Strange Stories from the Lodge of Leisures-5

"My dear child, if I were you, I would

ask Correct-sadness to buy immediately one

or two good concubines; if you have a son

and they have also, so much the better, but

you can't realise how difficult to bear it

is to be childless."

[151]

THE PATCH OF LAMB'S SKIN

In the twenty-fourth year K'ang-hsi

lived in a remote district of the

western provinces, a man who could remember

his former lives. He was now a "tsin-shi,"

"entered-among-the-learned," renowned,

and much considered by his

friends.

When speaking of the existences he had

gone through, he used to say:

"As far as I remember, I was first a

soldier—it was in the last days of the Ming

dynasty; my regiment was encamped at

The-Divided-roads on the Ten-thousand-miles-great-wall.

My remembrances are not

very clear as to whom we fought with,

but I remember the joy of striking the[152]

enemy, the hissing of the arrows, the yelling

of the charging troops.

"I was still young when I was killed.

After death, of course I was called before

the tribunal of The-King-of-shadows. Closing

my eyes, I can still see the big caldrons

full of boiling oil for the trying of criminals;

the Judge in embroidered dress seated

behind a red table; the satellites everywhere,

ready to act on the first word,—in

fact, everything exactly the same as in the

worldly tribunals, excepting that, in the

eastern part of the hall, there were huge

wooden stands from which hung skins of

every description—horse-skins, lambs' skins,

dogs' skins, and human skins of every age

and condition; skins of old men, of fat and

important people, of lean and shrivelled

men, of boys and girls.

"The trial began; the souls, according

to their deeds, were condemned to put on

one of the skins and to come up again to

the Lighted World in this new shape.

[153]

"When my turn came I was sentenced

to put a dog's skin on; and in this low

shape I was thrown again in the stream

of life. But as I had not forgotten my

former condition, I was so ashamed, that the

first day I came on earth I threw myself

under the wheels of a heavy carriage and

died.

"The-King-of-shadows was extremely

surprised to see me again so soon; the dogs,

as a rule, having no conscience, he could

not suppose I had killed myself, and did

not hold me responsible for it.

"This time, I was born again as a pig.

Pigs are valuable, and there are always

people to look after them; so I could not

kill myself. I tried to starve myself to

death, but hunger was the strongest, and

I had to endure such a life. Happily, the

butcher soon put a speedy end to it.

"When my name was called to the

tribunal of Darkness, the King-of-shadows

looked over the pages of the Book and said:

[154]

"'He must be a lamb now.'

"The runners took a white lamb's skin,

brought it, and began putting it over my

body. While this was going on, the secretary,

who was writing the sentence in the

Book, started and said to the Judge:

"'Your Honour, there is a mistake.

Please Your Honour read over again; this

soul has to be a man now.'

"You know that, on the Big Book of

Shadows, all our past deeds are recorded as

well as our future destiny.

"The Judge looked at it over again and

said:

"'True! Happily, you saw the mistake.'

"Then, turning to the runners, he ordered

them to take off the skin, which already

covered more than half my body. They

had to exert all their strength, and even

so, they tore it off into pieces. It hurt me

so much that I thought I could not stand

it and I should die; but I was dead, and

I could not die more than that.

[155]

"At last they left me bleeding and

panting, and I was born again in my present

condition. But they had forgotten a piece

of lamb's skin on my right shoulder, and

I still have it now."

And he uncovered his arm and shoulder

to show a piece of white woollen hair on

his right shoulder.

[156]

LOVE'S-SLAVE

In the City-between-the-rivers lived a

young student named Lan. He had

just passed successfully his second literary

examination, and, walking in the Street-of-the-precious-stones,

asked himself what

he would now do in life.

While he was going, looking vacantly

at the passers-by, he saw an old friend of

his father, and hastened to join his closed

fists and to salute him very low, as politeness

orders.

"My best congratulations!" answered

the old man. "What are you doing in this

busy street?"

"Nothing at all; I was asking myself

what profession I am now to pursue."

"What profession? Which one would[157]

be more honourable than that of teacher?

It is the only one an 'elevated man'

Kiu-jen of the second degree, can pursue.

By the by, would you honour my house

with your presence? My son is nearly

eighteen. He is not half as learned as he

should be, and, besides, he has a very bad

temper. I feel very old; if I knew you

would consent to give him the right direction

and be a second father to him, I would

not dread so much to die and leave him

alone."

Lan bowed and said:

"I am much honoured by your proposition,

and I accept it readily. I will go to-morrow

to your palace."

Two hours after, a messenger brought

to the young man a packet containing one

hundred ounces of silver, with a note stating

that this comparatively great sum represented

his first year's salary.

In the evening he knocked at his pupil's

door and was ushered into the sitting-room.[158]

The old man introduced him to the whole

family: first his son, a lad with a decided

look boding no good; then a young and

beautiful girl of seventeen, his daughter,

called Love's-slave. Lan was struck by

the sweet and refined appearance of his

pupil's sister.

"The sight of her will greatly help me to

stay here," thought he.

The next morning, when his first lesson

was ended, he strolled out into the garden,

admiring here a flower and there an artificial

little waterfall among diminutive

mountain-rocks. Behind a bamboo-bush

he suddenly saw Love's-slave and was discreetly

turning back, when she stopped him

by a few words of greeting.

Every day they thus met in the solitude

of the flowers and trees and grew to love

each other. Lan's task with his pupil

was greater and harder than he had supposed;

but for Love's-slave's sake, he

would never have remained in the house.

[159]

After three months the old man fell

ill; the doctors were unable to cure him;

he died, and was buried in the family ground,

behind the house.

When Lan, after the funeral, told his

pupil to resume his lessons, he met with such

a reception that he went immediately to his

room and packed his belongings. Love's-slave,

hearing from a servant what had

happened, went straight to her lover's

room and tried to induce him to stay.

"How can you ask that from me?"

said he. "After such an insult, I would

consider myself as the basest of men if I

stayed. I have 'lost face'; I must go."

The girl, seeing that nothing could prevail

upon his resolution, went out of the

room, but silently closed and locked the

outer gate.

Lan left on a table what remained of the

silver given him by the old man, and wrote

a note to inform his pupil of his departure.

When he tried the gate and found it[160]

locked, he did not know at first what to

do. Then he remembered a place where he

could easily climb over the enclosure,

went there, threw his luggage over the wall,

and let himself out in this somewhat undignified

way.

Before going back to his house, he went

round to the tomb of the old man and

burnt some sticks of perfume. Kneeling

down, he explained respectfully to the dead

what had happened and excused himself for

having left unfinished the task he had undertaken.

Rising at last, he went away.

The next morning Love's-slave, pleased

with her little trick, came to the student's

room and looked for him; he was nowhere

to be found. She saw the silver on the

table, and, reading the note he had left, she

understood that he would never come back.

Her grief stifled her; heavy tears at

last began running down her rosy cheeks.

She took the silver, went straight to her

father's tomb, fastened the heavy metal to[161]

her feet, and unrolled a sash from her

waist. Then, making a knot with the sash

round her neck, she climbed up the lower

branches of a big fir-tree, fastened the other

end of the coloured silk as high as she

could and threw herself down. A few

minutes afterwards she was dead. She

was discovered by a member of the family,

and quietly buried in the same enclosure.

Lan, who did not know anything, came

back two or three days after to see her.

The servants told him the truth. Silently

and sullenly, he went to the tomb, and long

remained absorbed in his thoughts; dusk

was gathering; the first star shone in the

sky. All of a sudden, hearing a sound as

of somebody laughing, he turned round.

Love's-slave was before his eyes.

"I was waiting for you, my love," she

said in a strange and muffled voice. "Why

are you coming so late?"

As he wanted to kiss her, she stopped

him:

[162]

"Oh dear! I am dead. But it is decreed

that I will come again to life if a magician

performs the ceremony prescribed in the

Book-of-Transmutations."

Immaterial like an evening fog, she

disappeared in the growing darkness.

Lan returned immediately to the town,

and, entering the first Taoist temple he saw,

he explained to the priest what he wanted.

"If she has said it is decreed she should

come back to life, we have only to go and

open her tomb, while here my disciples

will sing the proper chapters of the Book.

Let us go now."

Giving some directions to his companions,

he took a spade and started with

Lan. The moon was shining, so that

without any lantern they were able to perform

their gloomy task.

Once the heavy lid of the coffin was unscrewed

and taken off, the body of the

young girl appeared as fresh as if she had

been sleeping.

[163]

When the cold night-air bathed her face,

she raised her head, sneezed, and sat up;

looking at Lan, she said in a low voice:

"At last, you have come! I am recalled

to life by your love. But now I

am feeble; don't speak harshly to me; I

could not bear it."

Lan, kissing her lovingly, took her in

his arms and brought her to his house.

After some days she was able to walk and

live like ordinary people do.

They married and lived happily together

for a year. Then, one day, Lan, having

come back half-drunk from a friend's

house, was rebuked by her, and, incensed,

pushed her back. She did not say a word

but, fainting, she fell down. Blood ran

from her nostrils and mouth; nothing could

recall her departing spirit.

[164]

THE LAUGHING GHOST

Siu Long-mountain was one of the

most celebrated students of the district

of Perfect-flowers. Having mastered

the mysterious theories of the ancient

Classics, he took a fancy in the researches

of the Taoist magicians, whose temples

may be found in the smallest villages of

the Empire. He soon discovered that, for

the greater number, they were impostors;

and, being proud of his newly acquired

science, he concluded that none of them

possessed any occult power.

When he came to this somewhat hasty

conclusion, he was seated alone in his

library; the night was already advancing;

a small oil lamp hardly illuminated his

books on the table he was sitting at.

[165]

"Yes, there is no doubt; nothing exists

outside the material appearances. There

is nothing occult in the world, and nothing

can come out of nothingness."

As he was saying these words half aloud,

he was startled by an unearthly laugh which

seemed to come from behind his back. He

turned quickly round; but nothing was to

be seen.

His heart beating, he was listening intently;

the laugh came from another

part of the room.

Long-mountain was brave, but as people

are brave who have only met the ordinary

dangers of civilised life, such as barking

dogs, insulting coolies, or angry dealers

presenting a long-deferred bill. He tried

in vain to believe it was only a joke imposed

on him by some friend; nothing could

prevail upon his growing terror.

Straining his eyes, he looked at the part

of the room the laugh seemed to come

from. At first he could not see anything,[166]

but by degrees he perceived a black shadow

moving in a corner, then a strange form

with a horse's head and a man's body, all

covered with long black hair; the teeth

were big and sharp as so many mountain-peaks.

The eyes of this dreadful creature

began shining so much that the whole room

was illuminated. Then it began moving

towards the man.

This was too much; the student screamed

like a dying donkey, and, bursting the door

open, he ran out into the courtyard.

From an open door in the western pavilion

a ray of light crossed the darkness; four

or five men were playing cards, drinking,

and swearing. Long-mountain ran into

their room, and, panting, explained his

vision.

The men, being drunk, wanted to see the

Thing; holding lanterns and lamps, they

accompanied their visitor back to his

studio. When they passed the doorway,

Long-mountain screamed again; the Thing

was still there. He would have run away

had not the men, laughing and jesting,

shown him what the Ghost in reality was—a

long dress hung in a corner to a big hook,

on which sat a black cat mewing desperately.

When the men closed the door and left

him alone, the student was deeply ashamed

of his terror; shaken by his emotion, he

went to bed and tried to sleep. Sleep would

not come; his nervousness seemed to increase.

Starting at the smallest noise, he

remained a long time wide awake; then he

lost consciousness.

In the silence one only heard the cries

of the night-birds and the buzzing of the

autumn's insects; the lamp was out, but

a brilliant moon began to pour its silver

light through the window.

The door suddenly creaked; Long-mountain

awoke and sat up on his bed; the door

slowly opened, and the same Thing he had

seen and heard entered the room and advanced

towards the bed, while the same

unearthly laugh came from the long and

unshapely head; the flaming eyes were

fixed on the student.

When the Thing was near the bed, Long-mountain

fell heavily and did not move

any more.

The Ghost stopped, put his hand on the

breast of the man, remained in that position

a moment, then went quickly and silently

out of the room.

A man was standing outside.

"What did he say?" asked he.

"Be quiet!" said the Ghost, taking off

his horse's head and discovering a man's very

serious face. "The joke was good. But we

have done it too well. I think he is dead of

terror; we had better be as silent as a

tomb about all this. The magistrate would

never believe in a joke; we would be held

responsible for this death and pay a heavy

penalty."

THE END

Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury, England.