  “It’s all right, Sam,” said Archie, vigorously shaking me. “Sit up, old man.” I obeyed, opening my eyes to gaze fearfully around me. The lamp on the taboret still burned steadily and crouching motionless upon the mangled remains of Mai Lo was the form of the giant ape. Joe and Archie supported me to my feet, peering into my face anxiously. “Is—is he dead?” I asked in a faint voice. “Dead as nails!” declared Archie, with a laugh. “Old Fo-Chu has saved us a lot of trouble, while the governor kindly saved us from the beast by giving Fo-Chu his quietus. It couldn’t have been better if we had planned it; but my! wasn’t it a jolly fight?” “It was awful, boys!” I exclaimed. Joe nodded. “The horror of it nearly got me, too,” he admitted. “But, as Archie says, it was a fortunate thing for us, take it all in all.” Feeling somewhat restored in strength I stooped down and picked up the scimitar, which lay where the ape had dropped it. The blade was reeking with warm blood, and I hastily wiped it clean with the rich tapestry that hung upon the wall of the room. “The seven kings must have fought for the scimitar that time,” I observed. “It was a fearful blow.” Together we rolled the great body of the dead ape over, with the idea of getting together the remains of Mai Lo. But the nauseating heap of flesh, mingled with shreds of the broidered robes that had enveloped it, was so repulsive that we decided not to touch it. “Leave him with the ancestors of Kai,” advised Joe. “We’ll be away from here before long.” “I’ll never enter this place again!” I declared, with a shudder, for my nerves were still on edge. “Nor I,” said Joe, hastily. “Then let’s get all we want now,” suggested Archie. We did. Without fear of further interruption we explored such alcoves as we had not previously visited and appropriated the best of the treasure they contained. We were all fairly well loaded when at last we returned to the scene of the recent tragedy, where we added the heap of jewels that Mai Lo had been examining. There was no time to assort them, so we took them all. Archie seized the scimitar and hacked away a section of the tapestry, and while I wondered what he was going to do he picked up the severed head of Mai Lo by its queue and dropped it into the cloth, gathering up the corners to form a bag. “What is that for?” I asked, wonderingly. “Why, it’s proof that the governor is extinct,” he said, with a grin. “No one is allowed to enter this place, so we must establish the demise of our dearly detested enemy in the upper world. Are you fellows ready?” “Come on,” I said, picking up my burdens. We returned to the alcove of the first Kai and for the last time crept behind the tapestry and emerged into the tunnel through the steel door. Silently we plodded along the incline, for the dreadful sight we had witnessed and the repulsive burden Archie carried in his left hand depressed us in spite of our attempt to appear cheerful. As we reached the flight of steps leading to the palace, Joe, who bore the lamp, turned to me and said: “Going to take that thing home with you, Sam?” Then I remembered I was carrying the ruby scimitar. As I looked upon it a horror of the weapon suddenly took possession of me. I set down my bundles, snapped the blade across my knee, close to the handle, and cast the ancient bit of steel upon the ground. The golden hilt, set with the seven rubies of the kings, I slipped into my pocket. It is the one prize of those I secured in Kai-Nong that I have never parted with. By the time we reached our rooms we found that twilight had fallen. Bry met us at the door with the information that no one had disturbed him during our absence. We placed our burdens in a corner and covered them with a cloth, afterward retiring to our rooms to wash the grime from our hands and faces. Tun came in shortly to ask if he should serve dinner, and told us that Wi-to was “better now” and would be “alle light” by morning. We had little appetite for the meal, but made an attempt to eat. The exciting events of the past few days were beginning to tell upon us and there was little hope of relaxing the nervous tension until our strange adventure had been accomplished. The death of Mai Lo had simplified matters very much. “Unless,” said Joe, “we are accused of his murder; in which case our goose is cooked.” “That’s why I brought the head,” remarked Archie, glancing at the corner. “That’s why you ought not to have brought it,” I objected. “But we must have peace and the good will of the natives in order to get away safely with the treasure,” he replied, sensibly enough. “Mai Lo has committed suicide.” “Suicide!” I exclaimed. “Certainly, my boy. It was up to him to make away with himself, thus doing his duty and fulfilling the expectations of the people.” I looked at him admiringly. “Will you please tell me, Archie,” I said, “how we can convince the people that Mai Lo cut off his own head?” “Why, tell ’em the truth,” he returned. “Tell them Mai Lo gave the Sacred Ape a scimitar and fought a duel with him. That would be a neat way to suicide and appeal to their artistic sense. The ape got in the first swipe and—and——” “And what?” “And here’s the head to prove it,” he answered triumphantly. I shook my head. “It won’t do, old man. Such an absurd story, coming from us, his enemies, would be enough to condemn us.” We sat thinking over the situation for a time, and then Joe exclaimed abruptly: “I have it! We will get Wi-to to tell the story.” “That’s better,” I said, relieved. “He ought to be sober enough to act the part tomorrow. But in the meantime what are we to do with the governor’s wife and daughter? They are in no further danger, so we needn’t keep them cooped up in that room any longer.” “Send for them,” suggested Joe. So we asked Nux to summon the two maids, and soon they toddled timidly into our presence. “Ko-Tua,” said I, solemnly, “you may go home and put on your widow’s gown.” “What you mean, Sam?” she asked, eagerly. “Why, your respected husband, the admirable old villain Mai Lo, has had the kindness to commit suicide.” “Ah, oh!” cried both the girls, with one voice; and then to our amazement they plumped down upon their knees and bowed their heads to the floor and began wailing and beating their front hair with the palms of their hands. We allowed their emotions full play for a time, but they kept up the monotonous cries and self-inflicted blows longer than we thought necessary. “Oh, shut up, Ko-Tua!” grunted Archie, stooping down to give the pretty widow’s shoulder a vigorous shake. “Stop the racket until you’re in public. You’re not so eternally sorry, are you?” She looked up with a smile and slowly rose, Mai Mou demurely following her example. “I’m glad,” said Ko-Tua, frankly. “Now I no have tongue cut out. But Mai Lo my husban’, an’ he dead, an’—oh, oh! ah-oh! oh-ah!——” “Hi! cut it out!” yelled Archie, as the widow relapsed into her wails. “If you don’t behave, I’ll—I’ll bring Mai Lo to life again!” She stopped at once. “You sure he dead?” inquired Mai Mou. “Absolutely sure,” I replied. “He committed suicide, and we saw him do it. But see here, young ladies; you mustn’t mention this till tomorrow, when public announcement is made. Do you understand? Go home and control your grief until you hear the news from others, and then howl as much as you please.” They were puzzled at this order, but when we explained that our own lives depended upon their silence they willingly promised to obey. At first we were all unable to figure out how they were to return to their homes without being seen and causing gossip; but Bry proposed that he should rap upon the door at the end of the passage and see if he could not arouse Nor Ghai. The rapping had no effect for a time, and after a few attempts we abandoned that idea and tried to think of something else. Meantime, as our dinner-table still stood piled with eatables, we prevailed upon Ko-Tua and Mai Mou to satisfy their hunger, which they did with ardor but exquisite daintiness, smiling at us happily as they ate. “Really,” whispered Archie, “if I’d known Mai Lo’s death could cause so much pleasure I’d have asked him to commit suicide long ago.” Presently, without warning, Nor Ghai glided into the room and took in the scene with one comprehensive glance. “I heard the knock, but could not come then, as I was not alone,” she explained. “Is there something you wish me to do?” “You might take these girls into your harem and keep them there,” I replied. “But Mai Lo’s eunuchs will find them!” she exclaimed. “Never mind; there is nothing to fear. Mai Lo is dead.” “Dead!” she repeated, clasping her little hands. “He has committed suicide,” I answered. “Never! Mai Lo never suicide,” she declared, positively. “If Mai Lo dead, somebody kill him.” “Somebody did,” I replied, smiling at her shrewd knowledge of the governor’s character. “It was the Sacred Ape, Fo-Chu.” “But Fo-Chu is escaped and lost. I heard it today.” “Well, Mai Lo found him, and thought it was a good time to shuffle off his mortal coil. You remember that in Shakespeare?” She nodded. “So Mai Lo shuffled.” “Isn’t it nice, Nor Ghai?” asked the widow, delightedly. Then with a sudden thought: “Ah—oo! ah-oo! ah——” “Cut it out, Ko-Tua,” warned Archie. “Her tongue!” gasped Nor Ghai. “No, that’s quite safe; but she isn’t supposed to use it for wailing except in public. Take her to your rooms, little one, and don’t fear for her or Mai Mou any longer. Your troubles are nearly over, I’m sure.” So Nor Ghai smiled also, and led her two friends away. The last we ever saw of them were their pretty forms toddling up the passage with their pretty faces turned over their shoulders to smile upon us. Then the tapestry hid them and they were gone. |
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