The Mandarin Coat.

Feilding Star, Volume V, Issue 1402, 28 January 1911, Page 5 (Supplement)

The Mandarin Coat.

AND THE TRAGEDY OF BOW ( SING. Wong Lee sat at the window of his Doyers street room and gazed apprehensively at the motley throng below. Bow Sing clung tightly ; to him with her eyes wide and staring, too, for she disliked the strange crowds, the

odours, and the dirty, flowerless streets. America might be the place to make money, and New York the best place in America, but Bow Sing shrank from it all and wished herself back in Hong Kong again. •Wong Lee's thoughts were different. He was nervous and tired after the long trip across the continent, and still feared that he and Bow Sing might be yet found out and sent back as "smuggled goods," but he enjoyed the excitement of being in a strange land, and imagined he could hear already the clink of the American gold he was destined to get. Fortune had so far favoured Wong Lee. He and his pretty child-wife, Bow Sing, had come to New York by way of Mexico, had slipped over the border easily and had landed among good friends. Sam Lee, the richest merchant in Chinatown, had been the best friend of Wong Lee's father, and when the latter felt he was about to die, Sam Lee had written, saying he would care for the youth.

True, Sam Lee had known nothing of Bow Sing, and when she arrived with Wong, Sam Lee's eyes opened wide and he frowned a little. A woman to Sam Lee meant trouble, especially when her cheeks reflected roses and her feet were no bigger than a doll's. Wives like Bow Sing were scarce in America and were much to be desired.

But when Wong had told his story, Sam Lee patted bis cheeks and told him he had dono right to bring Bow Sing along. Wong Lee's father had left but little money. It had been the dream of his life to see his son and Bow Sing united before he died. And he had had his wish. Bow Sing's dowry had not been big, but with what Wong Lee obtained through his father's death, it had been enough to bring them to America, with something left for.the business into which Wong was going. Sam Lee had promised Wong a place in his Mott street tea store, with a prospect of getting a partnership in the years to come. Truly, the future looked bright for Wong" Lee and his pretty child-wife. Bow Sing. They had been in the Doyers street room one day. Already Bow Sing had shown how useful a wife could be, as the walls with their pretty decorations proved.

Carefully _ spread over the couch was something that had caused Sam Lee's eyes to open even wider than when at first he beheld the beauty of Bow Sing, lt was the only thing of his father's belongings that Wong Lee had not sold before leaving for America. This he m_st not sell, for it was his father's mandarin coat, handed down from many generations, and gazed at with awe, for the time had long gone past when coats such as that could be made by man. At first the coat seemed to be one blaze of colours, with no definite pattern or scheme to the work upon it. But if one looked long and searchingly a wonderful array of things spread out into view.

It became plain that hundreds upon hundreds of dragons wore embroidered in amazing array upon the .blue silk background. Then, if one kept on looking, the. faces of the dragons stood out more plainly and took on a fearsome aspect . From every dragon's head darted a tongue, long, red and forked. The eyes of the dragons gleamed red and green aud seemed to be alive. And the longer one looked the more terrible did the appearance of the dragoiis seem to get until one was glad to put the coat down and turn away from its mysteries. Wong Lee well remembered his father's words when the coat was given to him.

"Lead an upright life and these dragons will guard yon from harm," he had said; "but should you bring dishonour to your name they will destroy you. I would that the coat might be given into some other's hands, but there is a legend attached to it which says it will follow our household until all are dead. Therefore, you cannot hope to dispose of it." This warning had sounded very terrible to Wong Lee at the time, but he had almost forgotten it now, and, in fact, after getting over the first fear of the thing, decided his father had taken that means to give him some good advice. One night Wong Lee had a caller. Moy Chow the visitor gave as his name, and he beamed on Wong as he related his mission. He had learned of Wong as a newcomer and bad been delegated to ask him to join a club. The fees were small, the enjoyments many, and besides, all those in Chinatown who amounted to anything were members. Wong and Moy Chow talked long and earnestly while Bow Sing listened hehind the kitchen door with fear gripping her heart. She •almost gave a little moan when she heard Wong say he would join, and after the visitor had gone she threw herself into Wong's arms weeping. After a while, Wong had talked to her and told her all about it, Bow Sing felt a little bit ashamed. He would only De at the club two nights a we/-k, and, even though Bow Sing was the light of his life and he would rather talk .to her than anyone in the world, still a man should have some friends- of his own kind. So in a few minutes everything was right again, and Bow Sing smiled bravely two nights later when Wong went out into the narrow street for' his first club meeting.

But the two nights a week soon grew into three, and three into four, and so on until it was seldom that Bow Sing saw Wong until many hours of weary watching every night at the window. And then at times Wong appeared so stupid and dull and listless, although his eyes seemed bright. But his voice would be thick and his walk unsteady, so she feared Wong was ill.

Then Sam Lee called one lonely night and told her. He had noticed the change in Wong and had made inquiries. It was Saki wine that brightened Wong's eyes, but it was fium that dulled his senses, and ong also was gambling. •Bow Sing cried a little after Sam Lee had gone. When Wong tottered into the room that night she told him what she knew and then sat silent.

"It is true," replied Wong, "but it is too late to turn back."

"Too late, too late!" What did he mean? asked Bow Sing. Wasn't Sam Lee ready to help them ;■ wasn't she with him? Couldn t he leave the club and come back to her?

"No," said Wong, and he told her why. He had begun, as all the others had with opium, to smoke a little. This had been pleasant and there was no reaction. But as the habit grew so did the after-effects.until now

the dreaded "yen-yen," the pain that racks brain and body until the lungs are filled with smoke, had him in its grip and he was a fiend.

During the next month Wong installed a layout in the room, and often had his friendsup to smoke with him. Wong was not so particular about keeping Bow Sing out of sight now and he often dragged her into the room before his admiring fellows. Moy Chow was a, frequent caller, and his gaze was often centered on Bow Sing in a manner that caused her blood to freeze and leave her shaking as with ague. Then came the final blow. Wong had been away for two days and nights when Sam Lee called and broke the news to Bow Sing.- Wong had made her the stake in the fan tan game of the night before, and Moy Chow had won her.

Bow Sing listened in silence this time and then did a very queer thing. While Sam Lee grovelled on the floor and groaned as he saw her resolve, she cut a piece of red flannel into a strip and tied it round her throat. Then she sat down and quietly waited, while Sam Lee rushed into the street, moaning and searching for Wong. Wong's senses were not so dulled that he could not comprehend the full meaning of what Sam Lee told him. The ' "Badge of Death" . that Bow Sing had tied around her throat could not be recalled with honour. Within forty-eight hours Bow Sing would die by her own hand, and he, Wong, had driven her to it.

Wong tore at his hair and begged and pleaded with her to break tho resolve that he knew in his heart she would not, could not, with honour, revoke.

And as he pleaded the door was thrown open and Moy Chow entered. Then Bow Sing arose and threw back her head and laughed as Moy Chow staggered back aghast as he read the message on the fair throat of the prize he had coveted. Bow Sing's red lips parted in a little smile, as she gazed around the room for a moment. Then, as Moy Chow's snarl of rage warned her that he might attempt to take her after all, she ran quickl- to the window and plunged head first to the stonepaved street.

As the door closed upon Moy Chow's shaking lorin,' Wong sank back on the couch with terror widening his eyes. The .am that he had often felt of late was returning, but this time a thousandfold worse. He reached for the opium box, but it was empty, and, with his temples hammering into his ears, he fell back on his knees at the side of the couch.

It was queer that his face should have reached on an exact level with the. top of the couch where the mandarin coat lay, but that is exactly what happened. And it was strange too; it seemed to Wong that the dragons' eyes gleamed so. Surely they weren't moving? Of course, not. That was simply his imagination. But the pain—the pain! Why was it that his whole head felt as if it would burst, and as if the tongues of the dragons were shooting out at him ?

They were moving I They were growing larger! They- were filling the room! Their breath was on him, their mouths open and their tongues

"After that Chinese girl jumped out of that window in Doyes street,' '■ said Patrolman .heehan to the lieutenant in the Elizabeth street station. "We found the room she had lived in was on fire. 'After it was put out we found a Chink in there burned to death. He had tipped over the lamp of an opium layout. His body was lying on this coat. It must have been a peach eh? Take a look at it." "Some class to that Chink," replied! the lieutenant, handing back the scorched mandarin coat. "Send i_ along with the two bodies to th_ coroner."