The Collected Short Stories - Jeffrey Archer [241]
The embarrassed minister took the gift and tried hopelessly to thank the little old man. The craftsman once again bowed low as Sir Alexander and the expressionless mandarin left the little workshop.
As the party traveled back to Peking, the mandarin observed the terrible state the minister was in, and uncharacteristically spoke first:
“Your Excellency is no doubt aware,” he said, “of the old Chinese custom that when a stranger has been generous, you must return the kindness within the calendar year.”
Sir Alexander smiled his thanks and thought carefully about the mandarin’s words. Once back in his official residence, he went immediately to the embassy’s extensive library to see if he could discover a realistic value for the little masterpiece. After much diligent research, he came across a drawing of a Ming statue that was almost an exact copy of the one now in his possession, and with the help of the mandarin he was able to assess its true worth, a figure that came to almost three years’ emolument for a servant of the Crown. The minister discussed the problem with Lady Heathcote, and she left her husband in no doubt as to the course of action he must take.
The following week the minister despatched a letter by private messenger to his bankers, Coutts & Co. in the Strand, London, requesting that they send a large part of his savings to reach him in Peking as quickly as possible. When the funds arrived nine weeks later the minister again approached the mandarin, who listened to his questions and, seven days later, gave him the details he had asked for.
The mandarin had discovered that the little craftsman, Yung Lee, came from the old and trusted family of Yung Shau who had for some five hundred years been craftsmen. Sir Alexander also learned that many of Yung Lee’s ancestors had examples of their work in the palaces of the Manchu princes. Yung Lee himself was growing old and wished to retire to the hills above the village where his ancestors had always died. His son was ready to take over the workshop from him and continue the family tradition. The minister thanked the mandarin for his diligence and had only one more request of him. The mandarin listened sympathetically to the ambassador from England and returned to the palace to seek advice.
A few days later the empress granted Sir Alexander’s request.
Almost a year to the day the minister, accompanied by the mandarin, set out again from Peking for the village of Ha Li Chuan. When Sir Alexander arrived, he immediately dismounted from his horse and entered the workshop that he remembered so well. The old man was seated at his bench, his flat hat slightly askew, a piece of uncarved ivory held lovingly between his fingers. He looked up from his work and shuffled toward the minister, not recognizing his guest immediately until he could almost touch the foreign giant. Then he bowed low. The minister spoke through the mandarin:
“I have returned, sir, within the calendar year to repay my debt.”
“There was no need, Your Excellency. My family is honored that the little statue lives in a great embassy and may one day be admired by the people of your own land.”
The minister could think of no words to form an adequate reply and simply requested that the old man should accompany him on a short journey.
The craftsman agreed without question, and the three men set out on donkeys toward the north. They traveled for over two hours up a thin winding path into the hills behind the craftsman’s workshop, and when they reached the village of Ma Tien, they were met by another mandarin, who bowed low to the minister and requested Sir Alexander and the craftsman to continue their journey with him on foot. They walked in silence to the far side of the village and only stopped when they had reached a hollow in the hill from which there was a magnificent view of the valley all the way down to Ha Li Chuan. In the hollow stood a newly completed small white house of the most