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"I suppose so. But I say," continued Blunt dryly; "wouldn't you have liked to bring that monkey away with you?"
"I should," cried Stan eagerly.
"Yes, of course; but it's as well not. I know those chaps. They're wonderfully strong and vicious. Only safe in a cage. We couldn't have done with him here. I say, shouldn't you like to make one with me in an expedition to knock that prison to pieces?"
"Yes," cried Stan eagerly. "Could it be done?"
"Yes, if we went to war; but I dare say if proper application were made we could get compensation. We shall see I say, though, what about that gathering of war-junks you saw? Not piratical craft, were they?"
"I don't know," replied Stan. "I had thought no more of them. I thought more, however, of that poor boy's boat that I took."
"Ah! that was a bit of an annexation. Never mind; I'll send it back to the Chinese merchants we deal with; they'll find out whom it belongs to."
"'Longs to," said Stan slowly.
"Hullo!" cried Blunt. "What's the matter? Feel ill?"
"Hi? I--Oh, I can't help it; I'm so stupidly sleepy I can't keep my eyes open, and I could hardly understand what you said last--so dreadfully drowsy I don't know what to do."
"I'll tell you," said Blunt, smiling.
"Do, please. Go and bathe my face?"
"No," said Blunt. "Off with you and tumble into bed."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
"NOT A BIT DEAD."
"What will you do about poor Wing?" said Stan the morning after his return, when he was out on the wharf, all the better for bed, bath, and breakfast.
"Wait," said Blunt, frowning.
"Wait? In such an emergency, with the poor fellow regularly murdered?"
"We don't know that yet, youngster," said the manager. "You did not see him murdered, and you did not see his body."
"No; but--"
"Exactly; but I've known Wing longer than you have. He is a very quiet fellow, but he is full of resource, and being amongst his fellow-countrymen, I think it very doubtful about his having been killed."
"I only hope you are right," said Stan; "but there was a desperate fight."
"No--not desperate. You see that though you were one they looked upon as an enemy they did not kill you, and evidently never intended anything of the kind."
"Well, no; I don't think they meant to kill me."
"I'm sure they did not. If they had, they would have done it. In fact, I hardly know why they took you at all. It seems to me more out of idle recklessness than anything else; a party of rough soldiery with nothing to do, and under very little control. They have some discipline, but it is very slight. It's a rarity for them to get any pay, even when they are on duty. There seems to have been a detachment hanging about the gate of the city, doing as they pleased, and dependent upon the people coming in to the market for their supplies. They saw you, a stranger, pa.s.sing the place; and as there was no one to check them, they followed and pounced upon you."
"But what for?"
"Ah! what for? I can only place one construction upon the act."
"And what is that?" asked Stan.
"The one you suggested."
"I? I suggested none."
"Yes--by your words. What did you say they did?"
"Nothing but behave to me in a very insulting way, and refuse to carry a message or fetch help."
"Yes, they did."
"Yes, I see what you mean. The insolent creatures! They treated me just as if I were another monkey."
"To be sure; and made a show of you."
"Yes," said Stan, beginning to swell with indignation. "Brought no end of people into the yard beyond the bars of the prison grating."
"And who were the people?"
"Oh, I don't know. Rough-looking country-folk."
"To be sure. People coming in from the country; and if we knew the truth of the matter, depend upon it, they took some toll in some kind of provisions for giving them a peep at the Tchili monkey and the foreign devil they had caught."
"Oh, I say, Mr Blunt, don't!" cried Stan quickly. "It's horrible.
It's so degrading."
"Well, it was not pleasant, my lad," said the manager, smiling; "but you couldn't help its being degrading, and you gave them the slip."
"But you'll send a report to my father and uncle, so that they can lay the matter before the Consul?"
"I will if you like; but if I do, it will be a very long business. It will be to maintain the English dignity, but only at the expense of a few poor wretches in a distant part of the country, who will be taken and bastinadoed--perhaps decapitated."
"Oh! I don't wish that," cried Stan quickly.
"Whether you wish it or not it will be done, to quiet the foreign settlers and traders and to keep up our prestige. It may be right, only the mischief is that the right men will not be punished."
"What! not the soldiers?"
"No," said Blunt; "they'll escape for certain. The mandarins will never catch them."
"Then I shouldn't like to feel that I had been the cause of the punishment of innocent people. But I do feel that such a crime as the murder of poor Wing ought not to go unpunished."
"So do I," said Blunt; "and it must not. But, as I say, we don't know that he is dead yet."