Colonel Li shrugged. “I can see I’m wasting my time talking to you.” He pulled back a shoulder, brought his heels together and held out his hand. “Goodbye, Paul.”
Chavasse took the hand mechanically because it didn’t seem to matter anymore and then he turned and the sergeant opened the door for him and they went out.
When they reached his cell he halted, but the sergeant pushed him forward and stopped him outside another one at the very end of the corridor. He unlocked the door and pushed Chavasse inside.
It was completely dark and he stood there, arms outstretched in front of him as he edged forward, and then his boot rang against the end of an iron cot and, at that moment, a hard white light was switched on.
The man who lay on the cot was swathed in bloody rags and his hands were crossed on his breast as if he were dead. His eyes were closed and no sound issued from his swollen lips. The face was like wax, the skin so translucent that one would have sworn the bone gleamed through, and yet there was the mark of incredible suffering there.
Chavasse slumped down on the edge of the bed, shaking the man’s head from side to side. “Joro!” he said dully. “Joro!” and he gently touched the cold face with the tips of his fingers.
Slowly, incredibly, the eyes opened to stare blankly at him, and then there was a faint stirring of life there. The Tibetan opened his mouth to speak, but no sound would come out and after a while, the head fell back again and the eyes closed.
Nothing seemed real anymore, everything seemed part of some unbelievable nightmare. He sat there beside the Tibetan, staring blankly at the wall, until footsteps approached and the door opened.
There were five of them including the sergeant. Two of them took Joro between them and went first, Chavasse bringing up the rear with the others.
When they opened the door at the end of the corridor, a drift of rain blew in on the wind. Outside in the courtyard, it was cold and miserable, the sky black with threatening clouds, everything tinged with early morning.
Captain Tsen was waiting with a file of six riflemen in the centre of the yard and he stayedthere, waiting for the sergeant to handle his end of the business as quickly as possible.
Two wooden posts, about ten feet apart, had been hammered into the ground a yard away from the opposite wall, and Chavasse waited while they roped the unconscious Joro into place.
When they seized him in turn and tied him expertly, he was conscious of no fear. He didn’t even feel the bite of the ropes as they were pulled tightly about his arms.
At last they were finished and the soldiers moved away and took up position on one side, the sergeant standing in front of them. Then everybody waited.
Soon Colonel Li appeared at the top of the steps in the main entrance. He was wearing his dress cap and white gloves, everything very formal and correct, and Captain Tsen turned and saluted.
Li came down the steps slowly and crossed the courtyard. He stood a few feet away, hands behind his back, and looked straight at Chavasse, and then he brought his heels together in a quick gesture, saluted and turned away.
Tsen barked a quick order and the six riflemen moved forward quickly and raised their weapons. Chavasse seemed to see everything through the wrong end of a telescope and to hear all sounds as if they were muted and far off. He saw Tsen’s mouth open, the arm start to fall, and he closed his eyes.
The volley echoed flatly across the town through the heavy rain and he waited for death, but it did not come.
Somewhere through the quiet that surrounded him he was aware of footsteps approaching him, and he opened his eyes. Joro hung forward, his dead, useless body straining against the ropes that held it to the post, and Colonel Li stood a few feet away, examining it dispassionately.
As Chavasse stared uncomprehendingly at Li and Joro, his frozen mind refusing to accept what had happened, Tsen barked an order and the sergeant and four men doubled forward. As they untied Chavasse, he looked across at what was left of Joro, at the blood dripping from the shattered face to the wet cobbles.
Li moved forward, his face calm and detached. “That’s right, Paul,” he said. “Take a good look. It’s your fault that poor ignorant fool is hanging there. You got him into this, no one else.”
As the ropes dropped away from him, Chavasse started to tremble with reaction. “Why?” he croaked. “Why?”
Colonel Li was engaged in fitting a cigarette into his jade holder. He paused long enough to accept a light from the sergeant, blew out a plume of smoke and smiled gently. “But Paul, you surely didn’t imagine we had finished with you?”
As a terrible, soundless scream erupted inside him, Chavasse launched himself forward, his fingers reaching for the throat above the high military collar. He never made it. A fist thudded against the back of his neck, a foot tripped him up and he crashed to the cobbles.
14
There was a light that came very close and went away again. It did this several times. Chavasse found it very irritating. His head was spinning and it was an effort to open his eyes.
When he finally awoke, he was lying in a single bed. The room was small and narrow and over everything there was that peculiar and distinctive hospital smell of disinfectant and cleanliness.
The room was in half-shadow and there was a shaded lamp on the locker beside his bed. A young Chinese nurse was reading in the light of the lamp, and as he pushed himself up she put down her book and moved to the door.
“Get the doctor,” she told some anonymous person in the corridor, and closed the door again.
Chavasse grinned weakly. “So I’m still in the land of the living? Life’s full of surprises.”
She put a hand to his brow. It was cool and sweet and he closed his eyes. “Just rest,” she said. “You shouldn’t even talk.”
The door opened and he lifted his eyelids. He saw a brown, kindly face, the skin stretched tightly over high cheekbones and seamed with wrinkles. His wrist was lifted delicately while the doctor looked at his watch and said, “How do you feel?”
“Lousy!” Chavasse told him.
The doctor smiled. “You have an amazing constitution. Most men in your situation would have died by now.”
“I wouldn’t blame them,” Chavasse said. “Not after sampling the way you people treat the human body.”
“Please!” The doctor shrugged. “Politics are no concern of mine. You will live, that is the only important thing.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” Chavasse told him.
There was a discreet tap on the door and the nurse opened it. “Colonel Li is here.”
The doctor turned to the door as the colonel entered. “Fifteen minutes please, Colonel,” he said. “He needs plenty of sleep.” He smiled at Chavasse. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He and the nurse left and Li moved out of the shadows and smiled down. He looked lean and fit and his uniform molded to him like a glove. “Hello, Paul,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“Like a cigarette,” Chavasse said. “Have you got one?”
Li nodded. He pulled a chair forward and sat down and then he took out an elegant case and gave Chavasse a cigarette from it. Chavasse inhaled deeply and sighed with pleasure. “That’s better.”
“And so is this, is it not?” Li asked. “Clean sheets, a comfortable bed, the filth washed from your body.”
“But for how long?” Chavasse asked.
Li shrugged. “My dear Paul, that is entirely up to you.”
“I thought so,” Chavasse said bitterly. “You thought I was going to die, didn’t you? That explains the deluxe treatment. The minute I’m on my feet, it’s back to my cosy little cell and we begin all over again.”
“That’s right, Paul,” Li said calmly. “We begin all over again. I’d think about that if I were you.”
“Oh, I will, I assure you,” Chavasse told him.
