Kou Ying gazed at him a moment in silence. He seemed weighing something in his mind.
“You will need an interpreter,” he said gravely.
Richard More laughed out. He touched the string of cash that hung beneath his coat.
“This will talk!”
But Kou Ying shook his head with a smile.
“You must go to the temple—not the one above, but below. Beside the Buddha—can you see it?”
Richard More shaded his eyes, and nodded assent. At the base of the mountain, rising barely to the knees of the great seated figure, he could see the other temple huddled among the trees.
“I can see it,” he said.
“Go there—and inquire. Here—take the map. I think we are very near now. But—” Kou Ying hesitated. “I should feel safer—” he murmured. Then his eyes fell on Eleanor More standing with relaxed hands, waiting, and his face lighted and glowed curiously. He drew aside with a gesture of abnegation.
“If you need me, signal from the gate—or from the wall. I shall wait here with the men—and come if you need me.” He bowed gravely and motioned to the men. They drew back and watched the two figures descend the winding path that led to the valley.