"Then rose a storming fury, and such uproar as never yet had been heard in Heaven. Arms clashed on armour, a din of horrible discord; the furious wheels of brazen chariots roared with rage; dire was the noise of battle. Overhead with awesome hiss flew fiery darts in flaming volleys, and their flight covered either host with a vault of fire. Beneath this burning dome the embattled armies shocked together, with deadly onset and unquenchable rage: all Heaven resounded; and had earth been then, the whole earth had quivered to her centre. What wonder, when on both sides millions of angels fought, fierce foes, of whom the feeblest could wield the elements and arm himself with the might of all their regions!——"Thus he read on, and through the rough prose of the Russian translation Jack caught echoes of the famous passage inParadise Lost.Far into the night the reading, story-telling, singing, went on. In the morning Jack took leave of the simple brave fellows and resumed his journey. On the way he learnt that the Russian army was in full retreat. General Kuropatkin's able dispositions had extricated his worn troops from the danger of being surrounded, and they were falling back in good order, disappointed but not disheartened, towards Moukden. Thither Jack made with all speed; and entering the city with Hi Lo by one of the south gates in the evening, he found Schwab placidly smoking his pipe at the door of the Green Dragon.CHAPTER XIIIMr. Brown's HouseSchwab and Sowinski—Extempore—The Camera cannot Lie—Sowinski Suspicious—Shadowed—Short Notice—Run to Earth—A Hole in the Fence—Lares et Penates—The Press—Sowinski's SupperWeeks passed. Moukden was no longer the city Jack had known. Hitherto but few Russian troops had been seen in its streets; now these were thronged from morning till night. Regimental wagons, ammunition carts, rumbled hither and thither, raising clouds of dust. Officers strolled about, buying knick-knacks of the curio dealers; war correspondents kicked their heels in the hotels; droshkies, rickshaws, troikas, flew this way and that, to the disturbance of the placid people of this ancient city.There were already signs of winter in the streets. The seasons in Manchuria do not shade off one into another; summer heat stops, almost at one stride comes winter cold. One morning the shops in the principal streets were hung with furs—the skins of wild cats, foxes, martens, otters, sheep, raccoons; fur caps, lined coats, woollen hoods, sheepskin leggings, stockings of camel's hair. The Chinese merchants near the eastern ramparts plied a brisk trade with Russian officers, offering their customers cups of tea with true oriental politeness, and raising their prices a hundred per cent.They had been weeks of idleness for Jack. The Japanese had occupied Yentai; the Russians had thrown up entrenchments to the south of Moukden. There was talk of their taking the offensive; but warlike operations had ceased for a time, and Schwab had been too busy developing his negatives to think about taking more photographs. Jack spent much of his time with the compradore, hoping day after day, but in vain, for news of his father. He had caused money to be forwarded to Mr. Hi Feng in Harbin for the purpose of pushing enquiries in the north, through Chinese channels, and two trusty Chinese had been sent to make investigations along the Moukden-Harbin section. The latter returned quite baffled. But Jack sent them out again; he chafed at his own helplessness: meanwhile no stone must be left unturned. Once or twice he had seen Sowinski in the streets; once he met him face to face near the palace; but the Pole passed by without giving any signs of recognition.Schwab had become tired of the Green Dragon, and now lived in a little house which he rented from a Chinese grocer. He was waited on by Hi Lo, who shared with Jack a room looking on the street. One day Jack was standing at the window, watching the thronging traffic. He was in low spirits: he had been so hopeful when he left Father Mayenobe; was he to endure a long suspense like Gabriele Walewska, but in more pain even than she, not knowing whether his father was alive or dead? Suddenly, behind a string of carts he saw Schwab approaching in company with Sowinski. Schwab was talking eagerly. Jack knew that his employer had had several interviews with the Pole; he had probably been establishing business relations between him and Schlagintwert in anticipation of the close of the war. The two entered the house, and Jack, with a certain tingling of the nerves, betook himself to the kitchen. Presently Hi Lo came in to prepare dinner; Sowinski was dining with his master. The boy waited at table, and, coming in and out of the kitchen, he gave Jack from time to time information of what was going on. The Pole knew a little German; both he and his host knew a little English; and as they eked out their acquirements the quick-witted China boy picked up scraps of their conversation and reported them to Jack."He piecee Polo man talkee; say-lo what plice Melican lails? Masta he say velly cheap; he sellum evelyting cheap; he say belongey plenty pidgin what-time fightey man all wailo.""Boy!" shouted Schwab from the other room."Hai-yah, masta!" replied Hi Lo, hurrying away. He returned in a few seconds."Masta say wantchee Sin Foo chop-chop."Jack whistled under his breath. For a moment he thought of slipping out of the room. But Schwab knew he was there. To leave without explanation would cause trouble. It would perhaps be best to brazen it out. He had already met Sowinski several times without being recognized. Yet he regretted that he had not taken French leave the moment he saw the Pole coming. He obeyed the summons."You Sin Foo, bring ze photographs, zose I haf developed.""Allo lightee, masta."Jack went out conscious that the Pole's eyes had been fixed on him. Returning with the photographs he gave them to Schwab, and was on the point of leaving the room when the German bade him wait. Schwab unrolled the papers and spread them before his guest."Zere! Vat you zink of zat? Zose I took at ze battle of Liao-yang. Ach! zat, mein frient, vas a fearful time. You vere not zere? No—you are a man of beace; ve gorresbondents are men of var. Picture ze hill of Shu-shan, schrapnel burst here, zere, everyvere; ze bullet fall zick as leaves of Vallombrosa. Zat hill, mein frient, vas target for hundert fifty guns. Zere am I, at ze top, fixing ze Japanese batteries in my focus. Danger! Donnerwetter! It vas truly bandemonium. But vy am I zere? Duty, mein frient, calls me; business are business; my duty, I am baid to do it; but not enough, no, certainly not enough. Vy, I write zis mail to Düsseldorf and say I can no longer encounter such danger for ze brice. I muss haf increase of screw. Boy, fetch ze camera."Jack laid it on the table."See, mein frient," continued Schwab. "Gontemblate zat hole! Schrapnel! Anozer inch, or inch and half—ach! it is all ofer viz Hildebrand Schwab. Ze var gorresbondent run colossal risk, true; but ze var gorresbondent vat is also var photographer—vy, his risk is—vat shall I say? it is schrecklich, furchtbar!"Jack was aghast at Schwab's magnificent assurance. If he had been alone with the Pole, that would have been another matter; but to dilate upon his exploits in the presence of one who knew exactly what heroic part he had played was astounding. Jack reflected, however, that he was merely a Chinese servant, and as such of no importance.Finding that his invention was more than equal to the strain, Schwab proceeded with even greater confidence."Look at zis, mein frient. Here ve haf terrible scene of carnage in a Russian trench, a whole gombany is viped out by vun shell." Herr Schwab handed his guest the photograph of soldiers sleeping in the ditch near the Moukden railway-station. "And zis—vat zink you of zis?" He picked out the snap-shot of Siberian infantry before the blazing pawn-shop. "Here, mein frient, ve see Russian infantry vat make nightattack on village near Yentai: zey set on fire house full of Japanese.""Ver' good, ver' good," remarked the Pole with an acid smile—"for a photograph made by night."Schwab shot a suspicious glance at his guest."Ja!" he said, "it is vonderful. Zese vill abbear in ze bages of my baber, zeIllustrirte Vaterland und Colonien, zey vill give true account, shpeaking better zan volumes of gorresbondence, of ze horrible scenes vat zeir rebresentative haf beheld at ze bost of danger."Sowinski's attention had been flagging; perhaps his intuition had detected the artistic temperament. At any rate Jack felt that his eyes were once more fixed on the silent Chinese boy—fixed in a puzzled, scrutinizing gaze. The epic of the camera being completed, and Schwab turning the conversation once more to business, Jack took the opportunity of slipping away. Hi Lo remained in the room to replenish the glasses. When Jack's back was turned, Sowinski, as Hi Lo reported later, leant forward and asked quietly:"Tell me, where did you get your boy?""Vich? Sin Foo? Oh! I tell you. I got him to carry ze camera. Ach! zese Chinamen! Zey are above all zinks suberstitious. Zey zink ze camera hold tousand defils; not one haf ze gourage to undertake it till I abbly to ze gompradore of a Mr. Brown, for whom I had a letter. Mr. Brown is a bad lot; he is gone, none knows vere—ze Russians haf him put out of sight for because he haf betrayed zem to ze Japanese. Perhaps you know him, mein frient? Vell, ze gompradore recommend me zis boy, Sin Foo, vat haf some intelligence and do not fear ze defils. He is of use—yes, of use; he is not afraid to follow me in ze zick of ze battle. Vere ze gombat rage, zere is Schwab and his camera. It is in ze blood. My ancestor Hildebrand Suobensius vas a great fighter—a Landsknecht. I vill tell you his history——"Hi Lo's report made Jack uneasy. Sowinski was evidently suspicious. If his suspicions took definite form, it was scarcely likely that a man of his rancorous disposition would leave things as they were. In the dusk of the evening Jack hurried to his friend the compradore; he felt that at this critical moment he needed advice from a Chinaman of experience. When Hi An heard what had happened, he said at once that it would be madness for Jack to remain longer in Moukden. Sowinski would certainly seek a resolution of his doubts; he would in any case have Jack arrested; and being in disguise, Jack would in all probability, if arrested, meet the fate of a spy.While they were talking, Hi Lo came in hurriedly to report that one of Sowinski's servants was hanging about Schwab's house, apparently on the watch. That clinched the matter. Jack must make himself scarce, and as speedily as possible. Where was he to go? In the confused state of the country he might easily disappear; he could become a camp-follower, or mafoo to some European. But this would have its dangers; a Chinaman, as he had already proved, would soon penetrate his disguise; with a definite purpose before him, he did not care to be the sport of chance. He might take refuge for a time with Wang Shih's people; but it was not improbable that search would be made for him there, and he did not wish to involve them in the escape of a spy. There was his friend Ah Lum; he remembered the chief's invitation, and bethought himself that the Chunchuses, moving constantly about the country, enjoyed the best opportunities of learning his father's whereabouts. His mind was made up; he would join the brigands.But unluckily the city gates were now shut. Since the war had come nearer to the walls, the entrances had been guarded more strictly. No one was allowed to go in or out after nightfall unless he wore a uniform or had a pass. The inner wall was too high to climb over; if by any chance he could slip through the gates, traverse the suburbs, and climb the outer wall, he might be shot; if he waited till morning, he ran the risk of arrest. Yet, all things considered, it seemed better to wait. Sowinski was apparently not quite sure of his ground. Then, to ensure his escape, a pony was needed; and he would have to enquire of Ah Lum's agent in the city, from whom alone could he learn the present whereabouts of the band. Finally, he was disinclined to leave Schwab without personally informing him of his approaching departure. This was perhaps in the circumstances a small matter, but it had more weight with Jack than he was probably aware of.Taking leave of Hi An, he set off to return to Schwab's house. Hi Lo had preceded him. As he walked he felt that he was being dogged. He did not care to assure himself by looking back; but he took the first opportunity of slipping into a side street, and hurrying to his destination by a short cut. Schwab was writing, alone."My velly solly, masta," said Jack, kowtowing with even more than usual humility. "My wantchee wailo.""Vat you say? Already vant holiday? No, no, boy. You haf been viz me not yet vun monce. I do not gif holidays so soon.""My no wantchee holiday; my wantchee wailo allo-time; no come back; hab catchee muchee plenty leason.""Donnerwetter! Vat is zat for a kind of business? Zat is desertion; infamous! Who zen vill carry ze camera? No, I cannot let you go; no, I refuse, I vill bay you no vages.""My velly solly. My likee masta first-chop; wantchee wailo all-same. Masta no say Sin Foo belongey tellum what-time he wantchee go. Masta no wantchee pay-lo wages? all-same; my no makee bobbely. Suttinly my wailo chop-chop.""Ach! Zat is ever so; ze goot servant cut his shtick; ze bad servant shtick fast. Vell, if I say no, vizout doubt you vill run avay?""No fea'.""Vell zen, I let you go. You haf done me vell; zat is ze truth. But business are business; you haf served me vun monce less two days. I bay you zen fifteen dollar less ze vorth of two days. Vat is zat?""My no savvy, masta; my no hab catchee t'ings so-fashion China-side.""Vell, I vill gif you fifteen dollar, and zay nozink about vat you owe me. Vere you go?""My go look-see flend long long wailo.""So! I tell you zis; if again you gome back to Moukden vile Hildebrand Schwab is var gorresbondent, he alvays gif you job.""Masta too muchee velly kind. My tinkee Toitsche genelum numpa one chappee, galaw! My say-lo by-by, masta; so long!"The farewell interview had taken longer than Jack anticipated. He was anxious to be gone, feeling insecure in Schwab's house. Giving the hard-earned dollars to Hi Lo, he hastened back by side streets to the compradore, with a suspicion that he was watched as he left the house by two Chinamen whom he caught sight of on the other side of the road. He peeped back at the first corner, and saw that one of the men was coming in his direction; the other had disappeared. On reaching Hi An's house he found that the man was absent; he had spoken of making enquiries of Ah Lum's agent. Jack waited rather anxiously. Twenty minutes passed, then the compradore came in very hurriedly."Sowinski is coming with Russian soldiers!" he gasped. "They will be here in five minutes. I found Ah Lum's man, Me Hong; he will send a guide to Hsien-chia-kou, ten miles away. You must not go near Me Hong. But how to get away!"Jack fortunately could keep his head. He had but a few minutes to decide on a course, and he made the most of them. If he went into the street he would be at once seen; probably there were already men on the watch at each end. The only other way out was by the back. The compradore peered out; as Jack expected, he saw several figures lurking in the shade of the wall. Jack remembered that in the fence separating the compradore's garden from Mr. Brown's there was a narrow gap through which Hi Lo had been wont to creep as a short cut to the house. Between the fence and the house there was a line of shrubs about two and a half feet high. It was growing dark; if he could creep away under cover of the bushes to the hole in the fence he might gain his father's house. There he would in truth be in the enemy's country; but the attention of the watchers would probably be engrossed by the soldiers whose tramp was now heard approaching, and his own house would be the last that Sowinski would suspect as the fugitive's hiding-place. What the next step might be Jack could not imagine; the first was risky, but he saw no other. In a word he told the compradore of his intention. The man gasped; then with a rapid movement took a revolver from a shelf and pressed it into his young master's hand."Good-bye, Mr. Hi! I will let you know. Don't forget Father."He slipped to the back door, dropped on all-fours, and wriggled along the ground close to the line of shrubs. He had barely started when he heard Sowinski loudly summoning Hi An to open the door. The compradore made some reply, apparently temporizing; the answer was an angry shout, followed by a soothing response from the faithful servant. Jack heard no more; in another moment he reached the gap in the fence. He wriggled through; the garden had been neglected since Mr. Brown's arrest, and the undergrowth was rank; this was fortunate, for only a few feet away he saw, leaning on the fence, the form of a Russian soldier, and a yard or two beyond him another. They were talking together, or they might have heard the rustle as Jack squeezed through the hole and made for the house.In these few moments he had been rapidly thinking. He could not hope to hide in the house, but he might pass through it, gain the front door, and escape by the street. Naturally he was so familiar with the house that there was no danger of his going astray. But, slipping in by the back door and turning into the passage leading to the front, his hope was suddenly dashed. Three Chinamen stood at the open door, completely barring his egress. They were talking excitedly and in loud tones. Jack overheard one of them say that the Russians were arresting a supposed Chinaman, actually an Englishman who had come to spy for the Japanese, the very man who had been living in Hi An's house behind, and whose illness had given them such concern. Evidently they were servants of the Pole, stationed at the door to keep watch. The three men blocked up the doorway and stood facing the street.Jack noiselessly slipped into the dining-room, lit by a single lamp. He felt like a fox in a hole, with dogs all round ready to snap him up if he showed his nose. He looked round the familiar room with a curious sense of aloofness. Had this been for so long his home? It was the same room, the same furniture—a table, a few chairs, engravings on the walls, the large oaken press; but a different air seemed to pervade it now. For a moment he thought of hiding in the press until dead of night, and then slipping away. He opened the door; the lock had been forced; the press was empty save for a few bottles of wine. Clearly this would not be a secure refuge; a bottle might be required at any moment. What else could he do? He could open the window—the only glass one in the house—and drop into the street; but he would certainly be seen by the men at the door or by a casual passer-by, though there were few people about at that hour of the evening. Yet no other course suggested itself, and he was moving towards the window when he heard soft footsteps in the passage outside. Quick as thought he sprang behind the open door, listening with thumping heart.One of the servants passed by on the way to the kitchen. He had left the others at the door to keep watch while he prepared his master's supper. The cloth, Jack noticed, had been left on the table. In a minute or two the man would come into this very room, and Jack must be seen. With nerves tingling he waited, setting his lips as a plan of action was suggested to him by the emergency. Soon he heard the clink of glass. The servant was returning. He came from the kitchen carrying a tray with a glass jug, a tumbler, and a plate. He entered the room, walked to the table, and set the tray upon it. At that moment Jack stepped quietly up to him from behind, brought one arm round over his mouth to stifle any cry, and with the other held the cold barrel of his pistol to the man's temple."Keep silent, for your life!" he whispered.The Chinaman, with fear in his eyes, made no sound or movement, but stood as still as his trembling limbs allowed. Still keeping the pistol pointed at the man's head, Jack quietly closed the door. Then he said:"I will do you no injury, but your safety and mine require that you should be out of harm's way for a time. I have business with your master. Go into that press. So long as you are quiet and do what you are told, you have nothing to fear. But if you make the slightest sound, that moment will be your last. You understand me?"He spoke very low and rapidly, but distinctly. The man nodded; there was no mistaking the grim meaning with which this tall foreigner who spoke Chinese fingered the trigger of his revolver. Crossing the room to the press, the Chinaman stepped into it, and Jack closed the door.He wondered if he could slip out of the house before Sowinski returned. Before long the Pole must discover that the bird had flown; he would realize the hopelessness of searching the whole of Moukden at night for a man disguised as a Chinaman, and, furious as he might be, he would doubtless accept the situation for the moment, and return to his evening meal. Once more Jack was making towards the window when he heard footsteps again, this time approaching from the back of the house; not the shuffling felt soles of Chinese, but the tramp of heavy European boots. At the same moment there came from the street the clatter of several feet marching in time. Jack stepped back from the window. He heard a gruff voice, the voice of Sowinski, say in Russian:"Sergeant, there is no more to be done. The spy has got away. Inform the sentinels at the gates. He cannot leave the city to-night; we may trap him yet. Report to General Bekovitch; I will see him in the morning. Good-night!"The sergeant responded, and marched his squad away."Where is Ming Fo?" demanded Sowinski of the servants at the door. "Why is he not watching with you?""He is preparing your supper, master; we are keeping watch for him.""You have seen no one pass?""No one.""Very well. Go and get your supper."[image]Sowinski's VisitorThen Jack heard Sowinski's footsteps approaching the room and the two Chinamen shuffling along behind towards the kitchen. His chest heaved; the crisis was at hand.CHAPTER XIVA Night with SowinskiThe Persuasive Pistol—A Pass—Thorough—Captain Sinetsky—The Eastern Gate—An Empty PistolJack had intended to deal with the Pole as he had dealt with his servant; but the fact of the two other Chinamen passing the door of the room close on his heels had thrown out his calculations. He could not afford to run the risk of the slightest struggle; it would certainly be heard. He had but an instant to decide on his course.Behind the door was a chair. To this Jack tiptoed, and he had just seated himself when Sowinski opened the door. The Pole flung his hat on a chair, and moved towards the press, doubtless with the intention of getting a bottle of wine. He almost had his hand on the knob when he became aware, rather by instinct than by perception, of a movement behind him. Jack with his foot had gently swung the door to. Turning sharply round, Sowinski saw the red light of the shaded lamp reflected from the barrel of a pistol in the hand of a young Chinaman seated composedly within five feet of him. For a moment he was motionless; he was too much surprised for speech; a second glance showed him who his visitor was, and Jack, watching him keenly, saw his face go pale. He stood irresolute; the ominous pistol, not held rigidly, but moving gently from side to side, seemed to hold him spell-bound, as the swaying head of a snake fascinates a hare."Yes, Mr. Sowinski," said Jack quietly, though his pulse was galloping; "yes, it is I, Jack Brown. You were looking for me? Speak low, or the pistol may go off.""You would be arrested at once," said the Pole in a hard whisper."Possibly, but that would not help you. You would be dead."Sowinski ground his teeth. Rage and fear struggled for the mastery; but fear, as Jack had calculated, was the stronger. The man's eye never left the barrel."First, Mr. Sowinski," continued Jack, rising, and now pointing the revolver steadily at his head; "first, I wish to know where my father is.""Your father? How should I know? Am I your father's keeper? He was deported.""You lie!" said Jack, his voice vibrant with anger. "Come, your reply; your life depends on it."Visibly cowed by Jack's menacing look and tone, the Pole replied sullenly:"Well, it is true; he was taken to Harbin, to be delivered to General Kriloff.""And where is he now?""I do not know. I swear that is the truth. General Bekovitch——""Does he know?""I cannot say. I do not know what message he sent to General Kriloff. I have heard nothing of your father since he went away.""He went in chains; did you know that?""Yes," replied the Pole hesitatingly."Then where is he? You know that; you know more; a man is sent away in chains, herded with foul criminals; it is your doing; what have you done with him?""I don't know; may I never speak again if that is not true. He is probably in the mines."As he said this, even the imminent pistol could not prevent Sowinski from betraying his rancorous satisfaction in a mocking curl of the lip and a half-suppressed chuckle. Yet Jack felt intuitively that in this case the man was speaking the truth; that he really did not know what had become of his victim after he had seen him safely wedged in the cattle-truck. There was scorn as well as a white heat of anger in Jack's reply."You infamous scoundrel! You would be justly served if I shot you where you stand, and for my own part the satisfaction would be worth the risk. But I can't kill even such vermin as you in cold blood; and if I spare you, be sure the day of reckoning is only deferred. There are a thousand Poles waiting to kill the traitor Ladislas Streleszki at sight."The amazed and wretched man swayed as he stood; his hue turned still more ashen than before; his whole body seemed to shrink together with craven fear."Now, choose," continued Jack after a pause. "The pistol, or instant compliance with my demands.—Silence!" He heard the two Chinamen approach the door, and noticed a twitching of the Pole's mouth suggesting a cry for help. The impulse, if impulse it was, was immediately checked by Jack's stern command."Send them home."Sowinski called to the men that they might go; he would require them no more that night."Now close the shutters. Thank you! I see pen, ink, and paper on yonder shelf. Seat yourself at the table and write in Russian from my dictation."The Pole moved mechanically, under the spell of the covering revolver."'To Lieutenant-Colonel Gudriloff,'" dictated Jack. "'Please supply bearer, Chang Sin Foo, with a pass for the gates, and two good ponies; debit the charge to my account.' Now sign your name—your present name. That is right. Now, Mr. Sowinski, you have been so obliging that I trust you will excuse what must seem a poor return for your complaisance. But my position in your—that is to say, my father's house, being somewhat delicate, I have no alternative."The two Chinamen having gone away, Jack no longer subdued his tone. He had the whip hand. Still keeping the revolver steadily pointed at the scowling Pole's head, he stepped to the press and, Sowinski looking on in amazement, called to the Chinese servant to come out. The man was as pale as his master; he was stricken with the very ague of fear."You have nothing to fear," said Jack, pitying the fellow. "Do what I tell you quickly. Tear up that cloth." He pointed to the none too clean cover on the table. "Tear it into six strips."The man tried, but the material was too tough, or his hands too much enfeebled from fright."Take the knife, but remember, at the first movement in this direction I will shoot you."With some difficulty the man did as he was bid."Now bind your master's legs—first round the ankles. Quick!"—as the man recoiled before the glare in Sowinski's eyes. Jack jerked up his pistol, and the trembling wretch hastened to obey. The Pole made no resistance; but if looks could have slain, both Jack and the Chinaman would have been killed on the spot."Now the arms," said Jack, when, under his supervision, Sowinski's legs had been securely trussed. "No, behind him—not in front: that is right. Now the knees. Now tie the wrists to the ankles. Now a gag; that fur cap will do. We are going to place your master in the press. You take the head; I will take the feet."Jack felt that he was giving the Chinaman a bare chance to close with him; but the man seeming so cowed, he took the risk, careful, however, to keep the revolver conspicuous. As they lifted the Pole they saw his face distorted with rage and hate. They stood him upright in the press, and closed the door, leaving sufficient space between it and the sides to admit air. Then with a feeling of relief after the tension of his perilous situation, Jack took up the order signed by Sowinski, and was wondering how to dispose of the Chinaman, when there was a loud knock at the outer door, followed immediately by footsteps in the passage. Jack's heart beat violently; he caught a malicious look of triumph in the servant's eyes. But he recovered hissang-froid, and at the same moment made his decision. A voice in Russian was calling for Sowinski; just as the footsteps approached the inner door Jack pushed the Chinaman in front of him."Send him away," he whispered. "Remember the pistol."He had no time for more. The visitor was at the door. It opened."Ha, Sowinski!—" said the new-comer, a captain of Cossacks. Then he paused, seeing only two Chinese servants."Where is your master?""He is away, Excellency," faltered the man; "not at home; he will not be back for some hours." Jack touched his heel to quicken his invention. He continued: "He said he was going first to the Green Dragon, then to the railway-station. He expected to meet a friend. Can I give him any message?""It is very annoying," said the officer. "I must see him to-night. The Green Dragon, you say? I will see whether he is there. If he returns, say that Captain Sinetsky called, and that he is to come and see me at my quarters at once."He turned on his heel and left the house. The tension was relaxed. The immediate danger was past, but Jack saw that his escape was still to be deferred. The captain's look and tone of vexation showed that his business with Sowinski was important. Failing to find the Pole at the hotel he might return himself or send a messenger, and then, if Jack were absent, the prisoner would be discovered and released, and the hue and cry after the disguised Englishman would be hot before he could get his pass and be clear of the city. The gates would not be opened before daybreak. It would hardly be safe to leave the house much earlier. He made up his mind to wait.Creaking and groaning, the massive gates barring the eastern entrance to Moukden swung back on their hinges; the squatting crowd patiently awaiting the opening awoke to sudden activity; there was a general movement of foot-passengers, chairs, and carts towards the archway. In a moment the rush was checked: a Cossack officer with a dozen sturdy troopers barred the way—one man only might pass at a time, and that after careful scrutiny.When some two or three score had run the gauntlet, the officer, whose patience seemed to be sorely tried, permitted himself a hearty Russian oath, and growled to the sergeant at his side."These Chinese are all alike. What the goodness is the use of asking us to stop—what is it?"—he glanced at a paper in his hand—"'a young Englishman, tall, slim, cleverly disguised as a native'? It's absurd—it's a job for a Chinaman, not for us.""But, little father, it must be quite easy to recognize an Englishman. They are all red-faced, with long noses, and big teeth, and side whiskers—I have seen pictures of them in the papers in Petersburg. They are ugly, the English—one would know them anywhere."Captain Vassily Nikolaeitch Kargopol, his feelings relieved by his brief outburst, smiled condescendingly. He recognized the sergeant's description of the familiar continental caricature of John Bull; but as the crowd surged through he had no time for correcting his subordinate's impressions. An old man, riding one pony and leading another, dismounted at the gate as the crowd thinned, and with elaborate kowtows presented his pass. The shadow of a wide-brimmed hat seemed to deepen the wrinkles of his parchment skin; but there was an alert look in the eye, and a nervous energy in the carriage, that told of a spirit still young."Pass the bearer, Chang Sin Foo, and two ponies. Gudriloff—Lieutenant-Colonel." The captain read out the instructions, handed back the document, and signed to the Chinaman to proceed. Leading his ponies through the gate, the old man mounted, and rode slowly on. A mile out he quickened his pace, and struck off into a side track winding towards the hills that bounded the horizon north, south, and east. As he left the main road, the more rapid movement jolted a pistol from the folds of his voluminous garments. He glanced back and saw it lying on the track, but did not check his pace, though an odd smile disturbed the wrinkles of his mouth."It's a good job," he muttered in unmistakable English—"a jolly good job, Sowinski didn't know it wasn't loaded!"CHAPTER XVCossack and ChunchuseThe Road in China—A Change of View—Looking Ahead—A Cold Welcome—Beleaguered—The Part of Prudence—Smoke—Beaten Back—The Water Supply—An Inspiration—Ch'hoy!At Hsien-chia-kou the strangely young old man with the two ponies met not only the guide punctually furnished by Ah Lum's agent, but also Mr. Hi and his son. The compradore explained that after what had happened he no longer felt safe in his little cottage, and had made up his mind to join his brother in Harbin and do what he could there to further the enquiries for Mr. Brown. As for Hi Lo, the boy had for the first time shown a most reprehensible and unfilial spirit of disobedience. He had declared that the Toitsche genelum's service, now that Sin Foo had left, had no further attraction for him. If he must serve someone, it should be Mr. Chack Blown; and he would much rather serve Mr. Chack Blown than accompany his father to Harbin, for he did not like his Aunt Feng.Jack laughed."Let him come with me, Mr. Hi. He saved those papers so cleverly that I think a great deal of him, and I'll really be glad to have him with me."The compradore would not oppose his young master's express wish; accordingly, Jack, when he rode off, had two companions.Jack had learnt from his guide that Ah Lum's camp was situated in the hills south of Kirin, at a point many miles due north of the spot where he had left the chief. He had before him, therefore, a journey of nearly three hundred miles. Fortunately the rainy season was past; a few days of brilliant sunshine and bustling winds had worked a marvellous transformation. The road that only recently had been a pulp of liquid mud was now thick with soft brown blinding dust, clouds of which were blown by the north-easter full in the travellers' faces, covering them from head to foot. Unpleasant as this was, it was less troublesome than the continual assaults of midges which Jack had suffered on his previous journey. The autumn air, already nipping out of the sunshine, had annihilated these pests, and the only trouble of a similar kind that Jack experienced was from some black ants whose nest his pony disturbed, and which bit with terrible ferocity.For more than a week the three riders pursued their journey almost without incident. After the first few days they came into a country of hill and forest, broken by richly cultivated valleys and large swift streams. They had to climb ridges, to cross ravines, to ford rivers, sometimes fording the same river a score of times, so serpentine were its windings. Here and there were settlers' huts, where they found scanty accommodation, but a warm welcome; here and there also a hillside inn, at which they spent the night on the floor of a tiny room, with perhaps a dozen Chinamen packed like sardines in a box on the k'ang above them.During these days and nights Jack had many opportunities of thinking over his position. He wondered sometimes whether the course he had decided on was the best he could have taken; but his ponderings always converged to the same point—that his only chance of obtaining news of his father and procuring his liberation lay in remaining in Russian or Russo-Chinese territory. For himself, hunted and outlawed as he was, capture might well mean death, and nowhere was he so likely to be safe as among the Chunchuses. But he saw that in seeking an asylum among them he was in a sense casting in his lot with the enemies of Russia and espousing their quarrel. That consideration gave him food for thought. He had no concern with the great struggle then in progress. It was nothing to him whether Manchuria became the spoil of either Russia or Japan. Up to the time of his father's arrest, indeed, his sympathies had inclined to the Russian side. He had made many friends among the Russians during his stay in Moukden, especially among the engineers and officials connected with the railway. He had found them amiable, courteous, and singularly free from what, for want of a better word, the Englishman calls "side". Of the Japanese, on the other hand, he knew almost nothing. His impressions of the few he had met in the course of business were not wholly favourable, which was perhaps little to be wondered at, for the trading classes of Japan, with whom alone Mr. Brown had had relations, were only just beginning to emerge from the condition of a despised and, it must be admitted, despicable caste. Japanese of the Samurai class looked down on a merchant with far more disdain than an English aristocrat shows towards a petty tradesman; and it would have seemed incredible to them that an English marquis should become a coal merchant or a dairyman. It was natural enough that a class thus despised should not be greatly hampered with self-respect; and their business methods did not commend themselves to Mr. Brown, with whom, as with every British merchant, his word was as good as his bond.But the black sheep whom Jack had come across recently had brought about a change in his feeling towards the Russians generally. He saw them now as grasping adventurers, and the Chunchuses as patriots waging a lawful warfare against invasion and oppression. He had no very kindly feeling for the men who were treating his father with such abominable injustice. He did not disguise from himself that in joining the Chunchuses he could not remain a passive spectator of the struggle. He must be prepared to identify himself completely with the fortunes of Ah Lum's band, and become to all intents and purposes as lawless a brigand as themselves, But he hoped it would not be for long. If the tide of success upon which the Japanese arms had been borne from victory to victory did not turn, the Russian domination must ere long be shattered, and in some vague undefined way he felt that the fortunes of his quest were bound up with the discomfiture of the Russians. But in thus throwing in his lot with their enemies he reserved one point: he would steadily refuse to have any part in such excesses as were from time to time reported of the Chunchuses. It was likely enough that as a very unimportant individual, incurably a "foreign devil", he would be laughed to scorn for his scruples by Ah Lum. The custom of torturing prisoners was so deeply rooted in Chinese methods of warfare that Ah Lum, even if he so desired, might be unable to control his followers and prevent atrocity when they were not under his immediate observation. This would make it difficult for Jack to remain with them; but he put the matter from his thoughts: he would not meet difficulties half-way.Now and again, as with his guide and Hi Lo he passed through isolated villages, he heard of small bodies of Cossacks having been seen in their vicinity. From the general talk at inns and farmhouses he gathered that the Russians, alarmed for their communications after the battle of Liao-yang, were about to make a serious attempt to deal with Ah Lum and one or two other Chunchuse chiefs who threatened the railway between Harbin and Vladivostok. The Cossack parties whose movements the villagers reported, were presumably scouting to ascertain the exact position of Ah Lum's band preparatory to a concerted attempt to entrap him.One afternoon, as they climbed a rugged slope towards a village nestling among trees at the top, the travellers heard the rattle of musketry in the distance, and saw a couple of Russian horsemen riding away in the direction whence the sound came. At first Jack thought of avoiding the village altogether, and making a detour; but he had been riding since early morning over difficult country, the sun had been hot, and he was very hungry; so that after consulting with his guide he decided to go on, the man thinking there was as great a risk of encountering Russians the one way as the other. They proceeded, therefore, but cautiously, keeping a sharp look-out. The guide knew the headman of the village; if he could get speech with him they might obtain useful information.Firing could still be heard fitfully; it was impossible to tell how far away, but it seemed at a considerable distance from the village. When they entered the street, they came upon a knot of villagers in voluble discussion. They were instantly the object of a narrow scrutiny; but the guide had already marked his friend the headman among the group, and called him by name. The man came forward to meet the riders; the guide explained in a sentence that he wished to have some private talk with him, and he at once led the way to his house.Thinking that frankness was here the best policy, Jack asked his guide to explain briefly who he was and what had brought him to the village. The headman was perturbed, almost incensed, when he heard the story. He had suffered already from depredations by the brigands; if the Russians knew that he had harboured a fugitive, he could only expect to suffer even more seriously at their hands. And there was great danger that they would discover the new-comers' presence. A squadron of Cossacks about two hundred strong was at that moment besieging some fifty Chunchuses in a farm three miles away. The brigands had been shut in for three days, and it was expected that they must yield shortly, perhaps before another day was past. The owner of the farm had come into the village when the Chunchuses appeared. He said that there was plenty of grain in his barns; the brigands could not be starved; but the water supply was likely to give out. The farm being situated less than half a mile from a river, the store of water kept in it was only sufficient for his family and servants, and could not meet the requirements of the company of Chunchuses, to say nothing of their horses. Behind the walls they might succeed in keeping the Russians at bay unless artillery were brought against them; but lack of water must inevitably cause them to surrender. They had made a good fight; the besiegers had lost a good many men; two Cossacks had come into the village only a short time before Jack's arrival, with orders to the headman to prepare quarters for the wounded. But they so greatly outnumbered the defenders that they could afford to lose heavily without seriously reducing the odds in their favour; and, taught by experience, they would probably not attempt to storm the place, but would sit down and leave its reduction to the work of time.These explanations were given by the headman, who concluded by earnestly entreating Jack and his companions to depart. If the Cossacks suspected that any of the villagers had been in relations with the brigands they would certainly burn every house in the place, and in all likelihood slaughter the inhabitants. Jack sympathized with the man in his terror; he said at once that the village should suffer no harm through him; and after buying a little food to carry him to the next stage, he rode out with his two companions.But the news he had just heard was not of a kind to pass unconsidered. He was on his way to join Ah Lum's band; it was a part of that band that was now in such desperate straits, and he felt a personal interest in their fate. Word had been sent to Ah Lum, as the headman had informed him; but Ah Lum was at least two days' march away, and another two days must pass before help could come from him, even if he found himself in a position to send assistance. If this siege of the farm were a part of an organized movement against the Chunchuses, it was not unlikely that Ah Lum himself was hard pressed.Jack was in a quandary. Prudence bade him press on without delay; the convoy with the Russian wounded was no doubt already on the way to the village, and might meet him or cross his path at any moment. But he felt an overpowering curiosity, natural in one of his active spirit, to see for himself the place where the brigands were so stoutly keeping up a fight against odds; and his curiosity was reinforced by another motive: the desire to see whether there was any possibility of their escaping from their peril. He felt the natural impulse of youth to "do something", even though he recognized how hopeless it was to imagine that he, with but two companions, could intervene between the Chunchuses and their fate. Still, the impulse was overmastering; he must see with his own eyes how they were situated; and having availed himself of Ah Lum's protection in placing himself in the hands of his agent, he thought it his duty not to leave the neighbourhood without at least assuring himself that rescue was out of the question.He announced his intention of riding to the farm. His guide vigorously protested; it was absurd, he said, to go into the very jaws of danger; much better hurry on and reach safety with the chief."And what would Mr. Ah think of you if he heard that?""But I don't know the way, master.""No matter. The firing was to our right; we saw the way the Cossacks went; no doubt the wounded will come the same way, so we must avoid that; but if we work round gradually under cover of that copse yonder, we shall be going in the right direction. They're firing again. You will come with me," he added sternly, divining an inclination to bolt, "or you will no longer be Mr. Ah's man, and you know what that means."The three turned off to the right, skirting the beech plantation of which Jack had spoken, the guide resigned but sullen. It was now about five o'clock in the afternoon; in an hour and a half it would be dark. Riding cautiously, keeping a keen look-out on all sides for signs of the Russians, they gradually made their way across country, guided by the firing that was still heard at intervals. They were crossing a hilltop some three miles from the village they had left behind, when Hi Lo suddenly declared that he saw smoke in the distance."You have sharp eyes," said Jack. "We had better dismount. Being on the sky-line we shall be easily seen if the Russians look this way. Let us hope they are giving their whole attention to the farm."They tied up their ponies to trees some distance from the hill-path they had been following. Jack wished to leave Hi Lo in charge of the animals, but the boy pleaded hard to be allowed to accompany his master."Masta say-lo my hab plenty good look-see. My walkee long-side masta; plaps my can helpum masta.""Very well. Now show me where you saw the smoke."The boy pointed to a hollow nearly a mile away, where at first Jack could see nothing but fields of hay and over-ripe kowliang. The smoke of course had now disappeared; but, following Hi Lo's finger, Jack presently saw the dull mud-coloured walls of a farm enclosure, barely distinguishable from the brownish vegetation around. A moment later Hi Lo's keen glance lighted upon the low shelter-tents of the Russian encampment, some distance to the left of the farm, apparently situated in a field, recently cropped, near the bank of the river, of which a few yards could be seen. Not a man was in sight; but beyond the camp was a clump of brushwood, at the edge of which Jack fancied he saw the black forms of two or three horses. Probably the rest were tethered in the copse.As Jack and his two companions, standing motionless on the hilltop, looked across the valley they suddenly saw a score of men rush out from the tall kowliang in which they had been concealed, and dash forward against the far corner of the wall surrounding the farm. At the same moment, from the fields around puffs of smoke were seen rising in the air, and a few moments later the sharp rattle of musketry, like the sudden shooting of pebbles from a cart, reached their ears. But the defenders had not been caught napping. A withering fire met the Russians as they charged up the slight slope leading to the farm; only a few gained the crest, and these fell to the Chunchuses, who all at once appeared as by magic in the courtyard. The survivors hesitated for a moment; then they turned and plunged into cover of the long grass and kowliang. In a few seconds every man had disappeared from view; peace reigned over the scene; there was nothing to show that the farm was the centre of a bitter struggle.But for the scarcity of water Jack had little doubt from what he had seen that the Chunchuses would be able to hold their own indefinitely against the Cossacks, unless siege operations of a regular kind were adopted. He could see no trace of trenches, such as, with their numerical advantage, the besiegers could easily have constructed if they had been so minded and possessed the requisite knowledge. But they were a mounted force, unused, no doubt, to any tactics but the simple Cossack evolutions. The average Russian soldier has little adaptability. The construction of trenches is not a horseman's business; it would not enter the head of a Cossack captain to employ a device so far removed from his routine. Yet with the aid of a trench the besiegers could make short work of the Chunchuse defences, which consisted simply of the mud wall surrounding the farm, and the farm itself—a thatched cottage with byres and pig-sties adjacent, flimsy structures at the best.Under cover of the tall shrubs that crowned the hill, Jack looked long and searchingly at the beleaguered farm. He tried to picture the defenders within the walls, hoping for relief, watching the inch-fall of their water supply, tantalized by the sight of the full stream flowing so near, and yet as distant as though it were in another continent. To Jack it appeared that there was no chance whatever of doing anything to assist the Chunchuses, among whom doubtless were men whom he had seen in Ah Lum's camp. He asked the guide whether he could suggest a way. The man replied that the only course was to hurry on and inform Ah Lum of the desperate position of his men. Inasmuch as a messenger had gone on the same errand two days before, the guide's suggestion was not very helpful. And Jack was possessed of the feeling that to act thus would be equivalent to leaving the trapped band in the lurch, a thing that went very much against the grain. Yet what else could he do? If he could give no help in the actual, pressing emergency, there was nothing to gain by remaining on the scene—not only nothing to gain but everything to lose, for he would run the risk of being snapped up by the Cossacks."There's no help for it, I suppose," he said half-aloud. Very unwillingly he turned his back on the farm, and retraced his steps down the hillside towards the copse where the ponies were tethered. Just before the farm was wholly shut from his sight by the crest of the hill, he turned again and swept the country with his eye, as though to take a last look at the scene of an approaching tragedy. It happened that in his movements upon the hill he had reached a point where a somewhat different view was obtainable, and he now noticed for the first time, half a mile away to his left, an open space in which a group of men, Russians no doubt, were busy around a number of tripods with big cauldrons suspended. Smoke was rising from one or two; the men were evidently lighting fires to prepare their evening meal."Strange," thought Jack, "that the cooking place should be so far from the shelter-tents and horses. It must be nearly half a mile from the farm. Do the troops march to the food, I wonder, or is the food carried to the troops? Probably the former. But why so far away?"Even as the question occurred to him the answer flashed upon his mind—and not only the answer, but a possible means of doing what he so much longed to do. Was it possible? He felt his pulse quicken at the mere thought. The dusk was fast gathering over the scene; the farm and its surroundings must soon be shut altogether from his gaze; before that came about, he must take one more look. Bidding Hi Lo and the guide remain where they were, he went back to his former post of observation, moving very carefully so as not to be seen from the quarter where he had not previously suspected the presence of an enemy. Once more he scanned the landscape; then he returned to the two Chinese, who looked at him questioningly, wondering at the change of expression on his face."Back to the ponies!" he said briefly. As they went they saw the glow of the Russians' fires in the glooming sky. The sight brought a smile to Jack's lips, but he said nothing to his expectant companions. They found the ponies where they had left them; they took from the saddles the food brought from the village—a little rice, some bean sprouts, and a small heap of monkey-nuts, all that they had been able to get at short notice. As they munched their frugal meal Jack could not but wish for five minutes by the steaming cooking-pots on the other side of the hill. When their hunger was satisfied, and the dusk had deepened into night, Jack suddenly looked up from the brown study in which he had appeared to be absorbed and said:"Now, listen to me."His two companions listened with all their ears; Hi Lo soon became restless with excitement; the guide, though his Chinese stolidity was not so easily broken through, at length gave utterance to the exclamation "Ch'hoy!" which signifies approbation or disdain, pleasure or misgiving, according to the inflection of the voice. What Jack had to say took some time; it was quite dark when he finished; then he got up."Remember," he said, "not a movement nor a sound. Do exactly as I have told you; then make for this spot again."Then he slipped away into the darkness.Slowly, with infinite caution, he crossed the brow of the hill, struck off towards the right, and descended the slope on the opposite side. It was so dark that he had no fear of being seen; but, his view of the camp fires being intercepted by the hill, he could not make sure of his direction, and knew that at any moment he might stumble upon a sentry. The only chance of escape for the Chunchuses being to take advantage of the darkness, he had no doubt that the Russians would keep the strictest watch at night. He had to guess his way; he was going to the farm.
"Then rose a storming fury, and such uproar as never yet had been heard in Heaven. Arms clashed on armour, a din of horrible discord; the furious wheels of brazen chariots roared with rage; dire was the noise of battle. Overhead with awesome hiss flew fiery darts in flaming volleys, and their flight covered either host with a vault of fire. Beneath this burning dome the embattled armies shocked together, with deadly onset and unquenchable rage: all Heaven resounded; and had earth been then, the whole earth had quivered to her centre. What wonder, when on both sides millions of angels fought, fierce foes, of whom the feeblest could wield the elements and arm himself with the might of all their regions!——"
Thus he read on, and through the rough prose of the Russian translation Jack caught echoes of the famous passage inParadise Lost.
Far into the night the reading, story-telling, singing, went on. In the morning Jack took leave of the simple brave fellows and resumed his journey. On the way he learnt that the Russian army was in full retreat. General Kuropatkin's able dispositions had extricated his worn troops from the danger of being surrounded, and they were falling back in good order, disappointed but not disheartened, towards Moukden. Thither Jack made with all speed; and entering the city with Hi Lo by one of the south gates in the evening, he found Schwab placidly smoking his pipe at the door of the Green Dragon.
CHAPTER XIII
Mr. Brown's House
Schwab and Sowinski—Extempore—The Camera cannot Lie—Sowinski Suspicious—Shadowed—Short Notice—Run to Earth—A Hole in the Fence—Lares et Penates—The Press—Sowinski's Supper
Weeks passed. Moukden was no longer the city Jack had known. Hitherto but few Russian troops had been seen in its streets; now these were thronged from morning till night. Regimental wagons, ammunition carts, rumbled hither and thither, raising clouds of dust. Officers strolled about, buying knick-knacks of the curio dealers; war correspondents kicked their heels in the hotels; droshkies, rickshaws, troikas, flew this way and that, to the disturbance of the placid people of this ancient city.
There were already signs of winter in the streets. The seasons in Manchuria do not shade off one into another; summer heat stops, almost at one stride comes winter cold. One morning the shops in the principal streets were hung with furs—the skins of wild cats, foxes, martens, otters, sheep, raccoons; fur caps, lined coats, woollen hoods, sheepskin leggings, stockings of camel's hair. The Chinese merchants near the eastern ramparts plied a brisk trade with Russian officers, offering their customers cups of tea with true oriental politeness, and raising their prices a hundred per cent.
They had been weeks of idleness for Jack. The Japanese had occupied Yentai; the Russians had thrown up entrenchments to the south of Moukden. There was talk of their taking the offensive; but warlike operations had ceased for a time, and Schwab had been too busy developing his negatives to think about taking more photographs. Jack spent much of his time with the compradore, hoping day after day, but in vain, for news of his father. He had caused money to be forwarded to Mr. Hi Feng in Harbin for the purpose of pushing enquiries in the north, through Chinese channels, and two trusty Chinese had been sent to make investigations along the Moukden-Harbin section. The latter returned quite baffled. But Jack sent them out again; he chafed at his own helplessness: meanwhile no stone must be left unturned. Once or twice he had seen Sowinski in the streets; once he met him face to face near the palace; but the Pole passed by without giving any signs of recognition.
Schwab had become tired of the Green Dragon, and now lived in a little house which he rented from a Chinese grocer. He was waited on by Hi Lo, who shared with Jack a room looking on the street. One day Jack was standing at the window, watching the thronging traffic. He was in low spirits: he had been so hopeful when he left Father Mayenobe; was he to endure a long suspense like Gabriele Walewska, but in more pain even than she, not knowing whether his father was alive or dead? Suddenly, behind a string of carts he saw Schwab approaching in company with Sowinski. Schwab was talking eagerly. Jack knew that his employer had had several interviews with the Pole; he had probably been establishing business relations between him and Schlagintwert in anticipation of the close of the war. The two entered the house, and Jack, with a certain tingling of the nerves, betook himself to the kitchen. Presently Hi Lo came in to prepare dinner; Sowinski was dining with his master. The boy waited at table, and, coming in and out of the kitchen, he gave Jack from time to time information of what was going on. The Pole knew a little German; both he and his host knew a little English; and as they eked out their acquirements the quick-witted China boy picked up scraps of their conversation and reported them to Jack.
"He piecee Polo man talkee; say-lo what plice Melican lails? Masta he say velly cheap; he sellum evelyting cheap; he say belongey plenty pidgin what-time fightey man all wailo."
"Boy!" shouted Schwab from the other room.
"Hai-yah, masta!" replied Hi Lo, hurrying away. He returned in a few seconds.
"Masta say wantchee Sin Foo chop-chop."
Jack whistled under his breath. For a moment he thought of slipping out of the room. But Schwab knew he was there. To leave without explanation would cause trouble. It would perhaps be best to brazen it out. He had already met Sowinski several times without being recognized. Yet he regretted that he had not taken French leave the moment he saw the Pole coming. He obeyed the summons.
"You Sin Foo, bring ze photographs, zose I haf developed."
"Allo lightee, masta."
Jack went out conscious that the Pole's eyes had been fixed on him. Returning with the photographs he gave them to Schwab, and was on the point of leaving the room when the German bade him wait. Schwab unrolled the papers and spread them before his guest.
"Zere! Vat you zink of zat? Zose I took at ze battle of Liao-yang. Ach! zat, mein frient, vas a fearful time. You vere not zere? No—you are a man of beace; ve gorresbondents are men of var. Picture ze hill of Shu-shan, schrapnel burst here, zere, everyvere; ze bullet fall zick as leaves of Vallombrosa. Zat hill, mein frient, vas target for hundert fifty guns. Zere am I, at ze top, fixing ze Japanese batteries in my focus. Danger! Donnerwetter! It vas truly bandemonium. But vy am I zere? Duty, mein frient, calls me; business are business; my duty, I am baid to do it; but not enough, no, certainly not enough. Vy, I write zis mail to Düsseldorf and say I can no longer encounter such danger for ze brice. I muss haf increase of screw. Boy, fetch ze camera."
Jack laid it on the table.
"See, mein frient," continued Schwab. "Gontemblate zat hole! Schrapnel! Anozer inch, or inch and half—ach! it is all ofer viz Hildebrand Schwab. Ze var gorresbondent run colossal risk, true; but ze var gorresbondent vat is also var photographer—vy, his risk is—vat shall I say? it is schrecklich, furchtbar!"
Jack was aghast at Schwab's magnificent assurance. If he had been alone with the Pole, that would have been another matter; but to dilate upon his exploits in the presence of one who knew exactly what heroic part he had played was astounding. Jack reflected, however, that he was merely a Chinese servant, and as such of no importance.
Finding that his invention was more than equal to the strain, Schwab proceeded with even greater confidence.
"Look at zis, mein frient. Here ve haf terrible scene of carnage in a Russian trench, a whole gombany is viped out by vun shell." Herr Schwab handed his guest the photograph of soldiers sleeping in the ditch near the Moukden railway-station. "And zis—vat zink you of zis?" He picked out the snap-shot of Siberian infantry before the blazing pawn-shop. "Here, mein frient, ve see Russian infantry vat make nightattack on village near Yentai: zey set on fire house full of Japanese."
"Ver' good, ver' good," remarked the Pole with an acid smile—"for a photograph made by night."
Schwab shot a suspicious glance at his guest.
"Ja!" he said, "it is vonderful. Zese vill abbear in ze bages of my baber, zeIllustrirte Vaterland und Colonien, zey vill give true account, shpeaking better zan volumes of gorresbondence, of ze horrible scenes vat zeir rebresentative haf beheld at ze bost of danger."
Sowinski's attention had been flagging; perhaps his intuition had detected the artistic temperament. At any rate Jack felt that his eyes were once more fixed on the silent Chinese boy—fixed in a puzzled, scrutinizing gaze. The epic of the camera being completed, and Schwab turning the conversation once more to business, Jack took the opportunity of slipping away. Hi Lo remained in the room to replenish the glasses. When Jack's back was turned, Sowinski, as Hi Lo reported later, leant forward and asked quietly:
"Tell me, where did you get your boy?"
"Vich? Sin Foo? Oh! I tell you. I got him to carry ze camera. Ach! zese Chinamen! Zey are above all zinks suberstitious. Zey zink ze camera hold tousand defils; not one haf ze gourage to undertake it till I abbly to ze gompradore of a Mr. Brown, for whom I had a letter. Mr. Brown is a bad lot; he is gone, none knows vere—ze Russians haf him put out of sight for because he haf betrayed zem to ze Japanese. Perhaps you know him, mein frient? Vell, ze gompradore recommend me zis boy, Sin Foo, vat haf some intelligence and do not fear ze defils. He is of use—yes, of use; he is not afraid to follow me in ze zick of ze battle. Vere ze gombat rage, zere is Schwab and his camera. It is in ze blood. My ancestor Hildebrand Suobensius vas a great fighter—a Landsknecht. I vill tell you his history——"
Hi Lo's report made Jack uneasy. Sowinski was evidently suspicious. If his suspicions took definite form, it was scarcely likely that a man of his rancorous disposition would leave things as they were. In the dusk of the evening Jack hurried to his friend the compradore; he felt that at this critical moment he needed advice from a Chinaman of experience. When Hi An heard what had happened, he said at once that it would be madness for Jack to remain longer in Moukden. Sowinski would certainly seek a resolution of his doubts; he would in any case have Jack arrested; and being in disguise, Jack would in all probability, if arrested, meet the fate of a spy.
While they were talking, Hi Lo came in hurriedly to report that one of Sowinski's servants was hanging about Schwab's house, apparently on the watch. That clinched the matter. Jack must make himself scarce, and as speedily as possible. Where was he to go? In the confused state of the country he might easily disappear; he could become a camp-follower, or mafoo to some European. But this would have its dangers; a Chinaman, as he had already proved, would soon penetrate his disguise; with a definite purpose before him, he did not care to be the sport of chance. He might take refuge for a time with Wang Shih's people; but it was not improbable that search would be made for him there, and he did not wish to involve them in the escape of a spy. There was his friend Ah Lum; he remembered the chief's invitation, and bethought himself that the Chunchuses, moving constantly about the country, enjoyed the best opportunities of learning his father's whereabouts. His mind was made up; he would join the brigands.
But unluckily the city gates were now shut. Since the war had come nearer to the walls, the entrances had been guarded more strictly. No one was allowed to go in or out after nightfall unless he wore a uniform or had a pass. The inner wall was too high to climb over; if by any chance he could slip through the gates, traverse the suburbs, and climb the outer wall, he might be shot; if he waited till morning, he ran the risk of arrest. Yet, all things considered, it seemed better to wait. Sowinski was apparently not quite sure of his ground. Then, to ensure his escape, a pony was needed; and he would have to enquire of Ah Lum's agent in the city, from whom alone could he learn the present whereabouts of the band. Finally, he was disinclined to leave Schwab without personally informing him of his approaching departure. This was perhaps in the circumstances a small matter, but it had more weight with Jack than he was probably aware of.
Taking leave of Hi An, he set off to return to Schwab's house. Hi Lo had preceded him. As he walked he felt that he was being dogged. He did not care to assure himself by looking back; but he took the first opportunity of slipping into a side street, and hurrying to his destination by a short cut. Schwab was writing, alone.
"My velly solly, masta," said Jack, kowtowing with even more than usual humility. "My wantchee wailo."
"Vat you say? Already vant holiday? No, no, boy. You haf been viz me not yet vun monce. I do not gif holidays so soon."
"My no wantchee holiday; my wantchee wailo allo-time; no come back; hab catchee muchee plenty leason."
"Donnerwetter! Vat is zat for a kind of business? Zat is desertion; infamous! Who zen vill carry ze camera? No, I cannot let you go; no, I refuse, I vill bay you no vages."
"My velly solly. My likee masta first-chop; wantchee wailo all-same. Masta no say Sin Foo belongey tellum what-time he wantchee go. Masta no wantchee pay-lo wages? all-same; my no makee bobbely. Suttinly my wailo chop-chop."
"Ach! Zat is ever so; ze goot servant cut his shtick; ze bad servant shtick fast. Vell, if I say no, vizout doubt you vill run avay?"
"No fea'."
"Vell zen, I let you go. You haf done me vell; zat is ze truth. But business are business; you haf served me vun monce less two days. I bay you zen fifteen dollar less ze vorth of two days. Vat is zat?"
"My no savvy, masta; my no hab catchee t'ings so-fashion China-side."
"Vell, I vill gif you fifteen dollar, and zay nozink about vat you owe me. Vere you go?"
"My go look-see flend long long wailo."
"So! I tell you zis; if again you gome back to Moukden vile Hildebrand Schwab is var gorresbondent, he alvays gif you job."
"Masta too muchee velly kind. My tinkee Toitsche genelum numpa one chappee, galaw! My say-lo by-by, masta; so long!"
The farewell interview had taken longer than Jack anticipated. He was anxious to be gone, feeling insecure in Schwab's house. Giving the hard-earned dollars to Hi Lo, he hastened back by side streets to the compradore, with a suspicion that he was watched as he left the house by two Chinamen whom he caught sight of on the other side of the road. He peeped back at the first corner, and saw that one of the men was coming in his direction; the other had disappeared. On reaching Hi An's house he found that the man was absent; he had spoken of making enquiries of Ah Lum's agent. Jack waited rather anxiously. Twenty minutes passed, then the compradore came in very hurriedly.
"Sowinski is coming with Russian soldiers!" he gasped. "They will be here in five minutes. I found Ah Lum's man, Me Hong; he will send a guide to Hsien-chia-kou, ten miles away. You must not go near Me Hong. But how to get away!"
Jack fortunately could keep his head. He had but a few minutes to decide on a course, and he made the most of them. If he went into the street he would be at once seen; probably there were already men on the watch at each end. The only other way out was by the back. The compradore peered out; as Jack expected, he saw several figures lurking in the shade of the wall. Jack remembered that in the fence separating the compradore's garden from Mr. Brown's there was a narrow gap through which Hi Lo had been wont to creep as a short cut to the house. Between the fence and the house there was a line of shrubs about two and a half feet high. It was growing dark; if he could creep away under cover of the bushes to the hole in the fence he might gain his father's house. There he would in truth be in the enemy's country; but the attention of the watchers would probably be engrossed by the soldiers whose tramp was now heard approaching, and his own house would be the last that Sowinski would suspect as the fugitive's hiding-place. What the next step might be Jack could not imagine; the first was risky, but he saw no other. In a word he told the compradore of his intention. The man gasped; then with a rapid movement took a revolver from a shelf and pressed it into his young master's hand.
"Good-bye, Mr. Hi! I will let you know. Don't forget Father."
He slipped to the back door, dropped on all-fours, and wriggled along the ground close to the line of shrubs. He had barely started when he heard Sowinski loudly summoning Hi An to open the door. The compradore made some reply, apparently temporizing; the answer was an angry shout, followed by a soothing response from the faithful servant. Jack heard no more; in another moment he reached the gap in the fence. He wriggled through; the garden had been neglected since Mr. Brown's arrest, and the undergrowth was rank; this was fortunate, for only a few feet away he saw, leaning on the fence, the form of a Russian soldier, and a yard or two beyond him another. They were talking together, or they might have heard the rustle as Jack squeezed through the hole and made for the house.
In these few moments he had been rapidly thinking. He could not hope to hide in the house, but he might pass through it, gain the front door, and escape by the street. Naturally he was so familiar with the house that there was no danger of his going astray. But, slipping in by the back door and turning into the passage leading to the front, his hope was suddenly dashed. Three Chinamen stood at the open door, completely barring his egress. They were talking excitedly and in loud tones. Jack overheard one of them say that the Russians were arresting a supposed Chinaman, actually an Englishman who had come to spy for the Japanese, the very man who had been living in Hi An's house behind, and whose illness had given them such concern. Evidently they were servants of the Pole, stationed at the door to keep watch. The three men blocked up the doorway and stood facing the street.
Jack noiselessly slipped into the dining-room, lit by a single lamp. He felt like a fox in a hole, with dogs all round ready to snap him up if he showed his nose. He looked round the familiar room with a curious sense of aloofness. Had this been for so long his home? It was the same room, the same furniture—a table, a few chairs, engravings on the walls, the large oaken press; but a different air seemed to pervade it now. For a moment he thought of hiding in the press until dead of night, and then slipping away. He opened the door; the lock had been forced; the press was empty save for a few bottles of wine. Clearly this would not be a secure refuge; a bottle might be required at any moment. What else could he do? He could open the window—the only glass one in the house—and drop into the street; but he would certainly be seen by the men at the door or by a casual passer-by, though there were few people about at that hour of the evening. Yet no other course suggested itself, and he was moving towards the window when he heard soft footsteps in the passage outside. Quick as thought he sprang behind the open door, listening with thumping heart.
One of the servants passed by on the way to the kitchen. He had left the others at the door to keep watch while he prepared his master's supper. The cloth, Jack noticed, had been left on the table. In a minute or two the man would come into this very room, and Jack must be seen. With nerves tingling he waited, setting his lips as a plan of action was suggested to him by the emergency. Soon he heard the clink of glass. The servant was returning. He came from the kitchen carrying a tray with a glass jug, a tumbler, and a plate. He entered the room, walked to the table, and set the tray upon it. At that moment Jack stepped quietly up to him from behind, brought one arm round over his mouth to stifle any cry, and with the other held the cold barrel of his pistol to the man's temple.
"Keep silent, for your life!" he whispered.
The Chinaman, with fear in his eyes, made no sound or movement, but stood as still as his trembling limbs allowed. Still keeping the pistol pointed at the man's head, Jack quietly closed the door. Then he said:
"I will do you no injury, but your safety and mine require that you should be out of harm's way for a time. I have business with your master. Go into that press. So long as you are quiet and do what you are told, you have nothing to fear. But if you make the slightest sound, that moment will be your last. You understand me?"
He spoke very low and rapidly, but distinctly. The man nodded; there was no mistaking the grim meaning with which this tall foreigner who spoke Chinese fingered the trigger of his revolver. Crossing the room to the press, the Chinaman stepped into it, and Jack closed the door.
He wondered if he could slip out of the house before Sowinski returned. Before long the Pole must discover that the bird had flown; he would realize the hopelessness of searching the whole of Moukden at night for a man disguised as a Chinaman, and, furious as he might be, he would doubtless accept the situation for the moment, and return to his evening meal. Once more Jack was making towards the window when he heard footsteps again, this time approaching from the back of the house; not the shuffling felt soles of Chinese, but the tramp of heavy European boots. At the same moment there came from the street the clatter of several feet marching in time. Jack stepped back from the window. He heard a gruff voice, the voice of Sowinski, say in Russian:
"Sergeant, there is no more to be done. The spy has got away. Inform the sentinels at the gates. He cannot leave the city to-night; we may trap him yet. Report to General Bekovitch; I will see him in the morning. Good-night!"
The sergeant responded, and marched his squad away.
"Where is Ming Fo?" demanded Sowinski of the servants at the door. "Why is he not watching with you?"
"He is preparing your supper, master; we are keeping watch for him."
"You have seen no one pass?"
"No one."
"Very well. Go and get your supper."
[image]Sowinski's Visitor
[image]
[image]
Sowinski's Visitor
Then Jack heard Sowinski's footsteps approaching the room and the two Chinamen shuffling along behind towards the kitchen. His chest heaved; the crisis was at hand.
CHAPTER XIV
A Night with Sowinski
The Persuasive Pistol—A Pass—Thorough—Captain Sinetsky—The Eastern Gate—An Empty Pistol
Jack had intended to deal with the Pole as he had dealt with his servant; but the fact of the two other Chinamen passing the door of the room close on his heels had thrown out his calculations. He could not afford to run the risk of the slightest struggle; it would certainly be heard. He had but an instant to decide on his course.
Behind the door was a chair. To this Jack tiptoed, and he had just seated himself when Sowinski opened the door. The Pole flung his hat on a chair, and moved towards the press, doubtless with the intention of getting a bottle of wine. He almost had his hand on the knob when he became aware, rather by instinct than by perception, of a movement behind him. Jack with his foot had gently swung the door to. Turning sharply round, Sowinski saw the red light of the shaded lamp reflected from the barrel of a pistol in the hand of a young Chinaman seated composedly within five feet of him. For a moment he was motionless; he was too much surprised for speech; a second glance showed him who his visitor was, and Jack, watching him keenly, saw his face go pale. He stood irresolute; the ominous pistol, not held rigidly, but moving gently from side to side, seemed to hold him spell-bound, as the swaying head of a snake fascinates a hare.
"Yes, Mr. Sowinski," said Jack quietly, though his pulse was galloping; "yes, it is I, Jack Brown. You were looking for me? Speak low, or the pistol may go off."
"You would be arrested at once," said the Pole in a hard whisper.
"Possibly, but that would not help you. You would be dead."
Sowinski ground his teeth. Rage and fear struggled for the mastery; but fear, as Jack had calculated, was the stronger. The man's eye never left the barrel.
"First, Mr. Sowinski," continued Jack, rising, and now pointing the revolver steadily at his head; "first, I wish to know where my father is."
"Your father? How should I know? Am I your father's keeper? He was deported."
"You lie!" said Jack, his voice vibrant with anger. "Come, your reply; your life depends on it."
Visibly cowed by Jack's menacing look and tone, the Pole replied sullenly:
"Well, it is true; he was taken to Harbin, to be delivered to General Kriloff."
"And where is he now?"
"I do not know. I swear that is the truth. General Bekovitch——"
"Does he know?"
"I cannot say. I do not know what message he sent to General Kriloff. I have heard nothing of your father since he went away."
"He went in chains; did you know that?"
"Yes," replied the Pole hesitatingly.
"Then where is he? You know that; you know more; a man is sent away in chains, herded with foul criminals; it is your doing; what have you done with him?"
"I don't know; may I never speak again if that is not true. He is probably in the mines."
As he said this, even the imminent pistol could not prevent Sowinski from betraying his rancorous satisfaction in a mocking curl of the lip and a half-suppressed chuckle. Yet Jack felt intuitively that in this case the man was speaking the truth; that he really did not know what had become of his victim after he had seen him safely wedged in the cattle-truck. There was scorn as well as a white heat of anger in Jack's reply.
"You infamous scoundrel! You would be justly served if I shot you where you stand, and for my own part the satisfaction would be worth the risk. But I can't kill even such vermin as you in cold blood; and if I spare you, be sure the day of reckoning is only deferred. There are a thousand Poles waiting to kill the traitor Ladislas Streleszki at sight."
The amazed and wretched man swayed as he stood; his hue turned still more ashen than before; his whole body seemed to shrink together with craven fear.
"Now, choose," continued Jack after a pause. "The pistol, or instant compliance with my demands.—Silence!" He heard the two Chinamen approach the door, and noticed a twitching of the Pole's mouth suggesting a cry for help. The impulse, if impulse it was, was immediately checked by Jack's stern command.
"Send them home."
Sowinski called to the men that they might go; he would require them no more that night.
"Now close the shutters. Thank you! I see pen, ink, and paper on yonder shelf. Seat yourself at the table and write in Russian from my dictation."
The Pole moved mechanically, under the spell of the covering revolver.
"'To Lieutenant-Colonel Gudriloff,'" dictated Jack. "'Please supply bearer, Chang Sin Foo, with a pass for the gates, and two good ponies; debit the charge to my account.' Now sign your name—your present name. That is right. Now, Mr. Sowinski, you have been so obliging that I trust you will excuse what must seem a poor return for your complaisance. But my position in your—that is to say, my father's house, being somewhat delicate, I have no alternative."
The two Chinamen having gone away, Jack no longer subdued his tone. He had the whip hand. Still keeping the revolver steadily pointed at the scowling Pole's head, he stepped to the press and, Sowinski looking on in amazement, called to the Chinese servant to come out. The man was as pale as his master; he was stricken with the very ague of fear.
"You have nothing to fear," said Jack, pitying the fellow. "Do what I tell you quickly. Tear up that cloth." He pointed to the none too clean cover on the table. "Tear it into six strips."
The man tried, but the material was too tough, or his hands too much enfeebled from fright.
"Take the knife, but remember, at the first movement in this direction I will shoot you."
With some difficulty the man did as he was bid.
"Now bind your master's legs—first round the ankles. Quick!"—as the man recoiled before the glare in Sowinski's eyes. Jack jerked up his pistol, and the trembling wretch hastened to obey. The Pole made no resistance; but if looks could have slain, both Jack and the Chinaman would have been killed on the spot.
"Now the arms," said Jack, when, under his supervision, Sowinski's legs had been securely trussed. "No, behind him—not in front: that is right. Now the knees. Now tie the wrists to the ankles. Now a gag; that fur cap will do. We are going to place your master in the press. You take the head; I will take the feet."
Jack felt that he was giving the Chinaman a bare chance to close with him; but the man seeming so cowed, he took the risk, careful, however, to keep the revolver conspicuous. As they lifted the Pole they saw his face distorted with rage and hate. They stood him upright in the press, and closed the door, leaving sufficient space between it and the sides to admit air. Then with a feeling of relief after the tension of his perilous situation, Jack took up the order signed by Sowinski, and was wondering how to dispose of the Chinaman, when there was a loud knock at the outer door, followed immediately by footsteps in the passage. Jack's heart beat violently; he caught a malicious look of triumph in the servant's eyes. But he recovered hissang-froid, and at the same moment made his decision. A voice in Russian was calling for Sowinski; just as the footsteps approached the inner door Jack pushed the Chinaman in front of him.
"Send him away," he whispered. "Remember the pistol."
He had no time for more. The visitor was at the door. It opened.
"Ha, Sowinski!—" said the new-comer, a captain of Cossacks. Then he paused, seeing only two Chinese servants.
"Where is your master?"
"He is away, Excellency," faltered the man; "not at home; he will not be back for some hours." Jack touched his heel to quicken his invention. He continued: "He said he was going first to the Green Dragon, then to the railway-station. He expected to meet a friend. Can I give him any message?"
"It is very annoying," said the officer. "I must see him to-night. The Green Dragon, you say? I will see whether he is there. If he returns, say that Captain Sinetsky called, and that he is to come and see me at my quarters at once."
He turned on his heel and left the house. The tension was relaxed. The immediate danger was past, but Jack saw that his escape was still to be deferred. The captain's look and tone of vexation showed that his business with Sowinski was important. Failing to find the Pole at the hotel he might return himself or send a messenger, and then, if Jack were absent, the prisoner would be discovered and released, and the hue and cry after the disguised Englishman would be hot before he could get his pass and be clear of the city. The gates would not be opened before daybreak. It would hardly be safe to leave the house much earlier. He made up his mind to wait.
Creaking and groaning, the massive gates barring the eastern entrance to Moukden swung back on their hinges; the squatting crowd patiently awaiting the opening awoke to sudden activity; there was a general movement of foot-passengers, chairs, and carts towards the archway. In a moment the rush was checked: a Cossack officer with a dozen sturdy troopers barred the way—one man only might pass at a time, and that after careful scrutiny.
When some two or three score had run the gauntlet, the officer, whose patience seemed to be sorely tried, permitted himself a hearty Russian oath, and growled to the sergeant at his side.
"These Chinese are all alike. What the goodness is the use of asking us to stop—what is it?"—he glanced at a paper in his hand—"'a young Englishman, tall, slim, cleverly disguised as a native'? It's absurd—it's a job for a Chinaman, not for us."
"But, little father, it must be quite easy to recognize an Englishman. They are all red-faced, with long noses, and big teeth, and side whiskers—I have seen pictures of them in the papers in Petersburg. They are ugly, the English—one would know them anywhere."
Captain Vassily Nikolaeitch Kargopol, his feelings relieved by his brief outburst, smiled condescendingly. He recognized the sergeant's description of the familiar continental caricature of John Bull; but as the crowd surged through he had no time for correcting his subordinate's impressions. An old man, riding one pony and leading another, dismounted at the gate as the crowd thinned, and with elaborate kowtows presented his pass. The shadow of a wide-brimmed hat seemed to deepen the wrinkles of his parchment skin; but there was an alert look in the eye, and a nervous energy in the carriage, that told of a spirit still young.
"Pass the bearer, Chang Sin Foo, and two ponies. Gudriloff—Lieutenant-Colonel." The captain read out the instructions, handed back the document, and signed to the Chinaman to proceed. Leading his ponies through the gate, the old man mounted, and rode slowly on. A mile out he quickened his pace, and struck off into a side track winding towards the hills that bounded the horizon north, south, and east. As he left the main road, the more rapid movement jolted a pistol from the folds of his voluminous garments. He glanced back and saw it lying on the track, but did not check his pace, though an odd smile disturbed the wrinkles of his mouth.
"It's a good job," he muttered in unmistakable English—"a jolly good job, Sowinski didn't know it wasn't loaded!"
CHAPTER XV
Cossack and Chunchuse
The Road in China—A Change of View—Looking Ahead—A Cold Welcome—Beleaguered—The Part of Prudence—Smoke—Beaten Back—The Water Supply—An Inspiration—Ch'hoy!
At Hsien-chia-kou the strangely young old man with the two ponies met not only the guide punctually furnished by Ah Lum's agent, but also Mr. Hi and his son. The compradore explained that after what had happened he no longer felt safe in his little cottage, and had made up his mind to join his brother in Harbin and do what he could there to further the enquiries for Mr. Brown. As for Hi Lo, the boy had for the first time shown a most reprehensible and unfilial spirit of disobedience. He had declared that the Toitsche genelum's service, now that Sin Foo had left, had no further attraction for him. If he must serve someone, it should be Mr. Chack Blown; and he would much rather serve Mr. Chack Blown than accompany his father to Harbin, for he did not like his Aunt Feng.
Jack laughed.
"Let him come with me, Mr. Hi. He saved those papers so cleverly that I think a great deal of him, and I'll really be glad to have him with me."
The compradore would not oppose his young master's express wish; accordingly, Jack, when he rode off, had two companions.
Jack had learnt from his guide that Ah Lum's camp was situated in the hills south of Kirin, at a point many miles due north of the spot where he had left the chief. He had before him, therefore, a journey of nearly three hundred miles. Fortunately the rainy season was past; a few days of brilliant sunshine and bustling winds had worked a marvellous transformation. The road that only recently had been a pulp of liquid mud was now thick with soft brown blinding dust, clouds of which were blown by the north-easter full in the travellers' faces, covering them from head to foot. Unpleasant as this was, it was less troublesome than the continual assaults of midges which Jack had suffered on his previous journey. The autumn air, already nipping out of the sunshine, had annihilated these pests, and the only trouble of a similar kind that Jack experienced was from some black ants whose nest his pony disturbed, and which bit with terrible ferocity.
For more than a week the three riders pursued their journey almost without incident. After the first few days they came into a country of hill and forest, broken by richly cultivated valleys and large swift streams. They had to climb ridges, to cross ravines, to ford rivers, sometimes fording the same river a score of times, so serpentine were its windings. Here and there were settlers' huts, where they found scanty accommodation, but a warm welcome; here and there also a hillside inn, at which they spent the night on the floor of a tiny room, with perhaps a dozen Chinamen packed like sardines in a box on the k'ang above them.
During these days and nights Jack had many opportunities of thinking over his position. He wondered sometimes whether the course he had decided on was the best he could have taken; but his ponderings always converged to the same point—that his only chance of obtaining news of his father and procuring his liberation lay in remaining in Russian or Russo-Chinese territory. For himself, hunted and outlawed as he was, capture might well mean death, and nowhere was he so likely to be safe as among the Chunchuses. But he saw that in seeking an asylum among them he was in a sense casting in his lot with the enemies of Russia and espousing their quarrel. That consideration gave him food for thought. He had no concern with the great struggle then in progress. It was nothing to him whether Manchuria became the spoil of either Russia or Japan. Up to the time of his father's arrest, indeed, his sympathies had inclined to the Russian side. He had made many friends among the Russians during his stay in Moukden, especially among the engineers and officials connected with the railway. He had found them amiable, courteous, and singularly free from what, for want of a better word, the Englishman calls "side". Of the Japanese, on the other hand, he knew almost nothing. His impressions of the few he had met in the course of business were not wholly favourable, which was perhaps little to be wondered at, for the trading classes of Japan, with whom alone Mr. Brown had had relations, were only just beginning to emerge from the condition of a despised and, it must be admitted, despicable caste. Japanese of the Samurai class looked down on a merchant with far more disdain than an English aristocrat shows towards a petty tradesman; and it would have seemed incredible to them that an English marquis should become a coal merchant or a dairyman. It was natural enough that a class thus despised should not be greatly hampered with self-respect; and their business methods did not commend themselves to Mr. Brown, with whom, as with every British merchant, his word was as good as his bond.
But the black sheep whom Jack had come across recently had brought about a change in his feeling towards the Russians generally. He saw them now as grasping adventurers, and the Chunchuses as patriots waging a lawful warfare against invasion and oppression. He had no very kindly feeling for the men who were treating his father with such abominable injustice. He did not disguise from himself that in joining the Chunchuses he could not remain a passive spectator of the struggle. He must be prepared to identify himself completely with the fortunes of Ah Lum's band, and become to all intents and purposes as lawless a brigand as themselves, But he hoped it would not be for long. If the tide of success upon which the Japanese arms had been borne from victory to victory did not turn, the Russian domination must ere long be shattered, and in some vague undefined way he felt that the fortunes of his quest were bound up with the discomfiture of the Russians. But in thus throwing in his lot with their enemies he reserved one point: he would steadily refuse to have any part in such excesses as were from time to time reported of the Chunchuses. It was likely enough that as a very unimportant individual, incurably a "foreign devil", he would be laughed to scorn for his scruples by Ah Lum. The custom of torturing prisoners was so deeply rooted in Chinese methods of warfare that Ah Lum, even if he so desired, might be unable to control his followers and prevent atrocity when they were not under his immediate observation. This would make it difficult for Jack to remain with them; but he put the matter from his thoughts: he would not meet difficulties half-way.
Now and again, as with his guide and Hi Lo he passed through isolated villages, he heard of small bodies of Cossacks having been seen in their vicinity. From the general talk at inns and farmhouses he gathered that the Russians, alarmed for their communications after the battle of Liao-yang, were about to make a serious attempt to deal with Ah Lum and one or two other Chunchuse chiefs who threatened the railway between Harbin and Vladivostok. The Cossack parties whose movements the villagers reported, were presumably scouting to ascertain the exact position of Ah Lum's band preparatory to a concerted attempt to entrap him.
One afternoon, as they climbed a rugged slope towards a village nestling among trees at the top, the travellers heard the rattle of musketry in the distance, and saw a couple of Russian horsemen riding away in the direction whence the sound came. At first Jack thought of avoiding the village altogether, and making a detour; but he had been riding since early morning over difficult country, the sun had been hot, and he was very hungry; so that after consulting with his guide he decided to go on, the man thinking there was as great a risk of encountering Russians the one way as the other. They proceeded, therefore, but cautiously, keeping a sharp look-out. The guide knew the headman of the village; if he could get speech with him they might obtain useful information.
Firing could still be heard fitfully; it was impossible to tell how far away, but it seemed at a considerable distance from the village. When they entered the street, they came upon a knot of villagers in voluble discussion. They were instantly the object of a narrow scrutiny; but the guide had already marked his friend the headman among the group, and called him by name. The man came forward to meet the riders; the guide explained in a sentence that he wished to have some private talk with him, and he at once led the way to his house.
Thinking that frankness was here the best policy, Jack asked his guide to explain briefly who he was and what had brought him to the village. The headman was perturbed, almost incensed, when he heard the story. He had suffered already from depredations by the brigands; if the Russians knew that he had harboured a fugitive, he could only expect to suffer even more seriously at their hands. And there was great danger that they would discover the new-comers' presence. A squadron of Cossacks about two hundred strong was at that moment besieging some fifty Chunchuses in a farm three miles away. The brigands had been shut in for three days, and it was expected that they must yield shortly, perhaps before another day was past. The owner of the farm had come into the village when the Chunchuses appeared. He said that there was plenty of grain in his barns; the brigands could not be starved; but the water supply was likely to give out. The farm being situated less than half a mile from a river, the store of water kept in it was only sufficient for his family and servants, and could not meet the requirements of the company of Chunchuses, to say nothing of their horses. Behind the walls they might succeed in keeping the Russians at bay unless artillery were brought against them; but lack of water must inevitably cause them to surrender. They had made a good fight; the besiegers had lost a good many men; two Cossacks had come into the village only a short time before Jack's arrival, with orders to the headman to prepare quarters for the wounded. But they so greatly outnumbered the defenders that they could afford to lose heavily without seriously reducing the odds in their favour; and, taught by experience, they would probably not attempt to storm the place, but would sit down and leave its reduction to the work of time.
These explanations were given by the headman, who concluded by earnestly entreating Jack and his companions to depart. If the Cossacks suspected that any of the villagers had been in relations with the brigands they would certainly burn every house in the place, and in all likelihood slaughter the inhabitants. Jack sympathized with the man in his terror; he said at once that the village should suffer no harm through him; and after buying a little food to carry him to the next stage, he rode out with his two companions.
But the news he had just heard was not of a kind to pass unconsidered. He was on his way to join Ah Lum's band; it was a part of that band that was now in such desperate straits, and he felt a personal interest in their fate. Word had been sent to Ah Lum, as the headman had informed him; but Ah Lum was at least two days' march away, and another two days must pass before help could come from him, even if he found himself in a position to send assistance. If this siege of the farm were a part of an organized movement against the Chunchuses, it was not unlikely that Ah Lum himself was hard pressed.
Jack was in a quandary. Prudence bade him press on without delay; the convoy with the Russian wounded was no doubt already on the way to the village, and might meet him or cross his path at any moment. But he felt an overpowering curiosity, natural in one of his active spirit, to see for himself the place where the brigands were so stoutly keeping up a fight against odds; and his curiosity was reinforced by another motive: the desire to see whether there was any possibility of their escaping from their peril. He felt the natural impulse of youth to "do something", even though he recognized how hopeless it was to imagine that he, with but two companions, could intervene between the Chunchuses and their fate. Still, the impulse was overmastering; he must see with his own eyes how they were situated; and having availed himself of Ah Lum's protection in placing himself in the hands of his agent, he thought it his duty not to leave the neighbourhood without at least assuring himself that rescue was out of the question.
He announced his intention of riding to the farm. His guide vigorously protested; it was absurd, he said, to go into the very jaws of danger; much better hurry on and reach safety with the chief.
"And what would Mr. Ah think of you if he heard that?"
"But I don't know the way, master."
"No matter. The firing was to our right; we saw the way the Cossacks went; no doubt the wounded will come the same way, so we must avoid that; but if we work round gradually under cover of that copse yonder, we shall be going in the right direction. They're firing again. You will come with me," he added sternly, divining an inclination to bolt, "or you will no longer be Mr. Ah's man, and you know what that means."
The three turned off to the right, skirting the beech plantation of which Jack had spoken, the guide resigned but sullen. It was now about five o'clock in the afternoon; in an hour and a half it would be dark. Riding cautiously, keeping a keen look-out on all sides for signs of the Russians, they gradually made their way across country, guided by the firing that was still heard at intervals. They were crossing a hilltop some three miles from the village they had left behind, when Hi Lo suddenly declared that he saw smoke in the distance.
"You have sharp eyes," said Jack. "We had better dismount. Being on the sky-line we shall be easily seen if the Russians look this way. Let us hope they are giving their whole attention to the farm."
They tied up their ponies to trees some distance from the hill-path they had been following. Jack wished to leave Hi Lo in charge of the animals, but the boy pleaded hard to be allowed to accompany his master.
"Masta say-lo my hab plenty good look-see. My walkee long-side masta; plaps my can helpum masta."
"Very well. Now show me where you saw the smoke."
The boy pointed to a hollow nearly a mile away, where at first Jack could see nothing but fields of hay and over-ripe kowliang. The smoke of course had now disappeared; but, following Hi Lo's finger, Jack presently saw the dull mud-coloured walls of a farm enclosure, barely distinguishable from the brownish vegetation around. A moment later Hi Lo's keen glance lighted upon the low shelter-tents of the Russian encampment, some distance to the left of the farm, apparently situated in a field, recently cropped, near the bank of the river, of which a few yards could be seen. Not a man was in sight; but beyond the camp was a clump of brushwood, at the edge of which Jack fancied he saw the black forms of two or three horses. Probably the rest were tethered in the copse.
As Jack and his two companions, standing motionless on the hilltop, looked across the valley they suddenly saw a score of men rush out from the tall kowliang in which they had been concealed, and dash forward against the far corner of the wall surrounding the farm. At the same moment, from the fields around puffs of smoke were seen rising in the air, and a few moments later the sharp rattle of musketry, like the sudden shooting of pebbles from a cart, reached their ears. But the defenders had not been caught napping. A withering fire met the Russians as they charged up the slight slope leading to the farm; only a few gained the crest, and these fell to the Chunchuses, who all at once appeared as by magic in the courtyard. The survivors hesitated for a moment; then they turned and plunged into cover of the long grass and kowliang. In a few seconds every man had disappeared from view; peace reigned over the scene; there was nothing to show that the farm was the centre of a bitter struggle.
But for the scarcity of water Jack had little doubt from what he had seen that the Chunchuses would be able to hold their own indefinitely against the Cossacks, unless siege operations of a regular kind were adopted. He could see no trace of trenches, such as, with their numerical advantage, the besiegers could easily have constructed if they had been so minded and possessed the requisite knowledge. But they were a mounted force, unused, no doubt, to any tactics but the simple Cossack evolutions. The average Russian soldier has little adaptability. The construction of trenches is not a horseman's business; it would not enter the head of a Cossack captain to employ a device so far removed from his routine. Yet with the aid of a trench the besiegers could make short work of the Chunchuse defences, which consisted simply of the mud wall surrounding the farm, and the farm itself—a thatched cottage with byres and pig-sties adjacent, flimsy structures at the best.
Under cover of the tall shrubs that crowned the hill, Jack looked long and searchingly at the beleaguered farm. He tried to picture the defenders within the walls, hoping for relief, watching the inch-fall of their water supply, tantalized by the sight of the full stream flowing so near, and yet as distant as though it were in another continent. To Jack it appeared that there was no chance whatever of doing anything to assist the Chunchuses, among whom doubtless were men whom he had seen in Ah Lum's camp. He asked the guide whether he could suggest a way. The man replied that the only course was to hurry on and inform Ah Lum of the desperate position of his men. Inasmuch as a messenger had gone on the same errand two days before, the guide's suggestion was not very helpful. And Jack was possessed of the feeling that to act thus would be equivalent to leaving the trapped band in the lurch, a thing that went very much against the grain. Yet what else could he do? If he could give no help in the actual, pressing emergency, there was nothing to gain by remaining on the scene—not only nothing to gain but everything to lose, for he would run the risk of being snapped up by the Cossacks.
"There's no help for it, I suppose," he said half-aloud. Very unwillingly he turned his back on the farm, and retraced his steps down the hillside towards the copse where the ponies were tethered. Just before the farm was wholly shut from his sight by the crest of the hill, he turned again and swept the country with his eye, as though to take a last look at the scene of an approaching tragedy. It happened that in his movements upon the hill he had reached a point where a somewhat different view was obtainable, and he now noticed for the first time, half a mile away to his left, an open space in which a group of men, Russians no doubt, were busy around a number of tripods with big cauldrons suspended. Smoke was rising from one or two; the men were evidently lighting fires to prepare their evening meal.
"Strange," thought Jack, "that the cooking place should be so far from the shelter-tents and horses. It must be nearly half a mile from the farm. Do the troops march to the food, I wonder, or is the food carried to the troops? Probably the former. But why so far away?"
Even as the question occurred to him the answer flashed upon his mind—and not only the answer, but a possible means of doing what he so much longed to do. Was it possible? He felt his pulse quicken at the mere thought. The dusk was fast gathering over the scene; the farm and its surroundings must soon be shut altogether from his gaze; before that came about, he must take one more look. Bidding Hi Lo and the guide remain where they were, he went back to his former post of observation, moving very carefully so as not to be seen from the quarter where he had not previously suspected the presence of an enemy. Once more he scanned the landscape; then he returned to the two Chinese, who looked at him questioningly, wondering at the change of expression on his face.
"Back to the ponies!" he said briefly. As they went they saw the glow of the Russians' fires in the glooming sky. The sight brought a smile to Jack's lips, but he said nothing to his expectant companions. They found the ponies where they had left them; they took from the saddles the food brought from the village—a little rice, some bean sprouts, and a small heap of monkey-nuts, all that they had been able to get at short notice. As they munched their frugal meal Jack could not but wish for five minutes by the steaming cooking-pots on the other side of the hill. When their hunger was satisfied, and the dusk had deepened into night, Jack suddenly looked up from the brown study in which he had appeared to be absorbed and said:
"Now, listen to me."
His two companions listened with all their ears; Hi Lo soon became restless with excitement; the guide, though his Chinese stolidity was not so easily broken through, at length gave utterance to the exclamation "Ch'hoy!" which signifies approbation or disdain, pleasure or misgiving, according to the inflection of the voice. What Jack had to say took some time; it was quite dark when he finished; then he got up.
"Remember," he said, "not a movement nor a sound. Do exactly as I have told you; then make for this spot again."
Then he slipped away into the darkness.
Slowly, with infinite caution, he crossed the brow of the hill, struck off towards the right, and descended the slope on the opposite side. It was so dark that he had no fear of being seen; but, his view of the camp fires being intercepted by the hill, he could not make sure of his direction, and knew that at any moment he might stumble upon a sentry. The only chance of escape for the Chunchuses being to take advantage of the darkness, he had no doubt that the Russians would keep the strictest watch at night. He had to guess his way; he was going to the farm.