OUTPOST IN CHINA

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 60, Issue 196, 28 May 1940, Page 7

OUTPOST IN CHINA

By VAL GIELGUD.

CHAPTER XVIII. SHEILA IS UNMOVED. Sheila crossed the room to lier bedroom door. “Then you must wait alone, Gerry," she said. “I’m in no state to receive visitors like this. I propose to wash and change. It would be nice, you know, to find you in a human state of mind when I come back." “You’re pretty cool,’’ muttered Gerald. ‘ ‘Cold, but not the least pretty at the moment,” retorted his wife. “No, Gerald. You can shoot me if you like. But if you don’t I’m going to put a comb through my hair. If you want any food you’d better get it yourself. I don’t want any breakfast." Her hand was on the door handle) but Gerald stopped her. “Sheila. —” “Well?" , He bit his lip, and flushed. “I suppose," he muttered, “I made a pretty average fool of myself last night. “You did," agreed Sheila cheerfully. “Well above the average." “I suppose it’s the morning after —or something—but somehow —well, I don’t feel the same way about things this morning," he stammered' miserably. “Look hero, Sheila, even now, couldn’t we —?" “No good, Gerry. I’m sorry. I must change." Gerald found himself alone. He stuffed his pistol into his pocket, refingered cheeks and chin with acute' distaste, and slouched across to the sideboard. With a certain air of defiarfce he mixed himself a. stiff drink, swallowed it, coughed violently, then picked up the second can of water which Sheila had left beside his bedroom door and carried it in. Jealously, decision and alike died out of him in the cold grey morning light. He hardly bothered eye,m to wonder what could have happened to Leslie Dale ... Sheila had been waiting for the sound of his door closing. The moment she heard it, she tiptoed back into the sitting-room, and ran out on to the veranda. The distant hills were shrouded in mist.. The road was bare and empty. Sheila stood, her hands pressed to her breast, her heart thudding painfully. The sudden appearance below her of a single walking figure made her gasp. But it was Patrick James, wearing a singularly shabby raincoat, and an expression almost ludicrously anxious.

Sheila put her fingers hurriedly to her lips, and waited for him to climb the steps before she spoke. “I’ve been worrying about you all night," said James hastily. “Janet sent me over the moment I woke up. What’s happened?” “Nothing," said Sheila indifferently. “I told you not to worry." “I’m immensely relieved to find you all right. Where’s Gerald?" Sheila smiled,

“Shaving, I devoutly trust," she said. “Has your wife forgiven me?" “I don’t think," said Patrick James “that she has anything to forgive."

“I DON’T BELONG."

Sheila laughed outright

““You know, M(V James, one of the best excuses for sinners is that good people are so exasperating!” “And vice versa, surely?” suggested the missionary. i “Dfyou know, I never thought of that!” “Sure there’s nothing I can do for you, Mrs Havelock?” 'Sheila hesitated. “It’s awfully kind of you—Leslie ©‘ale’s bound to pass your place on the road back. If you could just warn him about this silly attitude of Gerald’s—l meant if you could persuade him to stop with you for the time being—” “I’ll try by all means. Hut, knowing Leslie, I’m afraid it won’t be “the least' good. 'He can take care of himself, you know.” “Thanks awfully,” said Sheila. “You know, Mr James, I do appreciate your kindness really I do. Just as inside me I really like Janet.; It’s this beastly place! I don’t belong. I know that

Romance in the Orien

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now. So it’s brought out all the worst in me, just as it’s brought out all the best in you and Janet." James smiled uneasily. “Janet’s always right," ho said. “I’d strongly recommend you to take Gerald out of it as soon as ever you can. An revoir.” He shook hands, and . went away again up the road. Sheila, was still looking after him when Gerald flung open his door. “Who was that?" lie demanded suspiciously. “Qnlv the padre. I think he came to look for the body —but for yours or mine lie didn’t say."

“He’ll keep away, if lie’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’in so tired! And it’s such a foul morning!” “I think," said Gerald, “you’ll take me seriously before I’ve done!" DOWN FROM THE HILLS. The Havelocks were still completing their respective toilets when Leslie Dale led General Wu in from the verandah. The General’s 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 Havelock?"

Wu 'accepted a glass of lime juice 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 alloAV Mr HaVelock to believe that he lias 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 stood 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 know," said he, Gdo not speak. Those who speak do not know." “As you realise," said Leslie laughing, “I like you immefisely. But I doubt if I can accept you as a moralist." !

“The Sage does not reject good words because they arc 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 your God, in your Monarch, and in the British Navy.” “I suppose I do,” said Dale slowly, and then added with spirit, “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 be 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. Hex is clumsy. Ho lacks dignity. I can neither respect him as a friend, nor admire him as an enemy—as I do you, Mr Dale.” \ “Thank you!” said Leslie. “I CANNOT TRUST HIM.” “You are like your Navy, in which you believe,” the General went on. “If vou say you will shoot, you will shoot. Tf you tell me it will be to my advantage not to loot Tan Fu, you will make good your words. He draws a pistol, and then shakes his finger. His words are incalculable. I cannot trust him. ’ Leslie sat* up. ' “I certainly mean what I say now, General.”

“That is so.” Wu agreed. He lighted one of his thin Russian cigarettes and blew smoke luxuriously through his nostrils. “I have read your Kipling, Mr Dale. Mon. 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 understood each other.”

Leslie Dale got awkwardly to his feet. “So long as we do,” he said, “that’s ail right. You will agree formally to Mr Havelock’s terms, and then pass him under safe conduct to the oare of the British Consulate at Chunking.” “Mr Havelock should be grateful to vou, Mr Dale.” “His gratitude leaves me cold!” “It is an attribute of the superior man.” smiled Wu. “Even lambs, we sa.v 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 bis apparently inexhaustible reservoir of proverbs were beginning to get on bis nerves, raw as they were from the strain of the previous night. “He will be wise to go,” Wu was saying quietly. “For ho 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 look-

ed almost normal. He looked round for Sheila, and drew a breath of relief to see that she was not there.

“How are you, Dale?” lie 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 tho 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 (To he continued).