He met no one while ascending the last ridge, and when he had arrived on the top he caught again the full blast of the north wind. Penetrating his thick fur coat, it chilled him to the bone. He quickly rode down to the bank and halted his horse in front of the vast expanse of the swollen river. Its churning waves beat against the rocky shore farther to the west. The opposite bank was shrouded in a low-hanging mist. There was no sign of a ferry, and of the quay only two broken pillars were left. White foam spurted up against them. The waves rushed on from east to west with a low rumbling sound, carrying along heavy logs and clusters of green shrubs.
With a frown the judge surveyed the desolate scene, dismal and grey in the gathering dusk. The only habitation in sight was a large old country house, standing all by itself on a low hill a mile or so to the west. It was surrounded by a high wall; on the east corner stood a watchtower. The whiffs of smoke rising up from the roof of the main building were carried away swiftly by the strong wind.
Stifling a sigh the judge guided his horse to the winding road that led up to the hill. He had come to a dead end. It couldn't be helped, he and his retinue would have to break their journey here, pending the repair of the ferry.
The ground surrounding the country house was covered by tall grass and large boulders. There were no trees, but the mountain slope behind it was thickly wooded. Some people were moving about there, in front of what seemed to be the mouth of a large cave. Three horsemen came from among the trees and rode down the mountain slope.
When the judge was about half-way to the house, his eye fell on a high stake driven into the ground by the roadside. A bulky object hung from its top. Bending over in the saddle, he saw that it was the severed head of a man. The long hair fluttered across the distorted face. A pair of cut-off hands was nailed to the stake, directly below the head. Shaking his head perplexedly, the judge pressed his horse on.
As he arrived in front of the high gatehouse with its solid, iron-bound double door, it struck him that the place looked . like a small fort rather than a country house. The high crenelated walls sloping down to a broad base seemed unusually heavy, and there was not a single window in sight.
Just when he was about to knock on the gate with the butt of his riding-whip, it swung open slowly. An old peasant motioned him to enter a spacious, semi-dark yard, paved with cobblestones, and as the judge jumped down from his horse, he heard the grating sound of the cross-bar of the gate being pushed back into its place.
A gaunt man in a long blue gown and a small skull-cap on his head came rushing towards him. Thrusting his lean face close to that of the judge he panted:
'Saw you from the watchtower! Shouted at once at the gatekeeper to open up. Glad they didn't overtake you!'
He had an intelligent face, adorned by a ragged moustache and a short goatee. The judge put him in his early forties. The man took a quick look at Judge Dee's bedraggled appearance, and resumed:
'You have a long journey behind you, evidently! My name is Liao, by the way. I am the steward here, you see.' Now that he had regained his breath, he spoke with a pleasant voice. He seemed a well-educated gentleman.
'My name is Dee. I am a magistrate from up north, on my way to the capital.'
'Good Heavens, a magistrate! I must inform Mr Min. At once!'
The gaunt man ran to the main building in the rear of the yard, agitatedly swinging his arms. The flapping sleeves reminded the judge of a frightened chicken. He now became conscious of a low murmur of voices. It came from the outhouses to the left and right of the courtyard. A few dozen men and women were squatting under the eaves and among the pillars there. Behind them stood piles of large bundles, wrapped in blue cloth and fastened by thick straw ropes. By the nearest pillar sat a peasant woman suckling a small child, half covered by her ragged cloak. Over the low wall came the neighing of horses. He thought he had better take his horse there, for it was wet and tired. When he led it to the narrow doorway in the corner, the murmur of voices ceased abruptly.
The walled-in enclosure proved to be indeed the stable yard. Half a dozen grown-up boys were busying themselves there about a few large, brightly-coloured kites. One of them looked up excitedly at the red kite that flew high in the grey sky, its long string taut in the strong wind. Judge Dee asked the tallest boy to rub down and feed his horse. He patted its neck, then walked back to the courtyard.
A short, portly gentleman wearing a thick robe of grey wool and a flat cap of the same material came rushing down the broad steps of the three-storied main building.
'How did you get through, magistrate?' he asked, excitedly.
Judge Dee raised his eyebrows at the abrupt question.
'On my horse,' he replied curtly.
'But what about the Flying Tigers?'
'I met no tigers, flying or otherwise. Would you kindly explain what you ...'
The judge broke off in mid-sentence as a tall, broad-shouldered man, dressed in a long fur coat, brushed past the portly gentleman. He set his square cap right and asked politely:
'Are you travelling all alone, sir?'
'No, I have sixty soldiers with me. They ...'
'Heaven be praised!' the fat man exclaimed. 'We are saved!'
'Where are they?' the tall man asked eagerly.
'At the bridgehead, on the other side of the mountain range. The bridge over the gap there broke down just after I had crossed it. My men will be here as soon as it has been repaired.'
The fat man threw up his arms in despair.
'Ever seen such a fool?' he asked his companion angrily.
'Look here, you!' the judge snapped. 'You shan't call me names! Are you the master of this house? I want shelter for the night.'
'Shelter? Here?' the other scoffed.
'Calm yourself, Mr Min!' the tall man said sharply. And, to the judge: 'I hope you'll excuse our bad manners, sir. But we are in a most awful predicament. This gentleman is Mr Min Kwo-tai, the younger brother of the landowner, who is gravely ill. Mr Min came here yesterday, to be on hand if his brother's illness should take a turn for the worse. I am Yen Yuan, the bailiff of the Min estate. Shall we take our guest inside, Mr Min?'
Without waiting for the other's assent, he led Judge Dee up the stone steps. They entered a cavernous, windowless hall, lit by a huge open fire that blazed up in a square hole in the centre of the bare, stoneflagged floor. It was sparsely furnished with a few large, well-worn pieces: two broad black-wood cupboards and a high-backed bench against the side wall, and a thick-legged table of carved ebony in the rear. These solid antique pieces went well with the heavy, smoke-blackened rafters of the low ceiling. The plastered walls were bare. Evidently the arrangements of the hall had not been interfered with for a great many years. There was the comfortable atmosphere of rustic simplicity, typical of the old-style country house.
While crossing the hall to the table at the back, the judge noticed that the house was built on two different levels: on either side a few steps led up to small side-rooms, separated from the hall by partition screens of open lattice work. Through the screen on the left the judge saw a high desk, piled with account books. It was apparently the office.
The bailiff lit the candlestick on the table, then offered the judge the capacious armchair behind it. He himself took the chair on the left. Mr Min, who had been muttering to himself all the time, sank down in the smaller armchair on the opposite side. While the bailiff busied himself about the tea tray, Judge Dee unfastened his sword and laid it on the small wall table. He loosened his fur coat and sat down. Leaning back in his chair, he covertly observed the two men, slowly caressing his long sidewhiskers.