Page:Harold Lamb--Marching Sands.djvu/49

 The Syrian glanced at him appraisingly, under knitted brows. His companion's face was expressionless, save for a slight tinge of curiosity. Delabar judged that the soldier knew nothing of written Chinese, which was the truth.

"Anything or nothing, my friend. It reads like a proverb. The oriental soul takes pleasure in maxims. Yet everything they do or say has a meaning—very often a double meaning."

"Such as Wu Fang's table talk," smiled Gray, "Granted. Is this any particular dialect?"

"Written Chinese is much the same everywhere. Just as the Arabic numerals throughout Europe." He scanned the silk attentively, and his lips parted. "The first ideograph combines the attribute or adjective 'clever' or 'shrewd' with the indicator 'man.' A shrewd man—hua jen."

"Perhaps Wu Fang: perhaps you. Go on."

"The second character is very ancient, almost a picture-drawing of warning streamers. It is an emphatic 'do not!'"

"Then it's you—and me."

"The third character is prefixed by mu, a tree, and signifies a wooden board, or a wall. The fourth means 'the West.'"

"A riddle, but not so hard to guess," grinned Gray, taking up his maps from the table and filling his pipe preparatory to work. "A wise guy doesn't climb the western wall."