The Flying Boat Part 5

MR. TING SPEAKS OUT

During the whole of the winter there had been much speculation among the European residents in the treaty ports as to the cause of the unrest disturbing many different parts of the country. Disorder of one kind or another is always smouldering in China. Sometimes it is due to the oppression of the officials, sometimes to hatred of the foreigners, often to obscure causes which not even the older white residents in the country can understand.

For some time past there had been risings in various districts which puzzled even the acutest and most experienced. A rumour had gradually arisen that they were due partly to the secret societies which supported predatory bands in many parts of the empire, partly to direct incitement from without. Germany had always expected far greater things from her possession of Kiauchou than had actually sprung from it. Her appet.i.te for colonial extension had grown by what it fed on, and been whetted especially by her successful deals with France over Morocco. Her colonial party hungered after a big slice of the Middle Kingdom, but while China was at peace with herself and the rest of the world, there was little that Germany could do, without risking armed opposition on the part of other interested Powers.

From time immemorial it has been the custom of strong states desiring territorial aggrandis.e.m.e.nt to make an opportunity of fishing in troubled waters. Many people in China now said that German agents were at work in more than one part of the empire, stirring up the forces of disruption which were always latent in the country. Whether rightly or wrongly, Burroughs had begun to suspect, from various small matters that fell under his observation, that Reinhardt was such an agent. His comprador reported that the German had been seen in communication with the river pirate who had been captured in the attack on Mr. Ting. He said that it was whispered in native circles that German money had bribed the officials to connive at the bandit's escape. At first Burroughs merely smiled at these reports, but they were so persistent that, taken in connection with Reinhardt's frequent unexplained absences, they at last made an impression upon him. Perhaps there was something in them after all.

From the newspapers which he received regularly from Shanghai he learnt that the German fleet in Chinese waters was to be strengthened by the addition of several river gunboats, for the protection of German subjects who might be threatened by the growing disorder. Inasmuch as the disturbances were not as yet serious--no more alarming than the outbreaks that occur about every five years in one part or another--Burroughs shrewdly suspected that in this case the wish was father to the thought. It was becoming a favourite move of German diplomacy to send a gunboat to some centre of disorder, which could only be removed by some one paying compensation. When, therefore, the smouldering disaffection broke into an active rising about a hundred and fifty miles up the river from Sui-Fu, a German gunboat was moved up as far as she could proceed with safety, and several launches were sent still farther.

The total German population for whose lives the German Government professed to have such a tender regard consisted of Reinhardt and two or three compatriots at Sui-Fu, together with about an equal number at stations on other parts of the river. No similar move had been considered necessary by any of the other Powers. The Chinese Government protested, explaining that the disorders were slight, and would be at once suppressed. But the Germans refused to go back, and China was not certain enough of the unanimity of the other powers to risk a war with Germany unaided.

The Chinese officials saw that it was of the greatest importance to keep the peace along the river, so that the Germans should have absolutely no excuse for intervening.

When the movement of the German vessels took place, Reinhardt was absent from Sui-Fu. Errington had been established for some weeks at Chia-ling Fu. On Reinhardt's reappearance at his station it was rumoured among the Chinese that he had actually been in the camp of the revolutionaries, whose leader was none other than the river pirate of Mr. Ting's adventure. There was a very persistent report that the insurgents were well supplied with money, a circ.u.mstance sufficiently remarkable in itself to lend support to the suspicion that the Germans were secretly backing the insurrection.

Errington meanwhile, in his new position at Chia-ling Fu, had gone from bad to worse. The city itself was more attractive than Sui-Fu; it was situated at the junction of the Min with two other rivers, amidst very fertile and picturesque country. Errington might have found much to interest him if he had cared to make friends with the missionaries, or with the Englishmen in the town. But his connection with a German firm brought him necessarily into closer contact with the little German colony, among whom there was a careless, card-playing section. Cards were practically the only recreation; and Errington, deprived of any steadying influence, fell more and more under the fascination of gambling. Absence for a time from Reinhardt dulled his suspicions of that gentleman's honesty, and when the German paid occasional visits to Chia-ling Fu he found Errington as ready as ever to a.s.sociate with him.

At the card-parties luck was steadily against the Englishman, and in course of time he was heavily in debt to Reinhardt and others. He went to the money-lenders again; but they declined to give him any further a.s.sistance, and began to press him in regard to the amounts he already owed them.

Reinhardt also happened to be pressed for money. An American globe-trotter of great means came to Sui-Fu, and was persuaded by Reinhardt to join his card-parties. He proved more than a match for the German, who, piqued at his losses, played higher and higher, until at the end of a fortnight he was many hundred dollars to the bad.

One day he ran up to Chia-ling Fu in his launch, and called on Errington. After a little general conversation, he said casually--

"By ze way, zose little sums you owe me--will it be convenient to pay up?"

"I'm rather stoney just now," replied Errington, with an uneasy laugh.

"Can you give me a little time?"

"Sorry, my boy, I would if I could; but I also am stoney. I must have ze money. But zere is a way for you. Why not go to Mr. Ting? I do not say it is true, but zere are many who believe zat Ting has still moneys of your late fazer, my old friend. A compatriot of mine, a man I know, once heard your fazer say in ze Shanghai Club zat whatever happened to him, ze boy--zat is you, naturally--would be provided for. Ting, said he, would see well to zat."

"My guardian in England told me I had next to nothing," said Errington, much surprised; "and my education was so expensive that by the time I came of age there'd be precious little left."

"I know nozink about zat. I know only what my friend told me. How stands ze matter? You owe me five hundred dollars; I cannot afford in zese times to wait for ze money; zerefore I say, apply to Mr. Ting."

Errington thought over the suggestion. The suspicions already planted by Reinhardt had not taken very deep root, but this fresh hint that Mr.

Ting might be actually turning to his own use money that did not belong to him made Errington resolve to broach the matter at the first opportunity.

Mr. Ting at intervals travelled up the river on business. It happened that he came to Chia-ling Fu a few days after Reinhardt had made his suggestion. He called on Errington, as he had often done before, gave him news of friends in Shanghai, and showed no sign of any change of feeling towards his old employer's son.

Errington was restless and ill at ease all through the interview. His natural pride revolted against the course he was forcing himself to take. At last, just as Mr. Ting was leaving, he said hesitatingly and with a shamefaced air--

"Could you--would you mind lending me a thousand dollars?"

The Chinaman showed no surprise.

"You find your pay not enough?" he said. "It was incleased, was it not?"

"Yes, but----"

"And you are a young man," Mr. Ting went on. "You have no wife nor pickins. I think with your pay, and your commission--velly good, if I hear tlue--you can live velly well. Plaps you tell me what you want so much money for."

Errington began to walk up and down the room. He was struggling with himself: should he make a clean breast of it? Shame, an ill conscience, and the suggestions of Reinhardt combined to tie his tongue.

"Betting?" said Mr. Ting quietly. He put on his spectacles, a curious trick of his at serious moments.

"No, I don't bet."

"Card-playing?"

"There's no harm in an occasional rubber, is there?" said Errington, his temper rising.

"Gambling?" went on the remorseless Chinaman.

And then the storm burst.

"What right have you to question me?" demanded the boy furiously. "You are not my guardian. You profess to be a friend of mine, and when I ask you for a slight favour you preach at me. You're rolling in money, and won't lift a finger to help a fellow. I don't want your money, though if what people say is true, the amount I asked you for is a precious small portion of what I might claim from you as a right, and no favour."

"Hai! What fo' you talkee so fashion? What foolo pidgin you talkee this time?" cried Mr. Ting. In his indignation at what was in truth a charge of bad faith the Chinaman lapsed for a moment into the pidgin English of his childhood. Then, recovering his composure, he said with quiet dignity: "You are the son of a gentleman who was my master and my flend, and I cannot say to you what I would say to any other man who insulted me so. I do not gludge the sum that you wish to bollow, but I am solly that you want money for leasons that you will not tell, and which I must think are no cledit to you. But I tell you now, I will lend you enough money to pay all you owe, if you will give me a plomise, the word of a gentleman, that you will make no more debts in the same fashion."

Errington looked at him for a moment; then, muttering "Pledge my freedom to a Chinaman!" he flung out of the room in a rage.

CHAPTER VII

A DISCOVERY IN THE SWAMP

The situation of the young fellow was now pitiable in the extreme. He did not know where to turn. There were six other white men in the place, of whom only two were English; and as he canva.s.sed them one by one in his mind, he recognized that it was hopeless to apply to any of them. Remorse, bitter self-reproach for his folly, mingled with the harrowing fear of ruin and exposure. He thought of the pleasant months he had spent in Mr. Burroughs' house; the kindness all had shown him; the confidence they had put in him; and the thought of losing the good opinion of his friends was agony. He felt that he had kicked away the supports that might have been his. A word to the Mole would, he knew, bring his old friend to his help; but there was that miserable difference between them. A simple promise to Mr. Ting would save him; but pride held him back, and the suspicions that were poisoning his mind. Feeling utterly lost, he went to his room, and buried his aching head on the pillow.

Reinhardt came to him next day.

"Well, did Ting sh.e.l.l out?" he said.

"No," replied Errington. "Give me a week, Reinhardt; I'll pay you in a week, or----"

"Do nozink foolish, my boy. Zat's all right; I will wait a week; in a week anyzink may happen."

On Errington's part it was a mere staving-off of the evil day--a clutching at a straw; the last desperate hope of the gambler that time was on his side.

But how to kill time? He could not attend to his business; there was little else to be done except play cards, and besides having no money, he hated cards now with a savage hatred. Hearing, however, from one of the Englishmen in the place that there was good duck-shooting some few miles up the river, he resolved to go for a day's sport. The Viceroy's request that the Europeans would not venture beyond their own settlement was forgotten, in spite of the fact that it had lately been repeated with some urgency. The country was disturbed, and the swamps haunted by the wild fowl were in the midst of the district affected. They surrounded a number of small villages which were known to be the nests of river pirates, and hot-beds of the insurrectionary movement. To the ordinary traveller the villages were almost unapproachable, being situated on dry tracts encompa.s.sed by the reedy marshes that extended for some miles inland from the banks of the river.

One morning Errington started in a native sampan with his Chinese servant. On approaching the spot of which he had been told, he noticed that Lo San looked uneasily at some large Chinese characters painted in white on a rock at the river-side.

"Well, what is it?" he asked.

"Ho tao pu ching," replied the man. "Way no flee."