ilently served them course after course of food。 The Colonel had not in three years seen so much food at once； nor tasted one dish after another so delicious or so exquisitely presented。 There was； firstly； every manner of dim sum … tiny delicate rice…dough dumplings； filled with a variety of stuffings。 Then there was fish soup； hot and spicy without being in the least heavy。 Thirdly； there were six kinds of rice； from the simply boiled white to a kind of double…fried version with minced seafood and cooked egg yolk。 The fourth course consisted of a cold salad spiced with white horseradish and cucumber。 Then came the main courses： cut fowl； golden brown； crisped； rubbed with coarse salt and herbs； broiled shrimps； hardy langoustes； cracked crabs； their shining carapaces blue and red； fresh from the boiling water。 And lastly； great crescent slices of melon； the juice already running down along the sloping sides； onto the clay plates； like the rivulets of an icy stream。
At last they were through and So…Peng； pushing his rind…garlanded plate from him； heaved a deep sigh and patted his stomach。 'Tell me about your matrix； Colonel；' he said。
And the Colonel told him all about his father； all he had been told about the mother he hardly knew； struck down by diphtheria when he was only two。 All about his stepmother； whom he despised for no one particular reason but rather for many diffuse ones。 He told So…Peng about his feelings at being an only child； a concept that the other found as fascinating and absorbing as he found it strange。 About his boyhood in rural Sussex and the road to school which eventually brought him； as it did to most； to London。 Of his burgeoning interest in the Far East； his studies and his eventual enlistment。
'And now；' said So…Peng； 'you are to embark upon a new chapter of your life。 You are about to bee a politician and more； a maker of history。 Very good。 Very good。 Soon I； too； must leave Singapore for a time。 My services are needed elsewhere。 Thus this bees； truly； a farewell party。' He paused now； as if waiting for something to occur。 Long moments passed in silence with just the lentitudinous dripping from the last of the rain leaving the lush loquat trees that surrounded the house。
Presently Chia Sheng appeared； holding a shadowed object close to her。 When she reached the table； she lowered the object into So…Peng's hands。 This time she did not leave them but stood silently at his side。
So…Peng held the object before him； chest high； and the Colonel saw that it was a copper box perhaps ten inches by eight across； enamelled and elaborately lacquered。 On its top was exquisitely painted a fiery； scaled dragon； entwined with an enormous； powerful tiger。
Still holding the box； So…Peng said； 'It is now my duty to apologize to you； dearest Cheong； for being away from Singapore on the day of your marriage to Colonel Linnear。 I have thought upon this for many months； deciding what would be most appropriate； for； as you know； everything that is mine is yours also。 As it is with all my children。' The box was now lowered slowly to the tabletop； where it lay like the most exquisite of jewels； newly mined。 'But you mean more to me； Cheong； than all the others； for your love shines all the stronger； all the purer for the hard road you had to endure。 No one of all my children； none save you； has ever wanted for anything since the moment of its birth。
'This I have no doubt you already know。 But what you arc not aware of and what I tell you now is that； of them all； it is your mind alone which has cleaved most closely to my own。 This has touched me deeply； for it has happened naturally； with no urging from myself。 It is what you yourself wanted and what you now possess。
'Now； on the point of our last farewell … for I fear that we shall never see each other again … this is for you； for your Colonel； for your child about to be born； for your children yet to be conceived。 This I give you gladly； with all my love。 It es from me； from Chia Sheng； from the long line of our families。 In all the world there is only one。 And its contents； too； are the sole sentinels； their like not to be found in any quarter of the globe。 This is my legacy。 Use it as you may。' His old hands； their long fingers； over which the skin was stretched like patented parchment； extended； pushing the box slowly across the table until it passed over the centre meridian。 At that point； as if they no longer wielded any power； they relinquished their hold； withdrawing over the empty red expanse of the table to the old man's lap。
The Colonel； holding Cheong's trembling hand in his； stared into So…Peng's eyes。 He meant to say something but； whirling upon itself； his mind paralysed his tongue and there he sat； on the near side of the table； as if in a world apart； watching a man who was obviously as important as he was mysterious； not knowing who he was； what he did or why he might be so important； yet； despite that； understanding it all for the first time。
Both the Colonel and Cheong fell in love with the house and its grounds in the suburbs beyond Tokyo。 MacArthur had； perhaps quite properly； requested that the Colonel find suitable lodgings within the city proper； to be more accessible to his work。 However； he could find no such place； at least none that could satisfy both him and Cheong。
Thus they travelled outside of the city and； almost immediately； came across the house。 It was in an area that had； miraculously； escaped the destruction that had devastated fully half of the city and much of the outlying suburbs。
It lay on the eastern verge of an enormous forest of cryptomeria and pine within which the Shinto temple blossomed like some other…worldly flora whose grace of design； quiescence and natural humility instantly bewitched the Colonel's mind； speaking to him more eloquently than even the country's finest speakers the eternalness and dignity of the Japanese spirit。 And always when he came in sight of it he thought of So…Peng。
No one knew who had inhabited the house before the Colonel and Cheong moved in； not even Ataki； the wizened old gardener。 It had been there； abandoned； for years； he had told the Colonel； though he had e faithfully every day to tend the grounds； and time had dimmed remembrance。 Perhaps； the Colonel thought with a certain degree of resignation； he just did not want to say。 In any event； it was now the Colonel's。
The formal garden in front of the house was breathtaking； plete with plexly flowering bonsai trees and a shallow stone pool filled with blue…eyed goldfish with ？ fins like fine； gossamer veils （the Colonel quickly bought a tank； setting it up in the kitchen； one of the house's few Westernized rooms； for their warm winter's sojourn）。
In the back of the house was another kind of garden altogether； a Zen pebble rectangle with four jutting rocks placed at significant points by the original artist within the uniform expanse； looking； the Colonel thought； like islands jutting from beneath a perfectly calm sea。 However； Nicholas pointed out； when he was old enough to speak； they were most surely mountain peaks rising above a cloudbank： this ment much to the delight of both the Colonel and Cheong。 But in any event； the Zen garden was； ironically enough； a place of perfect peace and meditation in a country half…dead； mutilated and charbroiled； struggling now towards a new kind of survival。
Nicholas adored the house and the grounds with an unquenchable passion。 He was drawn； over and over； to the Zen garden； where Cheong would often find him sitting thoughtfully； head held in his hands； gazing out over the stark serenity of the rising rocks amid the precisely arranged pebbles。 After a time it would be the first place she would look for him。
Nicholas could never decide whether he loved the garden best when he was alone there or when Ataki would e with his water and his rake … to keep the earth beneath from drying out and to make certain that the pebbles were properly aligned …for he adored both the intense solitude of the place （'It's like；' he told the Colonel once； 'you can hear your soul breathing'） and watching the old man's preciseness and deft economy of movement with the pebbles； which we