Dreams?”
“Can I ever forget it?”
“I was born there, Chi Foh. Mai Cha was my nurse, and I was allowed to play with her son, who is now living in the United States and has become very prosperous. He taught me to handle a sampan, and of course I picked up the local dialect. My mother taught me pure Chinese. When I grew up, I was sent to school in England.”
She stopped. Tony found her hand, and held it. “What then, Moon Flower?”
“My mother died. The news nearly killed me, for I worshipped her. I came back. Oh, Chi Foh, I found everything so changed. My poor father was still distracted by the loss of my mother, and the Communist authorities had begun to persecute him because he openly defied their orders.”
Moon Flower opened her cigarette case, but changed her mind and closed it again. “He wouldn’t let me stay at the mission. He insisted that I return to my aunt in Hong Kong and wait there until he joined me. He knew the Communists meant to close the mission, but he wasn’t ready to go.”
“So you went back to Hong Kong?”
“Yes. We had two letters. Then—silence. We tried to find out what had happened. Our letters to Lao Tse-Mung were never answered. At last, and the shock nearly drove me mad, came news that the mission had been burned down, that my father was believed to have died in the fire. My aunt couldn’t stop me. I started at once.”
Tony wanted to say, “How glad I am you did,” but was afraid to break Moon Flower’s train of thought, and so said nothing.
“I went to Lung Chang, to my uncle’s house. I asked him why he had not answered my letters, and he told me he had never received them. He tried to make me understand that China was now a police state, that no one’s correspondence was safe. He confirmed the news that the mission had been burned, but he suspected my father was still alive—probably under arrest.”
Moon Flower, now, was fired with enthusiasm and indignation. She opened her cigarette case again, and this time took one out and allowed Tony to light it.
“My Uncle Tse-Mung advised caution, and patience. But I wasn’t in the mood for either. Wearing a suit of peasant clothes belonging to Mai Cha, but taking some money of my own, I slipped out early one morning and made my way, as a Chinese working girl, to what had been my home. Oh, Chi Foh—”
Moon Flower dropped her cigarette in a tray and lay back with closed eyes.
“I think I understand,” he said softly.
“Nothing was left, but ashes and broken lumber. All our furniture, everything we possessed, all the medical stores, had been burned, stolen, or destroyed. I was walking away from the nuns when I had the good luck to see an old woman I remembered, one of my father’s patients. I knew she was a friend, but I thought she was going to faint when she recognized me. She gave me news which saved me from complete collapse.”
“What was it, Moon Flower?”
“My father had not died. He had been arrested as a spy and taken away. She advised me to try to get information at a summer villa not far from Chia-Ting, owned by Huan Tsung-Chao, Communist governor of the province. Her daughter, Shun-Hi, who had been a nurse in the mission hospital, was employed at the villa. I remembered Shun-Hi. And so, of course, I made my way up to Chia-Ting. But my money was running short. When at last I found the villa, a beautiful place surrounded by acres of gardens, I didn’t quite know what to do.”
Tony was learning more and more about the intrepid spirit of his little companion on the sampan with every word she spoke. She was indeed a treasure, and he found it hard to believe that such a pearl had been placed in his keeping.
“There were many servants,” Moon Flower went on, “and some of them didn’t live in the villa. I watched near the gate by which these girls came out in the evening. And at last I saw Shun-Hi. She walked toward the town, and I followed her until I thought we were alone. Then I spoke to
“Can I ever forget it?”
“I was born there, Chi Foh. Mai Cha was my nurse, and I was allowed to play with her son, who is now living in the United States and has become very prosperous. He taught me to handle a sampan, and of course I picked up the local dialect. My mother taught me pure Chinese. When I grew up, I was sent to school in England.”
She stopped. Tony found her hand, and held it. “What then, Moon Flower?”
“My mother died. The news nearly killed me, for I worshipped her. I came back. Oh, Chi Foh, I found everything so changed. My poor father was still distracted by the loss of my mother, and the Communist authorities had begun to persecute him because he openly defied their orders.”
Moon Flower opened her cigarette case, but changed her mind and closed it again. “He wouldn’t let me stay at the mission. He insisted that I return to my aunt in Hong Kong and wait there until he joined me. He knew the Communists meant to close the mission, but he wasn’t ready to go.”
“So you went back to Hong Kong?”
“Yes. We had two letters. Then—silence. We tried to find out what had happened. Our letters to Lao Tse-Mung were never answered. At last, and the shock nearly drove me mad, came news that the mission had been burned down, that my father was believed to have died in the fire. My aunt couldn’t stop me. I started at once.”
Tony wanted to say, “How glad I am you did,” but was afraid to break Moon Flower’s train of thought, and so said nothing.
“I went to Lung Chang, to my uncle’s house. I asked him why he had not answered my letters, and he told me he had never received them. He tried to make me understand that China was now a police state, that no one’s correspondence was safe. He confirmed the news that the mission had been burned, but he suspected my father was still alive—probably under arrest.”
Moon Flower, now, was fired with enthusiasm and indignation. She opened her cigarette case again, and this time took one out and allowed Tony to light it.
“My Uncle Tse-Mung advised caution, and patience. But I wasn’t in the mood for either. Wearing a suit of peasant clothes belonging to Mai Cha, but taking some money of my own, I slipped out early one morning and made my way, as a Chinese working girl, to what had been my home. Oh, Chi Foh—”
Moon Flower dropped her cigarette in a tray and lay back with closed eyes.
“I think I understand,” he said softly.
“Nothing was left, but ashes and broken lumber. All our furniture, everything we possessed, all the medical stores, had been burned, stolen, or destroyed. I was walking away from the nuns when I had the good luck to see an old woman I remembered, one of my father’s patients. I knew she was a friend, but I thought she was going to faint when she recognized me. She gave me news which saved me from complete collapse.”
“What was it, Moon Flower?”
“My father had not died. He had been arrested as a spy and taken away. She advised me to try to get information at a summer villa not far from Chia-Ting, owned by Huan Tsung-Chao, Communist governor of the province. Her daughter, Shun-Hi, who had been a nurse in the mission hospital, was employed at the villa. I remembered Shun-Hi. And so, of course, I made my way up to Chia-Ting. But my money was running short. When at last I found the villa, a beautiful place surrounded by acres of gardens, I didn’t quite know what to do.”
Tony was learning more and more about the intrepid spirit of his little companion on the sampan with every word she spoke. She was indeed a treasure, and he found it hard to believe that such a pearl had been placed in his keeping.
“There were many servants,” Moon Flower went on, “and some of them didn’t live in the villa. I watched near the gate by which these girls came out in the evening. And at last I saw Shun-Hi. She walked toward the town, and I followed her until I thought we were alone. Then I spoke to
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