Dot did not need to ring the bell. There was a whisking noise and Mr Butler appeared with the coffee tray, setting it down on the table without disturbing a grain of the coloured coffee sugar pyramid.

'I wish I knew how he did that,' said Jane thoughtfully.

'Miss Thomas says that only saints bilocate,' Ruth reminded her sister.

'She hasn't met Mr Butler,' Jane told her.

They were bantering to give Miss Eliza time to recover her nerve. For a moment Dot feared that she was about to start crying again, but Miss Eliza stiffened her upper lip, gulped a cup of scalding coffee and began to explain.

'I told you about Lady Alice Harborough, whom I knew in London? She is a marquess's daughter. Her family crest is two quarters a field sable with chevron argent, one quarter a field gules with a mullet of six points, or, and one quarter a field azure with a serpent, coiled to strike, or. The helmet is correct for her rank and the supporters are dolphins, like these here.'

Jane and Ruth inspected the odd, roly-poly animals and agreed that they were indeed what had been tattooed on the dead man's arm.

'What shall I tell her?'

'Well, there isn't a lot to tell so far,' said Dot practically. 'It's so long ago. Did her grandad lose a gardener or someone, about seventy years ago?'

'Not a gardener,' said Eliza, taking more coffee. 'An heir.'

In the fifteenth year of the reign of the glorious Emperor Lord of the Dragon Throne Kwong Sui of the Ching Dynasty, Great Heat, sixth month, third day.

To the ill.u.s.trious and well-beloved nephew Sung Ma from his uncle. It is my sad duty to tell you that your mother, our sister Tan, is very ill and calling for you. The priests say that she will not last long. Come and share our mourning. You have duties here and your sister is distressed at your absence. She presented her husband with a baby boy, born almost at New Year, and lacks only your presence to be as happy as can be expected.

Heaven frowns on excess, nephew. You have found enough gold and the Lin family have reported well of you. Come home, Sung Ma. Your disgrace is forgotten. Your place is waiting for you and I have begun negotiations for your wife.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

How can you pa.s.s such days of quiet and calm When human life is sore beset with ills?

Su Tungpo, translated by Lin Yutang Lin Chung had expected gales of laughter to greet his arrival at the farm in such an exotic costume, but only old Uncle Lin Tao reacted. The old man helped Lin out of the car, boggled a little, then nodded.

'Very wise, cousin Chung. We hear that you need to talk to the ghosts, and in that garb, they will at least not spit at you. Come in, please, we are all awaiting your honoured arrival. We have heard that you are taking over from your honoured and revered grandmother, and we are eager to account to you for our work.'

This was, of course, not true. No one could be pleased at the sudden advent of a new boss, who might be more captious and difficult than the old lady herself. But it was courteous of the old man and Lin allowed himself to be conducted inside.

It was an old-fashioned Australian farmhouse with verandahs all around, but while Australians grew happy wanderer or potato vine, Chinese grew pa.s.sionfruit, jasmine and grapes. The boards were newly painted, though not suspi-ciously new, the paths were swept and the house breathed cooking and jasmine flowers. The whole household of twenty-two was gathered in a large room with a table running its whole length.

Lin was introduced to a number of previously unknown cousins and second cousins, all of whom murmured polite greetings and some of whom were very pretty girls. Lin approved of pretty girls. He was conducted to a throne-like chair, carved from blackwood and undoubtedly an heirloom. A ceremonial cup of tea was brought to him by the old man. Acceptance of it meant that Lin Chung was now ruler of his family and this household.

He accepted it with some trepidation. Lin was not yet comfortable with the idea of being head of the family. But it was good, strong, Jasmine-flavoured tea. Power, he reflected, tasted sweet.

He would be shown the accounts and given a guided tour of the farm later. Now he would have to endure a banquet, and ma.s.sive umbrage would be taken if he did not at least taste every dish. Lin family gossip was still busy with the Sin of Uncle Tan, a knockabout elderly uncle who spent most of his time as a drover and boundary rider. He had not only rejected several dishes with contumely, but had flung a piece of roasted pork with special Szechuan sauce-to his dog!

Poor old Uncle Tan, thought Lin as he was handed a pair of gold-tipped chopsticks. Not that it bothered Uncle overmuch. He had just belched politely, patted a few small heads, tipped his hat, and ridden off, his dog running behind him. A life which gained in attractiveness as the feast wore on and more and more superlative dishes were brought forth from the kitchen. The youngest beans, the crispest water chestnuts, the finest chickens, quail, turkey, duck, pork, something which tasted like beef, bean curd, fish, sh.e.l.lfish, yabby, crab, multi-tudinous fruits and combinations salted, pickled, stir-fried, marinated and cleverly enclosed in pastry of four separate types were spread forth.

Lin adopted a tactic which he had seen his grandmother use. He called forth the children and began to feed them tidbits. They opened their mouths like little birds and he found himself moved by their trust. He now understood Old Lady Lin's uncharacteristic generosity. The children were small, well plaited and charmingly dressed little gluttons and they disposed of a heroic amount of food.

Just when even the stoutest little boy was beginning to flag and turn green, the soup arrived and the end of the meal was announced. The children flopped quietly into the garden and lay under bushes, breathing heavily. They were very happy. And their Cousin Lin, instead of the monster they had been expecting, had turned out to be a Very Good Cousin indeed.

Due to his grandmother's cunning, Lin was still able to move as he was conducted around the holding. Water from the Campbells Creek provided for a string of fish ponds, in which golden carp swam lazily, on which lotus flowers floated, and near which water-loving plants flourished. The first tomatoes were ripening on the vine, along with pumpkins, melons and cuc.u.mbers. Lin nodded at a swathe of green salad vegetables growing alongside tilled rows of root vegetables. Several of the small children were installed to throw pebbles at intruding birds. Grapes ran eagerly along their wires. Soy beans flourished.

'We make the best vinegar,' observed Lin Tao. 'Both red wine and all varieties of soy sauces and pickles. I have always thought that we should consider selling it on a broader market.' He looked sidelong at Lin Chung. Old Lady Lin would never hear of this idea but he might as well test it on the young master and see if he had an open mind.

'Where?' asked Lin.

'America,' said Lin Tao. 'Freight prices are lower now and we make a most superior product. If we could, say, send out samples to the best Chinese restaurants in San Francisco...'

'Do so,' said Lin. 'And try Darwin and Broome. The expense will be trifling and if it succeeds we will have another market. If it does not succeed we have lost little. This is a most well-ordered and attractive farm, Cousin. I congratulate you.'

Lin Tao muttered his thanks, looking down modestly.

'The stone fruit crop this year will be poor,' he confessed. 'And I fear that the codlin moth has got into the apples. This damp humid air encourages the insects. But we expect excellent results in the vine fruits and our flowers sell very well in Melbourne.'

'Expect a suitable bonus,' Lin told him. 'Now tell me, Cousin, about the establishment of this farm. How long have we been here?'

Pausing only to draw the young master's attention to an unusually beautiful cl.u.s.ter of wisteria against the dark, heavy drystone of the boundary wall, Lin Tao racked his brains for the farm's history as told to him by his own grandfather. Who would have thought the new master would want to know about history? Old Lady Lin only wanted to know about profit.

'I believe that it was about 1854, sir, when the goldfields were established. Our venerable ancestor purchased this land when the gold had been extracted, hoping to get enough water from the damaged bed of the Campbells Creek to nurture his vegetables for the summer, which here is very hot and dry, with north winds like a dragon's breath. Our ancestor was patient. The Lins have always been good farmers. He watched the seasons for a whole year before he began planting. Then he began with the easiest crops-cabbages and spinach. They grew well. Then he tried potatoes, onions and carrots. Suitably manured, they also grew well and he began to sell them to the miners in Castlemaine. Since then, we have been here, altering our crops to suit the climate and the change of fashions. When bad seasons came we had water, when crops were damaged by insects we found suitable sprays, and when fire came we fought the fire and then rebuilt and replanted. Since the Lin family was arranging for the education of our children, fewer of us stayed on the land and we have had to employ some local labour. This has had... difficulties,' said Lin Tao. Lin could imagine. 'But some of the children come home, and mostly we are self-sufficient. Now, master, if you have seen enough, perhaps we could return to the house.'

'Oh? Why?' asked Lin idly, hoping that food would not be mentioned to him again for a long time.

'Why, for the family council's judgments,' said Lin Tao. 'It has been a year since anyone came from Melbourne.'

'Of course,' agreed Lin, panicking inwardly. Family council? Who held family councils any more? He wasn't prepared for the weight of judgment to fall on his unworthy shoulders.

Then again, how bad could the sins of the Lin family be? It was unlikely to entail anything really scandalous, because such things would have been quietly dealt with by Uncle Tao and the formidable Great Aunt Wing. It was unlikely that any real problems would be left for the master's judgment. Not telling things to the master which might upset him was the bedrock of the Chinese family system.

So Lin mounted his throne again in the large, scented room, having offered suitable incense to the ancestral tablets, and received a bundle of accounts for perusal. He read through them. Neat. Well kept. No sign of any peculation and the farm was making a modest profit, which was astounding considering the liberal way in which it supplied the Lin family restaurants with fresh produce. The fancy goldfish were doing well though the market for lotus flowers meant that few lotus seeds were being packaged for sale. Lin asked a couple of questions, listened to the answers, and marked the accounts with his personal seal. There was no betraying sigh of relief from Uncle Tao. The accounts were fine.

Then a few defaulters were brought for his judgment. Great Aunt Wing, a haggard woman who had personally delivered, fed, dosed, instructed and spanked most of those present, clipped a small boy over the back of the head as she drove him forward. The child knelt. It was the small stout boy and he was still too full of banquet to be really daunted.

'Inattentive to his studies!' Great Aunt Wing denounced. 'Out every day watching birds!'

'Who speaks for the boy?' asked Lin, trying to remember the procedure.

Uncle Tao stepped forward. 'Knows all the birds by their songs,' he said. 'The ducks follow him. Hatched out pheasants' eggs under a broody hen, which everyone said could not be done. Looks after the quails. Just doesn't like books,' concluded Uncle Tao.

'I can have books about birds sent from the city,' said Lin. 'If I do that, will you read them?'

'Yes, honourable Cousin,' the boy whispered.

'And if you read the bird books then you will also read other books,' Lin said as magisterially as possible. 'Then you may be learned enough to write a book of your own. About birds.'

'Yes, honourable Cousin!' exclaimed the boy, who had never thought of education as being about anything important. 'I will!'

'See that you do,' said Lin, and waved the boy away.

'Idle, useless layabout called Fuchsia!' Great Aunt Wing ushered in one of the pretty girls. 'Won't wash dishes because it will dirty her hands! Won't go out into the sun because of her complexion! Thinks only of her appearance!'

'Who speaks for her?' asked Lin. The girl looked insolent and frightened. Pushed too far, Fuchsia might run for Melbourne, and what would happen to an unprotected Chinese girl in the city did not bear thinking about.

'She is gentle,' said Uncle Tao. 'She cares for the sick very carefully. She reads to me very fluently and knows a lot of poems by heart.'

'I may have a task for her,' said Lin. 'Let her stand by the door. If she suits, then she will have a profession and will be paid a salary and she can spend it on cosmetics if that is what she wishes.'

'Wants to marry a ghost!' snarled Great Aunt Wing, dragging a young man forward by his collar. She hit him over the back of the head so hard that she drove him to his knees. The young man looked up and stared straight into Lin's face, a breach of protocol.

'Who speaks for him?' asked Lin.

Uncle Tao was silent. No one, it appeared, spoke for this unfortunate young Lin.

'Speak for yourself, then,' said Lin. 'What is this about?'

'Maisie,' said the young man, sullenly. 'She wants to marry me and I want to marry her but they won't let me.'

'How old are you?'

'Twenty-two, Cousin.'

'We cannot stop you from marrying whoever you wish,' Lin said gently.

'But I am owed a share of the profits,' objected the young man. 'After all, it's not the first time this has happened. Remember Hu Ky, who became Annie Reilly!'

'Hu Ky?' asked Lin. Someone had said that name to him. Yes, that frightful Hu grandmother. Liely, she had said. Reilly to her Cantonese ear would be Liely. Lin shivered a little. What a woman. What a family. But he should not keep this young man on his knees so long.

'Come and sit at the table and we will talk privately. What is your name?'

'They call me Tommy,' said the young man reluctantly.

'And I am Lin Chung. Everyone else can go back to their duties,' said Lin, waving a dismissive hand. 'Except you, Miss Fuchsia. Sit down in that chair and wait for me, if you please.'

Great Aunt Wing scowled but collected the others and everyone left, closing the door.

'Tell me about Maisie,' said Lin quietly.

'Her father has a horse stud down on the Campbells Creek,' said Tommy, readily enough. 'She's his third daughter and he doesn't care much for her. His son is just about ready to take over the run when his father retires at the end of the year. The old man is going to his sister's at Shepparton. There won't be room for Maisie at her brother's house. His new wife can't stand her. She's a good girl,' protested Tommy pa.s.sionately.

'I'm sure she is,' said Lin. 'Why not marry her and bring her here?'

'Because Great Aunt Wing would make her life h.e.l.l,' said Tommy dispa.s.sionately. 'I've been working here all my life with the fish. If I could buy a bit of land down on the flats, I could make ponds and breed trout. Good market for trout. And yabbies. Build a little house. I could get the land and the water rights for next to nothing.'

'How close to nothing?' asked Lin Chung.

'I reckon twenty pounds would do it. Maybe thirty for some building materials. We wouldn't want much to start with, Maisie knows that. I got the licence. We could get married tomorrow.'

'That,' said Lin, 'is an idea. Very well. I will personally advance you fifty pounds. This is not family money, you under-stand, but my own. If your Maisie is still of the same mind, you shall marry her tomorrow and bring her here to begin with, so that she may learn some Chinese ways and please you. You may have family labour to dig your ponds and that will give you enough capital to build a little house. In return for your past labour you shall have provisions from the farm for five years, free of charge. I will undertake to explain the situation to Great Aunt and she will not make trouble.'

'You're a braver man than I am,' said Tommy, tongue loosened by shock.

'I trained on Grandmother,' said Lin. 'Now, tell me all about Hu Ky and Mr Reilly.'

'Honoured Cousin, after such a generous gift I will tell you anything you like. But the Venerable Ones know more about it than me.'

The boy was clearly itching to get away to his Maisie and it would be cruel to keep him.

'Off you go,' said Lin. He was getting the hang of the dismissive gesture. 'Send in Great Aunt Wing and ask for some tea and salted pine nuts.'

'And me, Cousin?' asked Fuchsia, from her footstool by the door.

'I will find you something to do which will not soil your hands,' said Lin. 'Stay out of Great Aunt's way, and when she has left this room, you come back.'

Fuchsia squeaked her thanks and escaped as Great Aunt Wing came in, escorting a boy with tea.

Lin waited until the old woman was seated and said slowly, 'I have solved your problem with Tommy. I will finance his venture with the trout personally. He will not be a drain on the farm's finances and I think a little exile might be good for him. And did not the ancients say that "nothing must come between a man and his wife"?'

Great Aunt made a complicated movement which might have been a sitting-down flounce, but said nothing. Lin felt a little dizzy. So far, he was getting away with this.

'And Fuchsia will be well occupied and will certainly work hard in the profession I have in mind. Now, Great Aunt, tell me all about Hu Ky and Mr Reilly.'

'It was long ago,' said Great Aunt. 'During the Gold Rush. The respectable daughter of a respectable merchant was given in marriage-proper marriage, mind, not concubinage-to a Mr Reilly who came here as a miner. He found gold and was comfortable and able to support a wife. And he spoke Cantonese, having been a sailor. Alice's father deemed him appropriate and his descendants are still here. Why?'

'Old Mrs Hu mentioned a sister and I wondered if perhaps there was a connection. The Hu family didn't steal that gold, Great Aunt. I did a settlement with Mr Hu and it wasn't them. Therefore I am searching, very late in the day, for four hundred ounces of gold which went missing in 1857 and I also need to discover the fate of the couriers. There were four, led by someone called Sung, or so Great Great Uncle said.'

'I never did think it was the Hu family,' exclaimed Great Aunt Wing, slapping her brocaded knee. 'I was friends with some of the Hu girls before they left for Melbourne and they all said that their ancestors hadn't stolen it, that they also had searched and no one knew what became of it, or of the bearers. What a mystery!' Great Aunt Wing appeared to have forgotten about Tommy, which was all to the good. 'There were four couriers, so they say, led by a scholar turned herbalist called Sung Ma. If it wasn't the Hu family, then the Ah camp was closest to the Moonlight road. I wonder if any of them are still alive? Well, Great Nephew, we will help as we can. Should we recover that much gold I am sure that you will allow us a reasonable sum for new pig pens.'

'You shall have pig pens which will be the envy of the neigh-bourhood,' promised Lin. 'I am taking the wagon into Castle-maine tomorrow morning and Fuchsia will come with me. Now, how much notice will you need for Tommy's marriage feast? And I am sure that, since the girl is a stranger and will not be staying in your domain, you will treat Tommy's Maisie as you would an honoured guest,' he said without emphasis.

There was a nerve-wracking pause during which Great Aunt Wing stared straight into Lin Chung's eyes. He did not blink. Then she gave a resigned nod.

'The feast will be ordered as you wish for tomorrow night, Great Nephew,' she said quietly. 'The young woman will not be able to complain of her treatment here. And if you are really intending to travel in the wagon tomorrow, it must be cleansed. Its last load was horse dung. I will send Fuchsia to you instantly,' she added, making it perfectly clear that she knew what he had arranged with the young Miss. The ability to know exactly what skulduggery was being concocted under her roof was a sixth sense of all old Chinese ladies, Lin knew. He took a sip of tea and nodded in return. He was unexpectedly weary. Being head of a family was exhausting. He arranged that Fuchsia would accompany him on the morrow, fending off the young woman's questions. He allowed a small cousin to conduct him to the seldom used, elaborate guest house, availed himself of a mineral water bath, and went to sleep, along with the rest of the farm, as the sun went down.

Phryne caught herself as she was falling asleep into her gla.s.s of wine. Old Bill Gaskin was sweeping the floor with short, stabbing strokes. His broom whispered, unlike Mr Harrison's voice. The bar was closed, but as a bona fide traveller, Phryne could sit there all night and before Mr Harrison got to anything like a peroration it might well be dawn. She forced her concen-tration to a point and was rewarded at once.

'Then there was doctors-well, they called themselves doctors-they were a bodgy lot! There was old Doctor Andersen, he was locked up because he took some bit of some poor kid's stomach and kept it-kept it in a jar! Then there was a bloke called Beecham who guaranteed to embalm a body so that it would never rot, not never. They called him the Egyptian Professor because he was always talking about the old Gyppoes. Dad said he was as mad as a cut snake.'

Phryne dared not interrupt. Tempting as it was to take this ruffian by the throat and squeeze gently until he told her every-thing she needed to know, this would probably mean that he would lose his place in his reminiscences and not for anything would Phryne agree to listen to them all again. She was making a mental note to address the League of Nations on the subject of including 'listening to Mr Harrison for more than ten seconds' as cruel and unusual punishment under their Geneva Convention when at last he concluded his sentence and told her what she wanted to know.

'Doc Mercer took over from the Professor when he died suddenly in 1858. He told my dad that there were all sorts of stuffed things in the house, all meant to be willed to some university somewhere, but the old Prof never made a will. So Doc Mercer knocked them down to a travelling show for a few shillings. Even the stuffed crocodile. Dunno what they wanted with that.'