The Mandarin's Fan. Fergus Hume

long story short, I told him that I had seen the fan—"

      "You saw the fan," asked Tidman directing a side look at Forge.

      "A dream—a dream," said the doctor.

      "No," insisted the young man. "I feel sure I have seen that fan, I can't think where. Perhaps it is amongst my father's effects sent from China by Lo-Keong years ago——"

      "Twenty years ago," said Dr. Forge, "and Lo-Keong would hardly send his own fan. I remember the things coming. I came home immediately before. A Chinaman brought your father's papers and luggage to Royabay. He left them with your mother and went away."

      "Were you not with my father when he died?" asked Rupert, "I always understood you were."

      "No. I was at Pekin at the time. Your father and I were working the mine together, and I went about some imperial concessions. While there I heard that your father was dead."

      "Was he murdered?" asked Rupert earnestly.

      "I really can't say, Lo-Keong said that he died of dysentery, but he was always a liar. He wouldn't be so high in favour with the Court if he wasn't. Lying is a fine art in the Far East, and—"

      "Yes—Yes," said Tidman impatiently, "but what has all this to do with the fan?"

      "I think it's all of a piece myself," said Rupert, "and I intend to get to the bottom of it. I have seen that fan somewhere—but I can't think—I can't," he reflected and shook his head, "no. But I have seen it doctor, so its no use your shrugging your shoulders. I want to find it and get that five thousand pounds."

      "What?" cried the Major leaping up on his stout little legs.

      "Lo-Keong is willing to give five thousand pounds for the return of his fan," said Ainsleigh, who had walked to the door, "and I intend to earn it."

      "Against my advice," said Forge looking up oddly.

      Rupert laughed. "Oh you are afraid," he said smiling.

      "Of you, not of myself. I know what the Chinese are, and have studied the race for years. I know how to deal with them; but you will get into trouble if you meddle with this fan business."

      "And so I say," cried Tidman emphatically.

      "Why, what do you know of the Chinese, Major?" asked Rupert.

      "More than I like to think of," said the little man wiping his bald head. "I went out to China for a trip seven years ago and met with an adventure in Canton—ugh!"

      "What sort of an adventure?"

      "Ugh!" grunted the Major again, "don't talk about it. It makes me cold to think of it. The Chinese are demons. Forge got me out of the trouble and I left China never to set foot in it again I hope. Ainsleigh, if you want that curse of yours to be realised, meddle with the fan. But if you want to keep your life and your skin, leave the matter alone."

      "I'm going to get that five thousand pounds," said Rupert, obstinately, "as soon as I can recollect where I saw that fan. The memory will come back to me. I am sure it will. Doctor you won't help me."

      "No," said Forge decisively. "I advise you to leave the matter alone."

      "In that case I must search it out myself. Good-day," and Ainsleigh strolled out of the room, lightheartedly enough, as he whistled a gay tune. Major Tidman looked grimly at the closed door, and then still more grimly at the doctor, who was paring his nails.

      "Our young friend is ambitious," he said.

      Forge laughed gently. "You can hardly blame him. He wants to marry Miss Rayner and save his ancestral home, so I am quite sure he will search for the fan."

      "He won't find it then," said the Major petulantly.

      "Won't he?" questioned Forge sweetly, "well, perhaps not. By the way you want to see me Major. Mrs. Bressy tells me you called at least twice yesterday."

      "Yes. She didn't know when you would be back."

      "I never tell her. I like to take the old lady unawares. She is a Dickens' character, with a fondness for drink, and for taking things which don't belong to her. I always go away and come back unexpectedly. Yesterday I was in Paris. Now I am at Marport. Well?"

      The Major had contained himself with difficulty all this time, and had grown very red in the face. The colour changed to a lively purple, as he burst out. "See here Forge what's the use of talking to me in this way. You have that fan."

      "Have I," said Forge smiling gently.

      "Yes. You know well enough that the very fan—the jade fan with the five beads, was the cause of my getting into trouble in Canton. You got me out of the trouble and you asked me to give you the fan, when I thanked you."

      "And you refused," said Forge still smiling.

      "Well I did at first," said Tidman sulkily. "I risked my life over the beastly thing, and—"

      Forge raised a thin hand. "Spare yourself the recital. I know."

      "Well then," went on Tidman excitedly. "You asked again for it when you came home, and I gave it to you. Ainsleigh is quite right. He did see the fan. I showed it to him one day before you arrived. I see he has forgotten, but any stray thought may revive his memory. I don't want him to have the fan."

      "Why not?" asked Forge shutting his knife with a click.

      "Because I want the five thousand pounds for myself. I'm not so well off as people think, and I want—"

      "You forget," said Forge gently, "you gave me the fan."

      "And have you got it?"

      "I have," he nodded towards a cabinet of Chinese work adorned with quaint figures, "it's in there."

      "Give it to me back."

      "No. I think I'll keep it."

      "What do you want to do with it?" asked Tidman angrily.

      Forge rose and looked stern, "I want to keep it from Lo-Keong," he said savagely, "there's some secret connected with that fan. I can't understand what the secret is or what the fan has to do with it: but it means life and death to this Mandarin. He'd give ten thousand—twenty thousand to get that fan back. But he shan't."

      "Oh," groaned the Major, "why did I give it to you. To think that such a lot of money should go begging. If I had only known what the fan was worth."

      "You knew nothing about it save as a curiosity."

      "How do you know," demanded the Major.

      Forge who had turned towards the cabinet wheeled round and looked more like a hawk than ever as he pounced on the stout man. "What do you know?" and he clawed Tidman's plump shoulders.

      "Let me go confound you," blustered the Major, "what do you mean by assaulting a gentleman—"

      "A gentleman." Forge suddenly released the Major and laughed softly, "does Benjamin Tidman, old Farmer Tidman's son call himself so. Why I remember you—"

      "Yes I know you do, and so does that infernal Pewsey cat."

      Forge suddenly became attentive. "Miss Pewsey if you please. She is my friend. I may—" Forge halted and swallowed something. "I may even marry her some day."

      "What," shouted Tidman backing to the wall, "that old—old—"

      "Gently my good Benjamin, gently."

      "But—but you're not a marrying man."

      "We never know what we are till we die," said Forge turning again towards the black cabinet, "but you needn't mention what I have said. If you do," Forge snarled like an angry cat and shot one glance from his gray eyes that made Tidman shiver: then he resumed his gentle tone. "About this fan. I'll make a bargain with you."

      "What's that?" asked the Major avariciously.

      "I'll