“I understand perfectly,” I said. “I feel that too. Joliffe, I am going to help you. How glad I am that I have started to learn something. Not much I know for it’s a lifetime’s study. But you were pleased with me, weren’t you, when I recognized that scroll?”
“I was proud of you.”
“I owe all that to your uncle and when I think of that I am a little ashamed. He did so much for my mother and me—and then I left him.”
“Didn’t you know that a woman should forsake all others and cleave to her husband?”
“Yes, yes, but I think your uncle Sylvester was hurt.”
“Good God, Jane. Did he think you were some sort of slave?”
“He has never shown me or my mother anything but the greatest kindness, but he did teach me, train me… and before I could be of any real use to him I went away.”
“Don’t worry about old Uncle Sylvester. He’ll get over it. Did he ever talk to you about The House of a Thousand Lanterns?”
“Yes, he did mention it.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That it was his and that it was in Hong Kong. What a strange name for a house. A thousand lanterns is a great many. Have you seen it?”
“Yes.”
“Is it as romantic as it sounds?”
He hesitated. “It’s a strange house. Rather repelling in a way, yet fascinating. I saw it first when I was about fourteen. Uncle Redmond, who was alive then, had taken me out with him and Adam. At that time he thought I would work with them. Places make an impression on you which you often never forget. A house with a name like that…”
“I’d like to see it. I can imagine it. Are there really a thousand lanterns?”
“There are a great many. Lanterns on the porch, and wind bells which made a strange tinkling noise. I was impressed because it was my first visit to Hong Kong. Everything seemed so strange then. It seemed dark in the house and the servants with their pigtails and silent way of moving about impressed me deeply. I thought it the most foreign place I’d ever seen. When my uncle lives there he conforms somewhat to the Chinese fashion. I remember he told me that one must always respect other people’s customs. When in Rome do as the Romans do and the same applies to China.”
“Is it true that the house was presented to some ancestor of yours?”
“To my great-grandfather. He was a doctor. He went out to China and worked there among the people. One rich and influential mandarin was very grateful to him because he saved his wife in childbirth and not only the wife but child too. It was a boy and boys are important to the Chinese. Girls they often put out into the streets to starve to death—not so boys. They are very unkind to members of your sex whom they consider of little importance.”
“And so the mandarin gave your great-grandfather this House of a Thousand Lanterns.”
“Yes. When he died some years after the birth of his son. There is a letter which he wrote and which is in the family’s possession. Translated it says that the house is a miserable gift for the birth of a son, but among the thousand lanterns lies his greatest treasure, and he was putting this into the care of the man to whom he would be grateful forever.”
“How mysterious.”
“There may have been some discrepancy in the translation but it seems that the house is a gift and it is a sort of container for something of greater value. It’s a puzzle. You know the Chinese love puzzles.”
“And what was this treasure?”
“It was never discovered.”
“Do you mean that people looked for it?”
“People have looked for it since the house was given to my greatgrandfather. Nothing has been found. It seems that the old mandarin was anxious to prove his gratitude and the house was indeed far more than my great-grandfather would have thought possible for something he did often in the course of his profession. But the legend persisted and The House of a Thousand Lanterns is regarded with some sort of awe.”
“You mean by the people who live near it?”
“By the servants too. It is always kept in readiness, for my uncle is the sort of man who doesn’t give warning of his coming. He wishes to come and go without fuss.”
“I wonder if I shall ever see The House of a Thousand Lanterns?”
“I shall take you. We’ll go together.”
“One thousand lanterns. How many rooms are there to accommodate so many?”
“There may not be a thousand. It’s a poet’s phrase, isn’t it? The Chinese would like that. It sounds better than eight hundred and ninety-five. I’ve never counted them. But the lanterns are a feature of the place. They are in every room and on the porch, in the garden… everywhere. Inside them are oil lamps. They look effective when lighted. If ever it comes to me I shall have a thorough search made to find out whether the old mandarin was romancing when he talked of the treasure.”
“Will it go to you?”
“My uncle has no family. As you know, he never married. It would naturally have gone to Uncle Redmond had he lived. There is Adam of course—Adam is two years older than I. But as Uncle Redmond didn’t get on with Uncle Sylvester and Adam is his son… well, you see my reasoning. It’s not an impossibility.”
“Do you want this house, Joliffe?”
“I want it very much. Something tells me that mandarins don’t he when they are about to join their ancestors. Yes, I want that house… very much. There’s only one thing I want more, and that’s my Jane.”
It was hard to get that conversation out of my mind. The House of a Thousand Lanterns had caught my imagination. I could picture all those lanterns hanging from ceilings, fixed to walls, all with their little lamps inside them. And one day I should see them. I longed to do so. It was exciting and yet there was a deep feeling of regret to remember that to come to my present bliss I had been obliged to desert Mr. Sylvester Milner.
As we strolled along the Left Bank we talked a great deal and I was building up a picture of Joliffe’s life and planning how mine should fit into it.
That he was enthusiastic about his business was obvious and again and again I was thankful that I could share in this enthusiasm. Once more thanks to Mr. Sylvester. He talked easily to me and my happiness deepened. It was going to be a wonderful life.
Then I made a discovery which put a curb on my happiness. It was like the first real sign of cloud on the blue horizon.
We had dined with friends of Joliffe’s and had returned to our hotel. We made love and lay drowsily side by side. I was wearing the jade ring with carved eye of Kuan Yin and I said: “I think I believe in it. Ever since you gave it to me life has been especially wonderful.”
“What’s that?” said Joliffe half asleep.
“The Kuan Yin,” I answered.
“If I could find the original…”
“We’ll look for it, Joliffe. What would you do if you found it?”
“There’s a problem. Keep it and have the goddess listen to my cries of despair and come to my aid, or sell it and make a fortune. Which shall it be, Jane?”
“It would depend on how much you believed in the legend.”
“Fortunes are more tangible than legends.”
“I wonder whether the one your uncle found is after all the true one and if it is what he would do.”
“That one… that’s one of hundreds.”
“How do you know?”
“I had it tested.”
“What!” I was wide awake.
Joliffe opened one eye and pulled me closer to him.