Held by Chinese Brigands

Frank knew the uselessness of trying to get anything definite out of the fisherman. He therefore lay back in a comfortable attitude, and gave himself up to thoughts of the perilous situation in which he had left Mr Waldron and his uncle.

He wondered how far Men-Ching had progressed upon his journey to the coast. So far as he could guess, the rascal should be already in Canton. At the same time, though he did not know where the town of Kwang-Chin was, he believed that he himself could not be far from the great capital of Southern China. Canton was but a few hours by river steamboat from Hong-Kong. The boy had therefore completed the greater part of his journey.

They arrived at Kwang-Chin in the small hours of the morning, and Frank could not persuade the fisherman to take him any farther. He was therefore obliged to go ashore and attempt to find a lodging for what remained of the night.

This was no easy matter, for the town appeared to consist of nothing but opium dens. It was an old walled city, the ramparts and gateways of which must have been built centuries before, in the days when China was harassed and ravaged by continual internecine wars. Frank, who did not feel capable of travelling farther that night, decided to wait till morning, when he might be able to find another fisherman who would consent to take him down-stream, probably as far as the main river, if not to Canton itself. In the meantime, he realised that he could do nothing better than snatch a few hours' additional rest, recognising the fact that he would still be called upon to undergo considerable hardships and dangers.

He therefore plucked up courage, and entered the first opium den he came to, in the doorway of which he had observed a light. He found himself in an establishment similar in all respects to that which has already been described as nourishing in the slums of Canton under the proprietorship of Ah Wu. This place, however, was very much dirtier, and-with the exception of Cheong-Chau's brigands-Frank had never seen a more villainous collection of men than the habitués of the place, who were sprawled in all manner of attitudes upon the various couches. And then he was astounded, and at the same time considerably alarmed, to observe that several of these coolies were wearing scarlet coats, similar in all respects to those worn by the bandits. But, once inside, he could not very well beat a hasty retreat. He summoned to his aid all his presence of mind and addressed himself to the proprietor, a venerable-looking man with gold-rimmed spectacles and a white goat's-beard.

"I desire, for a few hours," said the boy, speaking in his best idiomatic Cantonese, "a couch upon which to sleep. I am a poor man," he added, "but I will pay you to the best of my ability."

"You will not smoke opium?" asked the host, opening his eyes in surprise.

"I have not the habit," said Frank.

The proprietor adjusted his spectacles upon the very tip of his nose and regarded the boy from over the top of the glasses.

"How very remarkable!" he observed. "Every man, however, can please himself. You may certainly sleep here. My charge is forty cash."

Now forty cash is the equivalent of two-pence, and this does not appear to the European mind to be an exorbitant charge for a night's lodging. But Frank Armitage knew the Chinese character. He had a part to act, and he knew how to act it. He remembered that a Chinaman loves a bargain.

"I will give you thirty cash," said he.

The old man pointed to the couch. "It is an excellent bed," said he. "The hangings are of silk, and I guarantee that the mattress is free from vermin. I will let you have it for thirty-eight cash."

"I offer you thirty-two," said Frank. "Remember, I require it for a few hours only."

"In that case," said the landlord, "we will say thirty-six."

"I will give you thirty-four."

"Good!" cried the landlord. "We will call it thirty-five and have done with the matter."

Thereupon Frank counted out thirty-five of the little copper coins which the tea-grower had given him and which he carried upon a string slung around his neck like a necklace. Indeed each cash has a little square hole in the middle of it for this purpose.

Having settled his account, the boy took off his coat, for the heat of the room was intense and the atmosphere foul with the mingled odour of paraffin oil, opium smoke and Chinese garlic He arranged the pillow, then stretched himself at full length upon the couch. A group of three or four men at the other end of the room were talking loudly, and it was the constant sound of their voices that made it difficult for the boy to fall asleep.

He was dozing off, and in that blissful state which lies midway between slumber and consciousness, when he was startled by a remark that came to his ears very distinctly from the other end of the room.

"They tell me that Cheong-Chau has returned to the mountains."

The answer was a chuckle.

"Cheong-Chau is never idle," came the reply. "Rumour has it that there are fine fish in his net. Do you know that Men-Ching passed through here late yesterday afternoon?"

"Indeed! And where was he going?"

"He did not say."

"Some secret business," said the other. "Men-Ching is no more than the coolie of Cheong-Chau. He does all the dirty work. He runs the errands."

It was here that the voice of a third man joined in the conversation.

"I know where Men-Ching was going," said he. "I made it my business to find out. He goes to Canton to the opium den of Ah Wu, which lies near the Mohammedan Mosque. He did not leave this place till nearly ten o'clock to-night, after having smoked several pipes of opium. He is a great smoker, Men-Ching. He went down the river on a wupan that was taking a cargo of rice to Canton. The wupan calls at Sanshui, to take on board certain chests of tea."

The man who had spoken first laughed loudly.

"You know everything, Hsien-Lu," said he. "You are always prying into other people's affairs. For myself, though I wear the scarlet coat, I think it well to give Cheong-Chau as wide a berth as possible. He will have his head cut off some day. That is beyond all doubt. And on that occasion I should prefer not to accompany him. And now, good-night. I desire to sleep. The opium has made me drowsy."

After that there was silence. Frank gave them about ten minutes in which to prepare themselves for slumber. Then he got up from his couch, put on his coat and, unobserved, left the opium den.

Outside he took in a deep breath of the fresh night air, then hurried in the direction of the river. He realised that fortune had played in a remarkable manner into his hands. Men-Ching was but a few hours in front of him. He intended, if possible, to overtake the man and possess himself of the letters. He might be able to do this by stealth if he could not succeed by force. He could, at any rate, make sure that the letters reached their destination, since the lives of both his uncle and Mr Waldron depended upon their delivery into the hands of the Governor of Hong-Kong.

CHAPTER XI-OF THE REAPPEARANCE OF LING

Walking rapidly, the boy soon found himself upon the right bank of the river. Though there was as yet no sign of daybreak in the east, several people were already abroad, for the Chinese begin their day's work early in the morning and do not cease till late at night. Parties of men were engaged in loading the junks and wupans which were moored to the wharves and jetties.

Frank walked along the river-side until he found a junk about to sail. He hailed the captain, a tall, sun-burnt Chinaman with his pigtail coiled round the top of his head, who wore hardly any clothes at all. This man informed him that the junk was bound upon a fishing cruise upon the open sea. He readily agreed to take Frank as far as Canton for a small consideration in the way of copper cash; and a minute later, the boy was on board, whilst the junk moved down-stream under full canvas.

Nearly all the relatives of the captain and his crew had come down to the wharf to bid them good-bye. There were small-footed Chinese women, and little round-faced, naked children, each of whom appeared to have eaten so much rice that he looked in danger of bursting. There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth-for the Chinese on occasion can be exceedingly emotional-and no sooner was the junk clear of her moorings than the silence of the morning was disturbed by a veritable fusillade of Chinese squibs, rockets and crackers.

Indeed it might have been an Eastern Fifth of November. A great bundle of gunpowder crackers, tied to the poop of the vessel, went off in a kind of feu de joie, sending out so many sparks in all directions that it appeared that the ship was in danger of catching fire. The idea and object of this custom, which is universal throughout China from Tonkin to the Great Wall, is to scare away the evil spirits which might be disposed to embark on board the departing ship. The Chinese believe in the potency and the ubiquity of evil spirits. A European-commonly called "a foreign devil" – is invariably accompanied by a host of such attendant ghosts. Indeed, it is extremely difficult for any man, even a virtuous Chinese, to avoid being shadowed by malignant spooks who desire nothing more than to lead him into calamity and misfortune. There is, as every Chinese is well aware, but one method of driving away these evil spirits, and that is by exploding so much gunpowder and creating such a noise, that they flee in all haste back to the spirit land whence they come.

Frank Armitage observed this ceremony from the forepart of the boat. He had often witnessed such a scene before in the Chinese quarter of the harbour of Hong-Kong, but he had seldom seen such an expensive and gorgeous display. It was evident that the master and owner of the junk was a rich man who could afford to insure his property at the maximum premium. Also, this particular junk had an unusually large pair of eyes painted upon the bows. As the captain himself explained later in the day, if a junk has no eyes it cannot see where it is going. If a junk cannot see where it is going, it will probably, sooner or later, strike a rock or another ship, or run ashore. That would be a disaster for both the junk and its owner. Hence a junk must have eyes the same as a man. This argument is thoroughly Chinese and would be entirely rational provided the painted eyes upon the bows of a Chinese ship were of the slightest practical use.

All that day they sailed down-stream towards the centre of the great valley of the West River. Every mile the country became more and more thickly populated. They passed many villages situated upon both banks of the river, the houses in the majority of cases overhanging the water, supported by heavy wooden piles. The country was exceedingly fertile, being given over almost exclusively to the cultivation of rice. There were few trees and few hills except far in the distance, towards the north, where the foothills of the great Nan-ling Mountains stood forth upon the horizon like a wall.

Late the following afternoon the river joined a wider stream flowing towards the south-east. This Frank at first believed to be the West River itself, but he was informed by the captain of the junk that the Si-kiang was still fifty li to the south.

It was midnight when they turned into the main stream, and soon afterwards they saw before them the bright lights of the city of Sanshui, which is situated about twenty-five miles due west of Canton.

At this place, Frank was in two minds what to do. He might go straight on to Canton and thence down the river to Hong-Kong, at both of which places he would be able to get in touch with his friends. On the other hand, he had every reason to suppose that Men-Ching was at that very moment in the city of Sanshui. The junk had made good headway down the river, and the boy knew that the boat on which Cheong-Chau's messenger had come south was to call at Sanshui to take on a cargo.

Now there is no doubt that Frank Armitage would have been wise had he first considered his own safety. He was already practically out of danger; there was no vital necessity for him to put his head deliberately into the lion's mouth. If his determination appears to be rash, it may be supposed that he was guided by some natural instinct that warned him that, in this case, the most dangerous course was the only means by which his uncle and Mr Waldron could be saved.

Be that as it may, he argued thus: from the very moment he escaped from the cave his journey had been extraordinarily uneventful; he saw no reason why it should not continue to be so. If Cheong-Chau's men were in pursuit he had seen nothing of them; he had apparently left them miles behind. He had every reason to be satisfied with his disguise; he was fairly confident that even if he found Men-Ching he would not be recognised, since he knew the old man to be extremely short-sighted. Throughout his journey, he had experienced no difficulty in passing himself off as a Chinese. The barber, the proprietor of the opium den, the fisherman and the captain of the junk-all had taken him to be a native of the country. The boy was sanguine of success; he never dreamt for a moment of failure. He saw no reason why he should not succeed in finding Men-Ching, in tracking the old rascal all the way to Hong-Kong and there having him arrested by the British police authorities. He even considered the possibility of completing the remainder of his journey actually in the company of Men-Ching and his companion.

He therefore asked the captain of the junk to set him ashore. He paid the man according to his agreement, and found himself, at about one o'clock in the morning, in the centre of a very dilapidated and evil-smelling city.

Since he had slept a good deal on board the junk-there being nothing else for him to do-he decided to remain awake until daybreak, keeping a close watch upon the bund, alongside which the junks and river-boats were moored. He felt sure, from what he had overheard in the opium den, that one of the many wupans that lay alongside the wharves was that upon which Men-Ching had come down the river. His object was first to discover the wupan. He would then have no difficulty in finding Men-Ching himself.

The boy seated himself upon the end of a jetty whence he could obtain a good view of the harbour. A watery moon was low in the heavens, and this, together with the stars, illumined the river with an iridescent, ghostly light, by which it was possible to see for a considerable distance.

The hour was as yet too early for the riverside workmen to begin work. The bund was deserted save for a number of rats, which were to be seen quite clearly continually crossing the open space that separated the houses from the ships.

Though the night was warm the air was somewhat damp, and Frank, fearing that he would contract malarial fever, rose to his feet and strolled casually down the jetty. At the corner of a narrow street he came quite suddenly face to face with a most alarming personage.

The expression "face to face" cannot be taken literally, for the man was a giant, and Frank's face was scarcely on a level with his chest. In the shadowy slums of a poverty-stricken Chinese town, at such a ghostly hour as two o'clock in the morning, to find oneself unexpectedly confronted by an individual of the stature of a Goliath and with the countenance of a demon, is an experience well calculated to give a jolt to the nervous system of anyone. To put the truth in a word, Frank Armitage was frightened out of his wits, and these fears were by no means dissipated when the Herculean stranger, without the least warning, grasped him by the collar of his coat and lifted him bodily from off his feet.

"Ha!" the man roared, in the Cantonese of the educated classes. "A river-side thief! A junk rat! A prowler by night! Tell me, friend weasel, have you stolen rice from on board a Canton junk, or a night-watchman's supper?"

"I pray you, sir," cried Frank, "put me down upon my feet again. I am no thief, I assure you, but a peaceable citizen of Wu-chau, who goes upon a visit to his grandfather."

"A peaceable citizen!" roared the man, bursting into laughter. "That's good, indeed. I would have you to know that all citizens are peaceful when they fall into the hands of the mighty Ling."

So if Frank were none the wiser, the reader at any rate is better informed. Frank Armitage had never in his life, to the best of his knowledge, heard of the mighty Ling. The reader, however, has made that extraordinary man's acquaintance. He knows that Ling was not by any means one who could be trifled with, and he has been given some kind of a notion of the character and reputation of this same unmitigated villain who was wont to call himself "the mighty Ling."

The giant set down the boy upon his feet, planting him immediately in front of him.

"I have need of you," said he. "It is possible you may be able to render me some assistance. You doubtless have not failed to observe that the gods have made me too big to hide myself without considerable inconvenience. It is in this regard that you can help me. If you do so faithfully I shall reward you. If you attempt to play the fool with me, you go into the river with a twisted neck. And now, follow, my junk rat! Follow me!"

At that, he grasped the boy by a wrist and, taking such tremendous strides that Frank was obliged almost to run, dragged him along the wharf.

CHAPTER XII-HOW MEN-CHING ESCAPED

Ling led the way to one of the many warehouses which were situated along the wharf-which in China are called "go-downs." On attempting to open the door and finding it locked, with one wrench the Chinaman tore the hinges from the jamb and, casting the door aside, dragged Frank into a great darkened chamber that smelt of grease or some kind of oil. There he struck a match.

One of the first objects that attracted his attention was a candle stuck in the neck of a bottle, and this he at once lighted so that the place was dimly illumined.

The "go-down" was filled with all manner of packing-cases, casks, barrels and bales. Picking these up, one after another, as though each weighed but a few pounds, the great Honanese-who might have been in a towering rage-threw them right and left, breaking many open, and creating such a disturbance that Frank was surprised that the whole town was not awakened.

After a while, by means of such brutal violence, he had make a way for himself to the farther end of the warehouse. Thither he ordered Frank to bring the candle, and then proceeded to ascend a step-ladder that led through a trap-door, such as one usually finds over stables, to an upper story.

The boy, following his captor, found himself in a kind of loft, containing all manner of things-rope, sails, fishing-nets, straw and sacks of millet. Here Ling, holding the candle well above his head, carefully examined the roof.

He very soon found what he was looking for, and, laughing aloud, ordered Frank to come to him. Laying one of his enormous hands upon the boy's shoulder, he suddenly burst forth into the following eulogy upon his own abilities and prowess.

"The mighty Ling," he declared, "is the favoured child of the gods; swift as the kite, wise as the tortoise, strong as the tigers of Amoy. There are few things within the attainment of mortal man that Ling cannot accomplish. Scholar, poet, robber, soldier, merchant, mandarin-all these am I, and more. But there is one thing, I declare to you, that is beyond me. Guess, my little junk rat, what it is?"

Fortunately Ling did not appear to expect an answer, for he ran on, without giving the boy time to reply:

"Do you see that man-hole in the roof?" he asked, pointing upward. "Well, the sages themselves could not devise a method by which the mighty Ling could pass through there. But you can, my monkey, and thither you go, whether you want to or not."

"What am I to do when I get there?" asked Frank, who could think of no way of escaping from this truculent, swaggering monster.

"Know you nothing," roared Ling, "of the sayings of the seers? How it is written truly that 'Patience filleth the stomach, whereas he that hurries to the feast falleth by the way'? Hearken unto me and ask no questions."

He placed the candle upon the ground and seated himself straddle-legged across a sack, with his great legs sprawled out before him. Frank regarded the man's face in the candlelight, and thought that he had never seen anyone of appearance more formidable and sinister.

His huge countenance was like a mask of some weird and evil Eastern god. There were deep lines scored about his forehead, mouth and eyes-lines of wrath; so that even in moments of rest he appeared to be in the throes of an uncontrollable passion. And this expression of fierceness and of anger was intensified by his black, glittering eyes, which seemed to pierce whatsoever he regarded. In addition to this, Frank was impressed by the gigantic proportions of the Honanese: his great sinewy hands, the muscles in his neck, his thighs, each as thick as the waist of a smaller man.

"Listen," said he. "Listen to the description of the man who goes by the name of Men-Ching, who is a fool who believed in his blindness that he and his cur-dog friends could cheat the mighty Ling."

It was as if Frank Armitage had been struck. He was so astonished at the sudden mention of Men-Ching's name that he caught his breath in a kind of gasp. Fortunately Ling was not looking at him at the moment. The man had drawn a long knife of Malay design from his belt, and was examining it fondly, feeling the sharpness of the blade with his thumb.

"This man," said Ling, "is over sixty years of age-old in crime, but a babe in matters of intelligence. He has a long thin beard upon his chin and his grey queue is no larger than the tail of a rat. He wears a faded scarlet coat, and limps with his left foot when he walks. Also, he rubs his hands together as if he were always pleased. Pleased!" roared Ling. "When he sets eyes upon me, the pleasure will go out of him as a candle is blown out in the draught. But, tell me, you have listened and will remember?"

Frank answered that he had paid strict attention. He did not think it incumbent upon him to advise the "mighty Ling" that he already knew Men-Ching perfectly well. He was both amazed by the coincidence and utterly bewildered as regards the business which these two could have in common. He did not dream for a moment that Ling was as dangerous to himself as the redoubtable Cheong-Chau: that he now found himself in the presence of the man who would soon hold in his great hands the trump cards in this colossal game of Death.

Ling picked up the candle, and rose to his full height.

"If I lift you up by the feet," said he, "you should be able to reach that rafter. Thence, without difficulty, you should be able to gain the man-hole, and so to the roof. From the roof you will obtain an excellent view of the harbour. The moonlight should be sufficient to enable you to see anyone who approaches. Keep your eyes open, and the moment you see the man whom I have described let me know. I will remain here."

Frank had no alternative but to obey the instructions of this extraordinary ruffian. Indeed, he was powerless as a mouse in the jaws of a cat. He was ordered to straighten himself, to remain in a position perfectly upright and rigid, and then he was lifted high above the man's head until he was within easy reach of one of the rafters. Swinging himself on to this, he gained the man-hole which had been pointed out to him, and a moment after he found himself upon the roof.

Thence-as Ling had predicted-he was able to look down upon the numerous wharves and jetties along the bank of the river. The moon was sinking low, but it was so magnified by refraction on account of the moisture in the atmosphere that the boy was able to see quite clearly, not only the various junks, wupans and sampans that lay anchored along the shore, but also the whole extent of the bund itself.

A party of coolies was already at work, and in several places there were signs of life on board the ships. Frank, looking down through the man-hole through which he had passed, could see the mighty Ling, who had taken a book from his pocket and was reading aloud by means of the candlelight. He was reading the Analects of Confucius, a volume that is admitted to contain some of the purest ethical reasoning in the world. The man read aloud in a deep voice that sounded to Frank like a roll of far distant thunder. He was obviously fully conscious of the literary and philosophic beauty of the famous maxims.