# Doctor Nikola (Windsor Magazine, 1896)/Chapter 15

Extracted from Windsor Magazine, Vol.4 1896 July, pp. 15–19.

### CHAPTER XV.
#### HOW NIKOLA WAS INSTALLED.

As soon as I woke next morning I went into Nikola's room. To my surprise he was not there. Nor did he put in an appearance for nearly an hour. When he did I could see that he was completely exhausted, though he tried hard not to show it.
“What have you been doing?” I asked, meeting him on the threshold with a question.
“Qualifying myself for my position by inquiring into more mysteries,” he answered. “Bruce, if you could have seen all that I have done since midnight to-night I verily believe it would be impossible for you ever to be a happy man again. When I tell you that what I have witnessed has even frightened me, you will realise something of what I mean.”
“What have you seen?”
“I have been shown the mummified bodies of men who died nearly a thousand years ago endowed with life, so that they walked and moved their limbs like human beings; I have watched the whole fabric of this mountain sway like a pendulum; I have looked in through the gates of hell itself, and I have seen other things, such awful things that I dare not describe them even to you.”
“And you were not tempted to draw back?”
“Only once,” answered Nikola candidly. “For nearly a minute, I will confess, I hesitated, but eventually I forced myself to go on. That once accomplished, the rest was easy. But I must not stay talking here. To-day is going to be a big day with us. I shall go and lie down to recoup my energies. Call me if I am wanted, but otherwise do not disturb me.”
He went in to the inner room, laid himself down upon the bed, and for nearly two hours slept as peacefully as a little child. The morning meal was served soon after sunrise, but I did not wake him for it; indeed it was not until nearly midday that he made his appearance again. When he did we discussed our position more fully, weighed the pros and cons more carefully, and speculated still further as to what the result of our attempt would be. Somehow a vague feeling of impending disaster had taken possession of me. I could not rid myself of the belief that before the day was over we should find our success in some way reversed. I told Nikola as much, but he only laughed, and uttered his usual reply to the effect that, disaster or no disaster, he was not going to give in, but would go through with it to the bitter end, whatever the upshot might be.
About two o'clock in the afternoon a dwarf put in an appearance and intimated that his presence was required in the great hall. He immediately left the cell and remained away until nearly dusk. When he returned he looked more like a ghost than a living man, but even then, tired as he undoubtedly was, his iron will would not acknowledge such a thing as fatigue. Without vouchsafing me a word he passed into the inner room, to occupy himself there until nearly eight o'clock making notes and writing up a concise account of all that he had seen. I sat on my bed watching his light and feeling about as miserable as it would be possible for a man to be. Why I should have been so depressed I could not say. But it was certain that everything served to bring back to me my present position. I thought of my old English school, and wondered whether, if I had been, told then what was to happen to me in later life I should have believed it or not. I thought of Gladys, my pretty sweetheart, and wondered if I should ever see her again; and I was just in the act of drawing the locket she had given me from beneath my robe when my ear caught the sound of a footstep on the stones outside. Next moment the same uncanny dwarf who had summoned us on the previous evening made his appearance. Without a word he entered and pointed to the door of the inner room. I took the action to mean that those in authority wished Nikola to come to them, and went in and told him so. He immediately put away his paper and pencil and signed to me to leave his room ahead of him. the dwarf preceded us, I followed next, and Nikola came behind me. In this fashion we made our way up one corridor and down another, ascended and descended innumerable stairs, and at last reached the tunnel of the great cave, where we had passed through such adventures on the preceding night. On this occasion the door was guarded by fully a dozen monks, who formed into two lines to let us pass through.
If the cave had been bare of ornament when we visited it the previous night it was now altogether different. Hundreds of torches flamed from brackets upon the wails, throw their ruddy glare upon the wails and ceiling, and sparkled like a million diamonds in the stalactites dependent from the roof.
At the further end of the great cavern was a large and beautifully decorated triple throne, and opposite it, but half way down the hall, a smaller dais covered with a rich crimson cloth bordered with heavy bullion fringe. As we entered we were greeted with the same mysterious music which we had heard on the day of our arrival. It grew louder and louder until we reached the dais, and then, just as Nikola took up his place at the front and I mine a little behind him, began to die slowly away again. When it had quite done so the great bell in the roof above our heads struck three. The noise it made was almost deafening. It seemed to fill the entire cave, then, like the music above mentioned, to die slowly away again. Once more it repeated the same number of strokes, and once more the sound died away. As it did so a curtain at the far end was drawn back and the monks commenced to file slowly in from either side, just as they had done at the first service after our arrival. There must have been nearly four hundred of them; they were all dressed in black and all wore the same peculiar head covering I have described elsewhere.
When they had taken up their places on either side of the dais upon which we stood, the curtain which covered the doorway through which I had followed Nikola down into the subterranean chamber the night before was drawn aside and another procession entered. First came the dwarfs, to the number of thirty, each carrying a lighted torch in his hand, after them nearly a hundred monks dressed in white, swinging censers, then a dozen gray-bearded priests in black, after which the two men who were the heads of this extraordinary sect.
Reaching the throne the procession divided itself into two, each half taking up its position in the form of a semi-circle on either side. The two heads seated themselves beneath the canopy, and exactly at the moment of their doing so the great bell boomed forth again. As its echo died away all the monks who had hitherto been kneeling rose to their feet and with one accord took up the hymn of their sect. Though the music and words were barbaric in the extreme there was something about the effect produced that stirred the heart beyond description. The hymn ceased as suddenly as it had begun, and then, from among the white robed monks beside the throne, a man stepped forth with a paper in his hand. In a loud voice he proclaimed the fact that it had pleased the two Great Ones of the mountains to fill the vacancy which had so long existed in the triumvirate. For that reason they had summoned to their presence a man who bore a reputation for wisdom and holiness second to none. Him they now saw before them. He had rendered good service to the society, he had proved himself a just man, and now it only remained for him to state whether he was willing to take upon himself the great responsibilities of the office to which he had been called. Having given utterance to all this the man retired to his place again. Then four of the monks, two from either side of the throne, walked slowly down the aisle towards Nikola, and bidding him follow them, escorted him in procession to the room behind the curtain. While he was absent from the cave no one moved or spoke.
At the end of about ten minutes the small procession filed out again, Nikola coming last. He was now attired in all the grand robes of his office. His tall spare form became them wonderfully well, and when he once more stood upon the dais before me I could not help thinking I had never in my life seen a more imposing figure.
Once more the great bell tolled out, and when the sound had ceased the man who had first spoken stepped forward and in a loud voice bade it be known that the ex-priest of Hankow was prepared to take upon himself the duties and responsibilities of his office. As he retired to his place again two monks came forward and escorted Nikola up the centre aisle towards the triple throne. Arriving at the foot the two Great Ones threw off the veils they had hitherto been wearing, and came down to meet him. Having each given a hand, they were about to escort him to his place when there was a commotion at the end of the hall.
In a flash, though so far the sound only consisted of excited whispering, all my forebodings rushed back upon me, and my heart seemed to stand still. The chief of the Three dropped Nikola's hand and, turning to one of the monks beside him, bade him go down the hall and discover what this unseemly interruption might mean. The man went, to presently return with a message that there was a stranger in the monastery who craved immediate speech with the Two.
He was at once told to enter, and in a few minutes a travel-stained, soiled and bedraggled Chinaman made his appearance and humbly approached the throne. His four followers remained clustered round the door at the farther end.
“Who are you, and what want you here?” asked the old man in a voice that rang like a trumpet call. “Think you that you will be permitted to disturb us in this unseemly fashion?”
“I humbly sue for pardon. But I have good reason, O my father!” returned the man, with a reverence that nearly touched the ground.
“Let us hear it then, and be speedy. What is your name, and whence come you?”
“I am the chief priest of the temple of Hankow, and I come for justice!” said the man, and as he said it a great murmur of astonishment ran through the hall. I saw Nikola step back a pace and then stand quite still. If it were the truth this man was telling we were lost beyond hope of redemption.
“Thou foolish man to bring so false a story here!” said the elder of the two. “Know ye not that the priest of Hankow stands before you?”
“It is false!” said the man. “I come to warn you that that man is an impostor. He is no priest but a foreign devil who captured me and sent me out of the way while he took my place.”
“Then how did you get here?” asked the chief of the sect.
“I escaped,” said the man, “from where he hid me, and made my way to Tientsin, thence to Pekin and so on here.”
“O my father!” said Nikola, just as quietly as if nothing unusual were happening, “will you allow such a cunningly devised tale to do me evil in your eyes? Did I not bring with me a letter from the high priest of the Llamaserai, making known to you that I was he whom you expected? Will you then put me to shame before the world?
The old man did not answer.
“I too have a letter from the high priest,” said the new arrival eagerly. Whereupon he produced a document and handed it to the second of the two.
“Peace! peace! We will retire and consider upon this matter,” said the old man. Then turning to the monks beside him he said sternly: “See that neither of these men escape.” Then with his colleague he retired to the inner room, out of which they had appeared at the beginning of the ceremonial.
In perfect silence we awaited their return, and during the time I was confirmed in a curious fact that I had remarked once or twice before. Though all day I had been dreading the approach of some catastrophe, yet when it came, and I had to look it fairly in the face, all my fears seemed to vanish. My nervousness left me like a discarded cloak, and so certain seemed our fate that I found I could await it with almost a smile.
At the end of about twenty minutes there was a stir near the door and presently the two returned from the hall and mounted their thrones. It was the old man who spoke.
“We have considered the letters,” he said, “and in our wisdom we have concluded that it would be unwise to come to a hasty decision. This matter must be further inquired into.” Then turning to Nikola, he continued: “Take off those vestments. If you are innocent they shall be restored to you and you shall wear them with honour to yourself and the respect of all our order; but if you be guilty, prepare for death, for no human soul shall save you.”
Nikola immediately divested himself of his gorgeous robes and handed them to the monks who stood ready to receive them.
“You will now,” said the old man, “be conducted back to the cells you have hitherto occupied. To-night at a later hour this matter will be more fully inquired into.”
Nikola bowed with his peculiar grace and then came back to where I stood, after which, escorted by monks, we returned to our room and were left alone, not however before we had noted the fact that armed guards were placed at the gate at the top of the steps leading into the main corridor.
When I had made sure that no one was near enough to eavesdrop I went into Nikola's room expecting to find him cast down by the failure of his scheme. I was going to offer him my condolences, but he stopped me by holding up his hand.
“Of course,” he said, “I regret exceedingly that our adventure should have ended like this. We must not repine however, for we have the satisfaction of knowing that we played our cards like men. We have lost on the odd trick, that is all.”
“And what is the upshot of it all to be?”
“Very simple, I should say. If we don't find a way to escape we shall pay the penalty of our rashness with our lives. I don't know that I mind so much for myself, though I should very much like to put into practice a few of the things I have learnt here; but I certainly do regret it for your sake.”
“That is very good of you.”
“Oh, make no mistake, I am thinking of that poor little girl in Pekin who believes so implicitly in you.”
“For heaven's sake don't speak of her or I shall turn coward! Are you certain that there is no means of escape?”
“To be frank with you I do not see one. You may be sure however I shall use all my ingenuity to-night to make my case good, though I have no hope that I shall be successful This man you see holds all the cards, and we are playing a love hand against the bank. But there, I suppose it is no use thinking about the matter until after the trial to-night.”
The hours wore slowly on and every moment I expected to hear the tramp of feet upon the stones outside summoning us to the investigation. They came at last. Two monks entered my room and bade me fetch my master. When I had done so we were marched in single file up the stairs and along the corridor to a higher level instead of descending as on previous occasions.
Arriving on a broad landing we were received by an armed guard of monks. One of them beckoned us to follow him and in response we passed through a doorway and entered a large room at the end of which two people were seated at a table; behind them and on either side were rows of monks, and between guards at the opposite end of the table the man who had brought the accusation.
At a signal from a monk, who was evidently in command of the guard, I was separated from Nikola, and then the trial commenced.
First the new-comer recited his tale. He described how in the village of Tsan-Chu he had been met and betrayed by two men who, having secured his person, had carried him out to sea and imprisoned him aboard a junk. His first captors, it was understood, were Englishmen, but he was finally delivered into the care of a Chinaman, who had conveyed him to Along Bay. From this place he managed to effect his escape, and after great personal hardship reached Tientsin. On arrival there he made inquiries which induced him to push on to Pekin. Making his way to the Llamaserai, and being able to convince the high priest of his indentity, he had learned to his astonishment that he was being impersonated, and that the man who was filling his place had preceded him to Thibet. On the strength of this discovery he obtained men and donkeys and pushed on to the monastery as fast as he could travel.
When he had finished speaking he was closely questioned by both of the great men, but his testimony was sound and could not be shaken. Then his attendants were called up and gave their evidence, after which Nikola was invited to make his case good.
He accepted the invitation with alacrity and reviewing all that his rival had said, pointed out the manifest absurdities with which it abounded, ridiculed what he called its inconsistency, implored his judges not to be led away by an artfully contrived tale, and brought his remarks to a conclusion by stating, what was perfectly true, though hardly in the manner he intended, that he had no doubt at all as to their decision. A more masterly speech it would have been difficult to imagine. His keen instinct had detected the one weak spot in his enemy's story and his brilliant oratory helped him to make the most of it. His points told, and to my astonishment I saw that he had already influenced his judges in his favour. If only we could go on as we had begun we might yet come successfully out of the affair. But we were reckoning without our host.
“Since you say you are the priest of the temple of Hankow,” said the younger of the two great men, addressing Nikola, “it is certain that you must be well acquainted with the temple. In the first hall is a tablet presented by a Taotai of the province; what is the inscription on it?”
“Let the gods decide what is best for man,” said Nikola without hesitation.
I saw that the real priest was surprised beyond measure at this ready answer. Nikola had evidently hit the mark, but how he had managed it was more than I could tell.
“And upon the steps that lead up to it what is carved?”
“Let peace be with all men!” said Nikola, again without stopping.
The judge turned to the other man.
“There is nothing there,” he said; and my heart went down like lead.
“Now I know,” said the old man, turning to Nikola, “that you are not what you pretend. There are no steps, therefore there can be nothing written upon them.
Then turning to the guards about him he said—
“Convey these men back to the room whence they came. See that they be well guarded, and at daybreak to-morrow morning let them be hurled from the precipice down into the valley below.”
Nikola bowed but said never a word. Then escorted by our guards we returned to our room. When we had arrived there and the monks had left us and taken up their places at the top of the steps outside, I sat myself down on my bed and covered my face with my hands. So this was what it had all come to. It was for this I had met Nikola in Shanghai, and for this that we had braved so many dangers.
(To be continued.)