The Phantom of the Temple

He pulled the two central panels of the six-fold front door open. Having secured them in that position by wedg­ing flat stones underneath, he suspended the lantern on his belt, grabbed the upper edge of the panel and climbed up, putting his feet in the gaps among the latticework. Standing with spread legs, one foot on either door, he could just look into the dark cavity. A black shape flew into his face and nearly made him lose his balance.

'Damn those bats! There's plenty of room here for a thousand of them, and for a couple of corpses too. But there's no corpse and no head. And it doesn't smell as badly here as down in the hall.'

He climbed down again and extinguished the lantern. Standing in the door-opening, he surveyed the thick wilderness along the right side of the yard.

'That big oak tree there with the raised roots must be the one beneath which our good Ah-liu laid himself down for a well-earned rest. All right, I sling the corpse over my shoulder and step down into the yard. The severed head I carry in my neckcloth. Or perhaps I entrust that precious burden to my friend. Then ...'

He broke off and stared fixedly at the undergrowth, a little beyond the oak tree. He wiped his forehead.

'I'd have sworn I saw a white shape hovering about there! Could've been a woman. Rather tall, in a long, trailing white robe. After her!'

He ran across the yard. Beyond the oak tree, however, there was only a thick mass of thorny wild white roses.

'Where did the apparition ...' he began, then stooped and looked at the broken twigs. When he had carefully parted the low branches, he grinned. 'Yes, there is a pathway here! Was, I should have said. Overgrown with weeds.'

Going down on all fours, he crept under the overhang­ing branches. Being an experienced woodsman, he knew that he was on an old footpath, hidden under the straggling undergrowth. Soon he could walk upright. He went on, hardly making any noise, halting from time to time to listen. But he heard nothing but the chirping of the cicadas, and the occasional cry of some night animal. He lit the lantern and examined the shrubs. There were dark stains on some leaves. He was on the right track.

The abandoned path meandered among the tall trees, on to a small clearing. Here another path branched off.

'That must lead back to the rear of the temple, I'd say. But I must keep to the left.' He sniffed the air. The dank smell of rotting leaves was being superseded by a subtle fragrance. 'Almond blossom! There must be several trees ahead!'

A little farther he came upon an old well, surrounded by tall almond trees. Their white blossoms were strewn over the mossy stones like so many snow flakes. Beyond the thick shrubbery on the other side of the well he saw a high wall. A large portion of the masonry had crumbled down, leaving a gap several feet wide. A pile of broken bricks and large boulders was lying beside the well, over­grown with weeds.

He looked up. Through the open space between the branches of the trees he could see the left tower of the deserted temple. That gave him his bearings.

'This abandoned well must be located in the farthest corner, at the back of this blasted garden. Where has my kind spook gone now? It either disappeared through the gap in the wall over there, or it took the side path I saw on the way here. Anyhow, she isn't here now, and that's a consolation!’

He was talking aloud to himself, for he felt far from comfortable. Supernatural phenomena were the only things under the sun he was actually afraid of. He scanned the dark trees, but nothing stirred. Shrugging his shoulders, he turned to the well.

'This is, of course, the ideal spot for dumping un­wanted corpses. Yes, look at those dark stains on the rim! And down here along the bricks! Dark red!’ He peeped inside. 'Very deep, more than twenty feet, I'd say. Lots of vegetation on the walls. This pitcher rope is rotten to the core, but it'll bear the weight of my lantern, I dare say.'

He tied the end of the rope to the handle and lowered it into the well. Under the mass of ivy there were thick liana stems that had worked their way deeply into the grooves among the old bricks. Large sections of the masonry had dropped out, leaving gaps all the way down. He peered intently at the bottom of the well.