To Londoners who find it an easy matter to pass, at any time of the night, from one end of the metropolis to the other, it may appear that Nicholas and Chow had no very difficult task before them. Such however, was not the case, for in the first place, instead of open thoroughfares, the great streets of the cities of China are barricaded at the ends with chains, and the smaller ones with wicket-gates, at each of which is placed a watchman, whose business it is to question every pedestrian, and through the night to keep clanging a piece of hard wood against a hollow bamboo cane, for the purpose of showing his watchfulness.
As the boys, by aid of their lanterns picked their way through the streets, they found them deserted; with the exception of a few stragglers, each of whom carried a lantern, upon which was ostentatiously emblazoned his name and rank. Imagine all the gas lamps in London extinguished, and their places supplied by a few dancing will-o'-the-wisp kind of lanterns, and you will have a tolerable notion of the appearance of the great cities of China by night. Dismal, truly, but perhaps not more so than were the streets of London not many years since, when they were lighted by flickering oil lamps. Again, as were those of London at the very period when these adventures happened, the streets are so narrow that a good-sized carriage or wagon cannot pass through without danger to the people, but then the narrowness of the streets was less pardonable in Londoners of that age, than in the Chinese of the present, whose great people ride in sedan-chairs, and whose little people walk, and convey their goods to and fro in narrow carts, like barrows, with one centre wheel. The Celestials are at least consistent in fitting their vehicles to their streets, which is more than could be said of old London, with its gutter streets and heavy lumbering coaches, types of which may be seen every day in the London of the present time.
The street in which the inn was situated was one of the principal, and, therefore, of great length, and along the pavement, which was in the middle of the road, the boys trudged onward, passing every now and then beneath one of the numerous Pai-ho, or arches, which are erected to the memory of good magistrates and virtuous women, till they came to a lattice-gate which led into a smaller street, when their progress was arrested, for the watchman was not at his post. They waited for some time, till becoming impatient, Chow kicked the gate, when there arose such a queer hissing noise, that the boy fell upon his face, exclaiming, "My master, my master the demons of Yen-Vang have swallowed the watchman, and are guarding the gate in his stead."
"Thou art a foolish coward," said Nicholas, who clambered up the gate, and after looking through the wicket for a minute let go his hold and laughed immoderately. "O Chow, Chow, thou idiot! not to know a demon from one of thine own kind; surely these demons are nothing but geese;" and as the watchman opened the wicket Chow saw that the noise which had alarmed him had been caused by a couple of those birds, which the watchman had trained to cackle and hiss at the slightest noise, so that he might take a comfortable nap, with the certainty of being aroused when wanted by the hissing.
"Truly they must be barbarian geese, for I should have understood them had they cackled in Chinese," said Chow.
To get the gate open was one thing, to pass through another, for perceiving neither name nor rank upon the lanterns, the watchman determined to detain the boys as suspicious characters, and for that purpose began to clang upon his bamboo for assistance, when a personage came up to the wicket, and both the watchman and Chow bent their heads respectfully. From the yellow robe, the string of beads around his neck, and his shaven head, Nicholas saw that he was a bonze, or priest of Fo. As this reverend gentleman came through the gate he ran his fingers up and down the beads, and muttered, "O Mi to-fo," and so would have passed, but for Chow, who said, "Will the man of prayer pardon an insignificant mouse for interrupting his holy meditations?"
"The dogs are vagabonds, perhaps robbers, who have no name, surname, or profession on their lanterns, O holy bonze," said the polite watchman.
"What would the nameless night prowlers with the priest of Buddha?" said the bonze.
"Truly nothing but a guide to the monastery, where they seek a lodging for which they pray of the holy father to accept alms."
At the word alms the eyes of the bonze sparkled with delight, and having lifted his lantern so as to get a full view of Nicholas, he said to the watchman, "Thou rascal! thy dog's head hath less brains than these geese, and thine eyeballs are of lead, or thou wouldst have seen that so well-looking a youth must be of honorable descent; moreover, where was thy charity, that thou wouldst not aid a traveler?"
"Surely the man would be wanting in sense who should suppose that he had the wisdom and divining power of a holy bonze," replied the trembling guardian of the night.
Not deigning, however to notice this observation, the bonze conducted the boys along several streets, till they reached a building surrounded by a high wall, through which, by means of a small gate, they passed to an avenue of magnificent trees, paved with marble, and which led to a large gateway, guarded upon each side by a very ugly stone god. Passing through the gateway, they entered a small room lighted from the centre by one large lantern, decorated with portraits of the god Fo, in every variety of character. This god, as you may probably know, is represented by almost every kind of animal, biped and quadruped, into which during the lapse of centuries his soul is supposed to have passed. Around this room, which was for every day use, were small idols of gilt copper, with ghos-sticks burning before them; on the table, in the centre of the room, stood a time measure, that must remind you of the period of our own King Alfred. It is termed the hourly incense-stick, and is notched at equal distances, and as from notch to notch the stick takes exactly one hour to burn, it accurately marks the passing time.
This ghos-stick, so named from its being burned as incense in the ghos-houses or temples of China, is compounded of sawdust mixed with glue and scent, and evenly rolled into thin rods of two or three feet in length; in fact, the very same brown stick adopted by smokers in this country for its pleasant perfume, and continuing to burn till reduced to ashes. Having introduced the boys to this room the bonze withdrew, and shortly afterward sent a servant with blankets and sleeping mats, upon which they stretched themselves, not a little pleased at the opportunity of getting a good sleep after their day's fatigue.
Long before morning, however, Nicholas was suddenly aroused from his slumbers, and to his surprise saw the bonze upon the floor, with Chow pummeling him with his fists, and crying, "I have thee, I have thee, thou slayer of people's parents."
Not knowing what to make of this strange scene, Nicholas caught Chow by the arm and endeavored to pull him away; this, however, served but to excite him the more, for he pummeled at the bonze harder than ever. The behavior of the priest was still more surprising, for instead of showing any indignation at this strange treatment, all he said was, "Harm the youth not my son; he is possessed with a demon; he sleeps, poor boy, and mistakes me for some terrible enemy."
This explanation Nicholas soon found to be correct, for poor Chow had been battling in his sleep; but how the bonze came into the boy's clutches was a mystery, and one that, worn out as he was with fatigue, he did not just then care about solving, so that he could get Chow to his mat again, which after considerable trouble he managed, by telling him that he was an officer of justice and would see that his enemy should be punished. After which Nicholas threw himself upon his mat, fell into a sound sleep, and slept till he was awakened by the deep tones of the monastery bell.
During the morning meal he related the adventure to the much-puzzled Chow, who could remember nothing but that he had dreamed that the slayer of his father suddenly entered the room, and after prowling about for some time, first searched the robe of Nicholas, and then came to his bed, when, thinking he was going to kill him, he attacked him in self-defence; though how his enemy should have become transformed into the bonze, who certainly had no business in the room, was a puzzle that he could not make out.
The explanation of the bonze was, that he had entered his visitors' apartment to see that they had been properly attended to by the servant—an explanation not at all satisfactory to Chow, who as soon as the priest left the room said, "Is my master's girdle safe? for these holy fathers are great rogues."
Alarmed for the safety of his letters, Nicholas examined his girdle; they were safe; when shocked at his insinuation, the repentant Chow exclaimed, "Truly, my master, Chow is less than the least of little dogs, and must crave the good father's forgiveness,"—which he took the first opportunity of doing, by falling upon all fours before the priest and knocking his forehead to the ground, till the latter in pity lifted the boy upon his legs again.
Anxious to deliver his father's letter to the Christian priest, yet fearful of making inquiries where he was to be found, now he had heard of the governor's enmity to Christianity, Nicholas determined to make the effort alone, and having thanked the bonze for his hospitality and presented him with half an ounce of silver, he was about proceeding in his search, when the latter solicited him to join in the morning prayers of the monastery; a solicitation he was too prudent to refuse, for fear of awakening the suspicions of the bonzes, whom he knew to be the main persecutors of his religion.
As for Chow, like the majority of his countrymen he was of no religion in particular, but a little of each of the sects into which the Chinese are divided; Confucian, Buddhist, and Taouist; he, therefore, willingly followed Nicholas, who, with something like a feeling of disgust, entered a spacious hall, the ceiling of which shone with gold and japan. In the centre were placed three colossal representative gods of the past, present, and future—the Buddha who is, and the Buddha who will be—with a vase of incense and a lamp of burning tea oil before each. At the sound of a small bell, a number of yellow-robed priests, with heads shaven, clean and oily as bladders of lard, made their appearance and commenced the ceremony; one rang a bell violently, while another clattered like a watchman upon a hollow bamboo cane. This clamor was for the purpose of arousing the attention of the gods, which, after a few minutes, being supposed to be accomplished, the whole society of priests knocked their heads upon the ground repeatedly; and when tired, they began to chant hymns and create a fearful din by playing rough music upon much rougher instruments; after which they marched out of the hall regularly and in double file. Not a little pleased at the conclusion of the ceremony, Nicholas followed, taking care, however, on leaving the building, to choose an opposite direction to the bonzes.
The boys had not walked more than a hundred yards, when they came to the foot of a small hillock, which served as a base or pedestal for a shrine, in which, upon a raised platform, like a small boy upon a tall stool, sat an ugly little god with a dragon's head, so glittering, however, with gold and gaudy colors, that they knew it to be a private idol that some foolish devotee had decorated at his own cost, with a view to obtain some especial service from heaven. When within earshot of this deity, they observed two bonzes come from behind the shrine, attended by a servant, who, having prepared the incense table commenced to bow their heads to the ground and mutter their prayers.
Not wishing either to join in, or interrupt the priests' devotions, the boys took up their position behind the trunk of a large tree, where they witnessed the following scene:—
Scarcely had the bonzes commenced their head knockings when a mob of the lower class of people, with sticks and hammers in their hands, came clamoring toward the shrine. They were led by a man, who had no sooner reached the astute and kneeling priests, than with one kick he sent them rolling over each other, saying at the same time, "Get thee hence, thou rogues of bonzes, and let us deal with this villainous god." The bonzes, seeing so many persons, arose and scampered off to their monastery for help, when theleader, whom Nicholas now recognized as his friend, the innkeeper, approached the idol, saying, "How now, thou dog of a spirit! Have I not fed thee, lodged thee handsomely, and offered incense each day at the cost of half my hard earnings, that thou shouldst save the life of my daughter, who, notwithstanding, has been carried to the yellow stream? Let us punish him, my friends, that he may deceive no other father." As he uttered the last words, he struck off the arm of the god with such force that it struck a bonze, who was at that moment coming toward the idol in advance of some twenty of his brethren; at which the people cried, "This is indeed a just retribution upon the vile bonze."
"Do not the people fear the vengeance of the gods, that they behave thus?" said the stricken priest, calmly, and dissembling his rage.
"Truly the gods may render us unfortunate," said one cowardly fellow, and the superstitious crowd hesitated. Perceiving his advantage, the bonze followed it up. "Surely," said he, "the people are not unreasonable, like this man, who is ungrateful to the gods for taking his daughter, as if, forsooth, his child were better than the children of his neighbors."
"This is true. Why should one complain that he is not more fortunate than the rest?" said the cowardly voice.
"As for the worthy Sing, the gods may pardon him, in consideration of his great grief; but then he must desist from this profanity," said the bonze.
"The bonze is generous, and his words are reasonable," said another.
"Are my friends unjust that they will not listen to an injured man, whose injuries may be their own to-morrow?" said the innkeeper.
"This is reasonable also; let us hear Sing," cried several voices.
At that moment, Nicholas, who feared lest the artful bonzes should get the better of the dispute, came forward, and said, "Why should the worthy Sing waste words? surely he has been sufficiently injured; the measure of his grief is full, for he will leave no descendant to fulfil the necessary offices at his tomb."
"The words of the honorable youth are wise," said the fickle crowd; and Nicholas continued, "That there has been robbery, there can be no doubt, my friends; for, notwithstanding the god promised to cure the daughter of this worthy man, she has passed to the yellow stream, and, therefore, he is unworthy of his quality of godship, and should be punished; therefore, in justice to the worthy Sing, let this temple be pulled down, and the stupid idol pay the penalty in his own person."
To which the priest endeavored to reply, but the people would not listen to him, and acting upon the suggestion of Nicholas, threw a cord round the god's neck, pulled him to the ground, and belabored him with sticks and hammers.
During the proceeding the priests, who were too wise to lose their tempers, addressed a knot of lookers-on, vehemently threatening them with terrible misfortunes, but at the same time declaring, that if Sing would come to some agreement, the god, who was of a short temper, would do what was reasonable on his part and prevent future evils. This had the desired effect upon all but Sing and some of his friends, who continued to belabor the idol till the converts to the bonze's opinion drove them away, when, becoming broken into antagonistic parties, they threw aside their weapons and fought each other with their fists, till a body of yah-yu, or city police, entered upon the ground, and seizing Sing, the principal bonze, and the two boys, as the chief rioters, hurried them off to the police tribunal.
As for the mob, no sooner had the prisoners been removed, than mortified at the profanity into which they had been hurried, they gathered together the fragments of the deity, stuck them together as well as possible, washed him, and fell at his feet, exclaiming, "In truth we have been a little too hasty, but then your godship has been a little too slow in performing your promises, and thus brought the beating upon yourself. But still it is a good saying, that 'what has been done can't be undone.' Let us, therefore, think no more of this matter, and if you will forget what has passed we will repair thy temple and gild you over again."
For fear that my reader may think this episode exaggerated, I must assure him that similar scenes are even now of frequent occurrence—and why not? For although idolaters, the Chinese are neither enthusiasts nor fanatics. With the greater part, the worship of idols is an inheritance which it would be impossible to reject;—it is custom they worship. Moreover, like ourselves, they are a business-like people, and will have money's worth for money; therefore, if they pay an idol for a certain quantity of work, and he does not complete his contract, they give him a sound thrashing—and the principle is not a bad one after all.
With the proverbial rudeness of most small officials, the yah-yu threw cords around the arms of the prisoners and dragged them along the streets, amid the jeers and laughter of the populace, who, enjoyed the prospect of the probable punishment of so serious an offence as rioting, namely, being led about the streets with the cangue, a wooden collar as large as a small table, around their necks; but in this the Chinese crowd was not worse than others in Europe, for, with shame be it said, a tendency to indulge in the minor miseries of their fellows is the cruel propensity of most masses.
When they came to the tribunal they found it crowded with people, who were standing upon either side of the hall, so as to form a lane by which to approach the mandarin, who was sitting at a table, upon which stood a box of bamboo reeds, tipped with yellow; upon his left side sat the secretary, and upon his right stood three men with ominous-looking bamboo canes in their hands. The first case heard was that of a youth whose propensity for gaming had led him to squander a large sum of money lent to him by his father for the purpose of commencing business. I must tell you however, that before bringing the boy before a tribunal, the father had fruitlessly tried every method of kindness. Having listened patiently, the mandarin severly reprimanded the youth, then taking fifty of the yellow-tipped reeds threw them on the ground as a signal for the men with canes to give him fifty blows. Before, however, they could obey, his mother, with tears in her eyes, threw herself at the mandarin's feet, begging of him to pardon her son. Being a kind-hearted man the magistrate complied, but ordering to be brought to him a volume written by one of the emperors for the instruction of his subjects, and opening it at a particular part, said, "Promise O youth, to renounce gambling and to listen to your father's directions, and I will pardon you this time; but that you may not forget, go and kneel in the gallery of the hall of audience and learn by heart this chapter on filial obedience, which till you repeat and solemnly promise to observe obedience, you shall not depart from this tribunal."
The youth being delighted at this lenient sentence bowed his forehead to the earth, and, moreover, I must tell you, kept his promise, although he was three days learning the task. Such being the spirit of the laws, and the paternal mildness with which they are for the most part carried out, excepting only in cases of high treason, we need not wonder that this great population has submitted to their rule for four thousand years.
When this case was over the chief of the yah-yu bowed to the ground and charged his prisoners generally with rioting to the disturbance of the public peace.
"What has the priest of Fo to say to this disgraceful charge? let him open his lips," said the mandarin. Whereupon the bonze fell upon his knees and accused the innkeeper of attacking the idol and leading a mob to destroy the monastery.
"What sayest the innkeeper? for surely the offence is serious," said the mandarin.
Then, bowing to the ground, the innkeeper related the morning's adventure, stating that but for the assistance of Nicholas and Chow, the bonze would have killed him, adding, "Truly, O jewel of justice, thy mean servant demands the punishment of this rascal bonze and his trumpery god, who, notwithstanding the sums paid to them, have permitted his only child to be carried from this life."
Having listened patiently to both sides, the mandarin said, "It is true that two offences have been committed, the one against the public peace, and the other against a private person. The former, being the most heinous, must be first dealt with; and, as without the bonze and the innkeeper, there could have been no such disturbance, let both be corrected with twenty blows. As for the two youths, who were drawn into this disturbance, let them pay half a tael each to some poor person to receive ten blows for them."
The sentence having gone forth, the men with the bamboos caught hold of the culprits, threw them upon the floor, and they received a similar punishment to that dealt out by a schoolmaster upon a refractory pupil; after which, the delinquents, smarting with pain, humbly returned thanks for this benevolent and fatherly correction.
"As for the second offence," said the mandarin, "it is clear that the bonze is either a rogue or no good judge of the powers of the different gods, and knew not to which to apply for this particular favor, an ignorance that has caused the innkeeper to lose his goods; and, in either case, is unfit for his office; therefore, if he is found within the city walls after this night, he shall be placed in the cangue for three moons. As for the god himself, who is the principal party concerned, let him be plucked down from his seat as a useless and malicious deity."
Thus compelled, by custom, to recognize the foolish superstition of Fo, although he no more believed in it than you do, the mandarin humorously punished the bonze.
The wily priest, however, had not quite played out his game, so, dissembling his rage at the result of the trial, he fell upon his knees, saying, "Pardon, O ever-flowing stream of justice, but the meanest and most insignificant servant of Fo, dares claim a reward for a great act."
"What words are these, thou dog of a bonze?' said the angry official.
"If the eyeballs of thy contemptible servant are straight in their sockets, he has seen placards bearing the character of the illustrious tsong-tou (viceroy) of the province promising twenty taels for any follower of the Christian priests, whose houses of prayer have been so wisely destroyed.
"What useless words are these, for where in this city is such a dog to be found, since they were hunted down by the illustrious governor? may he live a thousand years," replied the mandarin.
"This was a terrible surprise to Nicholas, for not only did it convince him that the persecution of the Christians had commenced, but that his own mission had somehow been discovered by the priest; nor was he disappointed, when the latter said, 'Truly, O grand canal of justice, that turbulent youth is even now on a treasonable errand to the Christian priest, Adam, who has so traitorously fled the city.'"
"These are dog's words, thou rogue of a bonze," said the boy.
Not regarding the interruption, the priest added, as he placed a paper in the hand of the mandarin, "The dragon vision of the lord of justice will discover to him that his servant's words are pearls of truth."
Having glanced at the paper, the mandarin said sternly to Nicholas, "Thou art young to be concerned in treason, and yet these characters warn the priest, Adam, against the great Ching-Ti, whom the anonymous writer tells him is about to arrive at Hang-tcheou, specially charged by the Son of Heaven to root out the Christian priests."
"As this is the first time, O mandarin, that thy servant's ears drink in this intelligence he must have been innocent of the contents of that packet," replied Nicholas.
"The youth is young; but, like the body of a snake, his words are twirling and slippery. It is true, those characters may not have reached his eyes, but it is equally true that he was the bearer, for the cover is even now in his girdle," said the priest.
"Thy servant, O mandarin, cannot deny that he bore the letter, but it was in ignorance that it was a crime," said Nicholas, taking the envelope from his vest, now fully convinced that the bonze had picked his girdle.
"Although it is certain that the writer is a traitor, it is not equally so that this youth is an accomplice," said the mandarin, after examining the envelope.
"The dog is a Christian, O lord of justice; and in the name of the Son of Heaven, I claim the twenty taels," said the bonze, forgetting the submission due to a magistrate, in his rage and fear that Nicholas might escape.
"Thy words are dirt, thou turbulent rogue, for it is not clear that the youth is a Christian," said the angry mandarin, adding kindly to Nicholas, "Let the youth deny this charge and he shall be believed, for his words are straight as the flying arrow."
Here was a chance, for it was evident the mandarin was his friend. Still, notwithstanding that imprisonment for life, if not speedy death, stared him in the face, Nicholas was too brave to forswear his Saviour, and he replied, "If to be a Christian, O mandarin, is to merit death, then am I ready to die."
Then the good-natured, but disappointed magistrate said sorrowfully, "The youth is as brave as he is honest, and deserves a better fate; yet must the commands of the great tsong-tou be observed, therefore let the youth be conveyed to the great prison to await his sentence." Without a word or the movement of a muscle, the boy permitted the attendants to bind his arms.
This was too much for Chow, who, with a leap like that of a wounded hare, cried, "The priest, O great lord, is a midnight thief." But such a demonstration being against the rules of decency, the officers seized and silenced the boy by clapping a gag in his mouth. Then the mandarin ordered twenty taels to be given to the bonze, and the latter having made the customary bow was about to depart, when the magistrate said, "Now priest, relate by what means that letter came into thy possession, for it is a maxim that justice should be equally balanced."
Then the bonze related how he met the boys, and took them to the monastery, adding that as they were passing through a passage the letter having fallen from the youth's girdle, he picked it up, and divining that its contents were treasonous, retained the document for examination.
"These are dog's words," exclaimed Chow, from whose mouth the gag had been taken by the mandarin's order; "the priest is a rogue and a rat, for he stole the paper at night while my noble master slept, and although for hours thy servant believed it was a dream, and mistook the bonze for an enemy, he now remembers that after filching the letter from the girdle, the rogue opened the envelope, stole the contents, and then by some mysterious means of his own closed it again."
The bonze being about to reply, the mandarin interrupted him, saying, "Truly has it been said that although eggs are close things, the chicks will out, for the rogue forgot to explain how the letter could leave the pocket of its owner without the envelope. The theft is clear, and it is but justice to the state that the thief should receive fifty blows, and pay twenty taels of silver." This sentence was speedily executed upon the roaring coward, whose back was still sore with the first beating, and so he left the tribunal considerably worse off than he had come before it.
It was with no little distress of mind that Chow, who now loved Nicholas as a brother, parted with him at the gates of the prison. He tore his hair, beat his breast, and roared and capered as if in bodily as well as mental agony. Never should he see his noble master again; the wicked viceroy would kill him. O that he had not been a Christian, or so unwise as to admit it! These, and many other foolish things, passed through his mind, till he became wearied and fatigued. When more calm, he began to upbraid himself with folly and cowardice, for giving way to useless grief instead of setting his wits to work to aid him.
Like most Chinese, Chow believed, or at least followed, the mongrel creed of the country, and he proposed to himself to seek the aid of the gods; although even his faith in their powers had become weakened by the exhibition of the morning; at length, however, it occurred to him to seek the innkeeper, who being well to do, and an old inhabitant of Hang-tcheou, could if willing, give material assistance; if not willing, thought Chow, he must be the most ungrateful of human beings. So he went off to Sing, who was not only glad to see him, but invited him to live at the inn until they could hit upon some good scheme to rescue Nicholas; and so, that night, they talked and talked the matter over, till, becoming tired, they went to bed to sleep on it.
The next morning they compared notes as to their sleeping thoughts. The result of Chow's was to get a mob together to burst open the prison gates; at which very wise suggestion Sing laughed loudly, greatly to the disgust of Chow, who became very angry, as he fancied the innkeeper doubted his courage; but when Sing explained a little plan of his own he capered about joyfully, and begged that they might commence immediately.
"Let us first ask the gods for a fortunate day," said Sing.
"Then will not the worthy Sing seek a temple at once?" said Chow.
This being agreed to, they started off to the suburbs, where, in a retired spot, near the great lake, they found a divining temple.
These temples, which are sprinkled through the country, are always open for the convenience of the people, who enter upon nothing of importance, whether it be marrying, burying, buying, selling, house-building, party-giving, or setting out upon a journey, without first seeking to discover in the cup of destiny a fortunate day or hour for the proposed undertaking.
Upon the altar stood a large wooden cup, filled with small sticks, marked with certain mystic characters, representing both good and ill luck. Taking up this cup, Sing began to give it sharp quick jerks, while Chow, taking hold of a book that was hanging to the wall, searched for marks to correspond with those upon the sticks which might be thrown to the ground by Sing's jerking. With serious countenances they went through this performance, Sing believing that by a peculiar scientific twist of his wrist he could jerk out a few sticks of luck. For some time, however, the sticks were obstinate, and would not move; then a sharper jerk and one jumped out, then another, and another, three in all; and Chow, having examined the luck spots very earnestly, groaned with despair, for neither bore the required mark. Then, to propitiate the god of wood, paint, and gold leaf, they burned incense and tinsel paper, and, by way of reaching the cupidity of the deity, for it is difficult to made a Chinese believe that even a god will "do something for nothing," they placed some copper coins upon the altar, enough, I suppose, to satisfy his greedy godship; for when, at the risk of spraining his wrist, Sing gave the next jerk, out jumped two of the lucky spotted sticks, and the oblique eyes of Chow began to smile so satisfactorily that there really appeared to be some danger of their meeting across his nose and melting into one big orb in the middle of his forehead. Holding the sticks above his head, the boy capered about with delight, crying, "Thanks to Tien, the day will be fortunate, for the god has promised, and there is no rogue of a bonze present to persuade him from his good intentions."
As for Sing, he was no less pleased, for, notwithstanding his previous experience, his faith was entire in the cup of destiny, as it was, indeed, in the gods.
Chow's delight was almost as great as if his master had been already rescued. However, as soon as the first ebullition had subsided he began to think how he should commence operations, and so, puzzling his brains, he walked by the side of Sing, who was also quietly endeavoring to think out some grand plan of proceeding. Thus they proceeded till they came near the walls of the city, when their attention was aroused by a terrible discord. Not a dozen yards from them was a small house (like all Chinese habitations, one story high), before which stood the wall of respect, so called, because like a brick curtain it hides the domicile from the gaze of strangers. Near the doorway stood an elderly man with two pieces of metal, which he kept clanging against each other, stopping only at intervals to fulminate at the very compass of his voice, many fearful curses and maledictions against thieves who had plundered his house, fully believing that by the agency of the gods these curses would reach and crush the thieves, wherever they might be.
"It is only old Hoang, the retired innkeeper," said Sing cooly, as if not at all regretting the misfortunes of his successful rival. He could not, however, have possessed any such paltry feeling, for he added, "Will the venerable Hoang permit his younger brother to assist him in discovering these rogues?"
"The offer of the worthy Sing is good and grateful to his mean brother, but alas! nothing can avail old Hoang, for the Fong-Choui is his enemy, and will not be satisfied till his house is destroyed," was the reply.
To explain what I must tell you, that it is one of the most remarkable and foolish beliefs of the Celestials, that, apart from sanitary reasons, the situation of a house may effect the happiness and fortunes not only of its owner, but his descendants for several generations. The demon who exercises this baneful influence is the Fong-Choui, or wind and water. Thus, if a neighbor (it had been Hoang's case) builds his house in a contrary direction and so that one of its corners is placed opposite your own, your destiny is fixed, your only remedy being to have it immediately pulled down. To obtain the removal of the house in question, Hoang had applied to the mandarin, but as that officer had received a larger bribe from the neighbor than he could afford, the official recommended the old man to pull down his own house; but as this would have ruined him, he had had recourse to the only other remedy, which was, to erect upon the roof of his house a monster with a dragon's head and a large forked tongue, so pointed at the unfortunate corner that it would frighten away the Fong-Choui. That wind and watery personage, however, was not so easily frightened, for the next day some thieves entered his house and effected a very clever robbery.
By the aid of a mysterious engine (known, I suppose, only to the thieves of China), which will burn great holes in the thickest wood without causing either scent or flame, the rogues had entered Hoang's dwelling in the night so quietly that when the old gentleman awoke in the morning he found his bed without curtains or coverlid, and the room without furniture, all of which, besides other things of value, had been taken from the house.
"Surely thy dogs of servants must have been accomplices," said Chow.
"Not so, youth, for although I slept deep into the day, when I arose the servants were all in such a deep slumber that I believed them in the sleep of death."
"Surely my elder brother will seek the mandarin, and have the dogs' heads searched for," said Sing.
"Alas! O worthy Sing, thy unhappy servant is under the baneful influence of the Fong-Choui, and the mandarin dares not interfere."
Feeling deeply for the poor man, and not liking the idea of the thieves escaping so easily, Chow asked, "Has the worthy and honorable Hoang sought the mandarin?"
"It would be useless youth, without, indeed, a stranger would interfere, and break the charm of the Fong-Choui."
"With the will of the venerable Hoang, his younger brother will seek the tribunal of police," said Chow.
Delighted with the offer, Hoang led them through the rooms of his house, which Chow examined with the talent of a detective police officer, and after pacing about for some time he stumbled. Looking to see the cause, he saw it was a small square box. "See," he said, "the robbers in their flight have dropped some of their plunder."
"Surely that box must belong to the villains, for it has never before darkened my eyes," said Hoang.
"Then by the toe of the Son of Heaven we have some clue to the way in which the robbery was effected," said Chow, as he opened the box and took out a little pyramid, resembling our own pastiles. Placing one to his nose he said, "It is the baneful drug of Setchuen. Light but one and place it near the nostrils of a sleeper, and it will be many hours before he can be awakened. In this manner, O venerable friend, has the house been robbed,—its inmates were under the influence of the drug."
"Thy discovery is great, and may lead to the capture of the thieves. Would that so poor a man could reward such a benafactor."
However, as time was an object to Chow for the success of some plan, which from the cunning brightness that flitted through his eye seemed just then to have crossed his mind, he stopped the garrulous gratitude of the old gentleman by begging the box of pastiles as his reward. This being granted, he took a very formal leave, promising not to rest till he had seen the mandarin himself.
As they walked to the inn Chow explained to Sing his plan for the rescue of Nicholas, which, after some serious consideration and many words of advice, the innkeeper approved; but as it could not be put in operation before evening, as soon as they reached the inn they went into one of the inner apartments, and while they refreshed themselves with a good meal, chatted over the details.
After they had completed their arrangements, Sing led Chow to an outbuilding, in which were two oblong coffins, the one sealed down, the other with the lid half off. The first contained the body of Sing's daughter, of whom he had been so fond in life that in death he kept her in the same room with the open coffin which had been presented to him by the girl as a filial offering.
Such gifts as this, which I dare say you will think a sombre one, are by no means more rare among the Chinese than the preservation in their own houses of the bodies of those they have loved. And just above an altar upon which incense was burning, hung a portrait of the dead girl, before which silently and with cheeks damped with tears of memory, Sing threw himself reverentially, and prayed fervently for the other world happiness of his child. Having, with as much real sympathy as mere courtesy, joined in the ceremony for a short time, Chow arose, and left the bereaved parent throwing cuttings of silver paper upon the burning dish, in the belief that in the next world it would change into real money for his daughter's use.
As when Chow reached the police tribunal he found it closed for the day, he clattered upon a large gong or kettle drum, affixed to the door, a piece of great daring on his part; for if his business did not strike the mandarin as being of the greatest importance, he might make sure of some fifty blows for his impudence, for the public officers in China are quite as averse to doing too much for the public money as many that I could name of our own.
The door was opened and the boy was shown into the hall of audience, where he had not long to wait before the mandarin and four bamboo sticks in waiting made their appearance. "How, dog! Why this clatter at our gates when the tribunal is closed?" asked the surly grandee.
"Will the magnificent fountain of justice give his unworthy servant a private hearing?" said the bold boy, glancing significantly at the bamboo sticks in waiting.
"Let the fellow's mouth be opened with ten blows for his impudence," said the polite magistrate; but as the men were about to obey, Chow thrust his hand into his robe, and pulling out a letter threw it into the great man's lap, a piece of effrontery so beyond all precedent that the bamboo sticks waiting stood aghast and ready at a glance from the mandarin to immolate the profane boy. The magistrate, however, no sooner opened the paper than in tremulous tones he exclaimed, "Leave us alone, this fellow has matters of private importance to communicate."
This order having been obeyed, Chow broke through the rules of decency and etiquette by speaking before he was spoken to. "A crime has been committed within thy district, O mandarin, yet justice sleeps. Surely this is not according to the sacred books," said he.
"What dog's words are these? of what crime speaks the youth?" said the magistrate wildly.
"According to the sacred books, O mandarin, it is the magistrate's duty to discover and punish crime within his district. Yet, not withstanding the house of the retired innkeeper Hoang is in a well-guarded quarter of the city, it has been broken into and its furniture and valuables stolen; moreover what is more surprising in so populous a district, the thieves have escaped."
"What words are these?" said the mandarin again, being in fact so troubled that he knew not what to say.
"Truly, it is a shrewd maxim; 'that large fowls will not eat small grain,' yet, the largest may be choked if too greedy, for there are still larger birds to swallow them; in turn even thou mayst be stripped of thy rank and offices, if not strangled," said Chow, adding, "Would the lord of justice wish straighter words?"
The words proved straight enough to go direct to the mark, for the mandarin fell upon his knees and begged Chow to accept half his fortune, and although it would be letting his rogue off cheaply enough, the rescue of Nicholas was his object, and he promised to forego using his knowledge of the great man's delinquency, providing that he would give him an order under the official seal that would admit him to his master's prison. Rejoiced to purchase his safety so easily, the mandarin not only gave the order, but also promised to see that Hoang's property was restored to him within a few days. After this Chow gave a paper to the magistrate, and left the tribunal well satisfied with the result of his visit.
Now, as I dare say you are anxious to know how it came about that so poor a boy could have such power over so great a personage, I will tell you, and you will obtain some little knowledge how public affairs are managed in China, and moreover, learn that dishonesty may sometimes place the greatest official beneath the thumb of the smallest of persons, as indeed it happened in this case.
When Chow was chattering over his plans with the innkeeper he examined the box of pastiles, and on taking them out, discovered a paper at the bottom, evidently placed there for security, as the thieves could not have dreamt of leaving their most valuable implements behind. That paper was an order for four men, whose names were mentioned, to pass to the boats on the canal, with any quantity of goods, without questioning, and was signed with the character of the mandarin, which accounted for the thieves getting off with so many things, but it also proved that the mandarin was in connivance with them, and was in the habit of granting these passes to robbers in return for a large bribe. Now, as Chow could write very well, he immediately composed a letter to the mandarin, telling him the whole transaction, and, moreover, that the thieves were well known to a friend of his, who, if he did not return by a certain time that evening, would disclose the whole matter to the viceroy; therefore it was not to be wondered that the great man trembled and implored of Chow to accept half his fortune, for had it been brought before the viceroy he would, as Chow more than, hinted, in all probability have been strangled.
Having, at the same time, secured an order for admittance to Nicholas and the restitution of old Hoang's property, Chow went in search of a shop, where he purchased a rope of silk, and returned to the prison, which was next to the tribunal.
At that time far in advance, and even now not much worse than our own, the prisons of China are large and spacious, and although some of the most criminal of the inmates are loaded with chains, the greater number are permitted to take exercise and converse with each other in an open court during the day. Their health is cared for,—if any are ill a physician attends them, and when a death takes place a report is sent to the Emperor, who issues orders for an examination, something like our inquests, into the cause, when should it appear that any of the officers are at fault, they are immediately degraded and punished. When a prisoner dies the body is not permitted to pass through the ordinary doorway, but through an opening reserved for the purpose. It is seldom, however, that deaths occur in these places, for should a person, especially above the lowest rank in life, be in danger, he or his friends pray that he may be taken without the walls to expire; indeed, so infamous is it considered for a corpse to be taken through this dead opening, that "May he be dragged through the prison hole" is the greatest expression of evil a person can wish his enemy.
The prison in which Nicholas was confined was a large building, with its front to the street and its back to the canal. There were three courts, each having treble gates, well guarded by armed sentries. Chow found no difficulty in passing the first two gates, but the third was under the charge of the chief gaoler, who not only made him show the mandarin's order, but ordered two soldiers to accompany the boy to his master's cell, which was situated at the top of one of the four corners or towers, and overlooking the canal.
The armed men he met at every turn, and the dismal-looking strength of the halls, courts, doors, and staircases through which he passed, made Chow feel very wretched, for not an atom of a chance could he see for a prisoner to escape. However no sooner did he again get sight of Nicholas than all difficulties vanished, his countenance brightened, and the affectionate fellow fell at his feet and wept with joy.
"How is this? surely thou art not a Christian, my poor friend, that they should bring thee here?" said Nicholas sorrowfully.
"Truly both servant and master are fortunate, for the mandarin has permitted them to keep each other company."
For some minutes Chow squatted upon the floor with his head bent to the ground, apparently in grief at his master's position. Really, he had not calculated upon the presence of the two gaolers; it was an awkward dilemma, still he was not one to stick at a difficulty, and so he began to think. His were not pleasant thoughts, for it was just possible that the mandarin on recovering from his fright might tremble at the probable consequences of permitting the escape of Nicholas, and to make his own peace confess the whole affair to the Christian-hating viceroy.
Having finished cogitating, Chow commenced a lively conversation with Nicholas about any thing and every thing but what was most on his mind; then he endeavored to chat with the surly gaolers; the attempt, however, proved a failure, till he brought forth a porcelain bottle filled with rice spirit. When the men grew better tempered, Chow said, "Is there any law that will prevent the honorable guard from bestowing upon his servants some hot tea, for surely it will refresh them?" Without making any reply, one of the gaolers opened the door and called aloud for the beverage.
Some minutes after swallowing the tea, Chow rolled over upon the floor, and howled like a dog; which extraordinary proceeding so alarmed Nicholas and the men, that one of the latter, throwing down his weapon, fell upon his knees and began to rub the sufferer's stomach. "Will the ungrateful villains let me die the dog's death for the want of a cup of water?" Surprised as they were at such a remedy, the frightened men provided the water, but at the same time pointed to the porcelain flask.
For the hint the patient thanked them, but he knew it would be of no use without hot water. Would the honorable gaolers get some?
That was another affair, for to ask for hot water would be to proclaim that rice spirit was being drunk in the prison, when gaolers as well as prisoners would be bambooed.
Then, having coaxed and importuned for some time fruitlessly, Chow held his hand upon his stomach, and alarmed Nicholas with performing a long series of tragic-comic grimaces and contortions, when seeing the men begin to tremble at the heavy punishment that awaited them if a prisoner died beneath their charge, he said, "Surely the noble guardians would not have it proclaimed to the next visiting mandarin that they have been drinking the prohibited spirit."
Perceiving now that they were upon the horns of a dilemma, the gaolers hesitated. Then a bright thought came to one, and he said, "Truly, the tea is cold; a fire-pan will warm it; and so it will not be suspected that rice spirit has been brought into the prison." Thus settling the matter to his satisfaction, the man procured a small dish of fire and a cup of cold water, when Chow had another attack, and in his paroxysms kicked over his tea-cup, and then very inconsistently clamored for cold water. This request being complied with, the patient sipped and appeared a degree better, for he then stood upon his feet and thanked his deliverers, and, moreover, offered them some more spirit, an offence which was repeated and accepted till both gaolers became very good-humored and talkative, first to Chow, then to Nicholas. Finding that they were busy with the latter, Chow sauntered up to the fire and sat before it, as if to prevent another attack by its heat. Then a sweet perfume pervaded the atmosphere, and so gradually increased in strength, that, imperceptibly to themselves, the tongues of the men slackened by degrees, their loud tones softened into silence, their heads waved gently to and fro, till, overcome by the density of the air, they fell sideways upon the ground. It was not far to fall, for they had been squatting upon the floor during their jovial conversation. Then taking a large sponge that he had been holding to his own nostrils, Chow held it to the nose of Nicholas, who, not being intoxicated with spirit, soon exhibited signs of returning animation, when creeping up to the drooping gaolers, he passed something, not a sponge, near to their nostrils, which seemed to have the effect of double locking their senses. Then leading the half-insensible Nicholas to the window, he took a knife from his girdle and cut away the painted paper panes, when the cold air soon made the master as sensible as the servant.
Arresting by a sign, Nicholas's exclamations of surprise at these proceedings, Chow pulled forth the silken cord, fastened one end to the table, then tying his knife to the other end he let it gently down, and hung out of the window with it in his hand, as if he had been fishing. In a few minutes he obtained a bite, for the rope gave a jerk. This being satisfactory, he whispered to his master to descend by the loops. Nicholas complied, and in one minute found himself in the arms of some person, and in another, carried into a small room, about large enough to hold four men. A minute more, Chow entered the cabin, the boat began to glide along the canal, and Nicholas comprehended the whole of Chow's scheme. Now you have the reason of his delight in seizing upon the box of pastiles, two of which he had managed to light while his back was turned to the gaolers. The cold water Chow knew to be an antidote to the stupifying effects of the perfume, if applied immediately, as in the case of Nicholas. As for the boy's illness, that was a ruse, and a very good one too, under the circumstances.
When the boat had run a sufficient distance from the prison, Sing, for he it was who had so ably aided in the escape, putting a pole in the hands of Nicholas, and taking one himself, they forced the little craft along the waters with the greatest possible speed. As for Chow, not finding another pole, and resolved not to be left out of the good work, he took off his boots, threw his legs over the stern, and helped to propel the boat by paddling against the water with his feet. By these means, in a very short time, they arrived at the back of Sing's house, which fortunately faced the canal. It was thus, indeed, that the innkeeper had been enabled to pass to the prison in the little san-pan which he had borrowed from a friendly boatman.
Going into the house to caution his wife against feeling alarmed at his probably prolonged absence, he left them for a few minutes, and when he returned they had no small cause to rejoice at his thoughtfulness, for his wife had just heard from one of the prison attendants, who lived at the inn, that about half an hour after their escape the relief guard of gaolers had discovered their absence, and sent a body of yah-yu, both by land and water, to recapture them.
"By the toe of the Emperor, the villain god has deceived me, for he promised a fortunate day," said Chow.
"It is thy head and heart, and not the foolish images, that have hitherto helped thee, Chow. We will now trust to the same aids, and by the assistance of the One true God, these rogues shall not overtake us," said Nicholas.
"The noble youth is brave, but he may not perform impossibilities," replied Sing.
"Truly it is not far to the river," said Nicholas.
"The river!" exclaimed Sing, with affright. "Truly Fo himself could not make a boat live upon the river such a night as this, at the full of the moon."
"It is our only safety, for these rascal yah-yu dare not follow," said Nicholas, who regarded the great and dangerous waters of the river as his native element, adding, "If thou, Chow, but show a brave heart."
"Truly, my master, Chow fears not men, but surely it would be a vile thing to anger the god of the waters, who may this night swallow all who dare to pass from the estuary."
"Art thou an idiot, that after the exhibition at the monastery, the folly of these toy gods of the bonzes is not imprinted upon thine eyeballs?" said Nicholas, adding angrily, "But if thou fearest, hide thee with the good Sing, and thy master will brave the torrents alone."
"This thing may not be, O noble Nicholas, for rather than leave thee, thy servant would be a hundred times swallowed by Yen-Vang himself," said Chow.
"Thou art brave, youth, and may it please Fo to conduct thee safely to thy journey's end," said Sing, adding with alarm, "But see, yonder is the boat of the yah-yu, for surely no other would be in motion at this hour of the night."
"Then," said Nicholas, looking at a red light which appeared to be fixed at the prow of a moving boat, "we must labor for our lives, Chow."
Then taking a silent but hearty farewell of the innkeeper, the youths clutched the poles and in another minute they were gliding along the water street unheeded, except by the watchmen, whose questions they answered with a few copper coins, and they pushed on through the dark night, till nearly worn out with the exertion. The fact, however, that they were toiling for their lives, lent them additional strength, so after a short rest, away they went again in right good earnest; then the hum of distant voices floated through the night air. Resting for a moment Chow placed his ear near to the water, saying, "Truly they are following us, but more, my master, we are near the great dike, which it would be as easy to pass as to swallow a mountain."
"Courage, O Chow, let us pass the dike, and the rats will never overtake us," said Nicholas, toiling harder than ever at the pole.
This dike or sluice divided from the canal the waters of the river which Nicholas had been so anxious to reach, but as Chow knew they could not get the boat hauled over by Coolies at that hour of the night, he could perceive nought but a barrier that by arresting their progress, must put them in the hands of their enemies; still not liking to disobey, he toiled at his pole, and speedily the boat came alongside some twenty others, which had arrived too late to be hauled over that night.
Nicholas, however, knowing the influence of money, determined to get over the difficulty. So fetching the lantern from the cabin, he so shaded its light with his robe, that while it could not be seen by their pursuers, he could see moored some distance from them a little fleet of san-pans. This he had expected, so gently pushing the boat alongside one of them he tapped upon the egg-like roof, and in another minute a man put out his head, when putting a piece of silver in his hand, as an earnest of a greater reward, the boatman acquiesced, and in a few minutes more he had aroused some of his fellows, who very nimbly set about mooring their boats till they had drawn them across the canal, so as to form a barricade, in the event of the enemy making its appearance; after which the boatman fastened a stout rope around the stern of the boys' boat, got into his own, and cautioning them to hold on by the roof of the cabin, with the assistance of some dozen of his mates in their boats, forced the little craft to the summit of the stone slope, when all clinging to the rope, let her slide gently down the other side into the river, when silently the san-pans moved back to their moorings, so that upon their arrival at the dike the yah-yu must have been strangely puzzled at the boy's escape from their clutches.
The dangers of the river, however, were far greater than Nicholas had calculated, for the great stream upon whose bosom they had embarked, was at times as tempestuous as the ocean, and they possessed neither oars nor sails; as for the poles, the great depth of the river rendered them useless. Again, the night was so dark, that except by the feeble light of their lantern they could not see each other's faces; their only consolation was, that the waters were then as smooth and tranquil as those of the canal, except that a rapid current seemed to be sweeping them along without an effort of their own.
"May the great god Fo protect us against Ma-tsoo-po, to whom we can offer no incense," said Chow.
"How! Can it be that one so brave on land should be so great a coward upon water?" said Nicholas.
"Truly it is a maxim, my master that, 'all are cowards who can't help themselves.' Chow in the waters would be less than the least of little fishes, for he cannot swim," was the gloomy reply.
"It is also a maxim, 'that the gods forsake those who forsake themselves,'" said Nicholas, adding, "But it is fatigue, my poor Chow, that destroys thy courage; get thee, therefore, into the cabin and rest for a time, while I keep watch."
"Nay, Fo protect us, or we are food for the favorites of the god of the waters," replied Chow, as the boat at that moment made a tremulous movement, which so alarmed Nicholas, that clutching hold of Chow's arm, he said, "Now put forth all thy energies or we are lost, for the 'bore' is upon us."
This was sufficient, for in the presence of real danger Chow soon drove away the troubled fancies of his brain.
"The poles are our only chance," said Nicholas, and, quickly as thought, they fastened their poles to the sides, so that they stretched out like two great arms. "Let us but keep our whole weight steadily upon the handles, and we may keep her course straight," said Nicholas; and no sooner had they thrown themselves across the poles than a noise like that of distant thunder rumbled through the air; it was the great tide wave rolling like a mountain toward them. Now they could not escape; so, commending their souls to Heaven, they awaited its approach with suspended breath. It came, and, with a roar, caught up the boat, carrying it to a height of fifty feet; in another second the boys were covered with a cold sweat at the narrowness of their escape, which had been owing to their precaution. Then followed a calm, as if the anger of the watery element had subsided. The boys slackened their hold of the poles, and so they continued for two hours, going they knew not whither. Suddenly the boat began to rock.
"To your pole, Chow," cried Nicholas. No sooner had he complied, than they found they had entered upon a rapid, for the little craft shot forth almost with the velocity of an arrow. Then came the first faint streaks of daybreak, and they trembled, for they saw that they had entered a narrow creek. "Steady, for our lives, there is hope yet, for yonder vessel may see us," said Nicholas. The vessel to which he alluded was a large junk, so skilfully handled that she seemed to be stemming the torrent. Gaining hope, the boys clung to their only chance, namely, keeping the poles in their fixed positions. Another half hour, however, and their strength became exhausted, the poles quivered, the boys felt they could not hold out much longer; still another determined effort; their minds lent strength to their limbs. Then the first light of the sun, an eastern sun, shone upon the junk, and disclosed a huge painted eye (the government emblem), at the sight of which, and screaming aloud "The yah-yu!" Chow let go his hold, fell backward, and one pole being thus released, the boat lost its equilibrium, the pole of Nicholas snapped, and she swang round like a Catherine wheel. They were in a whirlpool—nothing could save them—then came a fearful crash, and neither Chow nor Nicholas could distinguish more.
With the wild whirling of the waters ringing in his ears, and the great painted eye before his vision, Nicholas stared around. Where could he be? He was lying upon a mat, in a small low room; he sat up, endeavored to comprehend his position, and the san-pan, the bore, the torrent, the whirlpool, all flashed across him—but where could he be? There before him stood a copper god, hideously grinning at a pan of burning incense. Surely it must be the cabin of a junk—but what?—whose? Possibly the yah-yu's. It must be so; and, brave as he was, he shuddered. Then, looking out of the window, he could see nothing but a vast extent of paddy (rice in the husks) fields. Then he saw the junk was passing along a canal, which, from its width, he knew must be the great Imperial Canal. Then Chow—poor Chow—and as he believed him to have been swallowed up in the waters, the gallant boy burst into tears; and this great grief banished every selfish thought from his mind. Then he trembled for the safety of his letters; but, feeling beneath his robe, he found them secure. Again he wept for Chow, and, happening to look at the god, the hideous little brute seemed to be rejoicing at his troubles, and in momentary rage he knocked the deity off its perch with his fist, with such violence that the pain and blood upon his lacerated knuckles immediately reminded him of the stupidity of the act, and he laughed at his folly; but reflecting that the captain of the vessel might visit such an insult to the image upon himself he replaced it in its original position.
At that moment the door opened, and Chow entered with a tray, upon which were two cups, a jar, and other materials for a meal, and in his surprise exclaiming "Chow!" the latter was so much startled that he nearly dropped the tray.
"May Tien be thanked; my master is far from Yen-Vang."
"Where are we, O Chow?" said Nicholas, recovering from his surprise; but the boy would answer no questions until Nicholas had partaken of the meal.
As soon as by eating and drinking, he had satisfied Chow that he was really alive, the latter said, "Truly the gods must have been favorably disposed toward the noble Nicholas, to have kept him alive for so many days and nights, without brains in his head or food in his mouth."
"What words are these, O Chow?" said Nicholas, placing his hand to his forehead, as if making an effort to decipher the boy's meaning.
"Let my master open his ears," said Chow; adding, "Worn out with my exertions in the boat, I no sooner perceived the terrible eye than I loosened my hold of the pole, and either from fright or fatigue, became insensible; the water, however, revived me, and looking for my master, I saw him lying by my side upon a shelving edge of rock, for, thanks be to Fo, we had dashed upon the rock, the servant with out harm, but the master receiving such a blow that it deprived him of his senses; when, alarmed for his life, I shouted to the crew of the junk for help, and begged of them to take us on board, but the rats refused, saying, that as the gods had evidently reserved us for drowning, to resist would be to provoke Ma-tsoo-po. Then, as my only hope, I shouted to them that I had secured a traitor for whose head fifty taels were offered."
"Surely thou art not a rogue." But not noticing this, Chow continued, "The hope of so much silver made the rogues carry us on board, and then poor Chow could have swallowed fire, for when he begged of them to use means to recall thee to thy senses, the dog of a captain said, 'Know thou rat of a boy, that if fifty taels are offered for the rascal's head, it will save trouble to lop it off at once.' Then Fo sent a thought into my brainless head, and falling at the captain's feet, I told him that so great were thy crimes, that although fifty taels would be given for thy head, five hundred and a mandarin's button would be given for thy whole body.
"Then said the captain, 'the dog utters words of wisdom,' and fearing to lose the silver, if you died, he commanded a physician who happened to be on board to make thee sound and whole, and moreover, promised to reward me with ten taels if I helped to bring thee round."
But as they heard approaching footsteps, Chow said softly, "Get thee to thy mat, it is the physician; do not let him bring thee to thy senses, or we are lost."
By the time Nicholas had lain down, an elderly man, with a small funnel and a porcelain cup in his hands, entered the cabin, and with as much meaningless mystery of manner as one of our doctors, knelt by his side and commenced the comical operation of feeling his pulse, or rather pulses, for the physician's hands and fingers traveled up and down the boy's body like a flea in search of a choice bite. Having gone through this performance, he placed the funnel in the patient's mouth, and poured down his throat a decoction of the gen-seng root, a plant which the Chinese believe will cure all ills; and, disagreeable and difficult as it was, Nicholas swallowed it, which so delighted the old gentleman that he left the cabin chuckling, but telling Chow on no account to attempt to awake him for the next three hours, as he was assured that nature was bringing him to by her own means.
"Verily the old cheat believes I have a fever," said Nicholas, jumping up as soon as the doctor had left the cabin.
Chow, who had been gazing from the window of the cabin while the physician was present, no sooner saw him leave than he said, "We shall leave the dogs now;" adding, "Let the noble Nicholas remain senseless till Chow returns," and without another word he left the cabin.
For some time Nicholas remained quiet upon the mat, but getting tired he arose, and looking out of the window he saw that the junk was in the middle of the canal, and from the great quantity of boats knew they were near to some great city. He had not, however, been looking long, when to his surprise he saw one of these san-pans come alongside the junk, and taking Chow on board, paddled off to the shore, where he remained for some time, and then was brought back to the junk. What could that mean? Surely Chow was not playing him false. No he was ashamed of the thought. The boy must be concocting some scheme for his benefit; but hearing footsteps he resumed his position upon the mat, and in another minute the physician and Chow entered. This time the doctor only went through the pulse performance, saying, "Now if the rascal would but move a limb it would show that Fo and the immortal drug had sent the blood into his muscles."
A comical notion came into the patient's head; it was dangerous, but it might prevent the necessity of the funnel being put in his throat, and so with a slight yawn he suddenly gave the old gentleman such a kick on the shins that he started with surprise, but delighted that his treatment had succeeded, he said, "Truly the rogue is getting his strength," and hopped out of the room, uttering maledictions upon the sailors for robbing him of his gen-seng.
"What meant the rat by those words?" said Nicholas, and he was more than satisfied when Chow told him the following story: The doctor placed implicit faith in the wonderful curative powers of the famous gen-seng, a quantity of which he carried about with him, ready for any accident that might happen. Knowing this, Chow had managed to secure the whole, and, as he anticipated, when the old gentleman discovered his loss he grew furious, and told the captain that Nicholas would die. The captain being in fear of losing his reward, had all the men searched, and not a few beaten with the bamboo. It was all of no use. What was to be done? Chow offered to go ashore and procure some; the captain agreed, a signal was made for a boatman, who, as we have seen, came off to the junk, took Chow ashore, from whence he returned with the much-prized plant, which, by the way, he had no greater trouble in obtaining than putting his hand in a hole in the lining of his outer garment.
While in the boat Chow had made good use of his time, for he had bribed the boatman to bring his little craft alongside the junk about the middle of the third watch.
The night is divided into five watches; the first begins at seven and is distinguished by a single stroke, which is repeated every minute till the second watch, when two blows are given, and so with the third, fourth, and fifth.
Anxiously did they await the treble sound; at length it came,—one, two, three,—and they stood with breathless expectation; about the tenth minute of the third watch there was a tap at the paper window, when pulling out his knife, Chow ran the blade around the paper, and the next moment the end of a rope was thrown through. Making this fast to a hook within the cabin, Nicholas crept legs foremost through the hole, and catching hold of a rope swang himself into the san-pan. Chow followed, and they crawled into the little cabin, when the san-pan glided away, not, however, without arousing one of the sailors, who believing that the boat had crept alongside with some nefarious design upon the property of the vessel, sharply warned the boatman of the danger of any such attempt, as he was on thequi vive. The boatman, however, having given a satisfactory reply, he pushed onward, and after passing through a little world of junks, san-pans, and barges, they managed to effect a landing without being noticed. After which, the man having fastened his boat led them through the suburbs till they reached a small mud hut, from the top of which issued a wreathing column of flame and smoke.
"It is the hut of a sentry," exclaimed Nicholas, who knew that the signal huts were distributed at distances of about a mile apart throughout the interior, as a warning to all would-be depredators that the police were on the alert, and this being precisely the kind of place they should have avoided, he said, "For what purpose has the worthy boatman brought us to this hut."
"Truly, my master, we are in safe hands, for the man on duty is the boatman's brother and will let us hide here till morning," said Chow, and the next moment they were within the hut partaking of a portion of the soldier's fare of hot tea and rice bread.