Chapter  20  The Letters

Dong Mae and Eugene sat at the bar.

"I should thank you for setting me free, sir," Dong Mae said, and lifted his glass of wine. "This is my toast to you."

Both of the men downed their wine in a single gulp.

"Minister Hayashi and Lord Lee Wan Ik are planning something, and it has to do with Lord Go Sa Hong," Dong Mae said, his brow furrowed.

Eugene stilled.

"They wanted me to sign the confession, that Lord Go Sa Hong was the person who orchestrated the killing of the missionary."

"Be careful," said Dong Mae, "these are strange times."

"I would say the same thing to you," said Eugene. "Be on your guard, always, and at all times."

"You have no need to worry about me," said Dong Mae. "It is her that you - that we - must protect."

"She is in danger."

"I will protect her," said Eugene. "Rest assured that I will protect her, to the end of my days."

Dong Mae felt a chill at the words.

Why did he feel this overwhelming sense of dread, that a dark, heavy cloud was hovering, forming, taking shape, descending, gathering momentum, gathering strength, approaching stealthily, steadily, inevitably, and that it was only a matter of time before the world as they knew it would change forever, and that nothing, and no one, would be able to stop it?

Hee Sung sat down between them.

"Gentlemen, I propose a toast to celebrate the grand opening of my new office today."

"I am starting a newspaper, and my office is at the pawnshop. My newspaper will be printed in Korean. There will be a white flower at the entrance, in case you miss it," he grinned.

Dong Mae looked at him sourly. "Why must you put a white flower at the entrance?"

"I like useless things, like white flowers," Hee Sung said, and he looked downcast all of a sudden.

"Good luck on your newspaper," Eugene said, rather frostily.

Dong Mae looked from one to the other. There was something between the two men, and he would find out what it was, sooner or later.

The three men walked slowly along the dark street, lit by the moonlight.

"The flowers have started to bloom," Hee Sung said. "Spring is here, and the moon is beautiful tonight. I am content."

"Why are you walking with me?" Dong Mae scowled at Eugene and Hee Sung.

"I am walking back to the Glory Hotel. This is the path that I take," Eugene said, looking hurt.

"Then take a different path," Dong Mae snarled.

Next to him, Hee Sung started humming a tune.

It sounded dreary and mournful, and annoying.

"Must you hum that tune?" Dong Mae said, through gritted teeth.

"I like to hum when I am cheerful," Hee Sung said. "It relaxes me."

"I slice a man in half when I am feeling annoyed," Dong Mae his sword.

Hee Sung stopped humming at once.

"Do you slice a man in half vertically or horizontally?" Eugene asked, with interest.

"Do you shoot a man in half vertically or horizontally?" Dong Mae asked. "And why are you still walking with me? I thought that I told you to take a different path."

"I do not know any other path. I only know this path. I could get lost, or run into bad men. You would not want me to get lost, or run into bad men, would you?"

"I thought that we were friends," Eugene whined.

Dong Mae walked faster, and Eugene and Hee Sung hastened their steps to keep up with him.

"I am walking with you because this path offers the most beautiful sights," Hee Sung said. "I am a man who likes useless things - spring, flowers and the moon." He sighed deeply, looking sad.

"This is where we part ways, gentlemen," said Dong Mae. "I have to uphold my dignity, and the company that I keep is very important."

A man came to Hee Sung, and drew him aside.

Dong Mae stopped, and watched the man and Hee Sung. They spoke for a long time, and Hee Sung looked troubled and crestfallen, occasionally rubbing his eyes and brow. Eventually, the conversation ended, and Hee Sung and the man parted ways.

Dong Mae stepped into the man's path.

"Stop," he said. "What did you talk to the nobleman about? Tell me, and I will reward you richly." He took out a handful of coins.

The man's eyes gleamed. Today was his lucky day. Lord Kim Hee Sung had already paid him handsomely for what he had told him, and the swordsman was offering him more money to tell the same story. He had worked as a servant to old Lord Kim, and had witnessed the beating to death of Eugene's father, and the suicide of his mother by leaping into the well. It was very sad, and the boy had disappeared after that, and nobody knew whether he was alive, or dead, until he had surfaced very recently as an American soldier, and had come to confront Lord Kim An Pyeong and his wife at their home.

The man took his money, and bowed.

Alone, Dong Mae mused about the strange workings of fate that had brought an American and a nobleman together. It was a tragedy, and what was even more tragic was the fact that the American was in love with the nobleman's fiancèè; perhaps, though, the engagement would not last for long, judging by the sad dimeanour of Hee Sung at the bar and during the walk.

The thought of the engagement possibly ending was depressing.

If the engagement were annulled, he thought, it would take her one more step nearer to the American, and one more step further from me.

He sighed.

The Chief of Police was visibly shaking.

He had been surrounded by Dong Mae's men, and forcibly taken to Dong Mae early in the morning as he stepped out of his house.

"Spare me, sir," he begged. "I had no choice, but to do what Lord Lee Wan Ik wanted."

"Why did you implicate Lord Go Sa Hong?"

"Lord Lee Wan Ik said that he must be named as the plotter of the killing of the missionary."

The Chief of Police grovelled at Dong Mae's feet.

"Please, sir, I know nothing," he wept. "The clerk at the post office would know more. I hear that he keeps all letters sent by Lord Go, and burns them."

The clerk at the post office fell on his knees next to the weeping Chief of Police.

"Tell him everything, everything," the Chief of Police cried. "Spare me, sir, I know nothing."

"Did you keep the letters sent by Lord Go, and burn them?" Dong Mae asked.

"I had no choice; Lord Lee Wan Ik forced me to," the clerk cried. "I burned them all, save one." He put a trembling hand into his pocket, and pulled out an envelope.

Dong Mae opened the envelope, and read the letter folded inside.

Dear Sir,

Our beloved Joseon is in danger of being taken over by the Japanese, and treacherous traitors in the Joseon court, who have turned their backs on His Majesty, the King of Joseon, are colluding with the Japanese to take over, and destroy our beloved Motherland. Please respond immediately upon receiving this letter, so that we can arrange a Time and Place to meet to discuss the best way to recover, and preserve our beloved Joseon. 

                                                                                                    With warmest regards,

                                                                                                         Lord Go Sa Hong

The high brick wall that lined the outer courtyard of the Go mansion was no barrier to the dark figure; a swift, lightning vault, and he was over the wall, and in the courtyard, the early blossoms of spring asleep in the night, their tiny, fragile buds turned inward as if to protect themselves from the chill of an early spring night, and the low shrubs cast in shadow, elongated and magnified, so that they appeared like monstrous creatures of the night, seeking to obstruct the swordsman who treaded purposefully, steadily, determinedly, with long, firm strides along the path lit by the slanting moonlight, the path that led directly toward the group of people gathered at the front steps of the mansion, frozen, their mouths open in shock, their faces filled with fear and dread.

Lord Go stepped forward.

"How dare you enter my house in this outrageous manner? Leave at once, intruder," he bellowed.

Dong Mae continued to walk toward the old man, and stopped when he was directly in front of him.

Putting his hand into his kimono, he took out the letter.

"My lord, this is your letter; the rest have been intercepted, and burnt, save this. I came to warn you, that you are in danger, that your family is in danger," he glanced sideways at Ae Shin who had come running because of the commotion.

"Take care, my lord, eyes are watching," he bowed.

The old man looked at him, and his face was filled with surprise, and gratitude.

"Thank you for coming, and thank you for warning me. I will heed your warning."

He bowed to the swordsman.

Dong Mae his heels, and walked calmly out of the front gate, his long shadow gradually diminishing to darkness, leaving the crowd of onlookers stunned and in a state of disbelief. Had he really scaled the walls, had he marched up to the lord of the manor, and spoken those words of warning? They turned and looked at the old man, and it was no dream, for in his hand, he was clutching an envelope, and the gnarled, wrinkled fingers, illuminated by the moonlight, trembled a little.

"This letter was delivered for you, madam," said the maid, with a clumsy attempt at a curtsy.

Hina closed her eyes at the sight. The pain that she had to endure watching the awkward, self-conscious curtsies of the maids was only second to watching the horror of witnessing over-zealous maids from the countryside, used to hard labour and toil, scrubbing her silverware with a metal scrub and coarse salt. She shuddered, remembering the abused silverware, scrubbed clean of its silver sheen, and replaced with a horrific pattern of scratches and lines, and the maid, beaming with pride, and saying, "Madam, I spent the whole morning cleaning it." The maid had been despatched to the laundry room at once, where she toiled, and worked hard, and scrubbed, and was happy and content, even though she could never understand why Madam Kudo Hina had turned pale, and not said a word of praise, looking at that spotless, scrubbed silverware.

Hina dismissed the maid, and read the letter.

Dear Madam,

I would like to see you in person on a most urgent matter.

An incident happened at my house yesterday night. Gu Dong Mae, whom I know is a close acquaintance and associate of yours, trespassed upon my property. He spoke to my grandfather, Lord Go Sa Hong, and passed him a letter, before leaving.

My grandfather has not informed us of his reason for trespassing upon our property, nor what the contents of the letter were.

I am troubled by the incident, and I would like to impose on you to find out the reason for his shocking behaviour.

I know that it is presumptuous of me to ask you to do this favour for me, but I am desperate.

I look forward to our meeting.

                                                                                                                 With best regards,

                                                                                                                  Lady Go Ae Shin

Hina leaned back in her high-backed chair, and smiled.

"Will wonders never cease? Dong Mae, oh, Dong Mae, you poor, besotted fool, look what you have got yourself into." 

Hina leaned over, and poured more coffee for Dong Mae.

"I wish to thank you," he said, "for taking care of Hotaru when I was away."

He looked at her open wardrobe.

"Do you want a new gown? Would you accept that as a token of my gratitude?"

Hina shrugged.

"I have enough gowns," she said. "I do know a way that you could thank me, though."

She smiled at him slyly.

"Name it," he said. "Name your price."

"It is not money that I want," she smirked. "I have enough money."

She leaned forward. 

"Tell me why you climbed that wall, and trespassed into Lord Go Sa Hong's property, and what the contents of the letter were, the letter that you gave to him."

He stared at her, his face in shock.

She laughed.

"Your beloved wrote to me. She asked me to find out why you scaled the wall, and what the contents of the letter were. Those were her concerns."

She laughed again.

"It would not be because you were impatient to gaze upon her face, or that love lent you strength, and wings to scale that wall?" she giggled. "It IS a very tall wall. You could have fallen, and broken your neck, then where would I be able to find a protector worthy to replace you?"

He glared at her.

She pouted, and crinkled her nose.

Against his will, he smiled.

"I could never resist you when you look like that, my lovely," he said. "Very well, I will tell you why I did what I did, and what that letter was, and when I am done, you have to tell me something that you have never told anyone about before."

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with laughter and mischief.

He leaned over, close to her, and whispered in her ear, so close that his warm breath stirred the soft tendril of hair that wisped over her cheek.

"I scaled the wall," and there was laughter in his voice, "to protect him, and to protect her, and he wrote the letter to protect the sanctity and honour of Joseon."

Their faces were so close, that if he turned just the slightest, their lips would meet.

He turned, and she held her breath. 

His lips were a hair's breath from hers.

They looked into each other's eyes.

She drew back, her heart beating fast, the treacherous colour rising in her cheeks.

He leaned back, and said lazily, "And, now, it is your turn."

She played with the coffee cup, its delicate handle, and did not say anything for a while.

Finally, after a long silence, she spoke.

"My mother lives," she said, haltìngly, and tightened into a rigid line. "My mother lives, and I found that out today from Minister Lee Jung Moon. He knows where she lives. But he will not tell me where she lives, unless I bring the American, Eugene Choi, to meet the King."

He stretched out his hands and gripped them in his own.

"Courage, my lovely," he said, gently. "Be brave, and strong, and hopeful."

"You lived in hope, all these years, all this time, that you would meet her again. Be patient a little longer, and be hopeful; for it is hope that gives us strength, that drives us forward. You will see her soon enough, your beloved mother, and all that hope, all that strength, will not have been in vain. Believe in my words, and trust in hope."

He laid his hand gently upon her, where her heart beat.

"Do you feel that? he asked, his eyes so soft, and so tender, that her heart broke. "Your heart beats, and as long as your heart beats, no matter how long it takes, no matter how far it leads to, hope lives; for where there is life, there is hope."

"Will you be patient, will you be strong, will you trust me, will you be hopeful?"

She nodded, smiling at him through her tears.