When they were strolling south again, Ma Joong asked, 'Do you know why we are all the time fighting beyond our frontiers against those barbarians there? Why not let the bastards stew in their own grease?'
'You don't know a thing about politics, brother,' Chiao T'ai replied condescendingly. 'It is our duty to deliver them from their barbarism, and to teach them our culture!'
'Well,' Ma Joong remarked, 'those Tartars also know a thing or two. Do you know why they don't insist on their girls being virgins when they are married? Because, my friend, they make allowances for the fact that those Tartar girls, from childhood, are always riding on horseback! But don't let our own girls come to know about that!'
'I wish you would stop your prattle!' Chiao Tai exclaimed, irritated. 'Now we have lost our way.'
They found themselves in what seemed to be a residential quarter. The street was paved with smooth flagstones, and on either side they vaguely saw the high walls of large mansions. It was very still, the mist deadened all sound.
''That there in front of us is a bridge, isn't it?' Ma Joong said. 'That must be the canal that crosses the southern half of the city. If we just follow that canal in an easterly direction, we'll probably get to a shopping street again, sooner or later.'
They crossed the bridge, and started to walk along the waterside. Suddenly Ma Joong laid his hand on Chiao Tai's arm. He pointed silently to the opposite bank, faintly visible through the mist.
Chiao Tai strained his eyes. A group of men seemed to be moving along there, carrying on their shoulders a small, open litter. In the gray moonlight that filtered through the mist he saw on the litter the figure of a bareheaded man, sitting cross-legged with his arms folded on his breast. He seemed all swathed up in white. 'Who's that queer fellow?' Chiao Tai asked, amazed.
'Heaven knows,' Ma Joong growled. 'Look, they are halting.' A gust of wind blew a wisp of mist away. They saw that the men had put the litter down. Suddenly two men standing behind the seated man lifted large clubs, and let them descend on his head and shoulders. Then the mist thickened again. They heard a splash. Ma Joong cursed.
'To the bridge!' he hissed at Chiao Tai.
They turned round and ran back along the canal. But they couldn't see well, and the ground was slippery; it took them quite some time to get back to the bridge. They quickly crossed it, then cautiously made their way along the opposite bank. But everything seemed deserted. After they had walked up and down for some time along the stretch where they thought they had seen the attack, Ma Joong suddenly stooped and felt the ground with his fingers.
'There are deep marks here,' he said. 'This must be the place where they dumped the poor bastard into the canal.'
The mist was lifting a little now, they could see a patch of muddy water several feet below them. Ma Joong stripped naked. Having given his robes to Chiao Tai, he stepped out of his boots and lowered himself into the water. It came up to his midriff.
'It stinks!' he remarked sourly. 'But I see no dead body.'
He waded out further. When he came back to the bank he felt with his feet in the thick layer of dirt and mud on the bottom of the canal
'Nothing doing,' he muttered disgustedly. 'We must have mistaken the place. There's nothing here but a few large lumps of clay or stone, and caked waste paper. What a mess! Pull me up.'
It started raining.
'That's the only thing we were lacking!' Chiao Tai said with a curse. Noticing that there was a porch over the back door of the dark, silent mansion behind him, Chiao Tai took shelter there with Ma Joong's clothes and boots. Ma Joong remained standing in the rain till it had washed his body clean again. Then he joined Chiao Tai under the porch and rubbed himself dry with his neckcloth. When the rain had stopped, they set out again in an easterly direction, along the canal. The mist had grown thinner. They saw on their left a long row of the high back walls of large houses.
'We didn't do too well, brother,' Chiao Tai said ruefully. 'More experienced officers would doubtless have got those fellows.'
'Even experienced officers can't fly over a canal!' Ma Joong replied sourly. 'What a weird sight was that swathed-up fellow. And that right on top of those cheerful tales your one-armed friend had been telling. Let's find a place where we can have another drink.'
They walked on till they saw the blurred light of a colored lantern through the dripping mist. It marked the side entrance of a large restaurant. They went round to the front. Entering the beautifully furnished waiting room downstairs, they scowled at a supercilious waiter who looked critically at their wet robes, and went up the broad staircase. As they pushed upen the elaborately carved double doors they saw a spacious dining room, alive with the hubbub of voices.
SIXTH CHAPTER
LOOKING at the neatly-dressed, sedate people who were crowding round the marble-topped tables, the two friends reflected that this restaurant was far above their financial status. 'Let's go somewhere else,' Ma Joong muttered.
As he turned round to go, a thin man who was sitting alone at a table near the door rose from his chair. He said in a thick voice, 'Sit down and join me, my friends! Drinking alone always saddens me.
He looked at them with watery eyes from under queerly shaped, arched eyebrows that gave him a perpetual questioning look. They noticed that he wore a dark blue robe of costly silk, and a high cap of black velvet. But there were stains on his collar, and untidy locks of hair came out from under his cap. He had a bloated face, and a thin, long nose with a shining red tip.
'Since he asks for it, let's keep him company a bit,' Cbiao Tai said. 'I wouldn't like that yokel downstairs to think that we had been kicked out!'
The two friends sat down opposite their host, who immediately ordered two large jugs of wine.
'What might you be doing for a living?' Ma Joong asked when the waiter had gone.
'I am Po Kai, the business manager of the shipowner Yee Pen,' the thin man replied. He emptied his cup in one draught, then added proudly, 'But I am also a well-known poet.'
'Since you pay for the drinks, we won't hold that against you,' Ma Joong said generously. He lifted the wine jug, threw his head back and slowly let half of its contents pour down his throat. Chiao Tai followed his example. Po Kai watched this performance eagerly.
'Neat!' he said with approval. 'In this particular establishment one as a rule uses a cup, but I think your method is of refreshing simplicity.'
'It just so happens that we are in need of a long drink,' Ma Joong said as he wiped his mouth with a sigh of satisfaction.
Po Kai refilled his own cup, then said, 'Tell me a good story! You fellows who live by the road must lead an eventful life.' 'Live by the road?' Ma Joong exclaimed indignantly. 'Look here, my man, you'd better mind your language. We are officers of the tribunal!'
Po Kai lifted his arched eyebrows still higher. He shouted at the waiter, 'Bring
