OUTPOST IN CHINA

Wairarapa Times-Age, 6 July 1940, Page 10

OUTPOST IN CHINA

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

By

VAL GIELGUD.

Author of “Africa Flight” and Part Author of “Death at Broadcasting House.”

CHAPTER XXI. (Continued.) James smiled uneasily. “Janet’s always right,” he said. “I’d strongly recommend you to take Gerald out of it as soon as ever you can. Au revoir.” He shook hands, and went away again up the road. Sheila as still looklooking after him when Gerald flung open his door. “Who was that?” he demanded suspiciously. “Only the padre. I think he came to look for the body—but for yours or mine, he didn’t say.” “He’ll keep away, if he's wise,” said Gerald Havelock. The discovery that his hand was. so shaky as to make shaving next to impossible had not improved his temper. “Oh Gerry, do stop this blood and thunder rubbish. I'm so tired! And it’s such a foul morning!” “I think,” said Gerald, “you’ll take me seriously before I’ve done!” CHAPTER XXII. The Havelocks were still completing their respective toilets when Leslie Dale led General Wu in from the verandah. The Generals personal guards took post by the french window. Wu himself stood by the table, stroking his moustache. Dale sank exhaustedly into a chair, feeling as if every several limb in his body had been pounded into a jelly. “What a night, what a ride! A drink, General, while we wait for Mr Have--lock?" Wu accepted a glass of lime juifie and soda, and sat down.

"You quite appreciate what I want done?” Dale pursued. “That is so, Mr Dale.”

“It is to our mutual advantage," Dale continued, “to allow Mr Havelock to believe that he has settled this matter himself. , Then he will take peace with honour back to Shanghai, and be happy to resign in my favour.” The General was observing with a slightly sardonic glance a large photograph of Sheila that sood on the desk. It was an enlargement of a snapshot taken at Ascot. She looked very pretty, very young, and extraordinarily civilised . . .

“We say in China," said Wu, “that one day of wedded life deserves a hundred days of kindness. I shall be pleased to show Mr Havelock the kindness he deserves.”

Leslie Dale repressed a smile. “I’m afraid you’re old-fashioned in your ideas about marriage. General.” Wu crossed one spurred boot over the other.

“Those who knew,” said he, “do not speak. Those who speak do not know.” “As you realise,” said Leslie laughing, “I like you immensely. But I doubt if I can accept you as a moralist.”

“The Sage does not reject good words because they are spoken by an evil man," observed Wu rather coldly. "Like the Devil’s quotations from scripture—l see. Tell me. General. Just why do you, prefer me to Mr Havelock as agent in charge at Tan Fu?”

“Tigers and deer, we say in China, do not stroll together in friendship.” “And one good tiger deserves another —is that it?”

“Precisely,” agreed Wu. “I will try to explain. You and I, Mr Dale, understand one another. I have studied English history in Canton and San Francisco, and I believe that I can without inexactitude, class you as a Victorian. You believe in yourj God, in your Monarch, and in the British Navy.”

“I suppose I do,” said Dale slowly, and then added with. “Yes, and by George one might well believe in worse things!" “Mr Havelock on the other hand," the General continued suavely, "believes in nothing. I know students so well. We have suffered much in China from their activities. They prefer to flounder in a morass of scepticism, and to drown in a slough of melancholy, rather than to live happily by believing in a few dull but simple platitudes. Mr Havelock is still in mind a student, except that he no longer studies. He remains a boy—but your country and mine share the proverb that in the boy you see the man. He is amiable, but he is not practical. He is clumsy. He lacks dignity. 1 can neither respect him as a friend, nor admire him as an enemy—as I do you. Mr Dale.” “Thank you!” said Leslie. “You are like your Navy, in which you believe,” the General went on. “If you say you will shoot, you will shoot. If you tell me it will be to my advantage not to loot Tan Fu. you will make good your words. Mr Havelock is like your politicians. He draws a pistol, and then shakes his finger. His words are incalculable. I cannot trust him.”

Leslie sat up. "I certainly mean what 1 say now General."

“That is so," Wit agreed. lie lighted one of his thin Russian cigarettes and blew smoke luxuriously through his nostrils. “I have read your Kipling, Mr Dale. Men like Kipling, and like you won and held the East for your country. You are a foreign devil and an oppressor of my country. But we can understand each other.” Lselic Dale got awkwardly to his feet. “So long as we do,” he said, “that's all right. You will agree formally to Mr Havelock's terms, and then pass him under safe conduct to the care of the British Consulate at Chungking.” “Mr Havelock should be grateful to you. Mr Dale.” “His gratitude leaves me cqld!”

“It is an attribute of the superior man," smiled Wu. "Even lambs, we say in China, have the grace to suck, kneeling." “All I want is for him to go—and! with colours flying!" said Leslie. The] General's unvarying politeness and his apparently inexhaustible reservoir of

proverbs were beginning to get on his nerves, raw as they were from the strain of the previous night. “He will be wise to go,” Wu was saying quietly. “For he who renounces fame has- no sorrow —-—” He broke off as Gerald re-entered the room. He was shaved and dressed, and except for his white strained face looked almost normal. He looked round for Sheila, and drew a breath of relief to see that she was not there. "How are you, Dale?” he said, casually. "I apologise for keeping you waiting. I suppose that your coming like this means that we can reopen yesterday's discussion?"

“That is .so,” said Wu, slightly inclining his head. Gerald clenched his fists. “You must understand,” he said, “that I don’t budge an inch from what I said before. I’m prepared to meet force with force if you persist in ” "My dear Gerald,” Leslie interrupted hurriedly, for he did not like what he imagined he saw in the General's eyes at the threat, “the General is ready to come to an arrangement.” “Oh. is he?” And with the wind thus taken out of his sails; Gerald felt staggered, hardly knowing what to do next.

He glanced from the General to Leslie Dale.

“Before I do anything else silly.” he stammered on, "I think I'd better give you this —”

He put his hand .into his pocket, and took out the automatic pistol. As he stretched out his hand, holding the the weapon, there came the crash of a heavy revolver fired at close range. One of Wu's bodyguards,.remembering Gerald’s threats from the previous interview. had not chosen to wait for further orders.

The sight of the white man's pistol had been enough for him to whip his Mauser from its holster, and fire. At such a distance a miss was impossible. Gerald’s body crumpled like an empty sack, and dropped to the floor. Wu snapped out an order in Chinese to his guards, who withdrew in tactful silence. When he turned round Leslie Dale had picked Gerald up bodily in his arms, and Sheila Havelock, white to the lips, was standing in her bedroom doorway. Without a word Leslie carried Gerald past her, and laid him on her bed. He lay quite still, his eyes closed, an ominous dark stain spreading through his shirt and over the breast of his jacket. Sheila, her face distorted- with horror, stood helplessly with her back to the door. There was nothing for her to do. Dale was effecting the necessary bandaging with his usual quiet efficiency. In the sitting-room General Wu stood and stroked his moustache. “This,” he murmured, “is a most unfortunate occurrence.” "It’s worse than that," said Leslie “Is the wound serious” asked Wu. “He’s dead,” said Leslie grimly. “Ah!” Wu drew in his breath sharply. “That man of mine is a good shot.” Dale strode up to him and faced him full. “He may be the best shot of all you ruffians, General,” he said, “but you’ll hang him! Unless you prefer to hand him over to me or a British Consul to hang him for you.” Wu's expression did not change. “I will do it,” he said. “As you say truly in England, Justice is blind. The man with within his duty. Yesterday, but for Mr James, Mr Havelock would have shot me. Today he draws a weapon in front of my bodyguards. What could you expect?” “Frankly,” said Leslie Dale, “I don’t care a hoot about that.” “Nor do I." agreed Wu. with a shrug. “We must all pay for our mistakes. Mr Havelock has paid—and my man will pay. Does that satisfy you?” “No," said Dale, flatly. “I must be there to see the sentence carried out. You will then give me a reliable escort to take Mrs Havelock and myself as far as Chungking.” Wu raised his eyebrows.

“You intend after all to run away from Tan Fu?” he suggested, with the suspicion of a sneer. “No,” repeated Dale, "and you ought to know as much! Mrs Havelock can’t stay here in the circumstances. But I'll be back within a week. And if you or any of your ruffians have as much as set a foot in Tan Fu while I'm away. I'll raise and arm a party myself and send you all to blazes! Understand?” Wu sighed softly. “True words, we say in China, are not fine. Fine words are not true. Your words are not fine, I understand.” "Very well. I shall ride out to your camp this evening.” "I shall be honoured to see you,” said Wu Tso Ling. He saluted gravely; bowed his head ceremoniously towards the door behind which lay Gerald Havelock's body; saluted again, and walked out to his pony.

Leslie remained staring increduloucly at the stained matting where Gerald had fallen. But for that stain, the persisting reek of powder, and Sheila's strangled sobbing which he could hear through the closed door, he could not have believed that the tragedy had happened. Almost for lhe first time in his life Leslie Dale realised that competence without imagination might bo inadequate for all purposes. > (To be Continued).