Under the Chinese Dragon Part 23

He reached up a hand, gripped the edge of the roof, and hoisted himself cautiously upon it. Then he lay down flat, and rolled himself slowly upward. For there was something to alarm him. A man was standing out in the moon-lit road, and was gesticulating violently.

'Seen me I'm afraid,' thought David. 'Wants to make sure before he kicks up a ruction; but they don't have me without a little trouble. Out here on this roof I ought to be able to put up a fight that'll make them careful. Bother that chap! He must have been hiding in the deep shadow over yonder, and have watched me as I clambered out of the window.'

'Misser Davie, Misser Davie.'

The words came to him as if in a nightmare. David could not believe that he had actually heard them. He put his fingers to his ears and rubbed them vigorously. But he had no sooner removed them than the words came again, 'Misser Davie, Misser Davie.'

'Awfully queer,' he thought, mopping his forehead with the tail end of a voluminous sleeve, 'I could have sworn that that----'

'Misser Davie, am dat youself, Misser Davie?'

It was undoubtedly some one calling him, and that some one was the man down below in the street. The figure gesticulated even more violently, while the voice was raised to a higher pitch.

'Am dat youself, Misser Davie? Dis Jong, John Jong, de China boy, what's you sarvint.'

It set David's heart beating like a sledge hammer. He slid at once to the very edge of the roof and stared over.

'Jong,' he called. 'That you? What's all this business about?'

'Not know't all, Misser. Me asleep, den hear a noise, and hide under de _kang_. Men come into de place and look for me. Den hear dem going away carryin' baskets.'

'Carrying me, Jong. I was a prisoner till a moment ago. I've just crept out of the cell in which they placed me.'

'Where Misser d.i.c.k, den?' asked Jong, promptly.

'd.i.c.k? Isn't he with you?'

David asked the question anxiously, for the safety of his friend had given him cause for great anxiety, even in spite of his own sad condition. He had not seen that second basket borne along behind him, and had no idea that his chum d.i.c.k was also a prisoner. 'Where is he?'

he demanded eagerly.

'Not know; but Jong follow de fellers, and see dem carry you both in dere in de baskets. Den him wait here to see what happening. Not know what to do, Misser Davie. If me go back to de palace, den Tsu-Hi take me.'

David whistled in a low key. This was indeed a facer, though, to tell the truth, the presence of Jong in the street below was a wonderful fillip to both courage and spirits. But d.i.c.k; what was he to do about his friend?

'Can't leave him all alone, that's certain,' he told himself without the least hesitation. 'Supposing I go on a tour of inspection, for it seems to me that there is no one watching or listening. Look here, Jong,' he called out gently, 'stay where you are and watch. I'm going to find Mr.

d.i.c.k, if it's possible.'

Promptly he crept away over the roof, his feet making not so much as a sound as he went, for his native shoes were as soft as bedroom slippers.

Then he came to a sudden halt. David's old characteristic a.s.serted itself. His desire to be practical, to have a plan always where such was possible, came to the fore, and he lay flat again cogitating, trying to decide how to proceed.

'No use ranging round and round aimlessly,' he told himself. 'Where's d.i.c.k most likely to be kept a prisoner? That's the question. Where's he been put? If only I can find the cell I'll manage somehow to get at him.'

A couple of minutes later he was sidling slowly again to the very edge of the roof, for higher up there was no opening. The slight slope of the big tiles led to a wall some five feet in height, rising abruptly at the highest edge of the roof, and capped itself by a second roof of huge, artistic tiles, which overhung their support far more than was the case down below. This second part went steeply upward to the summit, where the ridge was capped with a number of ludicrous and marvellously wrought dragons. It was a dead end as it were, not only to the building in that part, but also to David's hopes in that direction. Obviously there was nothing to be done there, and equally obviously the wall below him, through which he had contrived to squeeze by way of the window offered something far more likely. For was it not in the bounds of possibility that the range of windows was continued, and, if so, why should d.i.c.k not be held a prisoner in a cell into which one of the openings gave light and air?

'Hist! Jong! are you still there?'

The figure of the Chinaman steeped out into the white road, silhouetted blackly against it, and fore-shortened from the aspect from which our hero observed him.

'Misser Davie, here John Jong.'

'I may want a rope; got one?'

'Find him easy; I go now to look. Be back and hide along here till you want me.'

The dark figure slid again into the dense shadow in the far edge of the road, and though David stared and stared into it, not a movement could he discern, not a sound did he catch. Not a sound? Then what was that?

Surely voices? Yes, without shadow of doubt. He kneeled up to listen, and then, as if he had forgotten all thought of the windows, one of which, if they did indeed exist, might give access to d.i.c.k, he went crawling off up the slope to the erection above it. And arrived there he hastened along the wall till he came to the edge, when he slipped round the corner. About ten feet away there was a large gap in this other side of the building, and a soft light was streaming from it. Voices were also issuing into the night air. David crawled forward without a moment's hesitation, halted when close to the gap, which was, as a matter of fact, another large window, and craned his neck round the edge. Down below him, twenty feet perhaps, there were a number of Chinese, and amongst them the rascally Tartar under-officer who had admitted them to the city. The men were stretched lazily on a long _kang_, which did service as bed for all of them, and were discussing matters idly. David listened for a while, then, creeping past the opening, hastened to a second of equal size, and from which also a ray of light issued. A glance into the place caused him suddenly to duck his head and retreat a little.

'Chang, Chang, of all people, eating his supper, and writing as he does so. If only I dared.'

If only he had none others to think of, save himself, David could have shot the man where he sat, though such an act would have gone hard against his conscience and his ideas of what was proper and fair play.

But there was d.i.c.k to be considered, and d.i.c.k was somewhere in the building.

'Mustn't wait,' he told himself, 'no good to be obtained by staring down at that fellow. Chang was the name he gave himself. I shall remember, and one of these days I shall hope to meet him under different circ.u.mstances. Now for those other windows.'

He slipped back to his old position, crawled to the edge of the roof on to which he had at first climbed, and hung his head over it. Yes, there was a long row of windows, all in darkness, any of which might give access to the cell in which his comrade was a prisoner.

'Can't remember which I came from myself,' he groaned. 'But I'll try the lot of them. First thing is to get down, then I'll make my way from one to the other.'

To an active lad the task was nothing out of the ordinary, and in a little while David was seated on the edge of one at the far corner of the building. He peered at once into the interior, and, with the aid of the moon's rays, was able to make out the opposite wall and the actual dimensions of the place. It appeared to be empty, but the dark shadow directly beneath him might contain someone. He called d.i.c.k's name gently, repeating it till he was sure that he could not be there.

'Even if he were asleep he'd hear that,' he told himself. 'But even d.i.c.k, the happy-go-lucky d.i.c.k, wouldn't be asleep now. This business would be far too upsetting for any man. I'll get along to the next. Ah!

not there. That's the crib from which I so lately scrambled.'

There was no doubt on the last question, for the moonbeams played on the platter of food and the jar of water which had been brought to him, and he realised that this was indeed the cell he had so lately vacated, for the two objects were in precisely the same position in which he had seen them placed. More than that, the edge of the huge basket which had contained his own perspiring and wriggling body was peeping out of the shadow. At once he went crawling on again, peeping into four other cells, only to find each one tenantless. Then a gentle hail from below attracted his attention.

'Ma.s.ser Davie, I'se got a rope; what den?'

Jong's strange figure stood outlined on the white road again, his face as clearly seen as in broad daylight, so powerfully did the moon play upon it.

'I found de rope along de road here, and borrowed him for a little. You found de oder one? You found Ma.s.ser d.i.c.k?'

There was a note of anxiety in the faithful celestial's voice, and a responding note in that of David's. For his lack of success was making him feel desperate. Supposing he could not find his chum? Could he leave the place and desert him entirely? Never.

'I'm game to do something desperate,' he breathed. 'If I don't find him in this place I'll slip along to the palace where we were given quarters, and tackle Tsu-Hi. The rascal must have been an accomplice in this attack, and with him under my pistol I could do a great deal, a very great deal I imagine.'

He sat still for a little while, running the plan over in his head. And desperate as it undoubtedly was, he decided then and there that if he failed in his quest for d.i.c.k he would carry the idea out. It should be neck or nothing. It should be Tsu-Hi's life or d.i.c.k's. Then another inspiration floated across his mind.

'Chang, why not?' he asked himself. 'If he has the power to manage a thing like this, he will have further power. With a pistol to his head he would undo what he has already managed to bring about. But it wouldn't be quite as good as the deputy-governor. What's that, Jong?'

'You sit still dere while I throw up de rope. Now, catch him.'

A coil left the Chinaman's hand, and thrown with dexterity whizzed just in front of David. He caught it with ease, and at once slipped it about his shoulders.

'Remain there,' he said. 'I'm going on looking for Mr. d.i.c.k.'

'Den you take heap of care. Dere's a light a little farder along de wall.'

Jong's arms slid out and his finger pointed.