The Phantom of the Temple

I

She stared in silence at the thing lying on the rim of the old well. Not a breeze stirred in the hot, damp air that hung heavily in the dark temple garden. A few almond blossoms came fluttering down from the spread­ing branches overhead, very white in the light of the lantern. And whiter still when they stuck to the blood­stains on the weatherbeaten stones.

Clutching her wide robe to her bosom, she said to the tall man standing beside her, 'Throw it into the well too! It'll be quite safe; this old well hasn't been used for years. I don't think anybody even knows of its existence.'

He cast an anxious look at her pale, expressionless face, placed the lantern on the pile of boulders and broken bricks beside the well and loosened his neckcloth with impatient jerks.

'I want to play it double safe, you see. I shall wrap it up and ...' Noticing that his voice sounded very loud in the deserted temple garden, he continued in a whisper, '... bury it among the trees behind the temple. The drunken fool is sound asleep and nobody else'll be about for it's past midnight.'

She watched dispassionately as he wrapped the severed head up in his neckcloth. His fingers trembled so violently that he had difficulty in tying the ends.

'I can't help it!’ he muttered defensively. 'It ... it's getting too much for me. How ... how did you do it? Twice, and so deftly ...' She shrugged her shoulders.

'You have to know about the spacing of the joints,' she replied with indifference. Then she bent over the rim of the well. Thick clusters of ivy had overgrown the mouldering wood of the broken crossbar and long, rank streamers hung down into the dark depths, clinging to the half-decayed rope that once had a pitcher attached to it. Something stirred in the dense foliage of the towering old trees. Again there was a thin shower of white blos­soms. A few dropped on her hand. They felt cold, like snow. She drew her hand back and shook them off. Then she said, slowly, 'Last winter, this garden was all white with snow. All white ...' Her voice trailed off.

'Yes,' he said eagerly. 'Yes! Down in the city it was beautiful too. Icicles hung from the eaves of the pagoda in the lotus lake like so many small bells,' He wiped his moist, hot face and added, 'How clean the frosty air was; I remember that in the morning ...'

'Don't remember,' she interrupted coldly. 'Forget! Think only of the future. For now we shall be able to get it. All of it. Let's go now, and get it out of there,'

'Now?' he exclaimed, aghast. 'Just after ...' Seeing her contemptuous look, he resumed quickly: 'I am dog-tired, I tell you. Really!’

'Tired? You always boast about your strength!'

'But there isn't any hurry any more, is there? We can go and take it, any time we like. And we ...'

'I happen to be in a hurry. But I suppose it'll keep. What is one night?'

He looked at her unhappily. She was withdrawing into herself again, away from him. And his desire for this woman was so poignant that it hurt him.

'Why can't you belong to me, to me alone?' he pleaded. 'You know I'll do anything you want. I proved it, I ...'

He broke off, for he saw that she was not listening. She was staring up at an open space between the branches, strewn with white blossoms. The tops of the two three-storeyed towers stood out clearly against the evening sky. They flanked the main hall of the temple, in perfect symmetry.