At Mukden also the ghost has been seen, hovering over the spot where the explosion took place, dodging about the bridge and examining the rails at Huangkutun, outside Mukden, as though he were still not satisfied how the affair happened. Sometimes two spectral figures are seen, the other being General Wu Chun-sheng, his fellow-victim.
It was at Changehun that T first saw the little ghost, on the night of August 12, in the picturesque Yamato Hotel in the Japanese town. Very few people are acquainted with Changchun, but it is a city worth knowing. Chang Tso-lin frequented the Chinete city in his younger days before the beginning of the Japanese settlement, which has now super soded and eclipsed the Chinese city. A favourite wife came from Chang un, It {s the. outpost of Japanese terrliorial expansion in. Manchuria the terminus of the South Manchuria Railway, and the Japanese sett! ment around the railway station is ruled by Japan, ay thoroughly and ficiently as any city in Japan.
The Yamato Hotel fe served only in the garden amid fairy lights and electric lamps, and little fMluminated fountains throwing up cool sprays. A gurgling stream flows along one side of the pardon, here little kimono-clag waitresses, Ait among the little white tables, serving anything from a seven-course dinner to a simple ice cream, or a bottle of cold beer. The garden Is the one attractive resort for the whole town, and Changehun's beauty and chivalry, Japanese and Chinese, assemble there. Occasionally a little? figure in military uniform takes it? seat at one of the tables; but when a waitress comes, it vanishes, After dinner one may return the large drawing-room in the hotel, where @ good German piano is to be found, Here assembled with me one night several foreign friends, one of them an accomplished musician, wh without a note of music before her gave a recital from Chopin, and Beethoven, the midst of the Sonata," when I suddenly observed in a corner of the dimly-lighted room the weird little figure that I had heard of, moving among the cur tains, and beckoning to me to join him,' T moved to his corner.
A Ghostly Conversation still suffering" he said, palming to the gash across his forehead, "from this."
"Who did it"? T asked, for want of something to say.
jow should T know? "What dais it matter? ~My time was. come, "Stil," I replied, "it wasn't the act of a friend, Does not your me stiner tell you who was your enemy?"
"AM were enemies, Instinct told me L had to return home. T ought never to have gone to Peking. I Knew the danger but T was forced Vho pressed you to go?.
"The way of man is not in hima celt, T went! tommy death Wke, condemned man to execution. The victim stands blindfold; the execu tion squad received the order! What does it matter which man fired the ita} bullet jut who gave the order?"
was Fate, there was no The Japanese settlement is well Inid out, with broad roads, lined with many business houses; it has suburban avenues, gardens, and parks, and a foreign-style hotel worthy of some popular seaside resort. The hotel has a fine approach, a floral vestibule, large reception and reading rooms and a public garden adjacent where every evening there assemble not only the well-to-do folks of the town but also the hotel guests, for the hotel': ming room is closed at night, and fat this time of the year, dinner jut You seem uneasy.
Your not at rest.
How can it be, who not even denounced Can 'T rest in peace died a natural death? Do cere monial honours wash out auch a "Then you have some idea, after all, why were your murderers?
A crash of thunder from the darkened sky, and a sudden down pour of rain, drove the people from the garden' into the room, The figure disappeared,
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.