks. I would find trace of Kim even if I met Oranoff himself. I called for Kim'’s captain, but when he zame I found he knew less than nothing. Kim Ling had disappeared from hu- man sight! From a soldier I lJearned where his mother and sister lived, and boltel out of the barracks on that siight clew. At the gate I met one of my legation boys. He knew me almost instantly, and ran up saying: “Go slow; I bring you pinge (letter) from Colonel Oranoff.” “Bring it to the great bell,” said I, and I galloped on. The house of the great bell was locked, and the keeper was away. I was turning to leave for Kim’s house, when my bey came hurrying up. He brought this letter: Mr. Robert Martyn—Your commission as captain in the Czar's Cuirassiers is handed you herewith. I leave Tsi at daybreak for Port Arthur. There is some bad plotting going on here by Tuen. I shall be better off in China, and there is much to be done there. I shall return on the Genki Maru, touching Tsi thed 27th. Shall return to Washington with you. ' You need not report at St. Petersburg before the spring maneuvers in May. Hastily but gratefully yours, IVAN ORANOFF, Colonel. This was dated the night of the im- perial funeral. Then Oranoff had not received my de- ceptive note. He was out of the coun- try; and there were five days in which to get Dulcine from the tomb, and to meet her father at Tsi. I hardly paused to thank the man for obtaining for me such an enviable commissicn in that most wonderful body of horse in the world. I know he was thinking as much of Dulcine as of me in doing so. I told my boy where I wished to go as nearly as I cculd, and he became my guide. At last he paused before a door and spoke to a litile girl playing near. It was Kim’s house. The girl called her mother, who told my boy that Kim had gone away the night of the funeral and would return home at stated times. He had not come yet, and they did not know when he would come. They were happy in his fortunate apointment; but the news of the father's death, though they had not seen him for two long years, brought a gloom which even the son’s promotion could nét dispel. Here was the end of my last rope. .1 could learn nothing further of the dis- appearance of Kim Ling. I asked that news of his return be sent to his uncle, the old ringer of the bell, and I turned gloomily away. I would wait a little for Kim before I went to the King. Passing by an inn, I stopped long enough to write a note to the Russian Minister, saying that I had gone on a little journey to the mountains, and would return to Kein- ning in time to take the boat on which Colonel Oranoff and his daughter would return from China. I also explained that Dulcine had joined her father at Tsj and had gone to Chefu with him. Had a scorpion crawled out of the words, I could not have started mcre suddenly. The white lie I was telling was the very black lie the devil Menin told me! And Oranoff had gone to Che- fu, as the trickster said! I had not thought of that before. Now 1 thought and trembled. 1 am sure I should not have been blamed for doubting Dulcine here; but I did not. Menin may have been right regarding Oranoff, and wrong concern- ing his daughter. No good liar fails to season his falsehoods with a pinch of truth. With half an oath and half a sob-I —spent hound that I was—determined to cling to the track of the lost lad Kim, and I plodded on, trembling and ex- hausted, to the bell house to walt. By only one thing was I cheered— Colonel Oranoff’s absence. The feeling in that great city against us was grow- ing intense. It would have been all his life was worth to walk these streets now. Yet I belleve I wished a little that I could confess everything to him. This suspense was slow poison. CHAPTER XXV. EMMILE. The old ringer of the bell was stand- ing In the door of the bell house as I came across the plaza to it. My boy told him something of me, which made him very friendly; to. my surprise, he could speak some English. He had been an old servant at the British Le- gation before receiving his present ap- pointment, which was, to all native eyes, a most honorable one. He had ob- tained it through the influence of his brother, General Ling. I remained with old Kysang from that evening until the following night at midnight, and as I look back on them thcse hours were by far the darkest in all my Quelnartien ex- perience. Since Kim could not be found, I must await his return. There was nothing else to do—that is, unless 1 went to the King. This I determined I would not do for at least one more night. I sent my boy again to Kim's house to make sure that word would be sent me upon Kim's arrival. He re- turned afirming that my wish would be obeyed, bringing also the information that Kim's mother was afraid ¢f me, and that Kim was now away longer than he had expected to be. If Kim was delayed, for how long would it be? I trembled to think that Tuen might have entrapped the son as he had the father! If so, I was wasting each moment I waited for him, and would better go to the King this very night. By force of will I decided not to go until midnight of the following night. If Kim came not by that time, I would hurry immediately to the Rus- sian Legation, where the King would be with his Cabinet, throw myself at his feet, and tell all. And how did I live through the ter- rible hours intervening? In other cir- cumstances my stay of thirty hours within that bell house listening to the tales of old Kysang would have been of utmost interest. The house was, per- haps, fifteen feet square and twenty feet high. It was latticed on the'sides, and roofed overhead., In one corner Kysang had a little room and a fire. Here I lay, sleeping or smoking desper- ately, while listening to the old man’s talk. In the center of the house hung the great bell of Keinning. It was twelve feet high, and more than half as broad at the mouth. It was made of a strange composition of metals, chiefly jron. It hung suspended from two heavy beams and had no tongue, being struck by a great beam hung on heavy chains. And when this beam was drawn back by the old ringer and crashed down upon the bell, a sound, the like of which one will hear nowhere else in the world, goes out over the . the great beil. great city, echoing among the sur- rounding mountains, The composition, of metals in the bell, and the effect of being struck by a wooden instead of an iron tongue, give to its tone a .pe- culiar quality, which is likely to pre- serve forever the terrible legend which has come down the centuries with it. The sound is plaintive and pathetic, from whatever part of the city you hear it—as if it were, in reality, the death-cry of a child. The dynasty to which Whang-Su be- ionged began one hundred years before Columbus. discovered America, so old Kysang affirmed in telling the story of I thought I could have teld pretty nearly when’it should have ended, if myths be true, but I held my peace and smoked on. Each new dy- nasty must have a new capital; so the new King sent out three wise men to locate the site of his capital. These wise men, like all. wise men, fell into a dispute, but on awakening one morn- ing, they found a narrow line of snow which formed a circle just here in the plain of Phan River. Providence had settled the question, and had indicgted the propitious spot by this band of snow. On this circle the work of excavating for the foundation of the city wall im- mediately began. One day a workman struck his pick in a metal substance. Digging carefully around it, he soon breught to light a small iron bell of perfect proportions. The discovery was® noised abroad, and the King ordered the bell brought to the palace. Imme- diately a proclamation went forth that a gigantic bell should be cast to hang in the center of the capital, each of the tWenty provinces being asked to fur- nich cne-twentieth of the metal, that it might truly be a national bell. Messengers. were sent riding forth to each province to bring the metal to the great mold which was being prepared at Keinning. Each province contribu- ted its share gladly, and soon the King appointed a day for the casting. The nation assembled with the King and court on the hillside above the molten mass of metal. At the raising of the Queen’s hand the mold was filled. Af- ter a feast the great bell was lifted on mighty chains to hang before all the people. But, even as the cheers of the thousands went up, a loud report was heard which silenced the tumultuous applause. The side of the bell had cracked! Confusion reigned in the court, and the King's face was white with min- gled anger and fear as he proclaimed that the bell would be recast on the morrow, and sent the people running to their temples to pray. On the morrow a greater concourse zathered; a greater feast was prepared. Again the metal was heated, hotter than before. Again, at the Queen’s signal, the great mcld was filled, the feast was enjoyed, and the bell was lifted from the mold. And with a mightier report again it burst asunder. The King and his no- bles fe]l on their faces. The people rushed away now of their own accord, as fle from the very wrath of the gods. Yet one of all those thousands stood still. With an agcnized face upturned this man beat his breast and walked onward, alone, up toward his prostrate King. Nearing the great dais built on the greensward, he fell on the ground. A nobleman turned the King's eye to him, and at a signal he arose. “Sire, I. was a gatherer of metal in Rang-do. As I went through a little village 1 asked for metal at each hut. In one, darker than the rest, I uttered my request. Whereupon an old wwman replied, from the gloom: ‘I have no metal, but take this,’ and she unbound a babe- from her back and held it out to me. I laughed and went on. But as I went, the woman cursed the bell.” The court arose at these words, and all exclaimed: “A witch has cursed the bell!” Then the King set another day for the casting, and crdered that the witch and her child be found. The man was raised from the ground, to which he had fallen in anguish and terror, and.e with a troop of horsemen, rode rapidly off into the mountains. The prayers of a nation followed them and brought them safely back. And now the green hillside witnessed again the assembling of the nation—for everywhere the strange tale had zone. Even the lame and the blind came, and the great white-robed concourse formed another semicircle about the molten crater. On the dais, again spread with tiger-skins, sat the King and the’ Queen. The court in gorgecus apparel again waited. Just as the Queen arose to give the signal for the filling of the mold, a strange form was seen running through the crowds of people. All eyes turned to it. It was the witch. 2 On she ran. Reaching the red-hot crater, she unloosened a babe from her back and looked upward to the dais. With a wave of her white fingers the Queen gave the terrible command, and the babe was cast headlong into the boiling maelstrom of heated iron. As it went downward its plaintive cry rang out, and all the people heard: “Emmile, Emmile—O mother! mother mine!” 74 It is sald that cry was heard in every part of the kingdom, and not a mother but shuddered and turned quickly to her sleeping babe. Then the great mold was filled, but the people waited in silence for the cooling of the bell, and feasted not. The chains straightened and lifted it again in air. A nation held its breath. The mo- ments passed. But the bell remained whole. The life-blood of the babe had proven the rare flux needed to cement its ponderous sinews. Cheer upon cheer arose, and the King proclaimed a holiday. A wooden beam was gar- 1anded and hung to strike the bell. At the King’s command it was swung ‘back and descended. But what sound came forth? Only the cry of the burning babe: “Emmile! Emmile!” o And the Queen fainted where she stood.” e During a part of the time garrulous Kysang talked, I slept. There was nothing I could do before the time I had set to go to the King but sleep, and there was nothing I needed to do more. The booming of the great bell at mid- night of my first night with Kysang awoke me with a fright I had never felt in my life before. “O mother! O mother mine,” the iron monster cried. and a thousand mothers of Quelparte unconsciously turned in their sleep, and drew closer the infants beside them. And old Kysang, believ- ing implicity that the cry was that of the murdered babe, lovingly stroked the quivering metal with his bony hand and crooned a plaintive lullaby. On the second night I awoke with a frightened sob, as the great beam swept again thrcugh the air and an- nounced midnight. Yet I argse determinedly, shook old Kysang's hand roughly, and started for the door, There my legation boy Pak almost ran into me. “Colonel—Oranoff—has—come — hurt —very—badly—" he panted. CHAPTER XXVI. A NEW DEJNEFF. At the'legation plaza I found Dejneff striding up and down in the dark con- suming a black cigar. I needed nothing more to make me sure that something was wfong. When I came up he stopped quickly in his tracks. While he was growling out some Rusian oaths with his usual zest, I could see that he was not the same gruff old Dejneff. There were so many things I wanted to ask him that I was at a loss which to ask first, and yet I did not forget that there was one question which I must not permit him to ask me; I did not want him to men- tion Dulcine. “Oranoff is here?” I seized his coat sleeve as I spoke the words. the cigar out of his mouth and nodded dumbly. The grizzled warrior, always ready before with an oath or gruff laugh, only nodded, now, to this the most serious guestion I ever asked a man, Lights were moving up and down in the legation, but the King's wing was dark as the night, and I wondered how it was that Whang-Su was not meeting his Cabinet as of yore. The whole place seemed unnatural. T shook myself and repeated the question to Dejneff, and now he found his voice: “Oranoff, or his ghost.”” The man’s breath left him with those four words. But soon he found it and continued: “We were coming in from the imperial mausoleum after dusk, a few Cossacks and myself, and near the great bell we ran into a street fight. The crowd scattered as we dashed up, and there on the’ground lay Colonel Oranoff. We brought him to the legation. For a time he was unconscious, and when at last he came around he did not know where he was, and attempted to get out of his bed and go away; the Cos- sacks pulled him back, and he lies there now like a tiger. I am afraid he has been hurt on the head, and it has struck in.” Dejneff spoke like a child, and it was plain that he was all knocked up. I was pushing on toward the lega- tion door as we talked, dragging Dej- neff with me. I feared that I could not see Oranoff. We had reached the great door now, and I felt sure that Dejneff had not told me all the truth. “Come, old man,” I said, taking him sternly by the lapel of his great coat; “what's up?¥ How did Oranoff come to Keinning, and how was he hurt?” I could not go on until I knew more. “Damn me if I know, Martyn; go see for yourself.” I dragged him into my room. I did not knew whether I wanted to go to Orancff yet or not. While Pak was getting the brandy and soda, we sat looking at each other in silence, though Dejneff swung himself around and around in his chair every half- minute with a deep sigh. As we waited, the interior of that room brought back a score of painful memories. Here I had conceived and carried into execution this reckless tra- vesty which, for all I knew now, was to cost severmk-of us our lives. I re- membered what Oranoff had once said about peace costing the Czar the lives ot his best; if Oranoff had been parma- nently injured, a good life had surely been wrecked in Quelparte to avert a war with Japan! Even the pictures on which I had hung some of those silk garments were still askew, aad the chair stood before the fireplace just where it had stood when I told Dulcine that story of Lynx Island. As I thought of Dulcine I shuddered—for fear Dejneff would speak of her! What could they think of her absence with Colonel Oranoff in such a condition? But might it not be that even this was fortunate? I tried to think it was. The liquor did something toward making men of us again—being good for all polsons. Dejneff was quite him- self, and my presence seemed to give his confidence. ““This protectorate business has been going all against the grain,” he said at last, with a nod toward the King's wing of the legation. I remembered that it was dark. “It's set the people against us, which explains this attack on Oranoff.” 1 was thinking it was Tuen’s revenge. “Has the King heard of 1t?"” I asked. *“No, the King has left.” 1 started. “What do you mean, Dejneff?” “Oh, the people thought we had him here, and had put the screws on him . to pull through this protectorate, and the Cabinet made him clear out for the new palace.” “He has gone already?”’ “He went to-night; we couldn’t keep him, and we didn’t want him either.” So here was the end of my plan to see the King to-night; in fact, I doubted whether I could ever see him alone now, hedged in as he probahly He took * was by the swarm of officials at the palace. But Oranoff could. I must see Oranoft! While we talked of the King, Dejneff was quite his old seif, but the moment 1 spoke of Oranoff he cringed and failed me. 1 could not be balked, and would not. “I must see Oranoff, Dejneff, right away, and I will; I wish you would go and do what you can for me.” The words seemed to take the strength out of him, but he saw I was In earnest, and he arose unsteadily and started 1or the door. “But, Dejneft,” I added, rising with him, “don’t let anybody know I am here or have been here; not even Dulcine.” How I got those words out my lips T cannot tell; yet I said them, and they stopped him in his tracks. But after standing still a moment glaring down his nose into his beard, he left me without a word. “He does not dare to tellsme Dulcine has not returned,” I said, as I dropped again upon my bed. Pak came in some time after Dejneff had left and took away the empty glasses. When he came back I was donning my best and brightest uni- form. Pak assisted me for a time in silence, but at last he could not contain himself, and the poor lad burst into tears, much to my surprise and to his own great shame. I soon learned that the servants knew of the attack on Oranoff. They were all frightened; some had even left the legation, fearing a mob would attack us. But Pak was weeping because Oranoff was Injured, and more particu- larly because no one knew what was the matter with him. “Won’t you get Hu Mok now?” he at last said to me, drying his face on his coat-tails. *“Hu Mok ecan tell what's the matter with anybody,” he went on, uninterrupted; ‘“‘last moon a man was very sick in Chulla province, and no one knew what was the matter.” “I will see about Hu Mok, Pak” I said, conciliating him; “I am going to see Colonel Oranoff now."” For Dejneff was at the door. Concluded Next Sunday. e e JOE ROSENBERG'S. For Fastidiovs Women. 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