The situation in which the judge and his companions found themselves was
certainly not of the pleasantest. It so happened that Sir Thomas knew
nothing of the reputation of the redoubtable Cheong-Chau. However, the
man's character was made evident upon every feature of his face.
Standing in the centre of the hall, gesticulating wildly, he harangued
his audience for the better part of twenty minutes without once pausing
for breath. Sir Thomas was sufficiently acquainted with the Cantonese
language to follow the drift of the man's speech, whereas Frank was able
to understand every word. Mr Waldron, of course, comprehended nothing.
The American was under the impression that he was about to be put to
death. He regarded, with a kind of timorous curiosity, the murderous
weapons of the bandits and the villainous facial contortions of
Cheong-Chau. The man held forth in the flowery language of the Chinese
of the southern provinces. He talked a great deal about his own power
and cruelty. He did not seem to care in the least whether or not anyone
listened to him. He boasted in regard to his past crimes; he spoke of
his courage and audacity; he uttered innumerable threats. And in the
end the captives were led away into one of the smaller rooms that gave
upon the great hall of the temple.
There they remained until late the following evening, when the whole
party--with the exception of Yung How, who returned to Canton--set out
across the mountains, traversing the narrow pass from above which Frank
Armitage had first beheld the brigands. They entered, at dead of night,
the bleak, desolate valley extending towards the north. Cheong-Chau
himself led the way, following a path, carrying in his hand a large
Chinese lantern suspended from a pole about six feet long.
Daylight found them still upon the line-of-march. They had by then
ascended to a high altitude, where the atmosphere was both cold and
damp. The crests of the mountains were wreathed in a thin white mist,
similar to that which is found in Scotland, which drenched them to the
skin.
They were brought to a halt at the mouth of a certain cave, in a very
desolate, inhospitable region--a country of sheer barren slopes, rugged
peaks and turbulent mountain streams that descended thousands of feet in
series of roaring cataracts. They had been conducted to a spot upon the
globe's surface where, in all probability, no white man had ever been
before.
The entrance to the cave was hidden behind an enormous boulder, almost
as big as a fair-sized house, which balanced itself upon the very brink
of a steep slope that descended at an angle of about forty-five degrees.
Upon these slopes a few withered shrubs were growing: leafless, twisted
things, tortured by the bitter east winds that swept those cheerless
valleys.
Inside, the cave was comparatively comfortable. In the centre a wood
fire was burning brightly, and though this filled the place with smoke,
it served to introduce both light and warmth into that gloomy prison;
for indeed the cave was destined, for many days to come, to play the
part of a prison. For all that, some attempt had been made to give this
place a homely aspect. Several Chinese mats were spread upon the floor,
and there were wooden shelves loaded with provisions: dried fish, rice,
and bags of green China tea.
To give so redoubtable a rogue as Cheong-Chau the little justice he
deserves, it must be stated that his captives were treated with every
consideration. They were well fed, on simple Chinese food, which must
have been carried miles across the desolate mountains upon the backs of
coolies. They were given straw mattresses upon which to sleep, and were
allowed to warm themselves by the fire. Mr Waldron--as the only member
of the party who was a stranger to the country--expressed the greatest
anxiety in regard to their fate. His mind was filled with vague fears
to the effect that their lives were being preserved in order that they
might eventually be tortured. He had interested himself in all manner
of gruesome subjects; he had heard of the "death by a thousand cuts,"
the Chinese "corkscrew," and the wholesale manner in which Cantonese
executions were usually carried out. None the less, he was not afraid.
He was a man who had led a hard life, who had faced danger more than
once, and who had learnt--in spite of his riches--to regard his own
existence as by no means an essential part of the great scheme of
universal things. He speculated in regard to his destiny after the
manner of a man who backs horses without knowing anything whatsoever
about what--for some reason or other--has been called "the sport of
kings."
"Say, Judge," said he, "I don't cotton to this notion of a thousand
cuts. Guess one cut's enough for me. If they're going to kill us, why
don't they do it and have done with it, instead of stuffing us full of
rice and rotten fish?"
Sir Thomas shook his head.
"There is every reason to suppose," he answered, "that this is a case of
ransom. If this rascal had meant to murder us he would have done so
before emptying our pockets of all the money, watches and valuables in
our possession. You may be sure, Mr Waldron, he has brought us here for
a purpose. That is not troubling me in the least."
"It troubles me," said the American. "I left Paradise City with the
idea of seeing the world; but I guess, Judge, this is one side of human
experience that it was not my original intention to investigate. Wish I
was back in Nevada."
Frank Armitage laughed aloud. It was the first time he had done so
since the calamity had befallen them. Sir Thomas sat cross-legged by
the fire, stirring the embers with a stick, his brows set in a frown.
"Even now," said he, in a quiet voice, "even now I can't realise that
Yung How is the unmitigated villain he is."
Frank bit his lip. "If I ever get the chance," said he, "I'll be even
with that scoundrel."
"He has been in my service," continued Sir Thomas, "for nearly seven
years. During the whole of that period he has never once given me cause
to suspect or to mistrust him. That shows you very clearly, Mr Waldron,
what a subtle rascal a Chinaman can be. For seven years he has been
obedient, faithful, and even honest; and yet--it is now apparent--all
that time he was but waiting his chance."
Mr Waldron made a wry face.
"Guess he might have waited another seven years," said he, "or at least
till I was clear of Hong-Kong. Why his chance should have come the
moment I arrive in the colony is a mystery to me."
"I am sorry to say, Mr Waldron," said Sir Thomas, "I can't regard that
coincidence in the light of a mystery. I have a very shrewd suspicion
that your wealth is the sole cause of all our trouble."
"Not the first time," added Mr Waldron, "by a long chalk, that money has
led to disaster. I tell you frankly, I was a happier man in the old
days--when I lived on fifteen dollars a week--than after I had made my
pile."
"I can very well believe it," said Sir Thomas. "That, however, doesn't
alter the situation in the least. Mark my words, very soon Cheong-Chau
will show his hand."
It is clear that the judge had correctly estimated both the
circumstances of the case and the character of Cheong-Chau; for scarcely
had the last words left his lips when the brigand chieftain himself
entered the cave, accompanied by Men-Ching, his second-in-command.
Cheong-Chau seated himself cross-legged upon the ground, and for a few
moments warmed his hands by the fire, without uttering a word. Then he
spoke in the Cantonese language, addressing himself to the judge:
"Those who fall into the hands of Cheong-Chau," said he, "must purchase
their freedom in silver _taels_ or in blood."
The judge did not reply. After a pause Cheong-Chau continued. Though
he was a little man, his voice was both deep and guttural. He spoke
slowly and with great deliberation, as if particularly desirous that his
words should not be misunderstood.
"I make you a fair offer," said he. "It is not my habit to mince
matters. I hold you captive. You are my prisoner. I can do with you
what I like. No one will ever find you here. Neither can you escape;
day and night there are sentries at the mouth of the cave. They tell me
that you have the reputation of being a wise man. If that is so, you
cannot fail to see that you and your companions are in my power--birds
caught in the fowler's net."
He paused again and looked at the judge, who merely nodded his head.
"This is my offer," he continued. "After I have explained matters I
shall give you ten minutes in which to make up your mind. You are to
write a letter to the Governor of Hong-Kong, or to anyone else you may
choose. In that letter you are to say that your life, and the lives of
those who are with you, are in the hands of Cheong-Chau, and that
Cheong-Chau demands, as the price of your freedom, the sum of twenty
thousand Hong-Kong dollars, to be paid in cash before the new moon."
Having laid down his conditions, the man remained silent whilst the
judge explained the meaning of his words to Mr Waldron.
"It is as I told you," said Sir Thomas. "Twenty thousand dollars. The
rascal certainly cannot be accused of being modest."
Mr Waldron snapped his fingers.
"So far as I am concerned," said he, "he can have it. Don't let the
money worry you, Judge. I've paid that for a picture."
The judge turned to Cheong-Chau and asked him to continue. The man
grinned--an unholy grin of fiendish satisfaction. To him and his
cut-throats the sum was more than a fortune; it would serve to keep the
whole gang of them in luxury for the rest of their lives.
"The matter," said he, "is quite simple to arrange. Write your letter,
and I will undertake to have it conveyed to Hong-Kong. The moon is but
three days old. We have therefore twenty-five days. Together with your
letter I will send one of my own, in which I propose to demand that the
money be left hidden in a certain place upon the Sang River, not far
from Canton. If the whole of this sum is safely deposited in the proper
place before the conclusion of the waning of the moon, you and your
friends shall be set at liberty. If, however, for any reason, the
ransom is not paid, I swear by the Five Sacred Books that all three of
you will be put to death. Concerning the manner of your death," he
added, "I say nothing--beyond a warning that those who die by order of
Cheong-Chau die neither easily nor swiftly."
The man got to his feet.
"And now," said he, "you have ten minutes in which to discuss the
question with your friends, in which to make up your mind. Say that you
agree, and my messenger leaves for Hong-Kong within an hour. Refuse, and
you die before another sun has risen."
With that Cheong-Chau turned upon his heel and, followed by Men-Ching,
shuffled from the cave.