The Phantom of the Temple

He found the path leading up the slope without diffi­culty. Half-way up, however, there were several side paths, and he had to retrace his steps a few times before he got on to the track that took him to a small clearing on top of the hill. He paused there a few moments, enjoy­ing the view of the city with its many twinkling lights.

After he had entered the wood, he found Fang, the young constable, sitting on a tree trunk. He told Ma Joong that his colleague was watching the head of the staircase on the other side of the hill. When he had showed Ma Joong the footpath leading to the Hermitage, Fang went back to his post.

Soon Ma Joong saw the red-lacquered gate of the Her­mitage. The surrounding wall was not too high, and, as far as he could see in the uncertain light, the tiles that topped it were new and solid. It would not be difficult to climb over the wall, but he decided to wait until the clouds obscuring the moon had drifted away; for a dis­located tile could make a loud noise in the quiet night. Poking about in the undergrowth, he collected half a dozen boulders which he piled up against the wall, to the left of the gate. As soon as the moon appeared, he stepped onto the pile and pulled himself up on top of the wall. The roof of the servant's quarters was directly below him, just as the King had told him. He crept a little farther and jumped down lightly in the paved courtyard. After a brief glance at the lighted window of the Abbess's living quarters he tiptoed to the door of the small building, and softly knocked four times.

When nothing seemed to stir inside, he repeated his knocking, pressing his ear against the wood. Now he heard the faint sound of bare feet. The door opened and he quickly stepped into a small room, lit by a cheap candlestick on the bamboo side-table.

'Now, who might you be?' the girl whispered after she had softly closed the door. She wore a thin nightrobe and he got a fleeting impression of a round face and a mass of tousled hair. He took the marker from his sleeve. Pressing it into her small, warm hand, he said:

'My name is Shao-pa. I am Seng-san's cousin. The King sent me. He told me you are called Spring Cloud.'

She stepped up to the side-table and studied the marker by the light of the candle. Beside it stood a round metal mirror on a wooden stand; in front of it lay a broken comb. This was evidently her dressing-table. Ma Joong cast a quick glance at the scanty furniture. Against the side wall stood a simple plank bed covered by a worn reed-mat, in front was a rickety bamboo chair. On a shelf high up on the wall he saw a tea-basket, a brass water-basin and a small lantern. The smell of a cheap perfume hung in the close air.

'Small but cosy!' he remarked.

'Mind your own business!' She stooped and took a small, low-legged table from under the bed. Having placed it on the bed-mat, she sat down cross-legged beside it and gestured Ma Joong to sit down on the other side. He stepped out of his boots and followed her example. The mat was still warm from her body. They sat facing each other silently, the small bed-table in between them.

He noticed with satisfaction that, now that she had pushed the locks away from her face, she looked very nice, exactly his type: a pretty round face with saucy eyes, dimpled cheeks and a coral-red, full mouth. When he glimpsed her firm, round bosom through the thin robe, he said a silent prayer of thanks to the God of War. Suddenly she smiled.

'You aren't so young, but you look better than most of father's friends, Shao-pa!’

'Well, well!’ Ma Joong exclaimed. 'So you are the King's daughter! An honour to work with you, Princess! I am supposed to help you get the gold, you know. Tell me how your father came to know about that. Seng-san used to be rather close-lipped — when he was still with us.'

'Simple. Father taught Seng-san boxing, formerly. That's why Seng-san used to look him up from time to time. He promised father a slice of the loot too.'

'How much was Seng-san to get?'

'One third, Yang two-thirds. Stands to reason, for Yang had tipped your cousin off, you see. Yang didn't like to look for the gold all by himself, for the fellow who had the first claim on it was a very tough customer, they say. Yang was afraid of him. And with a good reason, too! Seeing that the bastard killed your cousin and spirited Yang away to Heaven knows where! After that I told father I wouldn't go to search the temple at night alone any more. Not me!'

'I'd like to meet the son of a dog who killed Seng-san! His brother Lao-woo is doing time in Tong-kang, so it's me who has to settle the account.'

'As for me, father told me to apply for this job with the old bitch here to keep an eye on the temple. I won't say nothing bad about your cousin, mind you, but father just thought Seng-san would bear a bit of watching, you see.'

'The King was dead right! What I don't get is why the scoundrel who put the gold in the temple didn't dig it up himself and clear out. Why let it lie about there till Seng-san and Yang barged in?'

She shrugged her round shoulders.

'Seems he hid it because he stole it somewhere, and hid it so well that he couldn't find it any more! And not for want of trying either! I have been over that whole blasted place, and I can tell you he really did some work there! Tore up the floors everywhere. I have been over my employer's quarters too, by the way.'