CHAPTER X
Ebenezer Clayhill's Inspiration
Mr. Ebenezer Clayhill was not the man to be thwarted without displaying some show of opposition, and though the course which David Harbor had taken, and the result of his action in the Courts had considerably perturbed the owner of 'The Haven,' the latter did not remain despondent for long.
'The young rascal!' he exclaimed to his wife one day, as they sat in the flat which they had rented in London, for longer residence in their own house was hardly possible, the publication of their doings having roused the ire of the countryside. Indeed, both Ebenezer and his wife had been hooted in the village, while, on rising the morning after their return from the trial of the case they had been astounded to discover a huge notice board in the garden, prominently displayed, with 'To Let' in large figures, a very obvious hint that their presence in those parts was no longer required.
'The young rascal!' he exclaimed again, blowing his huge nose with unusual violence. 'I suppose he thinks to have things all his own way.'
'And so far he has won all along the line,' came the brusque if not very encouraging answer from Mrs. Clayhill. 'I knew what it would be if you quarrelled with the boy. A more stubborn, strong-headed youth I never met. It was your sending him from home which upset matters.'
Mr. Ebenezer glared at his wife over the top of his handkerchief, and when he at length exposed the whole of his countenance it was flushed a deep red to match the wonted colour of his proboscis.
'We won't discuss that,' he said icily. 'The boy hasn't won, though he appears to have done so. Recollect that he has yet to find that will, and China is a big country.'
The reflection appeased Mrs. Clayhill for the moment. 'Yes, China is a big country,' she agreed, thoughtfully. Then she again recurred to David's stubbornness, as she was pleased to characterise his pluck and staunchness. Indeed, the reader will have been able to draw his own conclusions. If standing up for oneself, and fighting one's own battles when a most evident wrong was attempted was stubbornness, then David was undoubtedly of that persuasion, decidedly stubborn to say the least. 'China is a big country, as Edward Harbor was never tired of telling me. But he'll do it. If that will exists, as I believe it does – for my late husband was most careful and particular – then David will discover it. Drat the boy!'
'Precisely! We will allow that he will hunt high and low,' said Mr. Ebenezer, assuming a soothing tone of voice. 'We will even assume that he will find the will, though of that I am extremely doubtful. But will he bring it back in safety? That is the question.'
At his words his wife looked up sharply. She was accustomed to Ebenezer now, and had found him to be a schemer. Not that that fact annoyed her. On the contrary, as has been already mentioned, this lady was not of the nicest disposition. Had the whole truth been known, she had schemed to marry Edward Harbor, knowing him to be a rich man, while she was almost penniless. She was, indeed, not altogether guiltless of scheming herself, and found in Ebenezer a man somewhat after her own heart. She looked up sharply, questioningly, and waited for him to continue.
'Well?' she demanded, after a while, finding he remained silent, save for the fact that he drew his handkerchief from his pocket again and applied it to his nose, trumpeting loudly, an old and disagreeable habit that was often annoying. 'Put that handkerchief away, Ebenezer, and tell me what you mean. What are you driving at? The boy may find the will, you say, but you doubt his bringing it back safely. Why shouldn't he be able to do so? If he actually finds this will, surely that is the most difficult part of the task. I don't understand you.'
'My dear,' came the answer, as Ebenezer pulled at his handkerchief again, and then, suddenly remembering that it annoyed his wife, tucked it away. Instead he rose and placed himself in his favourite position on the hearth-rug, expanded his chest, and put on an air of great importance. 'My dear,' he said, 'let us assume that he gets this document. He discovers it in China, in the part where his father carried out research work in connection with some old Mongolian city. I say, let us assume that he is so fortunate. Well, China is a country of disturbances. Foreign devils are not over loved, and – er – well, you see – er – sometimes there are robberies committed. Edward Harbor was murdered, probably for his small possessions, his guns and other things necessary to him on such an expedition. David might – '
'Be murdered! You don't mean that!' exclaimed Mrs. Clayhill, holding up her hands in horror, and sitting up sharply in her chair. For that was going too far. A scheme was a scheme, she told herself. She had gone so far already in her efforts to oust her stepson from all benefit in his father's possessions, that she would not hesitate to scheme further; but she drew the line sharply at personal violence. That was against her wishes altogether.
'Ebenezer,' she cried severely, 'I forbid you even to talk of such a thing. If we cannot enjoy this money without doing actual violence to David, then I will at once go to the solicitor, Mr. Jones, and show him that letter Edward wrote me. If I produced it, there is not a shadow of doubt but that a judge would advise a jury against the will we have put forward. The wording is so strong that there can be no doubt not only of my late husband's intentions, but also of the fact that he actually executed a will in David's favour. It would end the matter for good and all; we should be almost paupers.'
Mrs. Clayhill was quite agitated, to say the least, and was almost angry with her husband. In any case she was consistent; for while she was not averse to a scheme which would do no one personal or bodily harm, she would rather resign all interest in the possessions of her late husband than have David injured. And as might be expected, Ebenezer was not left altogether unruffled. The excitement was too much for his powers of self-control. He dragged his handkerchief from his pocket and trumpeted again, a shrilly, discordant note which seemed to match with Mrs. Clayhill's temper. Then he regained his coolness, and held his hands up in a soothing manner.
'My dear, my dear,' he cried, somewhat querulously, still hot and perturbed at the thought of the consequences of such an act as his wife had threatened, 'whoever said a word about violence? Not I; of that I am sure. I merely remarked that China was a disturbed country, and that Europeans are hated people, open to robbery and violence. I was about to proceed when – '
'What then?' asked Mrs. Clayhill, abruptly, relieved to hear that no violence to David was premeditated, and eager at the same time to learn what her crafty husband could have thought of. 'What is the scheme, Ebenezer? You keep me in a whirl. The anxiety of this will is making me quite miserable. See what has happened already. The people in the village actually insulting, hooting us in the street; servants leaving us en masse, even the outside staff ceasing work and departing. Why, we shall have to let the house. We can never show our faces there again. And then think of what the papers said. It makes me hot and cold all over in turn as I remember the names they called us.'
It was all very true. Mr. Ebenezer and his scheming wife had imagined that everything would go very smoothly for them; for they had but a lad to deal with. Up to the time of David's being told that he must now work, and must leave home for London, there had not been even a question as to the succession to Edward Harbor's money. It had been a recognised fact that all his wealth was to descend, and at once too, to Mrs. Ebenezer Clayhill and her husband. Even the solicitor, Mr. Jones, with a natural liking for our hero, and, therefore, with every wish to see him done justice to, had been unable to demur. Unwillingly, it is true, but as a matter of ordinary business, he had carried through the proving of the will put forward by Mr. Ebenezer Clayhill and his wife, and had obtained judgment allowing him to presume Edward Harbor's death. Then, when everything should have gone smoothly, trouble had begun. David had for the first time shown an inclination to contest the will. He had mentioned the existence of a letter from his late father, evidently written at the same time as that sent to Mrs. Ebenezer, and intimating that he was to be the chief beneficiary under his father's will. That bomb-shell had caused consternation, even greater consternation than David's sudden determination to leave home. From that moment the two schemers had known little peace; their scheme was threatened. They began to wonder whether they would actually succeed to the money, and whether also by their action in suppressing that important communication from Edward Harbor they laid themselves open to punishment. David's sudden accession to popularity, the laudatory remarks made concerning him in the papers after the burglary at the store near Bond Street had served to increase their ire and vexation. Finally, they were forced to attend the courts to show reason why the will of the late Edward Harbor should not remain unexecuted, pending a search for a later one mentioned in the letter which David's advisers laid before the courts. Let the reader imagine their anger and mortification. Let him add to that the fact that Ebenezer and his wife were the talk of the country, universally condemned by all, and that their own home no longer afforded them an asylum; he will then readily agree that retribution was coming, that these two schemers were not finding their path of the smoothest. But they were not beaten. Ebenezer spread out his hands again, in an attitude meant to be most soothing, and addressed his wife once more.
'We are wandering from my point,' he said, as placidly as he could, though he found it hard to keep his temper. 'I mentioned no violence to the young cub whom you have the misfortune to own as a stepson. I merely said that he might find it difficult to bring the document home with him, even if he were so fortunate as to discover it.'
'Ebenezer, you have something to tell me,' came the sharp answer. 'What is it? You have been hatching some plan.'
His wife smiled encouragingly at him, and awaited his reply with obvious eagerness. For she had found in this new husband a crafty fellow, and even now had faith in his powers to bring this matter to a successful issue. 'Come,' she said, 'what have you done?'
'I have had a most distinct piece of good fortune. All this prominence which the papers have given us, and which has been so disagreeable, has been useful nevertheless. It has roused a vast amount of interest in the case. People have read every word the papers have written.'
'As we know to our cost,' sniffed Mrs. Ebenezer.
'Precisely. People have read every word, even foreigners, and as a result I received a few days ago a letter from a man living in the east end of London – from a Chinaman.'
Mrs. Ebenezer pricked up her ears; the plan was beginning in a promising manner. 'A Chinaman,' she ejaculated. 'Indeed!'
'A Chinaman engaged in the East End; a man recently come from his own country, where he had come in contact with Europeans. He had actually been with Edward Harbor on one occasion, and seems to have made himself invaluable, for he speaks English well, and can cook and do other things. He offered to help us.'
'For money, of course!' exclaimed Mrs. Ebenezer, satirically.
'Of course, my dear; for what else? He has no direct interest in us. But supposing he were to succeed in helping us, then his interest comes in. We could afford to reward him handsomely.'
The lady leaning back in her chair nodded sharply, and looked at her husband with a cunning gleam in her eyes. She was beginning to see daylight Here, perhaps, was a means to defeat David Harbor and without subjecting him to violence. She fanned herself with a newspaper, for the sudden hope which the tale brought made her feel oppressively hot. 'We could afford to reward him handsomely,' she declared, in the most unctuous manner. 'What did you offer?'
'I gave him a hundred pounds for his expenses, and promised a thousand if he were successful.'
Mrs. Ebenezer clapped her hands energetically. She was delighted, and thoroughly in agreement with her husband. What a shrewd fellow he was, to be sure, she thought. Why, a thousand pounds was well spent if only they could destroy that will, the existence of which paralysed their own schemes, and might make paupers of them. Then a sudden doubt came to her mind, for like every schemer and dishonest person this lady was quick to perceive where this plan might break down. She imagined herself in the place of the Chinaman who had come to her husband, and cogitated what she would do under similar circumstances.
'Why,' she suddenly declared, in no little alarm, 'a hundred pounds is riches to a Chinaman. Supposing this ruffian makes off with your money, and does not try to help you. Supposing he forgets all about us once he has left the country?'
'He has left the country already,' came the swift and somewhat disconcerting answer. 'I sent him off hurriedly; he will not fail us.'
'Why?' Mrs. Clayhill was insistent. More than that, she was more than usually artful. In fact, Edward Harbor, poor fellow, could not have come across a woman less suited to his tastes and feelings, while Ebenezer Clayhill found in the widow of the late Edward Harbor a woman cunning and clever, and to some extent unscrupulous. To some large extent one might say, for who could describe the action of this pair as other than unscrupulous? Alas! the attempt to deprive a near relative of possessions due to him is nothing new. The same sort of sordid scheme has been practised many a time with variations, and sometimes with success. Not every case has been associated with a lad of David Harbor's nature, nor with one possessed of his determination and courage. Still, if in this particular affair there were such a person, as these two schemers had found already to their chagrin and cost, on the other side our hero was opposed to a couple of crafty people, of whom Mrs. Clayhill was by no means the inferior.
'How do you know that this fellow will not fail us?' she demanded, rising from her seat and walking to the window, which she threw up, as if the room were too hot for her. 'How? I am suspicious.'
'You always are, my dear,' chuckled her husband. 'But it will be all right. This Chinaman is the very man we want. I told you it was a piece of extraordinary good fortune his writing to me, for there is more to tell you about him. He is a deposed mandarin.'
'I thought no such person existed,' said Mrs. Clayhill quickly. 'A mandarin at fault is a dead mandarin, so far as I have been able to gather.'
'Unless he escapes. Unless he escapes, my dear,' suggested Mr. Ebenezer.
'Then this man? – '
'Escaped. Disguised himself, and made for Canton on a river boat. Then, thanks to his knowledge of English, he was able to ship aboard a vessel sailing for England. Once China was left behind he was safe, and the crafty fellow so contrived matters that it was assumed in his own country that he had become desperate, and had thrown himself into the river. That mandarin, to all intents and purposes, is dead. He can begin life again in China as an altogether different person, without incurring any suspicion. No one, not even the mandarin who had his trial in hand, and who had caused him to be arrested for an attack upon some Europeans would recognise him. Dao Chang is a name which none will associate with Hang Chiou, the mandarin who was to have been beheaded.'
'Attack on Europeans! This man a mandarin, and yet a servant to Europeans,' protested Mrs. Clayhill. 'I am bewildered. There is something missing in your description, Ebenezer.'
It was not at all remarkable that she was to some extent confused, for at the beginning of his tale of this Chinaman, the ruffian, who was the instigator of this attempt to rob David Harbor, had declared that the man had taken service with some Europeans, and could cook, as well as speak English. Then how could he be servant and mandarin at one and the same time? Surely there was an error in the narrative! But Ebenezer smiled cunningly as he noticed his wife's bewilderment, and again spread his hands out in a manner calculated to soothe her. Then he made a dive for his handkerchief, but remembering in time, rubbed both fat members together as if he were washing them. To speak with absolute impartiality the man looked, as he stood there in front of the fire, precisely and exactly what he was. He had the appearance of a mean, sneaking villain, capable of planning the most cunning plot from the security of his fireside, but sure to turn tail and decamp at the first sign of danger. But his wife was blind to his imperfections. Had she been as other women are, no doubt, she would have recoiled from this man. But Mrs. Clayhill was what she was, and guile and cunning pleased her. She went back to her chair, and sat down in the most placid manner, as if she were listening to the most ordinary tale.
'Go on, Ebenezer,' she lisped. 'You interest me vastly. Tell me more of this man who was mandarin and common servant.'
'And who was arrested for complicity in the murder of certain Europeans,' remarked her husband, promptly, and in the quietest tones, to which, however, he contrived to lend some subtle note that was easily detected. Swiftly his wife looked up, loosing all appearance of placidity.
'For complicity in the murder of certain Europeans,' repeated Ebenezer, watching his wife closely, and bringing into special prominence the last two words of his short sentence.
'Certain Europeans 'What do you mean? Ebenezer, I do declare, you bewilder me. Certain Europeans! Why, you can't mean that – '
There was a sleek smile on the man's face as she looked up at him. He appeared to be in that position where he hardly knew whether it would do, considering all the circumstances, to show pleasure here, though, knowing his wife as he did, he rather fancied she would not take umbrage if he were to show some trace of satisfaction. And he was right. Mrs. Clayhill smiled. After all, poor Edward Harbor was only a bitter memory to her.
'You can't mean that this man had to do with the murder of poor Edward,' she cried, attempting to assume horror, though there was no doubt at all that she was vastly interested. 'Tell me more,' she demanded eagerly. 'This man is a find indeed. I can't believe it possible. He implicated in that wretched affair! You will tell me next that he had something to do with this will which David has gone in search of.'
If Ebenezer ever allowed himself to laugh outright, he was as near as possible permitting himself that luxury on this occasion. His fat face reddened and beamed. His nose became peculiarly prominent on account of its heightened colour, and once more his hands washed oilily together. Ugh! He would have given an honest person a cold shiver.
'You are wonderfully far-seeing, my dear,' he laughed. 'And now you seem to have got to the depth of the story. This Hang Chiou, or to give him his modern name, Dao Chang, is as crafty as he is long-headed. It appears that Edward Harbor and his staff were working in his district, for Chang was only a minor official, and very poor at that. He saw that the expedition was possessed of certain riches, and moreover, he knew that they had discovered ancient bronzes which would bring money in one of the open ports. He decided to have that money. He gave out that he was going to Pekin on an official visit, and quietly disguised himself as a coolie. Then he took service with Edward Harbor and his partners. One day he led a band of coolies against them, and killed them all. Then he swore all the coolies to secrecy, and declared himself as the mandarin of the district. Of course, the bulk of the booty fell to him, and with it all Edward's papers. He had hardly returned home, however, making believe that he was from Pekin, when he was betrayed by a coolie, and at once arrested. You know the rest of the story.'
Truly it was a marvellous narrative; it was almost unbelievable – yet, why not? Unless the whole thing was a plot to obtain money. Mrs. Clayhill promptly voiced the doubts in her mind.
'He may have fooled you,' she declared. 'One hundred pounds would hardly tempt him to return to China. Most likely he is still here.'
But there was no doubt in the face of the man who had been speaking. Ebenezer looked confident. He chuckled as he thought of his own astuteness.
'My dear,' he proclaimed, with unusual emphasis, 'it requires a clever man to deceive me. Besides, I am very careful. I booked the man's passage. I saw him off. He was aboard when the ship was in mid-ocean. The wireless telegraph told me that with ease and certainty. No, let us have no doubts. Dao Chang does not require money alone to tempt him to China. He willingly risks his head to get even with the coolie who betrayed him, as also to work his revenge on the mandarin who was the actual cause of his downfall. Besides there is another reason. If he could earn the money I have promised, he could buy evidence to clear his name with the greatest certainty. He could even buy a position of some power, and of greater affluence. In fact, he could reinstate himself. There is his object.'
'But – '
'You cannot see farther. Quite so,' said this soft-spoken ruffian. 'I will proceed at once. Chang sailed promptly so as to land in China before the party to which David is attached. He will enter himself as one of their servants. Then he will earn his reward from us by taking possession of the will should they happen to find it. If not, he himself will make search for it on his own account. Should that happen he will have done with your stepson and his friends, though I suspect that he will relieve them of any valuables. He will send us the document so that we may destroy it, and will then be free to carry out his own business. Our affair first, you understand, his own afterwards.'
It was a crafty piece of scheming when all things were considered, and looking at the matter from Ebenezer's point of view there was no reason at all why he should not be eminently satisfied. For fortune seemed to have played fairly with him. The very ruffian who had instigated the murder of Edward Harbor had offered his services; and it was this Chinaman's direct interest to find the will for which David was journeying to the country of the Celestials. It was not as if the man had been asked to discover a jewel of vast value. For then one might easily have suspected his honesty and good intentions. Here only a document was in question, a piece of parchment, perhaps, with a few written lines upon it, valueless to all but our hero and the two schemers who should have been father and mother to him. Valueless in any case to Chang, the ruffianly Chinaman, so useless, in fact, that he would be eager to change it for the thousand pounds so readily offered by Ebenezer. Undoubtedly, the man who had married David's stepmother was delighted, and by the time he had finished his narrative, so also was Mrs. Clayhill.
'It is all wonderful and most fortunate. I can sleep in peace,' she ventured, 'for I know that no violence will be offered.'
She departed from the room in high feather, while hardly had the door closed when her husband smiled broadly, and in a most suggestive manner.'
'Clever woman,' he told himself. 'Precious clever; but I have to remember that she is a woman, with natural distaste of murders and sudden attacks. Glad I didn't tell her all that Chang hinted. What luck to be sure to have dropped on the fellow. You could have knocked me down with a hat pin when I received his letter.'
Perhaps it was as well that Ebenezer had not told his wife all the story; for there were parts of it to which that lady would most certainly have taken exception. As Ebenezer had remarked, Chang had hinted many things, and had, in fact, spoken openly.
'You leave it to me to stop this English boy, then?' he had asked, prior to his departure on the boat. 'If, for instance, I could send certain news that he was killed or drowned, or something of that sort, that would be sufficient?'
'I will pay a thousand pounds for that will with pleasure,' Ebenezer answered promptly. 'Of course, should this young fellow come by an accident, and his death be sworn to by a British Consul, then the money would be paid with equal pleasure.'
There was no need to say more. The two ruffians parted with the most perfect understanding, Chang to formulate schemes to bring about David's undoing. And very soon he had an opportunity to carry them out. He disembarked at Hong-Kong, and waited for the arrival of the steamer on which David and his friends had left England. Then he sneaked on board as a deck passenger, disembarking at Shanghai, where it will be remembered, the Professor and his party landed. And at once news reached Chang that a native boat was about to be chartered. It was an opportunity not to be missed. The Chinaman dived in amongst the ruck of men in the bazaar, and soon discovered others of equal villainy. It took little persuasion on his part to induce a man to offer his boat to the Professor, and but little work to organise a scheme of attack with a piratical vessel. Then Chang watched the departure with a grin on his ugly features.
'I think I shall be able to apply for that money very quickly,' he told himself. 'The scheme of attack is one which can hardly fail to be successful.'
Yet it failed, much to his fury. Thanks to Alphonse's watchfulness, and to the heroism of the whole party David and his friends escaped. It was the miscreants hired by Chang who suffered in the adventure, and indeed lost life and everything. Chang found himself at the beginning of his task again, and what was worse, was now far removed from the Professor and his party. However, that was a matter which could be remedied, and taking a boat along the coast it was not long before he landed at the port where the gun-boat commanded by the dapper little, English-speaking Chinese officer had set them.
'Foreign devils marched up country,' he was told, when he made cautious enquiries. 'Been gone some days, but you will easily catch them. They are making for the Ming To ruins.'
It was in that neighbourhood that the rascal Chang actually came up with the expedition, and thereafter set his wits to work to bring about the destruction of the party, and failing that, the death of David Harbor.
'I can crawl into the camp at night and slay him,' he told himself. 'Or I can fire at him while at work in the ruins. Yes, that is better. I shall certainly kill him.'
He crept off to a hovel where he had obtained a lodging, and throwing himself upon the kang, closed his eyes and gave himself up to deep contemplation. In Chang David had all unknowingly an enemy even more subtle and more dangerous than Ebenezer Clayhill.