The Haunted Monastery

V

Upon entering the enormous hall they were greeted by the deafening sounds of gongs, cymbals and some strident stringed instruments. They came from the orchestra of monks who were seated on a small platform on the left. The age-blackened roof of the hall was supported by a number of high thick pillars, among which were sitting over a hundred monks. The light of dozens of large paper lampions shone on their yellow robes.

The monks rose respectfully as the abbot led Judge Dee along the open path in the middle to a raised platform by the side of the stage in the back of the hall. The abbot sat down in a high-backed armchair of carved ebony, and bade the judge to be seated on his right. The third chair, on the abbot's left, was unoccupied.

The small prior came forward and reported that Master Sun had left, but that he would be back soon. The abbot nodded. He ordered him to bring fruit and other refreshments.

Judge Dee looked curiously at the magnificent pageant that was being enacted on the stage, which was lit by a row of red lampions. In the centre stood a high seat of gilded wood, on which was enthroned a handsome woman dressed in a red and green robe, glittering with gold ornaments. Her high chignon was decorated with a profusion of paper flowers, and she held a jade sceptre in her folded hands. Evidently she represented the Fairy Queen of the Taoist Western Paradise.

Eight figures, seven men and one woman, dressed in gorgeous long robes of embroidered silk were executing a slow dance in front of the Queen, to the measure of the solemn music. They represented the Eight Immortals of the Taoist Pantheon, doing homage to their Queen. "Are those two women nuns?" the judge asked.

"No," the abbot replied. "The Queen is played by an actress of Kuan's troupe; Miss Ting is her name, I think. During the interval she did a rather good acrobatic dance, and juggled with cups and saucers. The Flower Fairy is Kuan's wife."

Judge Dee watched the pageant for a while but found it rather boring. He reflected that perhaps he wasn't in the right mood for it. His head was throbbing and his hands and feet were ice-cold. He looked at the box over on the other side of the stage. It was enclosed on three sides by a lattice screen, so that the two women sitting inside could not be seen by the audience. One was a portly lady rather heavily made up and wearing a beautiful dress of black damask, the other a young girl, also dressed in black, but not made up at all. She had a handsome, regular face, but her eyebrows were thicker than is thought becoming to a woman. Both were watching the performance in rapt attention. The abbot who had been following Judge Dee's gaze said: "That is Mrs. Pao and her daughter White Rose."

The Judge saw to his relief that the Eight Immortals were descending the stage, followed by the Queen, who was led off by two novices dressed as pages. The music ended with a loud beat on the large bronze gong that reverberated through the hall. An appreciative murmur rose from the crowd of monks. Judge Dee sneezed again; he thought there was a nasty draught.

"A fine performance!" he remarked to the abbot. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tao Gan step up to the dais. He came and stood behind Judge Dee's chair and whispered:

"The prior was busy but I had a talk with the almoner, sir. He claims that they have no ground plan of this place."

Judge Dee nodded. The hall had become quiet again. A powerfully built man with a broad, mobile actor's face had appeared on the stage. Evidently he was Mr. Kuan, the director of the troupe. He made a deep bow in the direction of the abbot, then announced in a clear voice: "By the leave of Your Holiness, we shall now, as usual, conclude the performance with a brief allegory. It represents the trials of the human soul seeking Salvation. The erring soul is played by Miss Ou-yang. She is harassed by Ignorance, played by a bear. Thank you!"

The astonished murmur from the audience was drowned in a mournful melody, interspersed with wailing blasts of the long brass trumpets that echoed through the hall. A slender girl dressed in a white robe with wide sleeves ascended the stage and started to execute a slow dance, turning round and round so that her sleeves and the trailing ends of her red sash fluttered about. Judge Dee looked intently at her heavily made-up face, then tried to get a glimpse of the girl in the box on the other side of the stage. But the portly lady was leaning forward, so that he couldn't see her daughter. Astonished, he said to Tao Gan: "That isn't an actress; that is Miss Pao, the girl who was sitting over in that screened box there!"

Tao Gan raised himself on tiptoe. He said: "A young girl is still sitting there, Your Honour. Next to a rather fat lady."

Craning his neck, Judge Dee had another look at the box.

"Yes, so she is," he said slowly. "But she is looking as scared as if she had seen a ghost. I wonder why that actress has made herself up so as to resemble Miss Pao. Perhaps she…"

He suddenly broke off. A big man dressed as an awe-inspiring warrior had appeared on the stage. His tight-fitting black costume accentuated his lithe, muscular body. The red light shone on the round helmet on his head and on the long sword that he whirled round. His face was painted red, with long white streaks across his cheeks.

"That's the man I saw with the naked girl!" Judge Dee whispered to Tao Gan. "Call the director here!"

The warrior was a superb swordsman. While dancing around the girl he made several quick passes at her with the long sword. She evaded the thrusts gracefully. Then he moved closer to her, stepping deftly to the measure of the drums. His sword swung close over her head, then came down in a wicked stroke that missed her shoulder by a hair-breadth. A sharp cry came from the ladies' box. Judge Dee saw that Miss Pao had risen and was gazing with horror-stricken face at the two figures on the stage, her hands gripping the balustrade. The portly lady spoke to her, but she didn't seem to hear.

The judge looked at the stage again.

"One wrong move and we'll have an accident!" he said worriedly to the abbot. "Who is that fellow anyway?"

"He is an actor called Mo Mo-te," the abbot replied. "I agree that he comes far too close. But he's being more careful now."

The warrior had indeed stopped his attacks on the girl. He was now executing a series of complicated feints some distance from her. His painted face flashed weirdly in the light of the lampions.

Tao Gan appeared by the side of Judge Dee's chair, and presented Mr. Kuan Lai, the director of the troupe.

"Why didn't you announce that Mo Mo-te would take part in the allegory?" the judge asked sharply.

Kuan smiled. "We often improvise a bit, sir," he said. "Mo Mo-te likes to show off his skill as a swordsman; therefore he assumed the role of Doubt, tormenting the erring soul."

"It comes too close to real torment to my taste," Judge Dee said curtly. "Look, he is attacking the dancer again!"

Now the girl evidently had difficulty in evading the vicious sword thrusts the warrior was aiming at her. Her breast was heaving and sweat streaked her made-up face. The judge thought there was something wrong with her left arm. He couldn't see it clearly because of the wide, swirling sleeve, but she seemed unable to use it, keeping it close to her body all the time. He said angrily to himself that if he was starting to see one-armed girls everywhere, he would have to take hold of himself. He sat up. A quick sword stroke cut off a corner from the dancer's fluttering left sleeve. A frightened cry sounded from the ladies' box.

The judge got up to shout to the warrior to stop. But at the same time the girl whistled, and now a huge black bear came ambling on to the stage. He turned his large head toward the warrior, who quickly retreated to a corner of the stage. Judge Dee sat down again.

The bear growled, then slowly went up to the girl, shaking its heavy head. The girl seemed in great fear. She covered her face with her right sleeve. The bear kept on advancing. The music had ceased; all was deadly quiet.

"The ugly brute will kill her!" the judge said angrily.

"It belongs to Miss Ou-yang, Your Honour," Kuan said reassuringly. "The chain on his collar is attached to that pillar at the back of the stage."

Judge Dee said nothing. He didn't like this at all. He noticed that Miss Pao had resumed her seat. She seemed to have lost interest in the show. But her face was still very pale.

The warrior made a few final feints with his sword, then disappeared. The bear was walking slowly around the girl who was now executing a quick dance, gyrating on the tips of her toes.

"Where is that fellow off to?" Judge Dee asked Kuan.

"He'll be going to our dressing room, sir," the director answered. "He'll be anxious to get rid of his make-up and his costume."

"Was he on the stage about one hour ago?" the judge asked again.

"He has been on ever since the interval," Kuan replied with a smile. "And he had to wear a heavy wooden mask all through. He was acting the part of the Spirit of Death, you know. Anyone else would have been tired out now, but he is an extraordinarily strong fellow. Just now he came on again because he couldn't resist the temptation to show off his skill."

Judge Dee hadn't heard his last words. His eyes were riveted on the stage, where the bear had now raised itself on its haunches. It was groping with its enormous paws for the girl, growling angrily. The girl drew back, but suddenly the bear was on her with amazing swiftness. The girl fell on the floor, and the animal stood over her, opening its huge jaws lined with long yellow teeth.

The judge suppressed a cry. Suddenly the girl crept out from under the hulking animal and came gracefully to her feet. She patted the bear on its head, then took it by its collar and made a deep bow. She led the animal off stage amid thunderous applause from the audience.

Judge Dee wiped the perspiration from his brow. In the excitement he had forgotten all about his cold, but now he realized again that he had a bad headache. He wanted to get up, but the abbot laid his hand on his arm and said: "Now Mr. Tsung Lee, the poet, will pronounce the epilogue!"

A young man with a shrewd, beardless face stood in the centre of the empty stage. He made a bow, then began in a sonorous, well-modulated voice:

He made another deep bow and left the stage. The orchestra struck up the finale.

Judge Dee looked questioningly at the abbot. Spoken in a monastery called Morning Cloud, the last line about "dissolving morning clouds" was most inauspicious, even rude. The abbot barked at the director: "Get me that poet here!" And to the judge: "The impudent rascal!"

When the young man was standing in front of them, the abbot addressed him harshly: "What made you add that last line, Mr. Tsung? It completely spoilt the auspicious atmosphere of this solemn occasion!"

The young man seemed quite at ease. He gave the abbot a quizzical look and replied with a smile: "The last line, Your Holiness? I had feared that the line before the last might perhaps be considered inappropriate. It's not always easy to find the right rhymes on the spot, you know!"

The abbot was about to make an angry retort, but Tsung continued placidly: "Short verses are easier, of course, Like this one, for instance:

The abbot angrily stamped his staff on the floor. His face was twitching. Judge Dee expected him to burst out in a fit of rage. But he succeeded in mastering himself. He said coldly: "You may go, Mr. Tsung."

A Poet Taunts a Taoist Abbot

He rose. The judge noticed that his hands were trembling. Judge Dee took leave of him with a few polite phrases.

As they were walking towards the exit, the judge said to Tao Gan: "We'll go now to the actors' dressing room. I must have a talk with that fellow Mo Mo-te. Do you know where it is?"

"Yes, Your Honour, on the same floor as mine, in a side corridor."

"I never saw such a rabbit warren!" Judge Dee muttered. "And what is all that nonsense about no ground plan being available? They are required by law to have one!"

"The almoner claims, sir, that the section higher up — that is, the part of the monastery beyond the temple — is closed to everybody except the abbot and the ordained monks. That forbidden part may not be charted or depicted. The almoner agreed that it was awkward not to have a plan, for this is a very large place. Even the monks themselves sometimes lose their way."

"A preposterous situation!" the judge said peevishly. "Just because the Palace has deigned to show interest in the Taoist creed, those people think they are above the law! And I hear that Buddhist influence is also growing at Court. I don't know which of the two is worse!"

He walked over to the office on the opposite side of the hall. He told the monk in charge there that after he had changed, he wanted a novice to take him to Master Sun's quarters. Tao Gan borrowed a lantern from the monk, then they waited a while in front of the office to let the throung of monks who were leaving the hall file past them.

"Look at all those able-bodied fellows!" Judge Dee said sourly. "They ought to do their duty to society, marry and raise children!" He sneezed.

Tao Gan gave him a worried look. He had come to know the judge as a man of a remarkably equable temper; even if he was annoyed he rarely showed it so clearly. He asked: "Did that solemn abbot give a satisfactory explanation of those three deaths that occurred here?"

"He did not!" the judge said emphatically. "It is just as I thought; there are highly suspicious features. When we are back in Han-yuan, I shall first obtain from the families of the dead girls more details about their background, then we'll come back to this monastery with Sergeant Hoong, Ma Joong, Chiao Tai, the scribes and a dozen constables, and institute a thorough investigation. And I'll not announce that visit beforehand, mind you! That's the little surprise I have in store for our friend the abbot!"