The Flying Boat Part 10

he thought, "and look-see my belongey 'nother ma.s.sa! My no catchee plopa pidgin[#] that time, galaw!" And after an hour's solemn meditation he got up, groaning as the movement reminded him of his stripes, and went out into the town.

[#] That won't be good business.

Outside a mean little eating-house he saw a group of insurgents eating a breakfast (for which they had not paid) of fat pork, rice and beans, washed down with tea. He looked at them hard; none of the looters of his master's bungalow were among them; and it occurred to him that, as he had probably a long journey before him, it was sound sense to fortify himself with a meal. But he had no money; and though he guessed, by the lugubrious countenance of the eating-house keeper in the background, that the eaters had none either, or at any rate would not part with any, he was shy of joining himself to them uninvited. All at once a happy thought struck him. He put on an engaging air of cheerful humility, and addressing the group in the terms of flowery compliment that come natural to a Chinaman, he offered to show them a little magic in return for food. Being as comfortable and content as men may be who have fed well at another's expense, they gave a glad a.s.sent, and Lo San, squatting before them, produced the pack of cards. He was a very watchful and observant person, and, silent and unnoticed in his master's room, had looked on sometimes when Errington amused his company with those tricks that seem to the uninitiated such marvels of thought-reading. He had picked up the secrets of one or two, and now for a good hour he amazed and mystified the rebels with simple tricks which he had to repeat over and over again.

Thus establishing himself in their good graces, he accepted with unctuous grat.i.tude the food which they dealt out to him--somewhat meagrely, as a sea-beach audience rewards its entertainers; and then, praising their valour, generously b.u.t.tering them, he led them on to talk of the doings of the day. It was not long before he had heard more than enough about the exceeding greatness of Su Fing, their august chief, whose Chinese virtues shone with the l.u.s.tre of the sun: and with quick wit he jumped to the conclusion that his master had been captured by emissaries of Su Fing, who to be sure had reason to remember his only meeting with the Englishman. The prisoner had without doubt been carried to the rebel chief's headquarters at Meichow, higher up the river; and Lo San made up his mind that it was his plain duty to journey to Meichow and discover what his master's fate was to be.

Putting up the cards very carefully, for they had a new value for him, he kow-towed to his ill.u.s.trious benefactors, as he called the sorry ruffians, and took his way to the riverside. The river was crowded with various craft of the insurgents, and some distance down stream the launch on which the Europeans had been placed was puffing towards Sui-Fu. Lo San, primed with information gleaned from his late hosts, found it now an easy matter to pa.s.s himself off as a rebel, especially as he contrived to get possession of a spear which had been incautiously laid down by its owner. Swaggering with a truculent air among the crowd, he soon discovered from their talk that the Europeans had been released, and supposed that his master was among them. But just as he was considering which of the sampans lying at the sh.o.r.e he should appropriate for a night journey to Sui-Fu, he was unlucky enough to catch the eye of a seller of wood, whom he had kicked from the house a day or two before for asking an absurd price. This man also had armed himself with a spear, and letting out a fierce "Hai yah!" he sprang towards Lo San to avenge himself for his kicking, at the same time acquainting people at large with the fact that the wretch was the impudent wind-inflated hireling of a foreign devil. The unhappy consequence was that Lo San was set upon by a dozen others besides the wood-seller, and soundly thrashed a second time for the same offence, an injustice that wounded his soul even more poignantly than the spear-b.u.t.ts his body.

But there was compensation even in this, for while his persecutors were belabouring him, they let their tongues wag freely with abuse and objurgation, and the wood-seller taunted him with the loss of his master, who would soon, he said, be "sliced" for the amus.e.m.e.nt of the august Su Fing. Lo San, when left to himself, reflected that but for this second beating he might have gone down uselessly to Sui-Fu, when his master had been carried in a quite contrary direction. "Even in the blackest thunderstorm there is a flash of lightning," he said to himself, resolving to journey up-stream as soon as he ached less.

His misfortunes, however, made him wary. If he purloined a sampan and paddled up the river, he would certainly meet many rebels; and with his self-confidence shaken he could not face the risk of another thrashing.

So he resolved to perform the journey to Meichow on foot. He found a secluded nook where he might rest a while; then, still sore, and beginning to feel hungry again, he set off on his long tramp.

It is not necessary to describe his journey at length. There was no beaten road; he had to find his way over fields of mustard and beans, through woods, and across streams lined with bamboos. He pa.s.sed the night, cold and hungry, perched in the lower branches of an oak, and started again as soon as it was light. When he came to a village, he procured food by exhibiting his magical skill with the cards; but he avoided the more populous places, and walked for hours together without seeing a human being. It was a very weary, tattered, woebegone object that at length stole into Meichow.

Here again he put the cards to profitable use at an eating-house. He learnt that Su Fing was absent, having gone westward with a large force to deal with the regular troops that were said to be marching from Tibet. Everybody knew that an English prisoner had been brought in the day before, and was now incarcerated in the yamen of the prefect, who had fled when Su Fing raided the town. It was a commodious mansion, standing in excellently laid-out grounds, with a large piece of ornamental water on which the prefect had been wont to paddle his paG.o.da-boat of an evening, feeding his swans. In Su Fing's absence, the place was occupied by his personal retainers.

Footsore and exceedingly depressed, Lo San dragged himself to the yamen, and stood like a humble mendicant at the gate, watching the stream of people that went in and out. If only he had had his bag of cash, he might have been able to convey a message to the prisoner within; door-keepers, and more important officials, in China will do much for money. But he had no money; even his pack of cards was useless now, and Lo San limped sorrowfully away.

Once more giving himself to meditation, his thoughts turned to "Ma.s.sa Bullows." He knew of the rift between the friends; he knew its cause; there is little concerning his master that a Chinese "boy" does not know. He liked Burroughs; the only thing in his disfavour was that he employed a wretched creature named Chin Tai. It occurred to Lo San that "Ma.s.sa Bullows" ought at least to know of "Ma.s.sa Ellington's"

whereabouts. So it happened that under cover of night the Chinaman loosed a sampan from its moorings, steered it into the river, and allowed himself to be carried down by the stream towards Chia-ling Fu and Sui-Fu beyond. There was not the same risk in going down the river as there would have been in coming up, and Lo San, paddling as soon as he was out of earshot, was soon speeding along at a rapid rate towards Sui-Fu.

CHAPTER XI

REINHARDT SHOWS HIS COLOURS

Early next morning, Burroughs, lying awake, thinking about getting up, and worrying about Errington, heard sounds of a violent altercation in the compound outside his windows. He recognized the voice of his boy Chin Tai, raised to an indignant squeal, mingled with tones less shrill indeed, but quite as angry. The disputants were raging at each other in Chinese, the words following one upon another like the magnified twittering of birds, or, as Burroughs thought with mild amus.e.m.e.nt, like the click of typewriters.

Knowing no Chinese, he was unable to follow the furious dialogue, and listened drowsily, expecting that the noise would soon subside. But presently he heard the sound of blows; the war of words had led to active hostilities. Springing out of bed, he went to the window, and saw Chin Tai wrestling with a Chinaman of most disreputable appearance--some beggar, perhaps, who had proved too importunate.

A moment afterwards Chin Tai flung his opponent to the ground, knelt upon him, and clasping his hands about the man's throat was proceeding to knock his head against the ground, when Burroughs called sharply from the window.

"Get up!" he said. "What for you makee all this bobbely?"

Chin Tai rose at once, trembling with rage, and for the moment unable to express himself. Released from his clutches, the other man staggered to his feet as soon as he had regained his breath; and Burroughs recognized him, with a start of amazement, as Lo San, Errington's boy.

"He come this side makee bobbely, sah," shouted Chin Tai. "He hab catchee plenty muck, no plopa come look-see ma.s.sa so-fashion."

"Get out of it," cried Burroughs. "Where did you come from, Lo San?

Where's Mr. Errington?"

"Ma.s.sa Ellington he Meichow side, sah. He belongey plison Su Fing. My come this side tellum ma.s.sa; Chin Tai he belongey too-muchee sa.s.sy[#]; he say no can see ma.s.sa; my come long long wailo nightey-time, velly sick inside. What time my stlong, my smash Chin Tai he ugly facee."

[#] Saucy.

"That'll do. I'll be down in a minute. Stay where you are."

Burroughs made a hasty toilet, ran down into the compound, and eagerly questioned the man, who he could see was half dead with fatigue and hunger. He shouted a peremptory order to Chin Tai to bring some food, which the boy obeyed with a very bad grace. Lo San told his story, and produced the pack of cards, now bent, torn and indescribably dirty.

His news gave Burroughs a great shock. He had half convinced himself that Errington had escaped from Chia-ling Fu at the first alarm, and probably made his way down stream with the idea of taking refuge on Reinhardt's launch, which had been seen off Pa-tang. There was just a chance that he had shown fight, and been overpowered; but the fact that the other Europeans had suffered no ill-treatment rea.s.sured Burroughs as to Errington's ultimate safety. The knowledge that he had been deliberately captured by Su Fing's orders and carried to the rebel's head-quarters was alarming. It seemed that Su Fing's personal grudge against the Englishman had prevailed over his wish to avoid any act that would call for intervention by a European Power.

Burroughs at once sent for his comprador, Sing Wen. He wished that he could have consulted Mr. Ting, but the merchant had gone down-stream to urge on preparations for an expedition to recapture Chia-ling Fu. A few hundred soldiers had come into Sui-Fu on the previous day, and a small Chinese gunboat was expected to arrive shortly; but it was generally known that two or three weeks must elapse before it was possible to bring up a force large enough to cope with the insurgents. Meanwhile what was to become of Errington? Lo San had reported the wood-seller's boast that Su Fing would "slice" his prisoner; and though it was incredible to Burroughs that the rebel chief should dare to commit so monstrous a crime, he felt very uneasy: there were many indignities short of actual torture or death that his old friend might suffer by Chinese ingenuity. It was important, if anything was to be done for Errington, that it should be done at once.

Having put all this to his comprador, Burroughs asked for his advice.

Sing Wen was a solid, hard-headed man of forty, who had many connections of a business kind up the river. But he had to confess that in this emergency he was at a loss. Burroughs suggested the bribing of the guards at Su Fing's yamen before Su Fing himself returned; but Sing Wen, while admitting that money would work wonders sometimes, pointed out that the present case was exceptional. The rebel chief's underlings would scarcely be persuaded to connive at the prisoner's escape, knowing that on Su Fing's return they would certainly be put to the torture.

Sing Wen quoted the maxim of the famous bandit Ah Lum

"Virtue is best: hold Knavery in dread; A Thief gains nothing if he lose his Head."

Still, it would be something to open up communications with the insurgents; and Sing Wen in the last resort mentioned his brother's brother-in-law, the keeper of the opium den at Pa-tang, who had an extensive acquaintance among Chinamen of doubtful reputation, and could learn, better than any other man he knew, what were the possibilities of bringing influence to bear at Meichow.

Pa-tang was not quite half-way between Sui-Fu and Chia-ling Fu. It was likely to escape annoyance by the rebels because it contained the only well-equipped opium establishment in the district, and would be visited indifferently by insurgents and Government troops as neutral ground.

Burroughs decided to run up there with the comprador in his hydroplane.

Sing Wen pointed out that caution would be necessary, because the river between Pa-tang and Chia-ling Fu would certainly be well patrolled by the rebels, and there was some risk of being snapped up if the vessel were discovered out of bounds, so to speak. Burroughs, however, made light of this. His machine was in perfect order, and he was confident of being able to escape danger from anything less than a shot from a gunboat.

They started before noon, and ran into the little harbour of Pa-tang without attracting much attention. Burroughs remained on the boat while Sing Wen visited his brother's brother-in-law. The comprador returned in the course of an hour, and reported that, as he had expected, his brother's brother-in-law knew one of Su Fing's most trusted retainers.

He was ready to go up river himself and see what could be done to arrange the escape of the prisoner.

Sing Wen, however, looked so downcast that Burroughs asked him what was the inside matter.

"My no likee pidgin so-fashion," replied the man. "My velly 'spectable fella, catchee bad namee supposey fellas see my walkee inside smokee houso."

Burroughs agreed, but pointed out that an Englishman's life was at least as valuable as a Chinaman's good name. Since, however, he wished to see the brother's brother-in-law himself, it was arranged that the three should meet at a little inn at the head of a creek below the town, into which the hydroplane could be run.

Thither the comprador brought his relative, a man of perfectly respectable appearance. Burroughs told him to offer five hundred dollars down to his friend at Pa-tang, and promise a further two thousand, to be paid in Shanghai, if the prisoner was permitted to escape. For his work as honest broker the opium-house keeper should receive five hundred dollars. This arrangement having been made, Burroughs returned to Sui-Fu, promising to run up to the inn from time to time to meet the man on his return, the date of which would depend on circ.u.mstances.

Burroughs found it difficult to control his impatience. During the next three days he ran to Pa-tang and back several times--more often than his comprador thought wise. On the afternoon of the fourth day the negotiator returned, only to report failure. The man he had hoped to bribe was, if not too faithful, at least too fearful to undertake the job: Su Fing had shown himself swift and terrible in his punishments.

Endeavours to open up negotiations in other directions had almost ended in discovery, and the emissary had received from his friend a hint that he was in imminent danger. He flatly refused to venture a second time within the lion's jaws.

While they were speaking at the door of the inn, they heard the sound of a launch coming down the river. The inn stood on a slight eminence, from which the river could be seen for some distance in each direction.

Sing Wen closely scanned the approaching vessel, and in a few moments recognized it as Reinhardt's launch. It drew to the side and entered the harbour. A European was seen to land.

"That ma.s.sa Leinhadt," said the brother's brother-in-law. "My savvy he come my shop. He velly good customer. My belongey go chop-chop, no can keep he waitin'. He no likee pipe got leady 'nother fella. Velly solly, sah; no good this time."

He went away, and Burroughs was left to digest the loss of five hundred dollars, and to face the problem over again. It seemed quite hopeless.

If two thousand dollars would not tempt the rebel, nothing would. To most Chinamen up-country, such a sum represented affluence beyond their wildest dreams. But Burroughs was one of those men who never let go.

At school he had been a plodder; all his successes had been won by dogged perseverance; and he returned to Sui-Fu determined to find some means or other of securing the safety of his friend.

An idea occurred to him later in the day. Reinhardt had been coming down the river, from the direction of Chia-ling Fu. That fact suggested that he was at any rate on good terms with the rebels; indeed, it reawakened Burroughs' suspicion that, behind the scenes, the German was taking some part in the insurrection. He wondered whether Reinhardt knew of Errington's capture and imprisonment, and decided that it was impossible, for the German, if he had any influence with the rebels, would certainly have taken immediate steps to liberate a servant of his own firm, and one who had been so closely a.s.sociated with himself.