The Island Where Time Stands Still (36 page)

‘That night, by means of a written conversation, I discussed her situation with her. I found her both straightforward and intelligent. Her mother had told her both of the Generalissimo's offer and of the way in which she had been threatened. Like myself, the Princess was convinced that the Communists had murdered her mother, and was then in terror for her own life. I renewed the offer that I had made her mother several years before, of giving her a home here at Yen-an, and she gladly accepted.'

As Lin Wân came to the end of his story, his listeners automatically ran over it again in their minds; and, except for a few very minor points, it seemed to explain perfectly the events that had puzzled them for so long. It was A-lu-te who enquired:

‘Did she say nothing to you of a law student with whom she was in love?'

Lin Wân's bald forehead creased in a frown. ‘I seem to remember her saying something about a young man to whom she regretted not having been able to say good-bye. But she did not seem to be particularly upset about that.'

‘We were surprised to find, though,' Gregory remarked, ‘that she neither returned to the flat for her clothes, nor sent someone for them.'

With a shrug, Lin Wân replied, ‘To have allowed her to go ashore during the three days before the ship sailed would have been to have risked her being killed. As for sending for her things, they were of little value and but a bagatelle once she had become the ward of a rich man like myself.'

His reference to his great wealth stirred another query in Gregory's mind. How was it, if he had had such friendly feelings towards Madame Août, that, after her refusal of his invitation to make her home in Yen-an, he had allowed her to continue living in near poverty, instead of making some provision for her and the little Princess about whose future he professed later to have shown considerable concern? And yet another thought. Surely Lin Wân would have given Quong-Yü his reasons for wishing to have Josephine abducted. Why had Quong-Yü made no mention of Lin
Wân's fears for the girl and his belief that her mother had been murdered?

Both were questions which Lin Wân could not be asked, and both no doubt had adequate explanations. A minute later it became a waste of time even to consider them further, for Lin Wân was speaking again, and he said:

‘Having made myself this elevated young person's protector, I brought her here, and as long as she wishes to stay under my roof she is most welcome. But this evening I will present you to her, and should she wish to leave here with you she is perfectly at liberty to do so.'

Kâo bowed his thanks, A-lu-te clapped her hands with excitement, and Gregory smothered a sigh of relief. The long trail to find the Princess had been so beset with difficulties and dangers that he had been quite prepared for Lin Wân to conclude his story by saying that she had been removed from his care in mysterious circumstances, or had, after all, decided to accept the Generalissimo's proposals and gone to Formosa. That she was really there, somewhere quite nearby in another room of the great house, and free if she wished to return with them, seemed almost an anti-climax.

None the less, when a few hours later, after another rich meal, Lin Wân and Madame Fan-ti led them towards the Princess Josephine's apartments, Gregory admitted to himself that the moment of actually coming face to face with her would be one of the most exciting he had known for a very long time.

The room into which Madame Fan-ti showed them was not a large one, but it was a lovely setting for a young and beautiful woman. Its walls were covered with yellow silk—not the muddy Imperial yellow but a bright golden colour—which had just here and there a butterfly embroidered upon it. The carpet was a paler gold with a broad edging and intricate lozenges in blue. The furniture was light in design, and on its larger surfaces there was engraved a pattern of branches with inlaid chips of mother of pearl to represent almond blossom.

It was evident that the Princess had been prepared for her visitors, as she was dressed and bejewelled with considerable richness; but no doubt Madame Fan-ti had advised her that this first interview with them might prove easier if she laid no special stress on her royalty, for she received them informally seated on the edge of a dragon-headed day-bed.

Nevertheless, Kâo and A-lu-te at once went down on their knees and, performing the ancient
k'o-t'ou
, knocked their heads three times on the floor at her feet. With a pretty gesture she smilingly signed to them first to rise then to be seated in chairs near her.

Gregory had remained with the Lins in the background, and contented himself with a deep bow; but she quickly signalled to them all to be seated. She was, he thought, undoubtedly a good-looking girl, but she appeared somewhat older than he had expected. Her face, also, had something slightly un-Chinese about it.
Obviously the financial strain that she had shared with her mother while living in America had aged her a little beyond her twenty years, and her Manchu descent accounted for her strong nose and the lack of fullness in her lips.

Kâo had already launched into an account of the island from which they had come, and the origin of its colonisation. As she encouraged him with understanding nods from time to time, he continued for about half an hour, and wound up with the reason why they had come so far to find her.

When he had finished she looked inquiringly at Lin Wân, and he said gravely, ‘Illustrious lady, this is a weighty decision for one of your tender years to be called on to make. Your Imperial blood carries with it certain obligations. If, in normal times, it fell to your lot to ascend the throne of our ancient Empire, there could be no excuse for your attempting to resist the divine command. But this is a matter of inclination rather than duty. Should you feel yourself capable of filling the unusual and exalted position that is offered you, your doing so will bring happiness to a considerable number of excellent people; so you would be wrong to refuse it. On the other hand, should you be troubled by grave doubts of your fitness to reign over this island kingdom, and prefer to continue to accept, as long as it is available, the few amenities of my humble home, no blame whatever can attach to your refusal of this offer.'

Gregory felt that Lin Wân could not have put the matter more fairly, and he awaited the Princess's reply with the greatest interest.

Picking up a brush from a writing set on a small table conveniently near her, she laboriously drew some characters on a long slip of paper, then handed it to Kâo.

For a moment he regarded it with a puzzled frown, then Lin Wân looked over his shoulder, smiled and said, ‘I notice an improvement; but I fear the Princess has not yet learned to draw our complicated characters very clearly.
Naturally, she has no difficulty in understanding the spoken word; but, you see, to transmit Chinese by the sign language used by the dumb is extremely laborious. As Madame Août's second tongue was French they always used that when together, and when other people were present the Princess wrote her replies to them in that language. Fortunately I am well acquainted with French myself; so since she became my ward she has also used it to write her replies to me, and I think it would be as well if, for a time at least, she did so with you.'

Having followed their conversation with an anxious look, Josephine picked up a fountain pen and another piece of paper; and began to write on it in a large sprawling hand.

She was still writing when Kâo muttered unhappily, ‘This is most unfortunate. I have never learnt French, and know only the few phrases I picked up during business trips to Paris and while on holidays in France.' Turning to A-lu-te he added, ‘You do not speak French either, do you?'

She shook her head. ‘No, uncle. I can neither speak nor read it.'

Seeing the look of distress that had come over Josephine's face, Gregory came to the rescue and addressed her in French:

‘Your Highness will perceive that I speak French fluently. Should you decide to return with us to the island, during the journey I should be honoured to act as your interpreter.'

Her expression immediately brightened, and for a moment it seemed as though she was about to speak, but she made only a little throaty noise. Then she finished what she was writing and handed the slip to Gregory.

The message was ill-spelt and ungrammatical, which told him that she could never have learnt French properly; but he suddenly remembered that her affliction had debarred her from going to school, so she must have picked it up colloquially from her mother. However, her meaning was quite clear, and he gave a free rendering of it in Chinese for the benefit of Kâo and A-lu-te.

‘The Princess writes that she is most sensible of the high honour that you propose for her; but she is deeply indebted to Mr. Lin Wân for having saved her from the Communists, and has become very attached to him and his wife; so she would be loath to leave them. She asks that you should give her time to think the matter over.'

Kâo replied to her by explaining the danger in which the yacht lay of being forcibly requisitioned by the Communists each time she entered Chinese waters. The journey from the coast had taken somewhat longer than they had anticipated, so thirty-one days had already elapsed since they had left her. That meant that they would miss her on her first return to the old mouth of the Hwang-ho, and could hope to catch her on her second return, a week later, only if they started back within the next two or three days.

In answer to this the Princess drew a few simple strokes which embodied the meaning, ‘Sunset tomorrow.'

Assured now of receiving her decision as soon as it was reasonably possible to expect it, Kâo became much more cheerful, and talked to her for some time of the beauties of the island, its riches, and the secure, orderly, peaceful life led by its people.

Scribbling on her block in French, she asked a number of questions about it, and wrote a pretty compliment to A-lu-te upon the unusual colour of her golden eyes; all of which were translated by either Lin Wân or Gregory. Then, as this somewhat difficult conversation began to flag, Madame Fan-ti said that Josephine must be tired from so much excitement. On this excuse they wished her good night and bowed themselves from her room.

Outside the women's quarters they found Tû-lai patiently waiting for them. As it was still early A-lu-te and Gregory accepted his eager invitation to spend an hour in his apartments before going to bed. On arriving there, he at once went over to put on the gramophone; but A-lu-te disappointed his hopes of dancing with her, as she declared that tonight her mind was so full of the Princess that she preferred to talk.

She was much worried by the thought that not understanding French was going to add greatly to the difficulty of her proving a satisfactory lady-in-waiting if the Princess decided to return with them. But Gregory told her not to worry too much about that, as Josephine had never even had a maid of her own until a few months ago; and that having been brought up in the United States she must at least be able to write simple replies in English. They agreed that she had a pleasant personality, and that her manners, while lacking the finesse of a high-born Chinese, were as good as could be expected from a young woman with an affliction that had debarred her from any social life, even in San Francisco.

Tû-lai took little part in the conversation, and appeared somewhat unwilling to discuss the Princess; but when A-lu-te asked him if he thought she would accept the invitation to become Empress, he replied with considerable feeling:

‘She will be a fool if she doesn't! Your island sounds a paradise. How I wish that my grandfather had gone there with yours, and that we Lins now made an eighth to your Seven Families.'

‘If we had, intermarriage would probably have made you my cousin,' she smiled.

The quick glance he gave her suggested that he would have liked to aim at a closer relationship; so she looked hastily away and hurried on. ‘All the same, I can't agree with you that the Princess would be a fool not to accept. Of course, such a position must be tempting to any woman's vanity; but, unless she is far more clever than she appears to be, the amount of power she could wield would be very limited. Then, although the island may sound a paradise, women are still looked upon only as play-things there, and being confined to it for life is a big price to pay for the security it offers. She is obviously happy here, and there are few pleasures or luxuries with which we could provide her that she does not already enjoy. So, to my mind, she has nothing to gain by leaving all this for a new life among strangers.'

‘Ah! But you have forgotten one thing.' Tû-lai waved a hand towards the costly appointments of his room. ‘How long will all this last?'

‘You mean that the Communists are gradually strengthening their hold on China,' Gregory asked, ‘and in time will even grip such remote districts as this?'

Tû-lai gave a bitter smile. ‘It is no longer a question of “in time”. They have already done so.'

Gregory raised an eyebrow. ‘You surprise me. We saw very little of them, even in the densely populated provinces further east.'

‘That was because you came by the river and spent only a few hours in one or two of the towns. Even so, you were extraordinarily lucky not to have run into more of them than you did.'

‘They don't seem to have made any great impression on the country.'

‘Believe me, they have; although you would not have realised it, because you wisely refrained from talking to people, and did not look below the surface. The devastation caused by many years of war and lack of resources has pre-prevented them from carrying out their grandiose plans for creating a new China; but they have made very skilful use of such assets as they have.'

‘In what way?' Gregory asked.

‘For one, they have been wise enough to realise that China's billions have always been near the starvation mark. Formerly, after a bad harvest thousands of poor families were left with insufficient rice to see them through to the next. For them it became a terrible temptation to eat the rice they had put aside for seed, and many of them did. The result was starvation from which thousands died annually. Now, the government buys all the rice, and stores enough of it to ensure that no one starves and everyone has sufficient for fresh sowings. Think what that means to the peasants who have lived for many generations in fear of an untimely death. In addition, the Communists have given the first priority in industry to the manufacture and import of
agricultural machinery, to further better the peasants' lot. You must anyhow have seen some of the new ploughs and tractors during your journey.'