The Red Rat's Daughter

"Many thanks," remarked the other; and so the matter dropped for the time being.

Port Said and the work of coaling being things of the past, they proceeded through the Suez Canal and down the Red Sea; coaled once more at Aden, and later on at Colombo. By the time they reached Singapore, Browne's impatience could scarcely be controlled. With every day an increased nervousness came over him. At last they were only a few hours' steam from Hong-kong. It was there that Browne was to interview the famous Johann Schmidt, of whom Herr Sauber had spoken to him in Paris. What the result of that interview would be he could only conjecture. He wanted to get it over in order that he might have his plans cut and dried by the time they reached Japan, where Katharine and Madame Bernstein must now be. If all went well, he would soon join them there.

At ten o'clock on a lovely morning they entered the Ly-ee-moon Pass, steamed past Green Island, and at length they came in sight of the crowded harbour of Victoria. Once at anchor, the steam-launch was slung overboard and brought alongside, Browne and his friends took their places in her, and she forthwith made her way to the shore. None of the men had seen the wonderful city, they were now visiting, before, so that all its marvels, its wealth, and its extraordinary mixture of races were new to them. Though they had encountered him in his American hybrid condition, it was the first time they had been brought into actual contact with their marvellous Yellow Brother, who in Hong-kong may be seen in all the glory of his dirt and sumptuousness. Reaching the Praya, they disembarked, and ascended the steps. Accosting an English inspector of police whom they met, they inquired in what direction they should proceed in order to reach the Club. He pointed out the way, and they accordingly set off in search of it. Turning into the Queen's Road, they made their way along it until they reached the place in question. Browne had a letter of introduction to one of the members, given to him in London, and he was anxious to present it to him in order to learn something, if possible, of Johann Schmidt before going in search of him. Leaving his two friends outside, he entered the Club and inquired for the gentleman in question. The servant who received him informed him that the member was not at the time in the building.

"Can you tell me his address?" said Browne. "It's just possible I may find him at his office."

The man furnished him with what he wanted, and showed him how he could reach it. Rejoining his companions, Browne proceeded down the street, passed the Law Courts, and went in the direction of the Barracks. At last he reached the block of buildings of which he was in search. The name of the man he wanted was to be seen on a brass plate upon the door. He entered, and accosting a white-clad Englishman in an enormous solar topee, whom he found there, inquired if he could tell whether his friend was at home.

"I believe he is," the man replied. "At any rate, if you will wait a moment I'll soon find out." Leaving them, he departed down the passage, to return presently with the information that the person they wanted to see was in his office.

Foote and Maas remained in the street, while Browne entered a cool and airy room at the farther end of the passage. Here, seated at an office-table, was another white-clad Englishman. He had a cigar in his mouth, and possessed a handsome face and a close-cropped beard.

"Mr. – ?" said Browne, after he had thanked his conductor for his courtesy.

"That is my name," the gentleman replied. "What can I have the pleasure of doing for you?"

"I have a letter of introduction to you," said Browne, producing the document in question from his pocket, and handing it across the table. "I believe we are common friends of George Pellister?"

"George Pellister!" cried the man. "I should rather think so; when I was home three years ago he was awfully kind to me. So you are a friend of his? Pray forgive my not having come out to greet you. Come and sit down. How long have you been in the island?"

"Only an hour and a half," Browne replied.

"An hour and a half!" the other repeated. "I had no idea there was an English mail-boat in. The P. & O. only left yesterday."

"I didn't come in a mail-boat," said Browne. "I've got my own tub. We left London on the 7th of last month."

The man behind the table opened his eyes in surprise. Gentlemen who travelled as far as Hong-kong in their own steam-yachts, were few and far between, and had to be treated with proper respect. He accordingly found an opportunity of opening the letter of introduction. Had Browne been watching his face, he would have seen the expression of astonishment that spread over it, as he realized that his visitor was no less a person than the fabulously wealthy John Grantham Browne, of whose doings in the social and sporting world he had so often read.

"I am very glad indeed that you have called on me," he said, after he had somewhat recovered from his astonishment. "While you are here you must let me do the honours of Hong-kong, such as they are. Of course I can put you up at the Club, if that's any use to you, and show you all there is to be seen, though I fear it will bore you fearfully after London. How long are you staying?"

"Well," answered Browne, "I'm afraid I shall not be able to remain very long on the outward voyage. I should not have called here at all, but that I had some rather important business to transact. I'm on my way to Japan."

"Indeed!" exclaimed the other. "Well, I shall be only too happy if you will let me help you in any way I can."

"It's not a very big matter," replied Browne. "All I want to know is the address of a certain person living in Hong-kong whose name is Schmidt – Johann Schmidt."

"Johann Schmidt?" asked the other. "I am not quite certain that I know this particular one; there are so many of that name here, and I dare say a large proportion of them are Johanns. However, I will send some one to find out; and if you will take tiffin with me at the Club, my clerks shall make inquiries while we are doing so."

Browne thereupon explained that he had two friends travelling with him, with the result that the other replied that he would only be too happy if they would join the party. They accordingly adjourned, and, picking up Maas and Foote in the street, proceeded to the Club. Tiffin was almost at an end, when a servant entered and placed a card beside their host's plate. He glanced at it, and, turning to Browne, he pushed it towards him.

"If I'm not mistaken, that is the man you want," he remarked. "I think it only fair to tell you that I know the fellow, and he is rather an extraordinary character. Between ourselves, he does not bear any too good a reputation."

"Oh, that doesn't matter to me in the least," responded Browne. "My business with him is purely of a commercial nature."

After that no more was said on the subject, and, when they rose from the table, Browne proposed that he should go in search of the man in question. "I am anxious, if possible, to leave Hong-kong at daybreak to-morrow morning," he said; and then added, by way of explanation, "I am due in Japan, and have no time to spare."

"I am sorry to hear that," returned the other. "I had hoped you would have stayed longer. However, while you are away, your friends had better remain with me. I will do my best to amuse them."

Browne thereupon rose to take leave. His host accompanied him to the street, and, having put him in a rickshá, told the coolie where he was to take him.

"I am exceedingly obliged to you for your kindness," said Browne, as he shook hands. "Will you not let me return it by asking you to dine with us on board my boat to-night? She is the Lotus Blossom. I don't suppose you will have much difficulty in finding her."

"I shall be delighted," replied the other. "At what time do you dine?"

"At half-past seven," answered Browne.

"Au revoir, then, until half-past seven."

They waved hands to each other, and Browne laid himself back in the rickshá, mumbling as he did so, "Now for our friend Johann Schmidt."

CHAPTER XXI

Leaving the Club, the rickshá coolie proceeded in the opposite direction to that which Browne had followed, when in search of the gentleman to whom he had presented the letter of introduction. At first, and while he remained in the Queen's Road, there was but little difference to be observed; the thoroughfare was a fine one, broad and commodious. After one or two turnings, however, matters changed somewhat, and he found himself in a labyrinth of narrow, tortuous streets, the shops on either side of which were small and mean, the names over the doors being for the most part in the Celestial characters. The confusion that existed in the streets was indescribable. Here the Mongolian was to be seen in all his glory. But, in addition to the Chinamen, almost every nationality known to the Asiatic world was represented; while through it all, towering head and shoulders above the crowd, stalked the stately Sikhs on patrol duty. At last, after a drive that had occupied perhaps a quarter of an hour, the coolie drew up, before what was probably the largest shop Browne had yet seen in the neighbourhood. It was built in the Chinese fashion, and, in order that West and East may meet on an equal footing, had two names over the door, one in Chinese writing, the other plainly printed in English characters: "Johann Schmidt." Browne alighted, and, having told his coolie to wait, entered the shop. He was greeted on the threshold by a stout Chinaman, who was plainly in charge.

"What for you piecee look see?" inquired the latter.

Browne, not being adept at pidgin-English, replied to the effect that he desired to see and speak with Herr Schmidt. Whether the man comprehended or not he could not tell; at any rate he left him alone in the shop, while he disappeared behind a curtain at the farther end. When he returned, a few seconds later, he was accompanied by a portly individual, whose nationality the veriest tyro could not mistake. As if to make it doubly sure, he carried in his hand an enormous pipe fashioned after the pattern of the Fatherland. His face was large and almost spherical; his hair was close-cropped, as was his beard; he was attired in white trousers, a flannel shirt, which would have been none the worse for a wash, and a black alpaca coat. The Teutonic stolidity was certainly well developed in him. On seeing Browne he stopped and sucked contentedly at his pipe, but said nothing. The younger man was the first to speak.

"You are Herr Schmidt, I believe?" said Browne, in English. The other nodded his head, but still did not venture upon speech. "I bring a letter of introduction to you," said Browne, dropping his voice a little, as though he were afraid of being overheard. "It is from a certain Herr Otto Sauber, whom I met in Paris about two months ago. He told me that you would do all you could for me in a certain matter."

"Herr Sauber?" inquired the German. "I cannot dink that I am mit him acquainted."

Browne's disappointment was plainly discernible on his face. He had fully expected that, immediately he presented the letter Sauber had given him, this mysterious Johann Schmidt would understand and arrange everything. This, however, did not appear to be the case. The man before him sucked stolidly at his pipe, and watched him with eyes that had no expression in them. The position was embarrassing, to say the least of it. Was it possible that his mission was going to prove futile after all, and that, for the good he was to get out of it, he might just as well not have wasted his time by calling at Hong-kong at all? For upwards of thirty most uncomfortable seconds the two men stood watching each other. Then Browne spoke.

"You are quite sure, I suppose," he asked, "that you do not know the gentleman in question? I certainly understood from him that you had been acquainted with each other for many years."

The German shook his head. Then he said slowly, "Perhaps, mein frien, if you would mit me come, I will talk mit you ubon the madder. So many men do say dot they know Johann Schmidt. But Johann do not know dem. If you to mine office would come, we will talk mit each other dere."

Browne accordingly followed him behind the curtain to which I have alluded. There he found, to his surprise, a most comfortable and, I might almost add, luxurious apartment. The walls were hung with pictures of considerable merit, interspersed with innumerable curios, collected from almost every country in the Farther East. In any other place the room might have ranked as a fairly noteworthy apartment; but here, surrounded by so much that was sordid – nay, almost barbaric – it was little short of unique. Pointing to a long bamboo chair which fitted a corner beneath an enormous Cantonese dragon, used for burning pastilles, the German bade Browne seat himself. Before the latter did so, however, he handed the German the letter with which Herr Sauber had furnished him. The other took it, cut the flap of the envelope with a jade paper-knife, and, drawing forth the contents, placed an enormous pair of spectacles upon his nose, and read them thoroughly. Upwards of five minutes had elapsed between the time Browne had given him the letter until he spoke again. These long delays were having a bad effect upon the young man's temper; they strained his nerves to breaking-pitch. He felt that this phlegmatic individual would not hurry himself, even if another's existence depended upon it. To all intents and purposes he had united in his person the apathy of the Asiatic with the stolidity of the Teuton.

"Now dat I look ubon it, I do remember Herr Sauber," the other replied. "It was once dat we very good friends were, but it is many years dat I heard of him." The old fellow wagged his head solemnly until his glasses shook upon his nose. The recollection of the incident, whatever it was, seemed to afford him considerable satisfaction, though why it should have done so was by no means apparent to Browne.

"But with regard to what he says in the letter?" the young man at last exclaimed in desperation. "Will you be able to help me, do you think?"

"Ah! I know noddings about dat," answered Schmidt. "I do not understand what dis business is. If it is Chinese silk, or curios, or gondiments of any kind, den I know what you want. Dere is no one on dis island can subbly you so goot as Johann Schmidt."

Browne did not know what to say. For his own sake he knew that it would not be safe to broach such a delicate subject to a man, like the one seated before him, whose only idea in life seemed to be to cross one fat leg over the other and to fill and smoke his pipe until the room was one large tobacco-cloud, unless he was quite certain of that person's identity with the individual, to whom he had been directed to apply.

"To put the matter in a nutshell," said Browne, lowering his voice a little in order that it should not carry farther than the man seated before him, "I understood from Herr Sauber that if any one happened to have a friend, who had the misfortune to be compelled to stay rather longer in a certain place, than was quite conducive to his health or peace of mind, by applying to you an arrangement might possibly be made, whereby his release might be effected."

Herr Schmidt for the first time took the pipe out of his mouth and looked at him. "Bardon, mein frien, but I do not understand what is meant by dat speech," he replied. "If de place, where dat frien of yours is living, is not to his health suited, why does not he elsewhere go?"

Though Browne felt morally certain that the man understood what he meant, he did not feel justified in speaking more plainly at the moment. He had to feel his way before he definitely committed himself. However, a little reflection was sufficient to show him, that it would be impossible to make any progress at all unless he spoke out, and that even in the event of his doing so, he would not be placing himself in any way in the other's power. He accordingly resolved upon a line of action.

"The truth of the matter is, Herr Schmidt," he began, leaning a little forward, and speaking with all the emphasis of which he was master, "I happen to have a friend who is at the present time confined on a certain island. He is in delicate health, and his friends are anxious to get him away. Now, I have been informed that, if suitable terms can be arranged, it would be possible for you to effect this escape. Is this so?"

"Mine goot frien," returned the German, "let me tell you dat you speak too plain. The words dat you talk mit me would make trouble mit my friens de police. Besides, dere is no esgaping from der jail ubon dis island."

"I did not say anything about the jail upon this island," retorted Browne; "the place I mean is a very long way from here."

"Well then, Noumea, perhaps?"

"No, not Noumea," answered Browne. "If I am to enter into more explanations, I might say that my friend is a Russian, and that he is also a political prisoner." He stopped and watched Herr Schmidt's face anxiously. The latter was sitting bolt upright in his chair, with a fat hand resting on either knee; his spectacles were pushed on to the top of his head, and his long pipe was still in his mouth. Not a sign escaped him to show that he understood.

"I dink dat mein old comrade, Herr Sauber, must have been drunken mit too much schnapps when he talk mit you. What should Johann Schmidt have to do mit Russian bolitical brisoners? His piziness is mit de curios of China, mit silk, rice, ginger, but not mit de tings you do speak to him about."

"Then I am to understand that you can do nothing to help me?" said Browne, rising from his chair as if to take leave.

"For mineself it is not possible," returned the other, with great deliberation. "But since you are a frien of mein old comrade Sauber, den I tink over tings and gause inquiries to be made. Dis a very strange work is, and dere are many men in it. I do not tell you dat it gannot be done, but it will be difficult. Perhaps dere may be a man to be found who will gommunicate mit your friend."

The meaning of this speech was perfectly clear to him. In plain English, it, of course, meant that, while Herr Schmidt was not going to commit himself, he would find some one else who would.

"I should be under a life-long obligation if you would do so," answered Browne. "And what is more, I may as well say now I am not afraid to pay handsomely for the service rendered."

This time there was a twinkle to be seen in the German's eye. "I know noddings at all about what you speak; you will remember dot," continued he. "But I will do de best I can. If you write me now on a paper de name of your frien, and de place where he is – what shall we say? – now staying, I will let you know what de price would be, and when der work can be done. It will be – how you call it? – a ready-money transaction."

"I desire it to be so," replied Browne a little shortly.

There was silence between them for a few moments. Then Schmidt inquired where Browne's yacht was anchored. Browne informed him; and as he did so, it struck him that this was a rather curious remark upon his companion's part, if, as he had led him to believe at the beginning of the interview, he knew nothing whatever about his coming to Hong-kong. However, he did not comment upon it.

"Dat is goot, den," said Schmidt. "If I find a man who will run de risk, den I will gommunicate mit you before den o'clock to-night."

Browne thanked him; and, feeling that they had reached the end of the interview, bade him good-bye and passed through the shop out into the street once more. His coolie was still seated on the shafts of his rickshá; and, when Browne had mounted, they returned at a smart trot, by the way they had come, to the Club. Here he found his friends awaiting him. They had done the sights of the city, and were now eager to get back to the yacht once more.

CHAPTER XXII

"Did you find your friend Schmidt?" inquired their host of Browne as he seated himself in a chair and lit a cigar.

"Yes," the latter answered, "I found him, and a curious character he is. He has some wonderful curios in his shop, and I could have spent a day there overhauling them."

"I should be very careful, if I were you, what sort of dealings you have with him," said the other, with what struck Browne as a peculiar meaning. "He does not bear any too good a reputation in these parts. I have heard some funny stories about him at one time and another."

"Oh, you need not be afraid on my account," replied Browne. "As I told you in your office, my dealings with him are of a purely commercial character, and I don't think he has robbed me of very much so far. Now, what would you say if we were to make our way to the yacht?"

They accordingly adjourned to the boat. Perhaps, as the result of his interview that afternoon, Browne was in the highest of spirits. He did the honours of his table royally, and the new-comer, ever since that day, has been wont to declare that it was the jolliest dinner of which he has ever partaken in his life. How little he guessed the tragedy that was overhanging it all! Of the quartette, Maas was the only one in any way silent. For some reason or another he seemed strangely preoccupied. It was not until some months later that Browne heard from Jimmy Foote that that afternoon, during their perambulations of the city, he had excused himself, and having discovered the direction of the telegraph station, had left them for upwards of three-quarters of an hour.

"I am not quite myself to-night," he remarked, in reply to a remark from Browne. "But I have no doubt I shall be all right again to-morrow."

Dinner being at an end, they adjourned to the deck, where they settled down to coffee and cigars. The myriad lights of the city ashore flashed out, and were reflected like countless diamonds in the still waters of the bay. Browne was irresistibly reminded of another harbour-scene. At another momentous epoch of his life, he had sat on this self-same deck, and looked across the water at the lights ashore. And what a different man he had been then to the man he was now! So much had happened that it seemed scarcely possible it could be the same.

Their friend of the afternoon proved a most interesting companion. He had spent the greater portion of his life in the Farthest East, and was full of anecdotes of strange men he had met, and still stranger things he had seen. They reclined in their deck-chairs and smoked until close upon ten o'clock. Then the new-comer thought it was time for him to see about getting ashore. He accordingly rose from his chair, and was commencing the usual preparatory speeches, when a hail from alongside reached their ears. A quartermaster went to the bulwark and inquired who was calling, and what he wanted. A voice answered him in educated English: —

"Can you tell me if this is the Lotus Blossom?" it said.

"Yes," answered the quartermaster. "What do you want?"

"I want to see Mr. Browne, if he is aboard," the other answered.

"He is aboard," returned the quartermaster. "But I don't know whether he can see you. I will inquire."

"Who is he?" asked Browne. "Tell him to give you his name."

The quartermaster hailed the sampan again. "He says his name is MacAndrew, sir," he replied after a short pause, "and if you will see him, he says he will not detain you many minutes."

"Let him come aboard, then," said Browne. "Just tell him to look sharp." Then, turning to his guests, he continued, "I wonder who the fellow is, and what he wants with me at this hour of the night." In his own heart he thought he knew pretty well.

"By the way," remarked his guest, "I should advise you to keep your eyes open while you are in this port. You can have no idea what queer sort of people you will have to do with; but when I tell you that it is the favourite meeting-place for half the villains of the East, you will have some very good notion."

"Thanks for the warning," returned Browne. "I'll bear it in mind."

He had scarcely finished speaking, before the figure of a man appeared at the top of the gangway and came towards them. He was tall and slimly built, was dressed entirely in white, and wore a helmet of the same colour upon his head. From an indescribable something about him – it may possibly have been his graceful carriage or the drawl in his voice when he spoke – he might very well have passed for a gentleman.