"That's quite true!" the judge said pensively. Then he added: "I seem to remember that somewhere I saw that circle also divided horizontally. Does that have a special significance?"
"Not that I know of. The dividing line ought to be vertical, as I drew it here. Well, let's not keep the abbot waiting. My old friend is rather a stickler for formality!" As they went outside Sun added quickly: "Mind your step now, the balustrade is broken here. The lay brothers were supposed to repair it, but they maintain that the preparations for the festival kept them too busy. They are a pack of lazybones, anyway! Here, I'll hold your arm, I don't suffer from any fear of heights!"
IX
They descended the winding staircase together. It was cold and damp in the stairwell. Judge Dee was glad when they entered the refectory on the ground floor, which was well heated by numerous braziers.
The small prior came to meet them, nervously blinking his eyes. He fell over his words in a frantic attempt to be exactly as polite to Master Sun as he was to Judge Dee. He conducted them to the main table in the rear of the refectory, where the abbot was waiting for them. Judge Dee wanted Master Sun to sit on the abbot's right side, but Sun protested that he was only a retired scholar without official rank, and that the judge as representative of the Imperial Government ought to sit in the place of honour. At last the judge had to give in, and the three men seated themselves. The prior, the almoner and Tsung Lee sat down at a smaller table next to theirs.
The abbot raised his cup and toasted his two distinguished table companions. This was the sign for the crowd of monks, seated at four long tables in front of them, to take up their chopsticks, which they did with alacrity. Judge Dee noticed that Kuan Lai, his wife, and the two actresses were sitting at a separate table near the entrance of the hall, where Tao Gan had joined them. Mo Mo-te was nowhere to be seen.
The judge stared dubiously at the cold, fried fish the abbot placed on his plate. The bowl of glutinous rice with raisins did not look very attractive either. He had no appetite at all. In order to conceal his lack of enthusiasm he remarked: "I thought that in Taoist monasteries no meat or fish were served."
"We do indeed strictly observe the monastic rules," the abbot said with a smile. "We abstain from all intoxicants — my wine cup is filled with tea. Not yours, though! We make an exception for our honoured guests in this one respect, but we keep strictly to a vegetarian diet. That fish is made of bean curd, and what looks like a roasted chicken over there is moulded from flour and sesame oil."
Judge Dee was dismayed. He was not a gourmet, but he liked at least to know what he ate. He forced himself to taste a small morsel of the bean curd fish, and nearly choked. Seeing the abbot's expectant look, he said quickly: "This is indeed delicious. You have excellent cooks!"
He quickly emptied his cup; the warm rice wine was not bad. The make-believe fish on his plate stared up at him mournfully with its one shriveled eye, which was in fact a small dried prune. Somehow or other it made Judge Dee think of the embalmed abbot. He said: "After the banquet I would like to see the temple. And also the crypt under the Sanctum, to offer a prayer for the soul of your predecessor." The abbot put his rice bowl down and said slowly:
"This person shall be glad to show Your Honour the temple. But the crypt can unfortunately be opened only on certain days during the dry season. If we open it now, the air down there might get humid, and that would adversely affect the condition of the embalmed body. The intestines have been removed, of course, but some of the organs that remain are still susceptible to decay."
This technical information robbed the judge of the little appetite he had been able to muster. He quickly drank another cup of wine. The bandage around his head was lessening his throbbing headache, but his body was stiff and painful all over, and he felt slightly sick. He looked with envy at Sun Ming who was eating with a hearty appetite. When Sun had emptied his bowl, he wiped his mouth with the hot towel a novice handed to him, then said: "The late abbot, His Reverence Jade Mirror, was a talented man. He was completely familiar with all the most abstruse texts, wrote a beautiful hand, and he was also a good painter of animals and flowers."
"I would like to see his work," Judge Dee said politely. "I suppose the library here has many of his manuscripts and pictures?"
"No," the abbot said, "unfortunately not. It was his express instruction that all his paintings and writings were to be buried with him in the crypt."
"Commendable modesty!" Master Sun said with approval. "But listen, there's that last painting he did of his cat! It is hanging now in the side hall of the temple. I'll take you there after the meal, Dee!"
The judge didn't feel the slightest interest in the late abbot's cat, and the temple hall would doubtless be stone-cold. But he murmured that he would be delighted.
Sun and the abbot started with relish on a thick, brown broth. Judge Dee poked suspiciously with his chopsticks at the unidentified objects that floated on its surface. He could not muster sufficient courage for tasting the broth. He cudgelled his brain for some more conversation, and at last managed to formulate some intelligent questions about the internal organization of the Taoist church. But the abbot seemed ill at ease. He disposed of the subject with a few brief explanations.
The judge felt relieved when he saw the prior, the almoner, and Tsung Lee come to their table to offer a toast. Judge Dee rose and walked back with them to their table to return the courtesy. He sat down opposite the poet, who had apparently partaken liberally of the hot wine. His face was flushed and he seemed in high spirits. The prior informed the judge that two lay brothers had already replaced the broken axle. The grooms had rubbed down and fed the horses. Thus the distinguished guest would be able to continue his journey the next morning. Unless he decided, of course, to prolong his stay — which would delight the prior.
Judge Dee thanked him warmly. The prior muttered some self-deprecatory remarks, then rose and excused himself. He and the almoner had to make preparations for the evening service.
When he was alone with the poet, the judge remarked: "I don't see Mrs. Pao and her daughter here."
"Daughter?" Tsung Lee asked with a thick tongue. "Do you seriously sustain the thesis, sir, that such a refined and slender girl can be the daughter of such a vulgar, fat woman?"
"Well," Judge Dee said noncommittally, "the passing of the years sometimes effects astonishing changes." The poet hiccoughed.
"Excuse me!" he said. "They are trying to poison me with their filthy food. It upsets my stomach. Let me tell you, Magistrate, that Mrs. Pao is no lady. The logical conclusion is that White Rose isn't her daughter." Shaking his forefinger at the judge he asked with a conspiratorial air:
"How do you know that the poor girl isn't being forced to become a nun?"
"I don't," the judge replied. "But I can ask her. Where would they be?"
"Probably taking their meal up in their room. Wise precaution too, for a decent girl shouldn't be exposed to the leers of those lewd monks. The fat woman acted wisely, for once!"
"She didn't prevent the girl from being exposed to your gaze, my friend!" Judge Dee remarked.
The poet righted himself, not without difficulty.
"My intentions, sir," he declared ponderously, "are strictly honourable!"
"I am glad to hear that!" the judge said dryly. "By the way, I would have liked to see the crypt you spoke of. But the abbot informed me just now that it can't be opened at this time of the year."
Tsung Lee gave the judge a long look from his bleary eyes. Then he said:
"So that's what he told you, eh?"
"Have you been down there yourself?."