# The Wind That Tramps the World (collection)/The Inverted House

The Inverted House
The house of Yuan Shi Kai in Canton was perhaps one of the quaintest, queerest houses that China has ever known. It stood surrounded by a great garden near the Pearl River. There was nothing distinctive about the garden. It was cultivated in the most sketchy manner. At times the coolies of Yuan Shi Kai worked impressively to make it beautiful. Other times there were when during the course of many moons it was utterly neglected.
The house itself was even less imposing than the garden. It was built only one story above the ground, a gray and white house with a cherry-red roof. But below the ground it went many stories. Yuan Shi Kai believed that men should look to the earth for strength even as trees and flowers and vines wend their creeping roots through the lush warm soil.
"Man was created from dust," he meditated, "therefore all strength comes from the dust."
In Canton little was known about Yuan Shi Kai. He was wealthy apparently for there were many men in his employ, yet of his actual business interests no one could find a trace. He was not a rice or tea merchant, nor was he a shopkeeper, nor did he deal in ​fragile porcelain. The source of his income was a mystery though no more of a mystery than Yuan Shi Kai himself.
In appearance he was a polished gentleman. Well-dressed, refined, courteous. His handsome yellow face always bore a bland, affable expression. He was a close friend to nobody. Nor were there any who numbered him as an enemy. He was an enigma. He wandered but little throughout the crowded alleys of Canton. Content was he to remain sequestered in his peculiar house which burrowed into the ground like a great mole.
It was at the tea-house of Wong Foo in one of the narrowest alleys of Canton that Ras Orla, the renowned explorer, first heard of the odd house of Yuan Shi Kai. Wong Foo told him of it in a casual way and Ras Orla was sufficiently acquainted with Chinese ways not to show too much interest. Nevertheless he decided that he would visit the Inverted House. For years he had roamed about the world. He had traveled much in Persia, in India, in Tibet and no country interested him as much as old China, China whose origin is lost in the mist of the ages, China from whence came banknotes, block-printing, the compass, gunpowder and porcelain.
Ras Orla was not interested greatly in the things that interested most explorers. The source of a river, the height of a mountain-peak or the average rainfall in the Gobi Desert mattered little to him. His interest ​was mostly with quaint houses, quaint treasures, quaint people. That is why reference to Yuan Shi Kai and his house aroused his enthusiasm.
Through Wong Foo he contrived to get audience with Yuan Shi Kai. It was on a morning when the peach-blossoms were fragrant in the garden that Ras Orla arrived at the Inverted House. Yuan Shi Kai welcomed him royally. He ordered tea to be brought into the Lacquer Room in which he always received his guests.
"You are welcome for as long as you care to grace my poor house with your presence," he said cordially. "It pleases me that you cared sufficiently to turn from the road upon which you were walking to enter my humble gate."
Ras Orla accepted the cup which Yuan Shi Kai extended to him. It was as fragile as a lotus blossom. The tea was green. He lifted it slowly to his lips and slowly sipped the aromatic beverage.
"Would I be presuming," he murmured, "if I expressed my appreciation of this superb beverage?"
"Not in the slightest," was the reply. "In fact I should be pleased to hear your opinion."
"It is like unto nothing I have ever tasted," declared Ras Orla fervently. "What secret is hidden in this cup?"
Yuan Shi Kai smiled. He seemed well pleased.
"I am gratified," he said, "that you have derived pleasure from it. It is the same tea which my father's ​father learned to brew. He was a tea-master and you must know that a tea-master is the greatest of all artists, greater than a painter, greater than an etcher, greater than a sculptor or a spinner of fine gold. Yet a tea-master may do any of these things. The fact that he is a tea-master refines his work. It makes it immortal. No tea-master would ever dream of setting to work at his craft without first being steeped in the aroma of tea. My father's father was a poet. His songs are still echoed by yellow men throughout the length and breadth of China. Truly I am fortunate in being so nobly ancestored."
As he spoke he refilled the lotus-like cups.
Ras Orla was entranced by his host's conversation. Yuan Shi Kai was a man of rare education. He had traveled much for there were few subjects that Ras Orla could mention upon which he was not able to converse fluently. He spoke English perfectly, almost without the slightest trace of accent. He did not mention where he had learned to do so nor did Ras Orla ask him for he sensed that this was one of the questions which his host did not wish to answer.
When naught but the dregs of the tea remained, Yuan Shi Kai rose to his feet.
"Come," said he, "I will show you through my house for I know that it is the house that has brought you here. There is scant credit due me for your presence. But enough. I think you will not be disappointed. Usually a man lives in a house but in this case the ​house lives in me. I have given it personality. I have given it life. It has been builded into the ground and it has taken root. The house of Yuan Shi Kai shall go on through the ages endlessly like an old banyan tree or a gnarled, knotted oak whose fibre is stronger than bars of iron."
He led the way out into the great hall and Ras Orla followed him. He was immensely impressed. His curiosity was at drum-pitch. The floors of the corridors were carpeted in rich rugs, rugs as soft as the loam of a pine forest. The air was heavy with incense. Here and there about the halls were tables on which stood carved tigers and quaintly painted vases disposed with charming negligence. At intervals there were lanterns lighted, yellow and blue, green and rich purple. They preserved a wondrous color-harmony that never clashed. There were no windows in the winding halls, for Chinamen care little for fresh air. Given in its place warm fragrance, they are satisfied.
At the end of one of the corridors was a wide staircase. Down this Yuan Shi Kai led the way. The floor below was even more gorgeous than that above. At least the halls were. They were wider. The vases, the carved statues, the pearl inlaid tables, the fine tapestries were of greater value. Even the perfume on the air was slightly more exquisite.
It would have been delightful to have lingered among the vases and tapestries but Yuan Shi Kai was impatient. He wished to keep on. So together they ​descended another long flight of marble stairs to the floor below. Ras Orla gasped at the beauty of it. Everything was of a pungent glowing green, a brilliant green and yet there were no lanterns visible. The floor was lighted by hidden lamps. The soft glow was from reflection. The floor and ceiling were both of green, green that is the life of the floral world, a soft, restful green. For of all colors green is the most comforting.
Throughout the halls there seemed to be a glowing greenish mist, a mist of color, a fog of loveliness. It was like being out in green pastures on a night in summer, a night heavy with dew and the droning of countless crickets.
"This," murmured Yuan Shi Kai, "is the floor of flowers, perhaps the loveliest in the house. Here are countless magnificent blossoms that grow without sunlight. Scientists are wrong who state that flowers get their color and perfume from the sun, rather it is the sun that derives its glory from the flowers. It sucks up beauty even as clouds suck up moisture from the ground. Here I will show you sweet jasmine, oleanders, wistaria, chrysanthemums and lotuses of a beauty so rare that you cannot credit their existence. The greatest thing in all the world is flower-life, greater than the life of birds or beasts or men for flowers have hearts and souls and the power to love. They speak and converse with one another. Their modes of speech are sweet perfumes. Fragrance is the highest form of expression."
​Yuan Shi Kai paused and gazed languidly about him at the beauty which his splendid mind had caused to materialize. But presently he continued speaking in the same soft tone.
"Flowers," he said, "are much like beautiful women. They can appreciate the wondrous things of life. They recoil at the horrible and grewsome. They are influenced by the surroundings in which they grow and are capable of deep affection for one another. Think not that I am wandering on the brink of madness for scientists have proven all of these things. In fact they have even witnessed the heart-beat of a flower. Bees are attracted to blue flowers and would never approach red roses, for they are color-blind where red is concerned, were it not for the exotic perfume breathed forth by the flower which acts on the bee like a drug, like a web that draws him to it against his will. Science is only in its infancy. It cannot be great until it recognizes and admits the spiritual in nature. Come I will show you flowers that are truly divine."
Thus speaking he led the way down that wondrous hall, though because of the green radiance it appeared to be a hall no longer. It lacked estimable dimensions, it seemed to go onward in limitless sway. Occasionally the brightness intensified and they came upon a lovely flower growing in that lush warm atmosphere. There were myriads of flowers, some species that Ras Orla had never seen before, besides which were many lovely blooms that are peculiar to China such as peonies, ​lotuses and chrysanthemums. But it was the fragile orchids that enthralled Ras Orla most. Some were purple with black dots in the petals, others were lily-white, blue, gray and pink, startling in the vividness of their coloring. One gorgeous flower was bright yellow, yellow as gold, yellow as the sun, yellow as the cheek of an exquisite China girl. It cast off a perfume of sheer enticement. Even the wondrous blue poppies could not compare with it in alluring fragrance. That hall was drenched in beauty, beauty that was as rich, soft, cool and fragrant as the morning dew.
Yuan Shi Kai's face was glowing. His eyes glittered and he staggered somewhat as he walked as though he were drunk from the essence and magnificence of the flowers.
"Is there any sight of earth more dazzling than this?" gasped Ras Orla.
"Only one other," replied Yuan Shi Kai gravely. "One other there is that sends even the glory of the orchids into eclipse. Come," he ended abruptly, "come with me into the Jade Room and I will tell you a story which will perhaps amaze you. It will amaze you because it is true. The real is always less believable than the imagined."
As he spoke he opened a hidden door which owing to the green maze Ras Orla had not even perceived. The next moment they were in a room of jewels, a room wherein were diamonds and pearls, sapphires, jades, tourmalines, amethysts, lapis lazuli and black ​opals. They lay carelessly about on ebony tables as though they were of little value."
"The jades," declared Yuan Shi Kai, "are by far the best in my collection, not because of their intrinsic value but because of the variance of the countless specimens. I have jadeites and nephrites in a hundred different tones of color. Here are snow-white jades and jades that are blacker than tropic night, jades with sepia and orange veins like unto marble, rare gray jades, and yellow-ochre jades, besides jades in sixty shades of green. I have green jades to match the leaves of every tree. Some are far more gorgeous than emeralds. Nor are jades the only things that I possess in profusion. Here are opals that contain more fire than the stars, opals that match the rainbow in the softness of their colors. However I did not bring you here to view my gems but for a far more important purpose. But come, let us rest as we talk."
As Ras Orla sank onto a divan, he breathed softly of the oddly perfumed air.
"The breath of the flowers even penetrates unto here," he mused.
"That is not true," replied Yuan Shi Kai slowly. "The fragrance that arrests your attention is the fragrance of jewels. Do not smile at the term for I assure you the ancients were aware that jewels exhale a fragrance as surely as flowers though in a far milder form. For centuries certain jewels have been described for certain ailments. Was there not a famous Egyptian who ​caused pearls to be dissolved in the wine whereof she drank? Jewels that glow like diamonds make the wearer glow by reflection. It is an acknowledged fact that pearls are affected by the health of the person around whose neck they are clasped. It is a big subject and I have merely touched upon it. Sufficient it is to say that the fragrance in this room is caused entirely by jewels and much of it by my lovely collection of jades."
As he spoke he struck his hands together and a servant entered carrying goblets as green as rock-moss.
"This," declared Yuan Shi Kai, "is a wine made entirely of the nectar of flowers. One glass is all that any man may drink. Two glasses might prove fatal. They would bring on a surge of ecstasy within him that would swamp his heart. Beyond two, no man could live."
Ras Orla sipped slowly of the cool soft liquid. It was sweeter than honey and as he drank it seemed that all the trivialities of life vanished, the gloomy, the melancholy and the unhappy. He wanted to shout, to dance. To go out in the fields and laugh at the yellow moon, the yellow moon that was like a round disk of glowing amber. But he refrained from doing any of these things. Yuan Shi Kai had something to tell him, something unusual or else he would not have brought him to the Jade Room of shimmering, dazzling jewels.
"My house," murmured Yuan Shi Kai, "is a dwelling place of much beauty but far more beautiful than ​anything which you have yet beheld is the rare beauty of Liane, my gorgeous, perfect little flower-girl. I have watched her grow from infancy. I have tended and nurtured her as I have the rarest of my orchids. Never since childhood has she been out of the flower-realms which lie in the lower stories of my house. Her world has been a world of peonies and lotuses, of mimosa and oleanders, of cherry-blossoms and pink orchids. Nothing sordid has she ever heard. The flowers are her friends. She talks to them, understands their every wish. Her existence is one of complete happiness. How she came into my house is simple to relate. I found her lying on a mountain-top in the rugged ranges that lie west of Pekin. She was a tiny baby, not much bigger than a flower-bud. Her chubby thumb was sticking in her mouth and she was cooing at the moon. Evidently she had been abandoned by some family who could not stand the disgrace of the birth of a girl baby. I was quite taken by the beauty of the child and impulsively I decided to keep her always. I lifted her up in my arms and soothed her to sleep. When I returned to Canton I brought the baby with me to this great house that grows into the ground like a mighty tree. Since that day she has remained always in these realms of flowers. As I have said I have nurtured her, guarded her against all the evils and sordidness of life until today she is like a lovely full-blossomed rose. She draws life from the flowers even as does the sun. I ​have brought you here to tell you this before permitting you to view Liane, my gorgeous little flower girl."
Ras Orla was very alert. The nectar-wine had excited him. He wished romance and adventure. Rare beauty was a joy to contemplate but he knew the Chinese mind and so he did not appear over-anxious. He made no comment, merely sat and waited.
Yuan Shi Kai rose to his feet. "We will go back into the floral halls," he murmured.
And now as they walked through the pungent green haze, the fragrance seemed to intensify. It intoxicated to madness. It was like naught but a beautiful dream, to be treasured and remembered. Back in the soft green mist, Yuan Shi Kai called in a voice of awe, "Liane, little Liane!"
And then she came to them, came like the pink glow of the dawn, like a flower that had suddenly come to life. She was attired in robes of soft pink silk, robes that resembled rose or orchid petals. Her hair was golden which added to her flowerlike appearance. A China girl with golden hair! It could not be. The straight line of her nose, the soft warm curve of her lips, the deep blue of her eyes canopied by lashes of wondrous length, there was nothing Oriental about her in appearance. How could she have been a child of China?
Yuan Shi Kai noticed Ras Orla's surprise.
"Perhaps," he murmured, "she is not an Earth Child at all but a child of the yellow moon. It was on a ​wondrous summer day when I found her and her golden hair is like the gold of the sun. Who knows but what she is a lovely spirit, a spirit of a full-blossomed rose?"
Slowly she came toward them. Yuan Shi Kai introduced her to Ras Orla. She put out a small, shell-like hand and as Ras Orla grasped it his senses tingled. It was like drinking again of the floral-wine. Her beauty was devastating. It made him forget all else on earth.
"Her playmates have always been flowers," continued Yuan Shi Kai. "She understands the language of wistaria and peach-blossoms. The loveliest singer in the flower kingdom is the rose. Its music is reflected in its fragrance. The most passionate is the orchid, though blue-poppies, too, are extreme in their desires. Lilies are sad. They are tender flowers who sacrifice themselves for the happiness of others."
That night Ras Orla remained in the house of Yuan Shi Kai. His host did not wish him to leave, nor was he able to drag himself away. The even balance of his life had been ruined. Memory of the beauty and grace of the slender Liane would forever intrude itself upon his consciousness. Without her he could not go on. Ordinarily he was the most logical of individuals. He had traveled much, he had seen strange sights and he had schooled himself not to be affected by them. But this strange inverted house that grew into the ground like the roots of a great oak tree was more than any force of will could combat. In the privacy of the chamber on the floor above the ground which had been ​assigned to him, he strode up and down the room like an imprisoned animal. In the morning he would leave the house of Yuan Shi Kai. He would go on his way, to take up once more the explorations which were his life's work. Up till that moment he had thrilled to new dawns, new sights, new adventures, new discoveries but now there would be dawn no longer. Without Liane whom he had seen only for a little while there would be no tomorrow worth the effort to anticipate. His cosmos was in ruins.
He walked to the window, swept aside the tapestries and gazed off over the drowsy country. A pale yellow moon stood out clear-cut in the sky. When the moon had set, so would pass the last thread of his happiness. Then abruptly a great decision came to him, a rather wild decision but one that carried with it his sole hope for happiness. He would steal the lovely Liane, carry her off while the unsuspecting Yuan Shi Kai slept. He had not a single qualm of conscience. His love blotted out all sense of right and wrong. He must possess that flower-girl, naught else mattered.
Silently he stepped out into the dim-lit hall. He wore no shoes and the pit-pat of his feet was stilled. Slowly he made his way down the corridor which seemed endless. Nowhere was there a sign of life. Yuan Shi Kai was evidently sleeping, so naturally none of the servants were awake. At last Ras Orla came to the marble staircase. He crept cautiously down to the floor of tapestries and vases, then on down the second flight to ​the hall of green glimmering mist. Softly he called, "Liane, little Liane!" And then she came to him still in her clinging garments that were like rose-petals. Her glowing hair was more golden than ever, her lips sweeter and a richer red. He took her into his arms.
"Come with me," he whispered. "Together we will find all the happiness that life affords."
His sole fear had been that Liane had not been touched by the divine fire of love. But now this fear was banished for she lifted her lovely face to his and kissed his lips. It was like crushing his mouth to a dew-drenched flower. While Liane departed to fetch her cloak, Ras Orla could hardly wait so acute was his fear that even now their flight might be intercepted. But presently she returned. She wore a long green cape that was like the calyx of a flower. Then soundlessly they mounted the stairs to the single story which lay above the ground. Once in the distance a dog barked dismally. Ras Orla paused. His heart was beating madly. But the moment passed and no one in the house stirred. A few moments later they were in the garden and even there silence reigned. Not a cricket murmured, not a tree trembled.
Ras Orla carried Liane to a small island in the Pearl River which was owned by old Mee Num, a quaint writer of legends who had been his friend for years. The old man dwelt on the quiet little island so near to the great city yet not of it in order that his musings might not be disturbed. The ancient wife of Mee Num ​took the lovely Liane at once to her heart. Unlike the majority of Chinese women, she had never had any children and it was rapture for her to be hostess to this lovely flower-girl. In due course, after Liane had become used to living above the ground, Ras Orla intended to marry her. He was rather worried about what effect the dawn would have upon her. It would be the first sunrise she had ever witnessed during the period of her remembrance. But his fears were baseless. The dawn made little impression upon her. She turned from it to view the lovely flowers that grew about the quaint house of Mee Num. After all, Ras Orla reflected, nothing above the ground could compare to those fragrant halls of the Inverted House which glowed in a soft green haze.
Of the days that followed much might be written. Ras Orla lived each moment to the full. It was like dwelling in a golden dream. And yet there was a feeling of foreboding hovering over the island. Despite her evident happiness Liane was wilting. The golden glow was dying from her hair, the rich redness from her lips, her cheeks were becoming wan. She was like a beautiful rose that had been plucked and was wilting, like a flower that had been torn from its garden home. He knew that unless something happened quickly she would fade utterly. He was in a quandary. All the dreams which he was building were floating off into nothingness.
And then one day Yuan Shi Kai came to the island. ​He was very courteous and affable. He walked up the beach smiling and in the best of spirits. There was no suggestion of anger in his voice.
"The flowers," he explained, "told me where you were. It was the first time that I was able to understand their language though my little flower-girl has always been able to interpret their voices. They told me that Liane was on this island, that she was in grave danger, that she was dying. So I have come to take her home again. She cannot live without her beloved flower-friends, the flowers with whom she has always romped and played. She is homesick, wilting, plunging toward death. I do not blame you for stealing her. Had you not done so you would have been a fool. But I know you do not wish to sacrifice her life to your happiness."
Ras Orla bowed his head. He was crushed. The light of his life had burned out. He was in darkness, the most wretched man in the universe but he could not protest. He knew Yuan Shi Kai was speaking the truth.
Half an hour later he bade good-bye to Liane and stood on the beach as the tiny boat of Yuan Shi Kai drifted slowly off toward the sun. Then he returned to the little house of Mee Num. He crouched down at the doorway. Life was futile. It was the end. There was now no use for further effort. Hours passed and still he crouched by the door. Old Mee Num came and summoned him to the evening meal but he made no response. His thoughts were far away, in Canton with ​the wondrous Liane, in the green halls of soft fragrance. Until far into the night he still sat immobile by the door, like a statue, like a mummy, like a tree that had ceased to live.
The following few days were like a hideous dream. Ras Orla roamed about the island in a daze, like a man whose soul has been burned out. He neither ate nor slept although there were periods that verged on unconsciousness, periods of delirium when he imagined Liane was calling to him. Old Mee Num followed him about the island, keeping at sufficient distance so as not to intrude but at the same time watching him faithfully. He was very sad. He hated a story with an unhappy ending whether in a book or in life. At last he summoned up sufficient courage to speak to Ras Orla.
"Why continue to suffer?" he asked. "Why do you not go once more to the Inverted House?"
At the words of Mee Num, Ras Orla seemed to arouse from his lethargy. Why should he not? He had nothing to lose if he were turned away from the house. For having lost Liane, no other catastrophe could matter. So he returned to Canton, to the strange house in the neglected garden. Yuan Shi Kai greeted him with a warmth that was too sincere to have been assumed.
"I am glad you have come back," he murmured, "for Liane has been pining for you even as on the island she pined for her flowers. You must never leave ​her again. Her happiness is greater than any other consideration of my life. Go down the marble stairs. You will find her waiting."
Later Yuan Shi Kai wandered down to the Jade Room, to the room of wondrous pearls and fragrant jewels. He struck his hands together and a servant brought him a goblet of precious flower-wine. He had never drank more than one goblet in a single day. He had always feared to drink two. It would have been dangerous. After all it was good that he was somewhat of a fatalist. He smiled softly as he carelessly fingered a bit of gray-green jade. Before proceeding to drink he ordered a second and a third goblet of the wine.