Hills of Han 33

Hills of Han 33

A thin thoughtful woman came out of a school building, and confronted

him.

 

“I am Mr. Brachey,” said he coldly; “Jonathan Brachey.”

 

The woman drew herself up stiffly.

 

“What can I do for you, sir?”

 

She was stern; hostile.... How little it mattered!

 

“I must see you all together, at once,” he said in the same coldly

direct manner--“Mr. and Mrs. Boatwright, if you please, and any others.”

 

“Can’t you say what you have to say to me now? I am Miss Hemphill, the

head teacher.”

 

“No,” he replied, not a muscle of his face relaxing. “May I ask why

not?”

 

“It is not a matter of individual judgment.”

 

“But Mrs. Boatwright will refuse to see you.”

 

“I am sony, but Mrs. Boatwright will have to see me and at once. And not

alone, if you please. I don’t care to allow her to dismiss what I have

to say without consideration.”

 

Miss Hemphill considered; finally went up into the dispensary, past the

waiting unfortunates on the steps. Brachev stood erect, motionless,

like a military man. After a moment, Miss Hemphill came out, followed by

another woman.

 

“This is Dr. Cassin,” she said; adding with a slight hesitation as if

she found the word unpalatable--“Mr. Brachey.”

 

The physician at once took the matter in hand.

 

“You will please tell us what you have to say, Mr. Brachey. It will be

better not to trouble Mrs. Boatwright.”

 

Brachey made no reply to this speech; merely stood as if thinking the

matter over. Then his eye caught’ a glimpse of something pink and white

that fluttered past an up-stairs window. Then, still without a word, he

went on to the residence, mounted the steps and rang the bell.

 

The two women promptly followed.

 

“You will please not enter this house,” said Dr. Cassin severely.

 

A Chinese servant opened the door.

 

“I wish to see Mr. and Mrs. Boatwright at once,” said Brachey; then, as

the servant was about to close the door, stepped within.

 

The two women pressed in after him.

 

“You are acting in a very high-handed manner,” remarked Dr. Cassin with

heat--“an insolent manner.”

 

“I regret that it is necessary.”

 

“It is _not_ necessary!” This from Miss Hemphill.

 

He merely looked at her, then away; stood waiting.

 

Mrs. Boatwright appeared in a doorway.

 

“What does this mean?” was all she seemed able to say at the moment.

 

“Will you kindly send for the others”--thus Brachey--“Mr. Boatwright,

any other whites who may be here, and--Miss Doane.”

 

“Certainly not.”

 

“It is necessary.”

 

“It is not. Why are you here?”

 

“It is not a matter for you to decide. I must have everybody present.”

 

There was a rustle from the stairs. Betty, very pale, her slim young

person clad in a lacy négligée gown of Japanese workmanship, very quick

and light and nervously alert, came down.

 

“Will you please go back to your room?” cried Mrs. Boatwright.

 

But the girl, coming on as far as the newel post, stopped there and

replied, regretfully, even gently, but firmly:

 

“No, Mrs. Boatwright.”

 

“Will you at least do us the courtesy to dress yourself properly?”

 

This, Betty, her eyes straining anxiously toward Brachey, ignored.

 

3

 

Dr. Casein then abruptly, speaking in Chinese, sent the servant for Mr.

Boatwright, and deliberately led the way into the front room. The others

followed, without a word, and stood about silently until the appearance

of Mr. Boatwright, who came in rather breathless, mopping his small

features.

 

“How do you do?” he said to Brachey; and for an instant seemed to be

considering extending his hand; but after a brief survey of the grimly

silent figures in the room, catching the general depression in the social

atmosphere, he let the hand fall by his side.

 

“Now, Mr. Braehey,” remarked Dr. Cassin, with an air of professional

briskness, “every one is present. We are ready for the business that

brought you here.” Brachey looked about the room; his eyes rested

longest on the physician. To her he handed the letter, saying simply:

 

“This was written within the hour, by Po Sui-an, secretary to His

Excellency Pao Ting Chuan. Will you please read it aloud, Dr. Cassin?”

 

Then, as if through with the others, he went straight over to Betty, who

stood by the windows. Quickly and softly he said:

 

“Brace up, little girl! It is bad news.”

 

“Oh!” she breathed, “is it--is it--father?”

 

He bowed. She saw his tightened lips and the shine in his eyes; then she

wavered, fought for breath, caught at his hand.

 

Mrs. Boatwright was calling out, apparently to Betty, something about

taking a chair on the farther side of the room. There was a stir of

confusion; but above it Brachey’s voice rose sharply:

 

“Read, please, Dr. Cassin!”

 

Soberly they listened. After beginning the postscript, Dr. Cassin

stopped short; then, slowly, with considerable effort, read the

announcement of Griggsby Duane’s death.

 

Then the room was still.

 

Mrs. Boatwright was the first to speak; gently for her, and unsteadily,

though the strong will that never failed this vigorous woman carried her

along without a sign of hesitation.

 

“Mary,” she said, addressing Miss Hemphill, “you had better go up-stairs

with Betty.”

 

Dr. Cassin, ignoring this, or perhaps only half-hearing it (her eyes

were brimming) broke in with:

 

“Mr. Brachey, you must have come here with some definite plan or

purpose. Will you please tell us what it is?”

 

“No!” cried Mrs. Boatwright--“no! If you please, Mary, this man must not

stay here. Betty!... Betty, dear!”

 

Betty did not even turn. She was staring out the window into the

peaceful sunflecked courtyard, the tears running unheeded down her

cheeks, her hand twisted tightly in Brachey’s. He spoke now, in the cold

voice, very stiff and constrained, that masked his feelings.

 

“The death of Mr. Doane makes it clear that there is no safety here.

There is a chance, to-day, for us all to get safely away. I have, at the

gate, a litter and one riding horse, also a few pack animals. Most of

my goods can be thrown aside--clothing, all that. The food I have, used

sparingly, would serve for a number of us. We should be able to pick

up a few carts. I suggest that we do so at once, and that we get away

within an hour, if possible. We must keep together, of course. I suggest

further, that any differences between us be set aside for the present.”

 

They looked at one another. Miss Hemphill pursed her lips and knit her

brows, as if unable to think with the speed required. Dr. Cassin, sad

of face, soberly thinking, moved absently over to the silent girl by

the window; gently put an arm about her shoulders. Mr. Boatwright, sunk

deeply in his chair, was pulling with limp aimless fingers at the fringe

on the chair-arm; once he glanced up at his wife.