When he was alone with the poet, the judge remarked: "I don't see Mrs. Pao and her daughter here."

"Daughter?" Tsung Lee asked with a thick tongue. "Do you seriously sustain the thesis, sir, that such a refined and slender girl can be the daughter of such a vulgar, fat woman?"

"Well," Judge Dee said noncommittally, "the passing of the years sometimes effects astonishing changes." The poet hiccoughed.

"Excuse me!" he said. "They are trying to poison me with their filthy food. It upsets my stomach. Let me tell you, Magistrate, that Mrs. Pao is no lady. The logical conclusion is that White Rose isn't her daughter." Shaking his forefinger at the judge he asked with a conspiratorial air:

"How do you know that the poor girl isn't being forced to become a nun?"

"I don't," the judge replied. "But I can ask her. Where would they be?"

"Probably taking their meal up in their room. Wise precaution too, for a decent girl shouldn't be exposed to the leers of those lewd monks. The fat woman acted wisely, for once!"

"She didn't prevent the girl from being exposed to your gaze, my friend!" Judge Dee remarked.

The poet righted himself, not without difficulty.

"My intentions, sir," he declared ponderously, "are strictly honourable!"

"I am glad to hear that!" the judge said dryly. "By the way, I would have liked to see the crypt you spoke of. But the abbot informed me just now that it can't be opened at this time of the year."

Tsung Lee gave the judge a long look from his bleary eyes. Then he said:

"So that's what he told you, eh?"

"Have you been down there yourself?."

The poet looked quickly at the abbot. Then he said in a low voice: "Not yet, but I am going to! I think the poor fellow was poisoned! Just as they are trying to poison you and me now! Mark my words!"

"You are drunk!" Judge Dee said contemptuously.

"I don't deny that!" Tsung said placidly. "It's the only way to stay sane in this mortuary! But let me assure you, sir, that the old abbot wasn't drunk when he wrote his letter to my father, the last one before he died — I beg your pardon, before he was translated." The judge raised his eyebrows.

"Did the old abbot say in that letter that his life was in danger?" he asked.

Tsung Lee nodded. He drank deeply from his wine beaker.

"Who did he say was threatening him?" Judge Dee asked again.

The poet set down his beaker hard. He shook his head reprovingly and said: "You shouldn't try to tempt me to lay myself open to the charge of bringing a false accusation, Magistrate! I know the law!" Leaning over to the judge he whispered portentously: "Wait till I have collected proof!"

Judge Dee silently caressed his side-whiskers. The youngster was a disgusting specimen, but his father had been a great man, widely respected in both official and scholarly circles. If the old abbot had indeed written such a letter to Dr. Tsung before he died, the matter deserved further investigation. He asked: "what is the present abbot's opinion?"

The poet smiled slyly. Looking at the judge with watery eyes he said:

"You ask him, Magistrate! Perhaps he won't lie to you!" Judge Dee got up. The youngster was very drunk.

When he had returned to his own table, the abbot said bitterly: "I see that Mr. Tsung is drunk again. How different he is from his late father!"

"I gather that Dr. Tsung was a patron of this monastery," the judge remarked. He took a sip from the strong tea that indicated the end of the banquet.

"He was indeed," the abbot replied. "A remarkable family, Your Honour! The grandfather was a coolie in a village down south. He used to sit in the street under the window of the village school, and learned to write by tracing in the sand the characters the teacher wrote on the blackboard. After he had passed the village examination, a few shopkeepers collected the money for letting him pursue his studies, and he came out first in the provincial examinations. He was appointed magistrate, married a girl from an impoverished old family, and later died as a Prefect. Dr. Tsung was his eldest son. He passed all the examinations with honours, married the daughter of a wealthy tea merchant, and ended his career as Provincial Governor. He invested his money wisely, and founded the enormous family fortune."

"It is because every man of talent can rise to the highest functions, regardless of means or social position, that our great Empire will flourish for ever and ever," Judge Dee said with satisfaction. "To come back to your predecessor, what disease did he die of?"

The abbot put down his cup. He replied slowly: "His Holiness Jade Mirror did not die of a disease. He was translated; that is he chose to leave us because he felt that he had reached the limit set for his stay on earth. He departed for the Isles of the Blest in good health and in full possession of his mental powers. A most remarkable and awe-inspiring miracle that left a lasting impression on all of us who had the privilege of witnessing it."

"It certainly was a memorable experience, Dee!" Sun Ming added. "I was present at it, you know. The abbot summoned all the elders and, sitting on his high seat, delivered an inspired sermon of nearly two hours. Then he folded his arms, closed his eyes and passed away."

Judge Dee nodded. The dissolute youngster had evidently been indulging in drunken fantasies. Or perhaps he was repeating false rumours. He said: "Such a miracle is liable to excite the envy of other sects. One could imagine that the black-robed Buddhist crowd would use it for spreading malicious rumors."

"I certainly wouldn't put it past them!" the abbot said.

"Anyway," Judge Dee resumed, "if evil-minded persons ever made slanderous allegations, an autopsy would soon prove them unfounded. Signs of violence can be detected, even on an embalmed body."

"Let's hope that it'll never come to that!" Sun said cheerfully. "Well, it's time I returned to my studies." Getting up he added to the judge: "I'll first show you that picture of the old abbot's cat, though! It's a relic of this temple, Dee!"

The judge suppressed a sigh. He thanked the abbot for the lavish entertainment, then followed Sun to the exit. While passing the actors' table he said quickly to Tao Gan:

"Wait for me in the portal here! I'll be back soon."

Master Sun walked with the judge through the side-corridor, and took him to the west hall of the temple.

Against the back wall stood a simple altar with four burning candles. Sun lifted one of them and let its light fall on a medium-sized scroll-painting suspended on the wall, mounted with a frame of antique brocade. It was a picture of a long-haired grey cat, lying on the edge of a table of carved ebony. Next to it was a woolen ball, behind it a bronze bowl with a piece of rock of interesting shape, and a few bamboos.

"That was the abbot's favourite cat, you know!" Sun explained in a low voice. "The old man painted it countless times. It's rather good, isn't it?"

Judge Dee thought it was very mediocre amateur's work, but he understood that its value lay in its association with the holy man. The side hall was very cold, just as he had feared. "A remarkable picture!" he said politely.

"It was the last picture he did," Sun said. "He painted it up in his room, on the afternoon of the day he died. The cat refused to eat and died a few days later. And then to think that people say that cats don't attach themselves to their masters! I advise you now to have a look at the statues of the Taoist Triad in the main hall; they are more than ten feet high — the work of a famous sculptor. I'll be off now. I hope to see you tomorrow morning before you leave."

Scroll-painting of the Old Abbot's Cat

Judge Dee respectfully conducted him to the gate of the front hall, then he went back to the refectory. Since the statues had been there for two hundred years, they would be standing there a little longer, he presumed. He could see them when he revisited the temple at some later date.