CHAPTER XIV'MY BROTHER!'The two friends sat for a long time discussing their situation. The problem of escape was a thorny one. The yamen was at some distance from the landing-stage, and the labyrinth of narrow ways by which Burroughs had come to it would puzzle anybody but a Chinaman acquainted with the town. Even if they contrived to elude the sentinels they might easily lose their way, especially in darkness--and they had already come to the conclusion that only by night could they hope to reach the river safely. The appearance of two Europeans in a town where there were no European residents would at once attract a curious crowd, and detection must be inevitable. And the first step of all, the escape from the room in which they were, was itself at present utterly baffling. Time was of the utmost importance. Su Fing might return any day; it was scarcely possible that a man whose mental powers were attested by the passing of so many examinations would be imposed on as the simple Chung Pi had been; and there was no knowing what summary methods he might use in dealing with the two Englishmen to whom he owed a grudge.Burroughs examined the bars of the window. They were so deeply imbedded in the masonry that to loosen them within a reasonable time seemed a hopeless undertaking. The chances of succeeding in a rush through the doorway, when the door was opened, seemed slight. Burroughs had his revolver; Errington was unarmed; and though Chin Tai, who was waiting without to act as interpreter between Chung Pi and his German visitor, had his knife, it was not very likely that Burroughs and he could overpower the four sentinels on guard at the door. Even if they were taken by surprise, the sound of the scuffle would quickly bring up others from the gates and courtyards between the room and the outer wall. The more they thought of the problem, the more thoroughly were they convinced that violent measures were doomed to failure; they must have recourse to stratagem. But puzzle as they might, neither had the glimmering of a notion what the first move in the game must be.They were so deeply immersed in talk that they did not notice the flight of time, and both were surprised when the door was opened, and a Chinese cook brought in their breakfast."Rice and beans again, I suppose!" said Errington, with a groan. "I've had nothing else."An idea occurred to Burroughs."Take care not to seem friendly with me," he said, twirling his moustache--Reinhardt's moustache!--and turning his back on Errington with true Germanic disdain. "Hai! Chin Tai, tell these fellows that I demand to see the captain at once."He had some doubt whether his demand would be acceded to, but Chung Pi had apparently anticipated something of the sort, for one of the sentinels called up a man from the courtyard, and sent him with the message to the captain.When Chung Pi appeared, it was evident that he was much amused. He laughed as he spoke to Chin Tai."He say massa hab catchee too plenty muchee plison," said Chin Tai."It's all very well," said Burroughs, frowning haughtily. "I asked you to arrest me, for form's sake, but I didn't say I'd agree to be starved. Is this the fare to put before a German? It is good enough for the Englishman, but it won't do for me."He glanced scornfully at Errington, who, taking the cue, assumed an air of dejection and humility."I am sorry," said Chung Pi contritely. "It was a mere oversight on my part. The cook naturally provided for the second prisoner as for the first. He did not know of the understanding between your honourable excellency and my unworthy self. I will at once have a dinner prepared worthy of your august eminence.""That is well," said Burroughs. "When I have finished my meal, I shall give myself the pleasure of showing to you the boat which lies at the landing-stage.""I must sleep a little first," said Chung Pi. "I have eaten so many melon seeds that my belt is exceedingly tight.""At any time your excellency pleases," said Burroughs, with a bow.The captain retired, after giving orders to the cook. Presently the servant returned, bringing a right royal feast--pickled duck's eggs, bean curd, pork patties, chopped cucumber, millet cakes soaked in treacle, fried cabbage--all very tastily dressed, together with water melons and tea.As soon as the door was shut, the two prisoners fell to with a will."You'll want something better than rice and beans if we're to have any bother," said Burroughs. "This is very good; I only wish they didn't use quite so much garlic and oil."When they had finished their dinner, Burroughs knocked at the door, and ordered Chin Tai, who meanwhile had had to satisfy himself with rice, to let the captain know that he was ready. It was some time before Chung Pi appeared, cracking and eating melon seeds. What explanation he gave to the sentinels of his indulgence to the second prisoner, or whether he condescended to give any explanation at all, Burroughs never knew. He accompanied Chung Pi to the outer gate, where chairs were waiting, and when they had entered these antiquated vehicles, each was lifted by four chai-jen or yamen runners, and carried through crooked and unsavoury streets, too narrow to admit of more than one passing at a time, down to the landing-stage. Two chai-jen went in advance, clearing a way with their sticks through the crowd. Chin Tai followed.Lo San's face beamed at the sight of "Massa Bullows." He had begun to fear that some mishap had befallen him, and saw another beating in prospect.Burroughs invited the captain to step into the hydroplane, but Chung Pi excused himself with many apologies, regretting that the present state of his health--by which Burroughs understood a surfeit of melon seeds--rendered it inadvisable for him to undergo any excitement. Leaving Chin Tai on the landing-stage, as a guarantee of good faith, Burroughs accordingly embarked alone, and for the space of a quarter of an hour or so exhibited the qualities of the vessel as a hydroplane, skimming up and down the river at full speed. Its flying powers, however, he refrained from showing.Chung Pi was so much impressed and delighted with the marvellous vessel that he overcame his squeamishness, and consented to try a short trip up-stream. A few miles above the town, Burroughs caught sight of a small launch coming down swiftly on the current, and ran up to meet it, intending to turn and race it, with the object of still further impressing the captain. But in a few moments Lo San, interpreting a sentence of his passenger, informed him that the launch was one of Su Fing's dispatch boats, and was probably bringing a message from the chief to Chung Pi.Feeling somewhat alarmed, Burroughs slowed down, and ran the hydroplane alongside the launch. A sashed and turbaned officer on deck shouted a greeting to Chung Pi, and told him that Su Fing was now on his way down the river with the bulk of his force, and might be expected to arrive before sunset."He say you velly happy this time," Lo San interpreted. "Su Fing he come look-see boat, say he velly good, numpa one boat."Burroughs was anything but happy. He forced a smile, but felt most unphilosophically irritated when the ends of Reinhardt's moustache tickled his cheeks. He listened unheeding to the monotonous voice of Lo San translating the encomiums passed by Chung Pi on the admirable vessel, and steered mechanically down-stream towards Meichow, whither the captain said they must return at once in order to make preparations for Su Fing's fitting reception. Sufficiently alive to the necessity of sparing petrol, he did not drive the vessel at full speed, much to the disappointment of Chung Pi, who was looking forward to a dashing reappearance before the eyes of the thousands of admiring spectators now, beyond doubt, congregated at the riverside.The imminent return of Su Fing threatened to put a bar to any plan that might be evolved for releasing Errington. As yet, think as hard as he might, Burroughs had been quite unable to form any likely scheme. On the way down the river he bent his brains exclusively on the problem, blind to the probability that Chung Pi might become suspicious of his lack of exhilaration at the prospect of a speedy meeting with the chief. The more he puzzled, the more hopeless the situation appeared. He knew that the coming of Su Fing would draw the whole population into the narrow contorted alley-ways that served as streets, so that, even if he got Errington out of the yamen, the chances of gaining the landing-stage undetected were naught. He tried to think of some means of persuading Chung Pi to bring Errington to the hydroplane; indeed, he ventured to hint that it would be a fine thing to meet the chief far up the river, and offer the prisoner to him as a sort of slave to grace his triumph. But Chung Pi would not hear of it. He objected that the orders he had received were strict: the Englishman was to be closely guarded; and it was as much as his rank was worth to disobey commands so explicit. Burroughs would not excite suspicion by pressing the point; and, indeed, he liked the fat simpleton so well as to wish to avoid getting him into hot water.Thus uneasy, depressed, more nervous than he had ever been in his life before, he was running towards the landing-stage, not giving a glance beyond, when an exclamation from Lo San caused him to lift his eyes. Then he saw something that shot a cold shiver through him. This was the last straw. A quarter of a mile beyond the landing-stage, coming round a bend in the river, was the nose of a launch which he instantly recognized as Reinhardt's. It would reach the stage about the same time as his own vessel. The game was up! Reinhardt was certainly on board; the launch had never been seen on the river without him. He would certainly betray the pseudo-German. There had never been any love lost between them. They had parted in anger. And with a man of Reinhardt's temperament the "rape of the lock," the explanation of which would flash upon him the moment he caught sight of it adorning Burroughs' lip, would supply the fiercest motive for revenge.Burroughs turned his head away from Chung Pi; he could no longer keep up the forced smile, which he felt must have become an awful grimace. Always a little slow of thought, he did not remember, for a moment or two, that in his story to Chung Pi he had unwittingly provided himself with an avenue of safety. All at once the recollection flashed upon him: he was Lieutenant Eitel Reinhardt, of the gunboatKaiser Wilhelm. The moustacheless German was his brother!"My brother! my brother!" he shouted excitedly.Lo San looked at him in amazement. Was his master mad? Then he, too, remembered."My honourable master's brother," he exclaimed to Chung Pi.The captain's broad face gleamed with interest and satisfaction. This new arrival was the very man who had arranged the gifts for Su Fing, whom his brother had so unfortunately missed, of whose money he himself had a hundred dollars safely tucked into his pouch."Brothers are as double cherries," he said. "The coming of your august relative is as the shining of the morning sun on the closed petals of a rose."Burroughs bowed as Lo San translated, feeling that another word would make him shout with maniacal laughter. With a turn of the wrist he ran the boat alongside the landing-stage, just a second or two before the launch came up at the farther end. With Chung Pi he stepped off, observing that Reinhardt was standing at his gangway, waiting for his heavier and more cumbersome vessel to be brought alongside. And almost wishing that the planks might part, and plunge him into the water and oblivion, he walked forward to meet his fate.CHAPTER XVREINHARDT IN THE TOILSBurroughs and the smiling captain were still some few yards away from Reinhardt's gangway; Reinhardt was staring with puzzled curiosity at the tall German with the moustache so like his own lost treasure; when Burroughs whispered to Lo San--"Say to the captain: 'That is the launch, but where is my brother? My brother wears a moustache like mine. Do not the English shave the lip? Ask him who he is.'"Chung Pi was a horse-boy turned captain; like many great men sprung from humble origin, he was apt to stand upon his dignity. Advancing towards the stranger as he stepped on to the landing-stage, he introduced himself with a grave pomposity, and asked Reinhardt to what Meichow owed the honour of his visit.The German's eyes were fixed in a puzzled stare on Burroughs, who had taken off his cap as in respectful salutation. The close-cropped hair, the pencilled eyebrows, the stiff perpendicularity of his waxed moustache-ends, had so much altered his appearance that Reinhardt, though he felt that he had seen him somewhere before, did not recognize him. Germanic though his aspect was, there was a nameless something about him that put Reinhardt on his guard. Turning to Chung Pi, he replied courteously, in Chinese, that he was a German employed by his government to keep in touch with the august Su Fing, and that his honourable questioner without doubt knew the name of Reinhardt as a friend and ally of his chief.Lo San was quick-witted. He saw that there was no time to translate the conversation to Burroughs, and for the moment held his peace. Burroughs could only stand in a commanding attitude with folded arms, accusation in his frown. He bethought himself of his moustache, and gave it a cautious twirl. And all the time he wished with desperate anxiety that he could understand what Reinhardt was saying.Chung Pi looked at the German with fatuous indecision. Burroughs felt that another moment might seal his fate. He was beating his brains for a possible move if his stratagem failed, when Lo San interrupted Reinhardt as he was asking whether Su Fing had returned to the town."You see, honourable captain," he said, "that this man who calls himself a German has no moustache!"And now the pen of the narrator fails: only a gramophone and a cinematograph could faithfully record the scene. Imagine the three men: the magnified horse-boy, bewildered between a furious German, shouting in Chinese, and a calm but quaking Englishman, standing like a judge about to condemn; with a shrill-voiced China boy at his side, screaming into Chung Pi's very ear; the men on the landing-stage gaping; the motley crowd at the shoreward end watching keenly, like the spectators at a boxing-match. Chung Pi, Reinhardt, Lo San, were all talking at once. Reinhardt, incoherent with rage, yelled "I am a German." Chung Pi asked him not to shout. Lo San, determined to make himself heard, screamed "He is an Englishman. As your excellency knows, the friend of Su Fing wears a moustache; it is the custom in his country; look at my august master."Chung Pi, a peasant beneath his uniform, was slow, tenacious and pig-headed. He had seen Reinhardt once or twice, and carried away an impression of a moustache and little more. If this was Reinhardt, where was the moustache? He felt that he was being played with--he, the lieutenant of Su Fing, was bemocked by a man whose upper lip was even cleaner than that of the Englishman in the yamen. And when Burroughs, taking advantage of Reinhardt's vociferous abuse, whispered to Lo San to suggest that the man should be put with the other Englishman, and Lo San yelled the suggestion into the captain's ear, Chung Pi's simple mind was made up. Beckoning to some of his ruffians who stood expectantly by, he ordered them to seize the pig of an Englishman and carry him to the yamen. The chief should deal with him.For a few seconds a whirling mass gyrated at the edge of the landing-stage. The centre of it was Conrad Reinhardt; the circumference was formed by a dozen Chinese legs. Yells of rage and derision arose from the variegated crowd of spectators as they watched the supposed Englishman--as much as they could see of him--struggling in the grasp of the spearmen. The scuffle ceased as suddenly as it had begun. Reinhardt appeared to bethink himself of his dignity. He made no further resistance, but allowed the insurgents to lead him away.That procession is probably a cherished memory in Meichow to this day. It was led by the lictors--if the ragged ruffians may be dignified with that name for the nonce--who thrust back the shouting people that flocked from every alley to see the sight. Then came the prisoner amid the spearmen. A few paces behind marched the two sets of chairmen, carrying Burroughs and Chung Pi, with Chin Tai stepping beside. More spearmen brought up the rear. Lo San had returned to the hydroplane.At the gate of the yamen Burroughs got out of his chair and approached that of the captain, beckoning Chin Tai forward to interpret."Your honourable presence," he said, "has no doubt great preparations to make for the reception of the august Su Fing. I feel that it would ill beseem me to take up more of your time. For myself, I think I ought to follow the prisoner. Who knows what conspiracy he may not hatch with the other if I am not there to keep an eye on them!""But you may be in danger from their violence," said Chung Pi. "You saw how the Englishman fought and kicked.""Yes, he behaved very badly," replied Burroughs; "but with four of your brave warriors outside the door, the prisoners would not dare to molest me."And with ceremonious salutations they parted.Meanwhile Reinhardt had been marched through the courtyards, and taken to the room where Errington was wondering anxiously what had happened to his friend. The door was thrown open, and the German thrust inside. The spearmen reported by and by to their captain that on entering the room, the new prisoner advanced towards the other, holding out his hand, and saying some few words of greeting. The first prisoner neither took his hand nor replied to him. Chung Pi had sufficient intelligence to explain this incident satisfactorily to himself. The new-comer was undoubtedly English. He had recognized the prisoner, who, however, was more prudent, and pretended not to know him. Chung Pi plumed himself on his sagacity, and basked in the anticipated light of Su Fing's countenance when he should return and find two birds in his cage.Reinhardt had made up his mind, while walking up to the yamen, to accept with as good a grace as possible the temporary inconvenience which he owed to the loss of his moustache--also temporary: he felt his upper lip, and discovered proofs of a new crop. By keeping his temper under control he would give himself the best chance of dealing with circumstances as they arose. Of course, when Su Fing returned all would be set right; and he promised himself that the ass of a captain who had so stupidly mistaken him should have cause to regret his imbecility. But he was a good deal puzzled. Who was this man, ostensibly a German, who had stood by indifferent while a compatriot of his own was being shamed? And who was the Chinaman who had uttered such abominable things about him? He was something like Lo San, Errington's boy. And then a light flashed upon him: itwasLo San; Errington, he knew, had been captured; no doubt he was the "other Englishman" who had been mentioned; and the whole affair was a plot on Lo San's part to bring his master and Reinhardt together, in the hope that the German might be persuaded to plead for him with the chief.This thought comforted Reinhardt. Lo San was evidently a clever fellow; and as Errington's career was of course ended, his boy would probably be quite willing to enter the service of a new master. The German was therefore prepared, when he was pushed forward into the room, to find Errington waiting with open arms to receive him.He was surprised when Errington refused to speak to him."Come, my friend," he said, "zis is not kind. Here am I, come at great cost to serve you, and you cut me! Zere is some big mistake; ze fool of a captain supposes me to be English, and makes me a prisoner. We are two prisoners togezer. Zis is not ze time for coldness between friends. Wizout you, I should not be here at zis moment." Reinhardt was unaware how truly he had spoken. "You owe me much. But you are young, and like many young men, you do not know your best friends."Errington, on his part, was thoroughly amazed when he saw Reinhardt enter the room. Hearing footsteps outside the door, he had expected to see Burroughs again. The entrance of a man whom, after his recent interview with Burroughs, he distrusted and despised gave him a shock. Instinctively he refused him his hand. But now, at the German's explanation, strange as it was, he began to wonder whether he had not done him a double injustice. Perhaps the man had repented of his refusal of Burroughs' appeal, and after all had come up the river to his assistance.He was wavering, on the point of asking Reinhardt whether he had seen Burroughs, when the German began to speak again."Yes, when your own countrymen do nozink for you, behold me, a German, putting my head into ze lion's mouse on your behalf. I ask you, why should I do so? You owe me five hundred dollars: bah! I zink nozink of zat. You are to me nozink but a friend----""And a servant of your firm," Errington blurted out, resenting the reference to his debt, and desperately uneasy now that it was clear that Burroughs and the German had not met."Not so," said Reinhardt complacently. "Zere is no reason why I should come to help you--nozink but friendship. You are no longer employed by my firm."This took Errington's breath away. He listened in stony silence as Reinhardt proceeded."Zey pay you zree munce salary instead of notice. I have ze cheque in my pocket. Now you see what a friend I am, when you are no longer wiz me in business, and owe me five hundred dollars. Which is ze friend, Conrad Reinhardt, or Burroughs, ze man what preach, ze man who is what you call a smug, who eats and drinks merry when his old friend is----"Errington could stand no more. Springing to his feet, he hit out a swinging blow that sent the German spinning across the room.Reinhardt's hand flew to his breast pocket. He whipped out a revolver, and was taking a snapshot at Errington when his arm was struck up from behind; the weapon exploded harmlessly, and next moment was wrenched from his grasp and flung across the room. Unseen, unheard, Burroughs had quietly entered the room and taken in the situation at a glance.No word had been spoken. While a man might count three there was a dead silence in the room. Then Burroughs, stepping to the still open door, confronted the sentinels and Chin Tai, who were pressing forward, alarmed by the shot."Bind that man!" cried Burroughs, pointing to the German, now slowly rising to his feet.[image]ERRINGTON HITS OUTThere was no hesitation among the men. They understood by this time that the supposed detention of Burroughs was only a move in their chief's policy. They did not understand it, but it was no affair of theirs. There were no ropes at hand, but they stripped off their cummerbunds; and in a few minutes Reinhardt, glowering from Burroughs to Errington, and from Errington to Burroughs, lay on the floor, trussed with bonds of yellow and red.CHAPTER XVIA LITTLE LUNCHEON PARTY"What's the row, Pidge?" asked Burroughs, when the sentinels and Chin Tai had been dismissed, and the door closed behind them."Oh, he'd been telling a heap of lies, and when he started abusing you, I knocked him down."Reinhardt started when he heard Burroughs speak in his natural voice. The disguise as it were fell off: his vague misgiving was justified; the cropped hair, the thickened eyebrows, the upturned moustache, no longer imposed upon him, and he writhed in his bonds.Burroughs gave him a contemptuous stare."I don't care, personally," he said very quietly, "what lies you tell about me. There never has been any love lost between us. All I regret is that, among Chinamen, I should have had to treat a European--even such a European as you are--with such indignity. But you've brought it on yourself. You're a dangerous man. You're in league with these rebels; I know it, you needn't protest; in spite of that, in spite of my appeal to you, you wouldn't move a finger in Errington's behalf. I must treat you as an enemy--a secret enemy, and take the precautions that fit the case. Errington and I have matters to discuss, and owing to the action of your friends the rebels, we have to discuss them here. Your company has been forced upon us, so I'll take the liberty of relieving you from the necessity of overhearing our conversation.""I protest," the German began, blusteringly. "I don't want to hear your conversation. Speak in ze corner; whisper."Burroughs paid him no attention, but opened the door and called to Chin Tai."Stuff up Mr. Reinhardt's ears," he said.Chin Tai produced a dirty rag from the pouch at his waist."No, not that," said Errington impulsively. "Haven't you a handkerchief, Ted?"Burroughs gave his handkerchief to the Chinaman, who tore it in strips, and rolled up two wads which he placed in the German's ears."Wait outside, and let me know if the captain comes."As soon as the door was shut, Burroughs took Errington to the window."The position's this, old man," he said. "Su Fing is coming down river. It's all up with us if he finds us here. Reinhardt won't stick at a trifle. We must get away somehow or other before evening. How it's to be done beats me.""Where did you go when you left me?""I showed off the boat to Chung Pi. He'd eaten so many melon seeds that he wouldn't venture on board at first; but I got him on after a bit. I only did it to heighten my importance. It was when we were going up-stream that we met a launch of Su Fing's, and heard that the chief would be here to-night.""You didn't fly?""No. Chung Pi is sure to have heard of the flying boat, and he'd have smelt a rat. Why?""I've just had an idea," said Errington eagerly."Gently, old chap. I'm not at all sure that Reinhardt can't hear if you raise your voice. What is it?"In a low tone, but with great animation, Errington explained the plan which had suddenly suggested itself. For some time the two discussed it together. It was a strange conversation, conducted under the eyes of the German, glaring at them as he lay fierce and helpless on the floor.They were interrupted by the entrance of the cook man bringing the midday meal. It was a generous repast; the cook had taken a hint from what happened at breakfast-time, and provided food in even greater variety than before. Burroughs and Errington took their chop-sticks and sat on the floor in front of the pots and pans. Errington glanced at Reinhardt."We can't feed while he goes hungry," he said."Speak for yourself," said Burroughs. "I've not the slightest objection.""But they've brought grub for him. He'd better have his share.""Just like you! All right; but he'll be a sort of skeleton at the feast.""A substantial skeleton! He won't depress me. But it's a rummy go, when you come to think of it."Burroughs went to the German and released him."Some of this food is for you," he said, speaking close to Reinhardt's ear. "Errington suggests that you should join us."He went back to his place beside Errington. For some seconds Reinhardt made no movement beyond sitting up and stretching himself, with a sullen stare at Burroughs. Then either the matter-of-fact consideration that he was hungry, or something in the humour of the situation, caused him to banish his sulks. He crossed the room, and squatted heavily opposite the Englishmen."Whatever happens to any of us, this is certainly the last time we three are likely to have a meal together," said Errington.The situation was certainly novel. Men have sat down at table with murder in their hearts; quarrels have arisen at the board; but it is not common for two men to eat with a third whom one has just knocked down, and whose moustache the other is wearing.There was naturally a constraint upon the party--upon Errington more particularly, for he could not forget that he had once been Reinhardt's friend, nor that he owed him money. He might suspect that the German had cheated him, but a debt is a debt. Yet to eat in silence was impossible, and presently Burroughs broke the ice."Have some of this," he said to Reinhardt, looking into one of the pans."I beg pardon," said Reinhardt. "I am a little hard of hearing."The Englishmen glanced at each other."Better go the whole hog and do it decently while we are about it," said Errington."Perhaps you can do something to cure yourself," said Burroughs in a loud tone to the German.Reinhardt removed the wads from his ears, and looking at them doubtfully for a moment, laid them down on the floor beside him."Zanks," he said. "Now I am all attention.""Not at all," said Burroughs. "Have some of this--I don't know what it is."He ladled a sort of stew on to Reinhardt's plate. For a few moments there was silence as they plied their chop-sticks. Then Reinhardt, glancing up under his eyebrows, said gravely--"I zink it is chow--puppy-dog, you know."The others held their chop-sticks suspended."I'll try something else," said Burroughs, looking suspiciously into another pan."In China one must not inquire too much," the German went on. "One must have faith. Once I was at an inn, deep in ze country. I demand dinner; zey say zere is none. Naturally I must have dinner, and I command ze innkeeper very loud. Zat is effective. Soon he bring me a ragout--excellent; I eat it wiz gusto. Afterwards I discover it is rats."The Englishmen's faces expressed their disgust, and again there was silence."China is a great country for rats," said Errington lamely."Zat is true; zere are rats all up ze Yang-tse.""Water-rats," suggested Burroughs."So; four legs--and two," said the German."Tails--and pigtails," said Burroughs."I make a study of zem all.""My boy says that rats' whiskers are lucky," said Errington after a pause."White rats!" added Burroughs.Reinhardt's eyelids flickered. He seemed to avert his gaze with an effort from Burroughs' moustache."I zink he is perhaps mistaken," he said.Then he appeared to feel that he was skating on thin ice, towards a danger-mark. An observant onlooker might have discovered a resemblance between these three men, talking so quietly over their meal, and fencers, warily feeling for each other, but careful not to engage. Each was trying to "make" conversation, and found, almost in spite of himself, that it trended towards the personal. Reinhardt, the keenest and most experienced of the three, was the first to feel the tendency, and to attempt to divert it."Ze Chinese," he went on, "zey are very superstitious. Zey believe in spells and charms, zings which Europe dismissed hundred years ago, and more. Zey talk always of luck.""Don't you see that men make their own luck," said Burroughs."Perhaps, but not at cards," said Reinhardt. "Zat is skill." He pulled himself up suddenly. "Ze Chinese are indeed extremely skilful. As you English say, zey will catch a weasel asleep.""And skin him!" said Errington artlessly."I have heard of that too," said Burroughs, catching Reinhardt's eyes again fixed on his moustache."Is zere any more cabbage?" asked the German, bending forward over the pan."No, but there is some parsley," replied Burroughs, in best phrase-book style; and a minute or two afterwards the meal and the difficult conversation came to an end together.During the pauses each of the party had been busily thinking: Burroughs and Errington of the scheme which they had partially discussed, Reinhardt of the extraordinary circumstances in which he found himself. For once, at any rate, the German felt that he had no trumps. He saw through Burroughs' imposture; and he was pretty sure that the moustache which had fascinated his eyes during the meal was his own. Inwardly boiling with indignation and outraged vanity, he was sportsman enough to enter into the spirit of the situation so far as speech was concerned; his brain was cogitating an exemplary vengeance, and he hugged himself with the thought that the hour of revenge was at hand. The apparent coolness of the Englishmen amazed him. With Su Fing already on his way down the river, their heads were as good as gone. Yet nobody watching them, or listening to their talk, could ever have imagined that their lives hung on a thread.At the conclusion of the meal, Burroughs said politely--"I regret the necessity of tying you up again.""And I," said the German, with equal courtesy, though his eyes were blazing, "I regret to be ze cause of so much trouble."Burroughs called in his servant and the sentinels, and by their hands Reinhardt was again bound. Chin Tai caught sight of the ear-wads lying beside the German's plate."He wantchee he 'nother time all-same?" he asked his master."Your conversation--is it not finished?" the German interposed. "One is incomplete wizout ears.""I'm afraid you must remain incomplete for a while," said Burroughs. "Put them in, Chin Tai; then tell those fellows they can clear away the food and eat what's left. I want you."As soon as the door was closed behind the guard, Burroughs took Errington and Chin Tai to the window, and the three remained for some minutes in earnest conversation."Now," said Burroughs at last to the servant, "you know what you have to do. First of all, cut off to the captain; he has finished his luncheon by this time--and say that I request the honour of waiting upon him on a matter of great urgency.""Allo lightee, sah; my talkee he allo plopa."And he went with an air of much self-importance to fulfil his errand, reflecting with a chuckle that Lo San was out of this.CHAPTER XVIITHE DASH FROM THE YAMENChin Tai returned in about twenty minutes."Captain he say hon'ble genelum come this time; he velly glad look-see.""Good luck," said Errington as Burroughs got up. "If there's any hitch, don't mind about me."Burroughs mumbled something and went out with his servant. The chair was awaiting him at the outer gate. Ordering two of the guards there to accompany him for appearance' sake, he had himself carried to the captain's quarters hard by. On the way he noticed, without any appearance of concern, a large number of wild-looking warriors assembling to form, as he guessed, a guard of honour for the chief on his return. Many of the men scowled at him as he passed. They did not distinguish one "foreign devil" from another. To many of the lower orders of Chinamen, all foreigners are poison.Chung Pi had evidently been indulging freely in the pleasures of the table. He was breathing rather hard; melon seeds are very "filling"; and the number of thimblefuls of hot sam-shu, a fiery drink made of millet, which he had consumed had reddened his face and put him on very good terms with himself."Honourable stranger," he said, when Burroughs entered, "your honourable face is like the sun at noon-day. You have fed well?""Excellently, noble captain.""You cracked many melon seeds?""Not a great number.""Then you will never be fat. Will you take a little sam-shu?""Thank you, not now. Better reserve that until your august chief returns. There has been no further message from him?""No; but I have made preparations for greeting him. The bannermen and gong-beaters will go down to the river in due time, and we shall issue forth to greet the illustrious Su Fing with bands of music.""Would it not be fitting, noble captain, a deed worthy of your high renown, to meet your chief on the marvellous vessel of whose speed you have already made trial? Su Fing returns victorious; he would feel himself duly honoured if his trusty lieutenant met him while still a great way from the town, offering for his acceptance this matchless gift from a great nation.""You speak well, illustrious stranger. The gift is indeed a noble one. But I fear that I cannot dispense with my afternoon nap. Sleep after meat is a gift of the gods.""I would not deprive you of it for worlds. I must go down to the boat, to see that all is in order for the journey we propose to make. I will do that while you sleep.""Not so. The boat pleases me, and drowsy though I am, I am disposed to accompany you. Perhaps Su Fing may give the vessel into my charge; it will be well, then, that I understand something of its qualities. I shall thereby be superior to any other officer of my chief's, and the way of promotion will be open to me.""By all means, noble captain.""Yes. To be well fed is vain without true understanding. But tell me, what of the Englishmen? It was told me that one of them was so daring and wicked as to fire a shot at the other. The guards ought to have searched him; I have given orders that when the rejoicings are over they shall be soundly beaten with the leather.""The man who attempted the crime is bound hand and foot. He can do no more mischief.""It is well. I am fortunate in having another Englishman for Su Fing. He hates all Englishmen, because they do not approve of his warlike deeds. Furthermore, he was wounded by an Englishman, and taken captive, and he suffered stripes and the cage. His heart will laugh when he knows that another of the hated race lies bound in his yamen. Now let us go."He summoned his chairmen and armed escort, and was carried along with Burroughs down to the landing-stage, and on to the vessel. There he watched curiously as the Englishman overhauled the engine, and filled his petrol tank. When this was done, Burroughs took from the end of his watch-chain an Indian charm which had been given him by his mother, and made a few meaningless passes with it over the throttle."Why do you do that?" Chung Pi asked."To ward off evil spirits," replied Burroughs. "We must have a lucky voyage.""You do well. I myself, as you perceive, have a thread of red silk braided in my queue for the same purpose; and I wear a charm attached to a red string within my shirt. So we shall be doubly secure."Burroughs, having satisfied himself that everything was in working order, was at leisure to answer the innumerable questions about the hydroplane with which the Chinaman plied him. They were such futile questions as a simple ignorant peasant might put. Burroughs felt that he was answering a fool according to his folly, and again had compunctions about making this guileless ignoramus his accomplice. It was clear that Chung Pi's vanity was flattered by the idea of showing a new importance before the populace. The machine had become an obsession with him, and as he grew more and more wonder-struck at what Burroughs told him, the approaching arrival of his chief became of less interest to him than the prospect of making an impression on the home-coming warriors.Time slipped away. Burroughs felt restless and impatient. Chung Pi had told him that the approach of the chief's launch would be signalled by a man stationed on the roof of the yamen, which rose high above the surrounding country, and from which another signal station could be seen many miles distant. Burroughs dared not start until the signal was given; yet he felt that time was being wasted.At last, turning to Chung Pi, he said that he had one great surprise in store for him. He had in fact two, but the second was to be revealed at the proper time."You have seen, noble captain," he said, "with what marvellous speed this vessel skims the water, but you have yet to see that it can also fly--even as a duck, which swims ordinarily on the surface, can at need raise itself upon its wings and take the air. But a duck cannot fly so well as this vessel.""What end is there to the marvels you tell me!" exclaimed the captain. "In truth I have heard of a flying boat, belonging to an Englishman at Sui-Fu; but I mocked at the tale, for men are liars.""It is true. This boat is even as that of the Englishman; it flies quite as well.""But how can a boat fly without wings?""I will show you."Burroughs unfolded and spread out the canvas planes at the sides of the boat."Wonderful!" said the Chinaman. "It is very like a butterfly.""How fine a thing it would be to fly to meet Su Fing, noble captain! That would indeed show at once the matchless qualities of this vessel, and the courage of the illustrious officer who so well fills the place of the chief here."Chung Pi's simple face expressed the longing and the terror which a child shows when he is invited for the first time to taste some new experience--the first ride on an elephant, or on a hobby-horse at the village fair."If you would show me first," he said.He stepped on to the landing-stage, and stood fascinated as the vessel, skimming the surface until it attained its lifting speed, rose into the air, circled, and returning, alighted gently at the very spot whence it had started. Beyond measure delighted, Chung Pi hesitated no longer. Making sure that the red string sustaining his charm was securely about his neck, he entered the boat, and uttered childish exclamations of wonderment and pleasure as the vessel once more performed the same flight. On landing, he bore himself with a vainglorious swagger before the crowd of excited onlookers. He insisted on taking Burroughs back to his own house for a few melon seeds and cups of tea, and talked incessantly of the sensation he would make when he flew to meet Su Fing.While they were at tea, with Chin Tai in attendance as interpreter, Lo San, enjoying a certain prestige as the servant of the kind German who had brought so precious a gift, was entertained by the captain's escort. They were exchanging notes with him when the long-expected message was signalled: the watchman on the roof of the yamen had seen a signal on a hill two miles away; the signaller there had received the message from another, and he from another. Su Fing was little more than an hour's journey distant. At once there was a ringing of bells and beating of gongs. Chung Pi, trembling with eagerness, came forth with Burroughs; a procession was formed, and with an armed escort before and behind the chairmen carried their burdens down to the river.At the landing-stage Lo San approached Burroughs, and said in an undertone--"Su Fing he no lick all-same. Fellas he say Su Fing hab catchee numpa one beatin' Cheng Tu side. He belongey velly bad temper."Rumour, flying swiftly through the country, had brought news that the chief, so far from being victorious, had been driven headlong from Cheng Tu by regular forces summoned from Tibet, and was now falling back on Meichow to recoup his losses. There was no doubt that Chung Pi had heard the news; but Burroughs guessed that it was as much as his place was worth to greet his master otherwise than as a conqueror.This information, strange as it may appear, rendered Burroughs the more anxious to set off on his trip up-river. Chung Pi was equally eager, for a different reason. They entered the boat, followed by Chin Tai and Lo San. The ropes were cast off; Burroughs started the engine, and amid loud shouts from the assembled soldiery drawn up on the shore and about the landing-stage in anticipation of the chief's arrival, and from the rag-tag populace swarming on every patch of open space, the vessel ran a few yards up the river, planed as it gathered speed, and finally soared smoothly into the air.Burroughs flew low, so that the trees that edged the river might prevent the spectators at the harbour from following too closely the direction of his flight. Chung Pi was as happy as a lark. He sat, beaming a bland smile, in the seat which Errington had so often occupied. What visions of greatness shone before his soaring soul! He wished that the honourable stranger would rise higher, so that he might descend upon his chief like a celestial benediction. But the honourable stranger's mood seemed to have changed since he left the town. There, he was affable, condescending, communicative; he had a pleasant smile; now he was silent, his lips were pressed together, his moustache appeared stern and forbidding. Chung Pi reflected that he naturally felt his responsibility.For some two miles Burroughs headed straight up the river. Then, well clear of the town, he suddenly altered his course, leaving the river, flying inland, rising as he did so, in order to clear the tree-tops and to get a complete view of the city. The flying boat was describing a circle; presently it was heading on a straight course for Su Fing's yamen, that stood, bright and picturesque, a conspicuous object on its elevated site."But what is this?" said Chung Pi anxiously. "We are going back!"Burroughs did not turn his head or open his lips. But Chin Tai, squatting a little in the rear of the captain, remembered the instructions which his master had impressed upon him in that quiet talk by the window of the prisoner's room."Be not alarmed, noble captain," he said with obsequious reverence. "My august master has forgotten the little charm which he carries to keep off the evil spirits of the air. It would be terrible to start on so important a journey without this necessary talisman.""But we have already started," Chung Pi objected. "And have I not the red silk in my queue, and my own charm about my neck? Will they not suffice, O foolish one?""Heaven-born excellency," replied Chin Tai in still more submissive tones, "you perceive that we have started to return to the yamen. We shall begin our real journey from there.""But your illustrious master has the charm. He showed it me long ago."For a moment Chin Tai was staggered; but ready wit coming to his aid, he said--"This is another charm, noble captain--a better one. My august master must have left it in the yamen. Even the great are at times foolish.""That is true," said Chung Pi, thinking of Su Fing. "Your illustrious master does well to be quite safe, but we waste much time.""Very little, illustrious captain. Are we not flying swift as any bird? Your excellency will be amazed to see how fast we can go, before our flight is finished."Chung Pi was pacified. Indeed, he began to revel in his sensations. How smoothly the vessel flew! How delightful was the scene below--the tree-tops never beheld yet except by the birds of the air, the rolling river, the woods and vales beyond; the city, so rapidly approaching, in its new aspect no longer a labyrinth of mean streets, but a picturesque pattern of masonry! Su Fing, with all his examinations, had never learnt these secrets of the air; Chung Pi began to wonder whether so ignorant a man was fitted to be chief.Burroughs steered straight for the yamen. It was a severe test of his airmanship to alight on the narrow piece of ornamental water that graced the gardens, and to avoid the bridge that zigzagged across it from shore to shore. He shaved it almost by a hair-breadth, and came safely down upon the lake's unruffled surface. Then he ran the vessel to the end nearest the yamen, and brought it up against the stone parapet of a terrace on which Su Fing was wont to walk of an evening, watching the graceful movements of his swans, and meditating his projects against tyranny.And now Burroughs found his tongue. Speaking with a curt brevity that somewhat offended the captain's sense of what was due to his new-born dignity, he ordered--for it was more an order than a request--Chung Pi to remain in the boat with Lo San; he himself with his servant would proceed to the yamen and fetch the charm. Lo San was nervous. He had made up his mind to throttle the captain if any harm befell "Massa Bullows," or if he attempted in any way to interfere. But looking at the big man, his muscular limbs, his sword and dagger, he felt that the task might prove to be beyond his powers."Massa Bullows" had ordered him to turn the vessel round, so that its head pointed towards the river, and to be ready to throw the engine into first speed as soon as he gave the word on his return. Having brought the boat again alongside the parapet, he sat waiting, with his eyes fixed on Chung Pi's half-sullen face.Burroughs, meanwhile, had hurried with Chin Tai through the garden, crossed the rising terraces, and come round to the entrance of the yamen. The guards stood aside to let him pass. Without any appearance of haste he entered, and reached the door of the room in which Errington and Reinhardt were still confined. The sentinels were clustered about a window at one end of the passage, gazing with curiosity at the boat in which their captain sat. Chin Tai hailed them, and pointing to Chung Pi, ordered the men to enter the room, release the bound prisoner, and march him down to the vessel. Burroughs watched them nervously, asking himself whether his scheme would succeed. It was at this point that it threatened to break down. He had calculated that all four men would flock into the room together, but only three did so, the fourth remaining outside."Watch this man," said Burroughs to Chin Tai, following the three men into the room.They were stooping over the German, fumbling with the knots which they had themselves tied, when Errington, who had moved unconcernedly towards the door, suddenly darted out. At the same moment Burroughs stepped back into the passage, pulled the door after him, and shot the bolt; and Chin Tai sprang at the bewildered sentinel, caught him by the throat, and held on until he was half strangled. Then Burroughs drew from his pocket some cords and a piece of canvas he had brought from the boat, and with Errington's assistance gagged and bound the man.Before this was done, the sentinels bolted in the room had begun to yell, hammering on the door with the butts of their spears. The sounds attracted two or three servants of the yamen, who had nothing to do until their master returned. They came running into the passage from the outer courtyard, just in time to see the two foreigners, and the Chinaman, leap from the window on to the walk beneath. Instead of opening the door of the prisoner's room, the servants ran yelling towards the outer gate, to inform the guards that the English prisoner had escaped, and was being pursued by the German and his boy. The guards rushed up to the walk beneath the window, from which they could see Errington spring like a deer from terrace to terrace, with the two others close behind as if chasing him.Burroughs had calculated that, even if Chung Pi should catch sight of them the moment they left the house, he would scarcely be able to grasp and grapple with the situation during the few seconds in which they were sprinting across the eighty yards of terraces that separated the yamen from the lakeside. They expected that his first movement would be to spring ashore, and Lo San had been ordered to lay the boat at the steps leading up to the parapet so as to give him an opportunity of doing so. But they had not reckoned with the effect of their startling actions upon the captain's wits, or with the clamour that had sprung up behind them. The whole population of the yamen was streaming out into the grounds, yelling at the top of their voices, many of them without knowing why. Su Fing's wife and children were drawn from their secluded quarters; cooks, scullions, hair-dressers, nurses, gardeners, all the personnel of the chief's establishment were out of doors.Chung Pi, who had been sitting in impatient dudgeon in the boat, rose to his feet at this extraordinary hullabaloo, and gazed in consternation up towards the yamen, missing the three men, who were nearer to him, but partially hidden by the shrubbery of the terraces. When they pulled themselves up sharply at the stone parapet, leapt down the stairs, and stepped gingerly, as became the light framework of the craft, into the canvas boat, he sank, utterly unstrung, on to one of the thwarts.This unhappy consequence of a surfeit of melon seeds and sam-shu very much simplified the matter for Burroughs and Errington. They had discussed in the room in the yamen what they should do if the genial warrior showed fight, and had come reluctantly to the conclusion that it might be necessary to tumble him into the lake. It was shallow, and there was no danger of so buoyant a man drowning. The fugitives were much relieved to find that it was unnecessary to adopt a violent course with him. It went against the grain to discommode physically so friendly a simpleton, to say nothing of the unwisdom of engaging in a tussle when a score or two pursuers were within a few yards of them.At the moment of reaching the lakeside Burroughs signed to Lo San to put the engine at full speed. Then dashing past the bewildered captain, he seized the steering-wheel as the vessel moved out. For a few yards the boat planed, but by the time it had gathered way, and Burroughs adjusted the elevator and switched the engine on to the air tractor, the bridge was perilously near. But for the zigzag construction of the bridge, the boat could hardly have been prevented from dashing into it. But a slight movement of the rudder caused it to clear the bridge where it dropped down towards the approach on the lakeside, and it soared over the stonework with the narrowest of margins. From that point the grounds of the yamen were open for the space of more than a hundred yards, except for some clumps of shrubbery which were easily avoided. Free now to employ the elevating planes, Burroughs sent the vessel aloft, cleared the outer walls, dodged the trees beyond, and set his course straight for the river.By this time Chung Pi had partially regained his composure. Not a word had been spoken; everything had happened in the space of a minute or two. The captain's dominating feeling was annoyance that the stranger had dared to bring the prisoner from the yamen without consulting him; indeed, in defiance of the contrary wish he had expressed earlier in the day. But he put it down to an ambitious desire to cut a figure before the chief; and since he, Chung Pi, would share in the glory of the feat, he decided to overlook the presumption and content himself by and by with a reprimand.His feeling changed, however, to amazement, suspicion and foreboding, when he saw that the flying boat, instead of turning up-river, skimmed over the tops of the houses in the contrary direction. He heard the shouts of the crowds below, the ringing of bells, the beating of gongs, and glancing to the right he saw with dismay the smoke of the chief's launch high up the river."We are going the wrong way!" he cried in desperation. "Su Fing is at hand!""Be at ease, noble captain," said Lo San pleasantly. "We shall soon be at Sui-Fu!"He flattered himself that the shock of this announcement would give Chung Pi "pins and needles inside," as he said afterwards; little foreseeing that he himself was to have a succession of very unpleasant shocks before night.
CHAPTER XIV
'MY BROTHER!'
The two friends sat for a long time discussing their situation. The problem of escape was a thorny one. The yamen was at some distance from the landing-stage, and the labyrinth of narrow ways by which Burroughs had come to it would puzzle anybody but a Chinaman acquainted with the town. Even if they contrived to elude the sentinels they might easily lose their way, especially in darkness--and they had already come to the conclusion that only by night could they hope to reach the river safely. The appearance of two Europeans in a town where there were no European residents would at once attract a curious crowd, and detection must be inevitable. And the first step of all, the escape from the room in which they were, was itself at present utterly baffling. Time was of the utmost importance. Su Fing might return any day; it was scarcely possible that a man whose mental powers were attested by the passing of so many examinations would be imposed on as the simple Chung Pi had been; and there was no knowing what summary methods he might use in dealing with the two Englishmen to whom he owed a grudge.
Burroughs examined the bars of the window. They were so deeply imbedded in the masonry that to loosen them within a reasonable time seemed a hopeless undertaking. The chances of succeeding in a rush through the doorway, when the door was opened, seemed slight. Burroughs had his revolver; Errington was unarmed; and though Chin Tai, who was waiting without to act as interpreter between Chung Pi and his German visitor, had his knife, it was not very likely that Burroughs and he could overpower the four sentinels on guard at the door. Even if they were taken by surprise, the sound of the scuffle would quickly bring up others from the gates and courtyards between the room and the outer wall. The more they thought of the problem, the more thoroughly were they convinced that violent measures were doomed to failure; they must have recourse to stratagem. But puzzle as they might, neither had the glimmering of a notion what the first move in the game must be.
They were so deeply immersed in talk that they did not notice the flight of time, and both were surprised when the door was opened, and a Chinese cook brought in their breakfast.
"Rice and beans again, I suppose!" said Errington, with a groan. "I've had nothing else."
An idea occurred to Burroughs.
"Take care not to seem friendly with me," he said, twirling his moustache--Reinhardt's moustache!--and turning his back on Errington with true Germanic disdain. "Hai! Chin Tai, tell these fellows that I demand to see the captain at once."
He had some doubt whether his demand would be acceded to, but Chung Pi had apparently anticipated something of the sort, for one of the sentinels called up a man from the courtyard, and sent him with the message to the captain.
When Chung Pi appeared, it was evident that he was much amused. He laughed as he spoke to Chin Tai.
"He say massa hab catchee too plenty muchee plison," said Chin Tai.
"It's all very well," said Burroughs, frowning haughtily. "I asked you to arrest me, for form's sake, but I didn't say I'd agree to be starved. Is this the fare to put before a German? It is good enough for the Englishman, but it won't do for me."
He glanced scornfully at Errington, who, taking the cue, assumed an air of dejection and humility.
"I am sorry," said Chung Pi contritely. "It was a mere oversight on my part. The cook naturally provided for the second prisoner as for the first. He did not know of the understanding between your honourable excellency and my unworthy self. I will at once have a dinner prepared worthy of your august eminence."
"That is well," said Burroughs. "When I have finished my meal, I shall give myself the pleasure of showing to you the boat which lies at the landing-stage."
"I must sleep a little first," said Chung Pi. "I have eaten so many melon seeds that my belt is exceedingly tight."
"At any time your excellency pleases," said Burroughs, with a bow.
The captain retired, after giving orders to the cook. Presently the servant returned, bringing a right royal feast--pickled duck's eggs, bean curd, pork patties, chopped cucumber, millet cakes soaked in treacle, fried cabbage--all very tastily dressed, together with water melons and tea.
As soon as the door was shut, the two prisoners fell to with a will.
"You'll want something better than rice and beans if we're to have any bother," said Burroughs. "This is very good; I only wish they didn't use quite so much garlic and oil."
When they had finished their dinner, Burroughs knocked at the door, and ordered Chin Tai, who meanwhile had had to satisfy himself with rice, to let the captain know that he was ready. It was some time before Chung Pi appeared, cracking and eating melon seeds. What explanation he gave to the sentinels of his indulgence to the second prisoner, or whether he condescended to give any explanation at all, Burroughs never knew. He accompanied Chung Pi to the outer gate, where chairs were waiting, and when they had entered these antiquated vehicles, each was lifted by four chai-jen or yamen runners, and carried through crooked and unsavoury streets, too narrow to admit of more than one passing at a time, down to the landing-stage. Two chai-jen went in advance, clearing a way with their sticks through the crowd. Chin Tai followed.
Lo San's face beamed at the sight of "Massa Bullows." He had begun to fear that some mishap had befallen him, and saw another beating in prospect.
Burroughs invited the captain to step into the hydroplane, but Chung Pi excused himself with many apologies, regretting that the present state of his health--by which Burroughs understood a surfeit of melon seeds--rendered it inadvisable for him to undergo any excitement. Leaving Chin Tai on the landing-stage, as a guarantee of good faith, Burroughs accordingly embarked alone, and for the space of a quarter of an hour or so exhibited the qualities of the vessel as a hydroplane, skimming up and down the river at full speed. Its flying powers, however, he refrained from showing.
Chung Pi was so much impressed and delighted with the marvellous vessel that he overcame his squeamishness, and consented to try a short trip up-stream. A few miles above the town, Burroughs caught sight of a small launch coming down swiftly on the current, and ran up to meet it, intending to turn and race it, with the object of still further impressing the captain. But in a few moments Lo San, interpreting a sentence of his passenger, informed him that the launch was one of Su Fing's dispatch boats, and was probably bringing a message from the chief to Chung Pi.
Feeling somewhat alarmed, Burroughs slowed down, and ran the hydroplane alongside the launch. A sashed and turbaned officer on deck shouted a greeting to Chung Pi, and told him that Su Fing was now on his way down the river with the bulk of his force, and might be expected to arrive before sunset.
"He say you velly happy this time," Lo San interpreted. "Su Fing he come look-see boat, say he velly good, numpa one boat."
Burroughs was anything but happy. He forced a smile, but felt most unphilosophically irritated when the ends of Reinhardt's moustache tickled his cheeks. He listened unheeding to the monotonous voice of Lo San translating the encomiums passed by Chung Pi on the admirable vessel, and steered mechanically down-stream towards Meichow, whither the captain said they must return at once in order to make preparations for Su Fing's fitting reception. Sufficiently alive to the necessity of sparing petrol, he did not drive the vessel at full speed, much to the disappointment of Chung Pi, who was looking forward to a dashing reappearance before the eyes of the thousands of admiring spectators now, beyond doubt, congregated at the riverside.
The imminent return of Su Fing threatened to put a bar to any plan that might be evolved for releasing Errington. As yet, think as hard as he might, Burroughs had been quite unable to form any likely scheme. On the way down the river he bent his brains exclusively on the problem, blind to the probability that Chung Pi might become suspicious of his lack of exhilaration at the prospect of a speedy meeting with the chief. The more he puzzled, the more hopeless the situation appeared. He knew that the coming of Su Fing would draw the whole population into the narrow contorted alley-ways that served as streets, so that, even if he got Errington out of the yamen, the chances of gaining the landing-stage undetected were naught. He tried to think of some means of persuading Chung Pi to bring Errington to the hydroplane; indeed, he ventured to hint that it would be a fine thing to meet the chief far up the river, and offer the prisoner to him as a sort of slave to grace his triumph. But Chung Pi would not hear of it. He objected that the orders he had received were strict: the Englishman was to be closely guarded; and it was as much as his rank was worth to disobey commands so explicit. Burroughs would not excite suspicion by pressing the point; and, indeed, he liked the fat simpleton so well as to wish to avoid getting him into hot water.
Thus uneasy, depressed, more nervous than he had ever been in his life before, he was running towards the landing-stage, not giving a glance beyond, when an exclamation from Lo San caused him to lift his eyes. Then he saw something that shot a cold shiver through him. This was the last straw. A quarter of a mile beyond the landing-stage, coming round a bend in the river, was the nose of a launch which he instantly recognized as Reinhardt's. It would reach the stage about the same time as his own vessel. The game was up! Reinhardt was certainly on board; the launch had never been seen on the river without him. He would certainly betray the pseudo-German. There had never been any love lost between them. They had parted in anger. And with a man of Reinhardt's temperament the "rape of the lock," the explanation of which would flash upon him the moment he caught sight of it adorning Burroughs' lip, would supply the fiercest motive for revenge.
Burroughs turned his head away from Chung Pi; he could no longer keep up the forced smile, which he felt must have become an awful grimace. Always a little slow of thought, he did not remember, for a moment or two, that in his story to Chung Pi he had unwittingly provided himself with an avenue of safety. All at once the recollection flashed upon him: he was Lieutenant Eitel Reinhardt, of the gunboatKaiser Wilhelm. The moustacheless German was his brother!
"My brother! my brother!" he shouted excitedly.
Lo San looked at him in amazement. Was his master mad? Then he, too, remembered.
"My honourable master's brother," he exclaimed to Chung Pi.
The captain's broad face gleamed with interest and satisfaction. This new arrival was the very man who had arranged the gifts for Su Fing, whom his brother had so unfortunately missed, of whose money he himself had a hundred dollars safely tucked into his pouch.
"Brothers are as double cherries," he said. "The coming of your august relative is as the shining of the morning sun on the closed petals of a rose."
Burroughs bowed as Lo San translated, feeling that another word would make him shout with maniacal laughter. With a turn of the wrist he ran the boat alongside the landing-stage, just a second or two before the launch came up at the farther end. With Chung Pi he stepped off, observing that Reinhardt was standing at his gangway, waiting for his heavier and more cumbersome vessel to be brought alongside. And almost wishing that the planks might part, and plunge him into the water and oblivion, he walked forward to meet his fate.
CHAPTER XV
REINHARDT IN THE TOILS
Burroughs and the smiling captain were still some few yards away from Reinhardt's gangway; Reinhardt was staring with puzzled curiosity at the tall German with the moustache so like his own lost treasure; when Burroughs whispered to Lo San--
"Say to the captain: 'That is the launch, but where is my brother? My brother wears a moustache like mine. Do not the English shave the lip? Ask him who he is.'"
Chung Pi was a horse-boy turned captain; like many great men sprung from humble origin, he was apt to stand upon his dignity. Advancing towards the stranger as he stepped on to the landing-stage, he introduced himself with a grave pomposity, and asked Reinhardt to what Meichow owed the honour of his visit.
The German's eyes were fixed in a puzzled stare on Burroughs, who had taken off his cap as in respectful salutation. The close-cropped hair, the pencilled eyebrows, the stiff perpendicularity of his waxed moustache-ends, had so much altered his appearance that Reinhardt, though he felt that he had seen him somewhere before, did not recognize him. Germanic though his aspect was, there was a nameless something about him that put Reinhardt on his guard. Turning to Chung Pi, he replied courteously, in Chinese, that he was a German employed by his government to keep in touch with the august Su Fing, and that his honourable questioner without doubt knew the name of Reinhardt as a friend and ally of his chief.
Lo San was quick-witted. He saw that there was no time to translate the conversation to Burroughs, and for the moment held his peace. Burroughs could only stand in a commanding attitude with folded arms, accusation in his frown. He bethought himself of his moustache, and gave it a cautious twirl. And all the time he wished with desperate anxiety that he could understand what Reinhardt was saying.
Chung Pi looked at the German with fatuous indecision. Burroughs felt that another moment might seal his fate. He was beating his brains for a possible move if his stratagem failed, when Lo San interrupted Reinhardt as he was asking whether Su Fing had returned to the town.
"You see, honourable captain," he said, "that this man who calls himself a German has no moustache!"
And now the pen of the narrator fails: only a gramophone and a cinematograph could faithfully record the scene. Imagine the three men: the magnified horse-boy, bewildered between a furious German, shouting in Chinese, and a calm but quaking Englishman, standing like a judge about to condemn; with a shrill-voiced China boy at his side, screaming into Chung Pi's very ear; the men on the landing-stage gaping; the motley crowd at the shoreward end watching keenly, like the spectators at a boxing-match. Chung Pi, Reinhardt, Lo San, were all talking at once. Reinhardt, incoherent with rage, yelled "I am a German." Chung Pi asked him not to shout. Lo San, determined to make himself heard, screamed "He is an Englishman. As your excellency knows, the friend of Su Fing wears a moustache; it is the custom in his country; look at my august master."
Chung Pi, a peasant beneath his uniform, was slow, tenacious and pig-headed. He had seen Reinhardt once or twice, and carried away an impression of a moustache and little more. If this was Reinhardt, where was the moustache? He felt that he was being played with--he, the lieutenant of Su Fing, was bemocked by a man whose upper lip was even cleaner than that of the Englishman in the yamen. And when Burroughs, taking advantage of Reinhardt's vociferous abuse, whispered to Lo San to suggest that the man should be put with the other Englishman, and Lo San yelled the suggestion into the captain's ear, Chung Pi's simple mind was made up. Beckoning to some of his ruffians who stood expectantly by, he ordered them to seize the pig of an Englishman and carry him to the yamen. The chief should deal with him.
For a few seconds a whirling mass gyrated at the edge of the landing-stage. The centre of it was Conrad Reinhardt; the circumference was formed by a dozen Chinese legs. Yells of rage and derision arose from the variegated crowd of spectators as they watched the supposed Englishman--as much as they could see of him--struggling in the grasp of the spearmen. The scuffle ceased as suddenly as it had begun. Reinhardt appeared to bethink himself of his dignity. He made no further resistance, but allowed the insurgents to lead him away.
That procession is probably a cherished memory in Meichow to this day. It was led by the lictors--if the ragged ruffians may be dignified with that name for the nonce--who thrust back the shouting people that flocked from every alley to see the sight. Then came the prisoner amid the spearmen. A few paces behind marched the two sets of chairmen, carrying Burroughs and Chung Pi, with Chin Tai stepping beside. More spearmen brought up the rear. Lo San had returned to the hydroplane.
At the gate of the yamen Burroughs got out of his chair and approached that of the captain, beckoning Chin Tai forward to interpret.
"Your honourable presence," he said, "has no doubt great preparations to make for the reception of the august Su Fing. I feel that it would ill beseem me to take up more of your time. For myself, I think I ought to follow the prisoner. Who knows what conspiracy he may not hatch with the other if I am not there to keep an eye on them!"
"But you may be in danger from their violence," said Chung Pi. "You saw how the Englishman fought and kicked."
"Yes, he behaved very badly," replied Burroughs; "but with four of your brave warriors outside the door, the prisoners would not dare to molest me."
And with ceremonious salutations they parted.
Meanwhile Reinhardt had been marched through the courtyards, and taken to the room where Errington was wondering anxiously what had happened to his friend. The door was thrown open, and the German thrust inside. The spearmen reported by and by to their captain that on entering the room, the new prisoner advanced towards the other, holding out his hand, and saying some few words of greeting. The first prisoner neither took his hand nor replied to him. Chung Pi had sufficient intelligence to explain this incident satisfactorily to himself. The new-comer was undoubtedly English. He had recognized the prisoner, who, however, was more prudent, and pretended not to know him. Chung Pi plumed himself on his sagacity, and basked in the anticipated light of Su Fing's countenance when he should return and find two birds in his cage.
Reinhardt had made up his mind, while walking up to the yamen, to accept with as good a grace as possible the temporary inconvenience which he owed to the loss of his moustache--also temporary: he felt his upper lip, and discovered proofs of a new crop. By keeping his temper under control he would give himself the best chance of dealing with circumstances as they arose. Of course, when Su Fing returned all would be set right; and he promised himself that the ass of a captain who had so stupidly mistaken him should have cause to regret his imbecility. But he was a good deal puzzled. Who was this man, ostensibly a German, who had stood by indifferent while a compatriot of his own was being shamed? And who was the Chinaman who had uttered such abominable things about him? He was something like Lo San, Errington's boy. And then a light flashed upon him: itwasLo San; Errington, he knew, had been captured; no doubt he was the "other Englishman" who had been mentioned; and the whole affair was a plot on Lo San's part to bring his master and Reinhardt together, in the hope that the German might be persuaded to plead for him with the chief.
This thought comforted Reinhardt. Lo San was evidently a clever fellow; and as Errington's career was of course ended, his boy would probably be quite willing to enter the service of a new master. The German was therefore prepared, when he was pushed forward into the room, to find Errington waiting with open arms to receive him.
He was surprised when Errington refused to speak to him.
"Come, my friend," he said, "zis is not kind. Here am I, come at great cost to serve you, and you cut me! Zere is some big mistake; ze fool of a captain supposes me to be English, and makes me a prisoner. We are two prisoners togezer. Zis is not ze time for coldness between friends. Wizout you, I should not be here at zis moment." Reinhardt was unaware how truly he had spoken. "You owe me much. But you are young, and like many young men, you do not know your best friends."
Errington, on his part, was thoroughly amazed when he saw Reinhardt enter the room. Hearing footsteps outside the door, he had expected to see Burroughs again. The entrance of a man whom, after his recent interview with Burroughs, he distrusted and despised gave him a shock. Instinctively he refused him his hand. But now, at the German's explanation, strange as it was, he began to wonder whether he had not done him a double injustice. Perhaps the man had repented of his refusal of Burroughs' appeal, and after all had come up the river to his assistance.
He was wavering, on the point of asking Reinhardt whether he had seen Burroughs, when the German began to speak again.
"Yes, when your own countrymen do nozink for you, behold me, a German, putting my head into ze lion's mouse on your behalf. I ask you, why should I do so? You owe me five hundred dollars: bah! I zink nozink of zat. You are to me nozink but a friend----"
"And a servant of your firm," Errington blurted out, resenting the reference to his debt, and desperately uneasy now that it was clear that Burroughs and the German had not met.
"Not so," said Reinhardt complacently. "Zere is no reason why I should come to help you--nozink but friendship. You are no longer employed by my firm."
This took Errington's breath away. He listened in stony silence as Reinhardt proceeded.
"Zey pay you zree munce salary instead of notice. I have ze cheque in my pocket. Now you see what a friend I am, when you are no longer wiz me in business, and owe me five hundred dollars. Which is ze friend, Conrad Reinhardt, or Burroughs, ze man what preach, ze man who is what you call a smug, who eats and drinks merry when his old friend is----"
Errington could stand no more. Springing to his feet, he hit out a swinging blow that sent the German spinning across the room.
Reinhardt's hand flew to his breast pocket. He whipped out a revolver, and was taking a snapshot at Errington when his arm was struck up from behind; the weapon exploded harmlessly, and next moment was wrenched from his grasp and flung across the room. Unseen, unheard, Burroughs had quietly entered the room and taken in the situation at a glance.
No word had been spoken. While a man might count three there was a dead silence in the room. Then Burroughs, stepping to the still open door, confronted the sentinels and Chin Tai, who were pressing forward, alarmed by the shot.
"Bind that man!" cried Burroughs, pointing to the German, now slowly rising to his feet.
[image]ERRINGTON HITS OUT
[image]
[image]
ERRINGTON HITS OUT
There was no hesitation among the men. They understood by this time that the supposed detention of Burroughs was only a move in their chief's policy. They did not understand it, but it was no affair of theirs. There were no ropes at hand, but they stripped off their cummerbunds; and in a few minutes Reinhardt, glowering from Burroughs to Errington, and from Errington to Burroughs, lay on the floor, trussed with bonds of yellow and red.
CHAPTER XVI
A LITTLE LUNCHEON PARTY
"What's the row, Pidge?" asked Burroughs, when the sentinels and Chin Tai had been dismissed, and the door closed behind them.
"Oh, he'd been telling a heap of lies, and when he started abusing you, I knocked him down."
Reinhardt started when he heard Burroughs speak in his natural voice. The disguise as it were fell off: his vague misgiving was justified; the cropped hair, the thickened eyebrows, the upturned moustache, no longer imposed upon him, and he writhed in his bonds.
Burroughs gave him a contemptuous stare.
"I don't care, personally," he said very quietly, "what lies you tell about me. There never has been any love lost between us. All I regret is that, among Chinamen, I should have had to treat a European--even such a European as you are--with such indignity. But you've brought it on yourself. You're a dangerous man. You're in league with these rebels; I know it, you needn't protest; in spite of that, in spite of my appeal to you, you wouldn't move a finger in Errington's behalf. I must treat you as an enemy--a secret enemy, and take the precautions that fit the case. Errington and I have matters to discuss, and owing to the action of your friends the rebels, we have to discuss them here. Your company has been forced upon us, so I'll take the liberty of relieving you from the necessity of overhearing our conversation."
"I protest," the German began, blusteringly. "I don't want to hear your conversation. Speak in ze corner; whisper."
Burroughs paid him no attention, but opened the door and called to Chin Tai.
"Stuff up Mr. Reinhardt's ears," he said.
Chin Tai produced a dirty rag from the pouch at his waist.
"No, not that," said Errington impulsively. "Haven't you a handkerchief, Ted?"
Burroughs gave his handkerchief to the Chinaman, who tore it in strips, and rolled up two wads which he placed in the German's ears.
"Wait outside, and let me know if the captain comes."
As soon as the door was shut, Burroughs took Errington to the window.
"The position's this, old man," he said. "Su Fing is coming down river. It's all up with us if he finds us here. Reinhardt won't stick at a trifle. We must get away somehow or other before evening. How it's to be done beats me."
"Where did you go when you left me?"
"I showed off the boat to Chung Pi. He'd eaten so many melon seeds that he wouldn't venture on board at first; but I got him on after a bit. I only did it to heighten my importance. It was when we were going up-stream that we met a launch of Su Fing's, and heard that the chief would be here to-night."
"You didn't fly?"
"No. Chung Pi is sure to have heard of the flying boat, and he'd have smelt a rat. Why?"
"I've just had an idea," said Errington eagerly.
"Gently, old chap. I'm not at all sure that Reinhardt can't hear if you raise your voice. What is it?"
In a low tone, but with great animation, Errington explained the plan which had suddenly suggested itself. For some time the two discussed it together. It was a strange conversation, conducted under the eyes of the German, glaring at them as he lay fierce and helpless on the floor.
They were interrupted by the entrance of the cook man bringing the midday meal. It was a generous repast; the cook had taken a hint from what happened at breakfast-time, and provided food in even greater variety than before. Burroughs and Errington took their chop-sticks and sat on the floor in front of the pots and pans. Errington glanced at Reinhardt.
"We can't feed while he goes hungry," he said.
"Speak for yourself," said Burroughs. "I've not the slightest objection."
"But they've brought grub for him. He'd better have his share."
"Just like you! All right; but he'll be a sort of skeleton at the feast."
"A substantial skeleton! He won't depress me. But it's a rummy go, when you come to think of it."
Burroughs went to the German and released him.
"Some of this food is for you," he said, speaking close to Reinhardt's ear. "Errington suggests that you should join us."
He went back to his place beside Errington. For some seconds Reinhardt made no movement beyond sitting up and stretching himself, with a sullen stare at Burroughs. Then either the matter-of-fact consideration that he was hungry, or something in the humour of the situation, caused him to banish his sulks. He crossed the room, and squatted heavily opposite the Englishmen.
"Whatever happens to any of us, this is certainly the last time we three are likely to have a meal together," said Errington.
The situation was certainly novel. Men have sat down at table with murder in their hearts; quarrels have arisen at the board; but it is not common for two men to eat with a third whom one has just knocked down, and whose moustache the other is wearing.
There was naturally a constraint upon the party--upon Errington more particularly, for he could not forget that he had once been Reinhardt's friend, nor that he owed him money. He might suspect that the German had cheated him, but a debt is a debt. Yet to eat in silence was impossible, and presently Burroughs broke the ice.
"Have some of this," he said to Reinhardt, looking into one of the pans.
"I beg pardon," said Reinhardt. "I am a little hard of hearing."
The Englishmen glanced at each other.
"Better go the whole hog and do it decently while we are about it," said Errington.
"Perhaps you can do something to cure yourself," said Burroughs in a loud tone to the German.
Reinhardt removed the wads from his ears, and looking at them doubtfully for a moment, laid them down on the floor beside him.
"Zanks," he said. "Now I am all attention."
"Not at all," said Burroughs. "Have some of this--I don't know what it is."
He ladled a sort of stew on to Reinhardt's plate. For a few moments there was silence as they plied their chop-sticks. Then Reinhardt, glancing up under his eyebrows, said gravely--
"I zink it is chow--puppy-dog, you know."
The others held their chop-sticks suspended.
"I'll try something else," said Burroughs, looking suspiciously into another pan.
"In China one must not inquire too much," the German went on. "One must have faith. Once I was at an inn, deep in ze country. I demand dinner; zey say zere is none. Naturally I must have dinner, and I command ze innkeeper very loud. Zat is effective. Soon he bring me a ragout--excellent; I eat it wiz gusto. Afterwards I discover it is rats."
The Englishmen's faces expressed their disgust, and again there was silence.
"China is a great country for rats," said Errington lamely.
"Zat is true; zere are rats all up ze Yang-tse."
"Water-rats," suggested Burroughs.
"So; four legs--and two," said the German.
"Tails--and pigtails," said Burroughs.
"I make a study of zem all."
"My boy says that rats' whiskers are lucky," said Errington after a pause.
"White rats!" added Burroughs.
Reinhardt's eyelids flickered. He seemed to avert his gaze with an effort from Burroughs' moustache.
"I zink he is perhaps mistaken," he said.
Then he appeared to feel that he was skating on thin ice, towards a danger-mark. An observant onlooker might have discovered a resemblance between these three men, talking so quietly over their meal, and fencers, warily feeling for each other, but careful not to engage. Each was trying to "make" conversation, and found, almost in spite of himself, that it trended towards the personal. Reinhardt, the keenest and most experienced of the three, was the first to feel the tendency, and to attempt to divert it.
"Ze Chinese," he went on, "zey are very superstitious. Zey believe in spells and charms, zings which Europe dismissed hundred years ago, and more. Zey talk always of luck."
"Don't you see that men make their own luck," said Burroughs.
"Perhaps, but not at cards," said Reinhardt. "Zat is skill." He pulled himself up suddenly. "Ze Chinese are indeed extremely skilful. As you English say, zey will catch a weasel asleep."
"And skin him!" said Errington artlessly.
"I have heard of that too," said Burroughs, catching Reinhardt's eyes again fixed on his moustache.
"Is zere any more cabbage?" asked the German, bending forward over the pan.
"No, but there is some parsley," replied Burroughs, in best phrase-book style; and a minute or two afterwards the meal and the difficult conversation came to an end together.
During the pauses each of the party had been busily thinking: Burroughs and Errington of the scheme which they had partially discussed, Reinhardt of the extraordinary circumstances in which he found himself. For once, at any rate, the German felt that he had no trumps. He saw through Burroughs' imposture; and he was pretty sure that the moustache which had fascinated his eyes during the meal was his own. Inwardly boiling with indignation and outraged vanity, he was sportsman enough to enter into the spirit of the situation so far as speech was concerned; his brain was cogitating an exemplary vengeance, and he hugged himself with the thought that the hour of revenge was at hand. The apparent coolness of the Englishmen amazed him. With Su Fing already on his way down the river, their heads were as good as gone. Yet nobody watching them, or listening to their talk, could ever have imagined that their lives hung on a thread.
At the conclusion of the meal, Burroughs said politely--
"I regret the necessity of tying you up again."
"And I," said the German, with equal courtesy, though his eyes were blazing, "I regret to be ze cause of so much trouble."
Burroughs called in his servant and the sentinels, and by their hands Reinhardt was again bound. Chin Tai caught sight of the ear-wads lying beside the German's plate.
"He wantchee he 'nother time all-same?" he asked his master.
"Your conversation--is it not finished?" the German interposed. "One is incomplete wizout ears."
"I'm afraid you must remain incomplete for a while," said Burroughs. "Put them in, Chin Tai; then tell those fellows they can clear away the food and eat what's left. I want you."
As soon as the door was closed behind the guard, Burroughs took Errington and Chin Tai to the window, and the three remained for some minutes in earnest conversation.
"Now," said Burroughs at last to the servant, "you know what you have to do. First of all, cut off to the captain; he has finished his luncheon by this time--and say that I request the honour of waiting upon him on a matter of great urgency."
"Allo lightee, sah; my talkee he allo plopa."
And he went with an air of much self-importance to fulfil his errand, reflecting with a chuckle that Lo San was out of this.
CHAPTER XVII
THE DASH FROM THE YAMEN
Chin Tai returned in about twenty minutes.
"Captain he say hon'ble genelum come this time; he velly glad look-see."
"Good luck," said Errington as Burroughs got up. "If there's any hitch, don't mind about me."
Burroughs mumbled something and went out with his servant. The chair was awaiting him at the outer gate. Ordering two of the guards there to accompany him for appearance' sake, he had himself carried to the captain's quarters hard by. On the way he noticed, without any appearance of concern, a large number of wild-looking warriors assembling to form, as he guessed, a guard of honour for the chief on his return. Many of the men scowled at him as he passed. They did not distinguish one "foreign devil" from another. To many of the lower orders of Chinamen, all foreigners are poison.
Chung Pi had evidently been indulging freely in the pleasures of the table. He was breathing rather hard; melon seeds are very "filling"; and the number of thimblefuls of hot sam-shu, a fiery drink made of millet, which he had consumed had reddened his face and put him on very good terms with himself.
"Honourable stranger," he said, when Burroughs entered, "your honourable face is like the sun at noon-day. You have fed well?"
"Excellently, noble captain."
"You cracked many melon seeds?"
"Not a great number."
"Then you will never be fat. Will you take a little sam-shu?"
"Thank you, not now. Better reserve that until your august chief returns. There has been no further message from him?"
"No; but I have made preparations for greeting him. The bannermen and gong-beaters will go down to the river in due time, and we shall issue forth to greet the illustrious Su Fing with bands of music."
"Would it not be fitting, noble captain, a deed worthy of your high renown, to meet your chief on the marvellous vessel of whose speed you have already made trial? Su Fing returns victorious; he would feel himself duly honoured if his trusty lieutenant met him while still a great way from the town, offering for his acceptance this matchless gift from a great nation."
"You speak well, illustrious stranger. The gift is indeed a noble one. But I fear that I cannot dispense with my afternoon nap. Sleep after meat is a gift of the gods."
"I would not deprive you of it for worlds. I must go down to the boat, to see that all is in order for the journey we propose to make. I will do that while you sleep."
"Not so. The boat pleases me, and drowsy though I am, I am disposed to accompany you. Perhaps Su Fing may give the vessel into my charge; it will be well, then, that I understand something of its qualities. I shall thereby be superior to any other officer of my chief's, and the way of promotion will be open to me."
"By all means, noble captain."
"Yes. To be well fed is vain without true understanding. But tell me, what of the Englishmen? It was told me that one of them was so daring and wicked as to fire a shot at the other. The guards ought to have searched him; I have given orders that when the rejoicings are over they shall be soundly beaten with the leather."
"The man who attempted the crime is bound hand and foot. He can do no more mischief."
"It is well. I am fortunate in having another Englishman for Su Fing. He hates all Englishmen, because they do not approve of his warlike deeds. Furthermore, he was wounded by an Englishman, and taken captive, and he suffered stripes and the cage. His heart will laugh when he knows that another of the hated race lies bound in his yamen. Now let us go."
He summoned his chairmen and armed escort, and was carried along with Burroughs down to the landing-stage, and on to the vessel. There he watched curiously as the Englishman overhauled the engine, and filled his petrol tank. When this was done, Burroughs took from the end of his watch-chain an Indian charm which had been given him by his mother, and made a few meaningless passes with it over the throttle.
"Why do you do that?" Chung Pi asked.
"To ward off evil spirits," replied Burroughs. "We must have a lucky voyage."
"You do well. I myself, as you perceive, have a thread of red silk braided in my queue for the same purpose; and I wear a charm attached to a red string within my shirt. So we shall be doubly secure."
Burroughs, having satisfied himself that everything was in working order, was at leisure to answer the innumerable questions about the hydroplane with which the Chinaman plied him. They were such futile questions as a simple ignorant peasant might put. Burroughs felt that he was answering a fool according to his folly, and again had compunctions about making this guileless ignoramus his accomplice. It was clear that Chung Pi's vanity was flattered by the idea of showing a new importance before the populace. The machine had become an obsession with him, and as he grew more and more wonder-struck at what Burroughs told him, the approaching arrival of his chief became of less interest to him than the prospect of making an impression on the home-coming warriors.
Time slipped away. Burroughs felt restless and impatient. Chung Pi had told him that the approach of the chief's launch would be signalled by a man stationed on the roof of the yamen, which rose high above the surrounding country, and from which another signal station could be seen many miles distant. Burroughs dared not start until the signal was given; yet he felt that time was being wasted.
At last, turning to Chung Pi, he said that he had one great surprise in store for him. He had in fact two, but the second was to be revealed at the proper time.
"You have seen, noble captain," he said, "with what marvellous speed this vessel skims the water, but you have yet to see that it can also fly--even as a duck, which swims ordinarily on the surface, can at need raise itself upon its wings and take the air. But a duck cannot fly so well as this vessel."
"What end is there to the marvels you tell me!" exclaimed the captain. "In truth I have heard of a flying boat, belonging to an Englishman at Sui-Fu; but I mocked at the tale, for men are liars."
"It is true. This boat is even as that of the Englishman; it flies quite as well."
"But how can a boat fly without wings?"
"I will show you."
Burroughs unfolded and spread out the canvas planes at the sides of the boat.
"Wonderful!" said the Chinaman. "It is very like a butterfly."
"How fine a thing it would be to fly to meet Su Fing, noble captain! That would indeed show at once the matchless qualities of this vessel, and the courage of the illustrious officer who so well fills the place of the chief here."
Chung Pi's simple face expressed the longing and the terror which a child shows when he is invited for the first time to taste some new experience--the first ride on an elephant, or on a hobby-horse at the village fair.
"If you would show me first," he said.
He stepped on to the landing-stage, and stood fascinated as the vessel, skimming the surface until it attained its lifting speed, rose into the air, circled, and returning, alighted gently at the very spot whence it had started. Beyond measure delighted, Chung Pi hesitated no longer. Making sure that the red string sustaining his charm was securely about his neck, he entered the boat, and uttered childish exclamations of wonderment and pleasure as the vessel once more performed the same flight. On landing, he bore himself with a vainglorious swagger before the crowd of excited onlookers. He insisted on taking Burroughs back to his own house for a few melon seeds and cups of tea, and talked incessantly of the sensation he would make when he flew to meet Su Fing.
While they were at tea, with Chin Tai in attendance as interpreter, Lo San, enjoying a certain prestige as the servant of the kind German who had brought so precious a gift, was entertained by the captain's escort. They were exchanging notes with him when the long-expected message was signalled: the watchman on the roof of the yamen had seen a signal on a hill two miles away; the signaller there had received the message from another, and he from another. Su Fing was little more than an hour's journey distant. At once there was a ringing of bells and beating of gongs. Chung Pi, trembling with eagerness, came forth with Burroughs; a procession was formed, and with an armed escort before and behind the chairmen carried their burdens down to the river.
At the landing-stage Lo San approached Burroughs, and said in an undertone--
"Su Fing he no lick all-same. Fellas he say Su Fing hab catchee numpa one beatin' Cheng Tu side. He belongey velly bad temper."
Rumour, flying swiftly through the country, had brought news that the chief, so far from being victorious, had been driven headlong from Cheng Tu by regular forces summoned from Tibet, and was now falling back on Meichow to recoup his losses. There was no doubt that Chung Pi had heard the news; but Burroughs guessed that it was as much as his place was worth to greet his master otherwise than as a conqueror.
This information, strange as it may appear, rendered Burroughs the more anxious to set off on his trip up-river. Chung Pi was equally eager, for a different reason. They entered the boat, followed by Chin Tai and Lo San. The ropes were cast off; Burroughs started the engine, and amid loud shouts from the assembled soldiery drawn up on the shore and about the landing-stage in anticipation of the chief's arrival, and from the rag-tag populace swarming on every patch of open space, the vessel ran a few yards up the river, planed as it gathered speed, and finally soared smoothly into the air.
Burroughs flew low, so that the trees that edged the river might prevent the spectators at the harbour from following too closely the direction of his flight. Chung Pi was as happy as a lark. He sat, beaming a bland smile, in the seat which Errington had so often occupied. What visions of greatness shone before his soaring soul! He wished that the honourable stranger would rise higher, so that he might descend upon his chief like a celestial benediction. But the honourable stranger's mood seemed to have changed since he left the town. There, he was affable, condescending, communicative; he had a pleasant smile; now he was silent, his lips were pressed together, his moustache appeared stern and forbidding. Chung Pi reflected that he naturally felt his responsibility.
For some two miles Burroughs headed straight up the river. Then, well clear of the town, he suddenly altered his course, leaving the river, flying inland, rising as he did so, in order to clear the tree-tops and to get a complete view of the city. The flying boat was describing a circle; presently it was heading on a straight course for Su Fing's yamen, that stood, bright and picturesque, a conspicuous object on its elevated site.
"But what is this?" said Chung Pi anxiously. "We are going back!"
Burroughs did not turn his head or open his lips. But Chin Tai, squatting a little in the rear of the captain, remembered the instructions which his master had impressed upon him in that quiet talk by the window of the prisoner's room.
"Be not alarmed, noble captain," he said with obsequious reverence. "My august master has forgotten the little charm which he carries to keep off the evil spirits of the air. It would be terrible to start on so important a journey without this necessary talisman."
"But we have already started," Chung Pi objected. "And have I not the red silk in my queue, and my own charm about my neck? Will they not suffice, O foolish one?"
"Heaven-born excellency," replied Chin Tai in still more submissive tones, "you perceive that we have started to return to the yamen. We shall begin our real journey from there."
"But your illustrious master has the charm. He showed it me long ago."
For a moment Chin Tai was staggered; but ready wit coming to his aid, he said--
"This is another charm, noble captain--a better one. My august master must have left it in the yamen. Even the great are at times foolish."
"That is true," said Chung Pi, thinking of Su Fing. "Your illustrious master does well to be quite safe, but we waste much time."
"Very little, illustrious captain. Are we not flying swift as any bird? Your excellency will be amazed to see how fast we can go, before our flight is finished."
Chung Pi was pacified. Indeed, he began to revel in his sensations. How smoothly the vessel flew! How delightful was the scene below--the tree-tops never beheld yet except by the birds of the air, the rolling river, the woods and vales beyond; the city, so rapidly approaching, in its new aspect no longer a labyrinth of mean streets, but a picturesque pattern of masonry! Su Fing, with all his examinations, had never learnt these secrets of the air; Chung Pi began to wonder whether so ignorant a man was fitted to be chief.
Burroughs steered straight for the yamen. It was a severe test of his airmanship to alight on the narrow piece of ornamental water that graced the gardens, and to avoid the bridge that zigzagged across it from shore to shore. He shaved it almost by a hair-breadth, and came safely down upon the lake's unruffled surface. Then he ran the vessel to the end nearest the yamen, and brought it up against the stone parapet of a terrace on which Su Fing was wont to walk of an evening, watching the graceful movements of his swans, and meditating his projects against tyranny.
And now Burroughs found his tongue. Speaking with a curt brevity that somewhat offended the captain's sense of what was due to his new-born dignity, he ordered--for it was more an order than a request--Chung Pi to remain in the boat with Lo San; he himself with his servant would proceed to the yamen and fetch the charm. Lo San was nervous. He had made up his mind to throttle the captain if any harm befell "Massa Bullows," or if he attempted in any way to interfere. But looking at the big man, his muscular limbs, his sword and dagger, he felt that the task might prove to be beyond his powers.
"Massa Bullows" had ordered him to turn the vessel round, so that its head pointed towards the river, and to be ready to throw the engine into first speed as soon as he gave the word on his return. Having brought the boat again alongside the parapet, he sat waiting, with his eyes fixed on Chung Pi's half-sullen face.
Burroughs, meanwhile, had hurried with Chin Tai through the garden, crossed the rising terraces, and come round to the entrance of the yamen. The guards stood aside to let him pass. Without any appearance of haste he entered, and reached the door of the room in which Errington and Reinhardt were still confined. The sentinels were clustered about a window at one end of the passage, gazing with curiosity at the boat in which their captain sat. Chin Tai hailed them, and pointing to Chung Pi, ordered the men to enter the room, release the bound prisoner, and march him down to the vessel. Burroughs watched them nervously, asking himself whether his scheme would succeed. It was at this point that it threatened to break down. He had calculated that all four men would flock into the room together, but only three did so, the fourth remaining outside.
"Watch this man," said Burroughs to Chin Tai, following the three men into the room.
They were stooping over the German, fumbling with the knots which they had themselves tied, when Errington, who had moved unconcernedly towards the door, suddenly darted out. At the same moment Burroughs stepped back into the passage, pulled the door after him, and shot the bolt; and Chin Tai sprang at the bewildered sentinel, caught him by the throat, and held on until he was half strangled. Then Burroughs drew from his pocket some cords and a piece of canvas he had brought from the boat, and with Errington's assistance gagged and bound the man.
Before this was done, the sentinels bolted in the room had begun to yell, hammering on the door with the butts of their spears. The sounds attracted two or three servants of the yamen, who had nothing to do until their master returned. They came running into the passage from the outer courtyard, just in time to see the two foreigners, and the Chinaman, leap from the window on to the walk beneath. Instead of opening the door of the prisoner's room, the servants ran yelling towards the outer gate, to inform the guards that the English prisoner had escaped, and was being pursued by the German and his boy. The guards rushed up to the walk beneath the window, from which they could see Errington spring like a deer from terrace to terrace, with the two others close behind as if chasing him.
Burroughs had calculated that, even if Chung Pi should catch sight of them the moment they left the house, he would scarcely be able to grasp and grapple with the situation during the few seconds in which they were sprinting across the eighty yards of terraces that separated the yamen from the lakeside. They expected that his first movement would be to spring ashore, and Lo San had been ordered to lay the boat at the steps leading up to the parapet so as to give him an opportunity of doing so. But they had not reckoned with the effect of their startling actions upon the captain's wits, or with the clamour that had sprung up behind them. The whole population of the yamen was streaming out into the grounds, yelling at the top of their voices, many of them without knowing why. Su Fing's wife and children were drawn from their secluded quarters; cooks, scullions, hair-dressers, nurses, gardeners, all the personnel of the chief's establishment were out of doors.
Chung Pi, who had been sitting in impatient dudgeon in the boat, rose to his feet at this extraordinary hullabaloo, and gazed in consternation up towards the yamen, missing the three men, who were nearer to him, but partially hidden by the shrubbery of the terraces. When they pulled themselves up sharply at the stone parapet, leapt down the stairs, and stepped gingerly, as became the light framework of the craft, into the canvas boat, he sank, utterly unstrung, on to one of the thwarts.
This unhappy consequence of a surfeit of melon seeds and sam-shu very much simplified the matter for Burroughs and Errington. They had discussed in the room in the yamen what they should do if the genial warrior showed fight, and had come reluctantly to the conclusion that it might be necessary to tumble him into the lake. It was shallow, and there was no danger of so buoyant a man drowning. The fugitives were much relieved to find that it was unnecessary to adopt a violent course with him. It went against the grain to discommode physically so friendly a simpleton, to say nothing of the unwisdom of engaging in a tussle when a score or two pursuers were within a few yards of them.
At the moment of reaching the lakeside Burroughs signed to Lo San to put the engine at full speed. Then dashing past the bewildered captain, he seized the steering-wheel as the vessel moved out. For a few yards the boat planed, but by the time it had gathered way, and Burroughs adjusted the elevator and switched the engine on to the air tractor, the bridge was perilously near. But for the zigzag construction of the bridge, the boat could hardly have been prevented from dashing into it. But a slight movement of the rudder caused it to clear the bridge where it dropped down towards the approach on the lakeside, and it soared over the stonework with the narrowest of margins. From that point the grounds of the yamen were open for the space of more than a hundred yards, except for some clumps of shrubbery which were easily avoided. Free now to employ the elevating planes, Burroughs sent the vessel aloft, cleared the outer walls, dodged the trees beyond, and set his course straight for the river.
By this time Chung Pi had partially regained his composure. Not a word had been spoken; everything had happened in the space of a minute or two. The captain's dominating feeling was annoyance that the stranger had dared to bring the prisoner from the yamen without consulting him; indeed, in defiance of the contrary wish he had expressed earlier in the day. But he put it down to an ambitious desire to cut a figure before the chief; and since he, Chung Pi, would share in the glory of the feat, he decided to overlook the presumption and content himself by and by with a reprimand.
His feeling changed, however, to amazement, suspicion and foreboding, when he saw that the flying boat, instead of turning up-river, skimmed over the tops of the houses in the contrary direction. He heard the shouts of the crowds below, the ringing of bells, the beating of gongs, and glancing to the right he saw with dismay the smoke of the chief's launch high up the river.
"We are going the wrong way!" he cried in desperation. "Su Fing is at hand!"
"Be at ease, noble captain," said Lo San pleasantly. "We shall soon be at Sui-Fu!"
He flattered himself that the shock of this announcement would give Chung Pi "pins and needles inside," as he said afterwards; little foreseeing that he himself was to have a succession of very unpleasant shocks before night.