Neither the judge nor Mr Waldron desired so much as ten minutes in which
to arrive at a decision. Twenty thousand dollars is by no means an
impossible sum to a man who is a millionaire. Even the judge himself
would have found little difficulty in producing the money with a few
days' notice.
Cheong-Chau, and even Yung How, who was more conversant with the manners
and customs of Europeans, had underestimated the wealth of Mr Waldron.
To them twenty thousand dollars represented almost fabulous wealth. It
never occurred to them that they might have asked twice as much, and
secured it with no greater difficulty; for we meet the real miser more
in fiction and in fable than in real life, and there are few men who
will not part readily with the whole of their fortune in exchange for
the most valuable of all human possessions: life, the right to walk upon
the face of the earth, to breathe the air of heaven.
Cheong-Chau re-entered the cave, holding in the palm of his hand the
gold watch he had stolen from Mr Waldron.
"Ten minutes," said he. "I trust you are ready with your answer."
Men-Ching stood at his side, and behind his back was a score of his
ruffians, each man with a naked sword.
"We have considered your proposal," said the judge, "and we agree to
it." He spoke the Cantonese language with difficulty, and his
pronunciation was faulty. However, there is little doubt that
Cheong-Chau understood him, for the man nodded his head with an air of
satisfaction.
"You are wise," said he. "Rumour has not lied."
"One moment," said Sir Thomas, taking him up. "There is one question we
would ask you. If the money is sent from Hong-Kong, and taken in safety
to your hiding-place, what guarantee do you propose to give us that you
will set us at liberty or even spare our lives?"
"How would I gain by killing you?" asked the bandit, with a shrug of his
narrow shoulders.
"I have lived in China," said the judge, "for more than thirty years. I
know that there are men in this country--and I see no reason why you
should not be numbered amongst them--to whom murder is a pastime, who
kill for the sake of killing, who derive a fiendish pleasure from
torturing the innocent."
Cheong-Chau carried a hand to his face and stroked his wrinkled chin.
"I see that you are prudent," said he. "For myself, I never bargain
with fools."
"Do you mean," asked the judge, "if the conditions are fulfilled on our
part, you will guarantee our safety?"
"I mean no such thing," said Cheong-Chau. "I guarantee nothing."
"Then we have naught to rely upon," the judge answered, "but your
oath--the oath of a robber?"
"That is so," said the other.
"And may I ask," said the judge, "how much Cheong-Chau reverences the
Five Sacred Books?"
The Chinese answered nothing, but stretched forth a hand, and
deliberately snapped his fingers.
Sir Thomas shrugged his shoulders and turned away.
"We must make the best of a bad business," said he to Mr Waldron. "I
tell you frankly, I don't trust these men. I know what such scoundrels
are."
He spoke in English, and whilst he did so was conscious of a gentle
touch upon the shoulder. He turned and beheld Men-Ching, who presented
him with a brass Chinese ink-box, a large piece of rice-paper and a
writing-brush. "Write your letter," said the old man, "to the English
Viceroy of Hong-Kong. Tell him that the sum of twenty thousand dollars,
in silver, must be hidden under the red stone in the Glade of Children's
Tears, before the waning of the moon."
"Where is this place?" asked Sir Thomas.
"On the Sang-kiang, five Chinese _li_ to the north of the city of
Canton. A narrow path leads due north from the Five-Storied Pagoda.
This path crosses the hills and descends into the valley of the Sang
River--a very beauteous place."
"Are they long _li_?" asked Sir Thomas, understanding well the vagueness
of all Chinese measurements, "or short _li_?"
"They are short _li_," answered Men-Ching, "for the road runs up-hill
until you come to the last _li_, where the traveller descends into a
wide valley of ricefields and fruit trees, li-chi and mango. In the
Sang valley there is a tall tower, from the top of which, in days gone
by, fathers were wont to throw the she-children they could not afford to
keep. A woman child is no use in the world. From the day of her birth
to the day of her death she does little else but talk. On the west side
of the tower is a small wood, and in the centre of this wood is a glade
where the birds sing in summer-time, whilst the water of the river makes
sweet and pleasant music. In the glade are rocks; but in one place
there is a great red stone, almost round. Two strong men can roll it
away from the place where it is; but they must use all their strength.
And when the red stone is rolled away, it will be seen that it rests
upon a great hole in the ground. It is like the lid of a kettle.
Inside this hole there is room enough for twenty thousand dollars."
The judge had listened intently, committing each detail to memory. A
little after, Men-Ching left the cave, and the three white men found
themselves together. Sir Thomas turned to his nephew.
"Did you hear what the rascal said, Frank?" he asked.
"Every word," replied the boy.
"And you remember it all?"
Frank nodded.
"Then," said the judge, "help me to write this letter. It will be by no
means easy to write. I shall have to explain matters very clearly to
Sir John, and I've got to write it with a brush."
In the temple they had been deprived of their pencils and notebooks, and
everything else their pockets contained, and these had not been brought
by Cheong-Chau to the cave. Otherwise Sir Thomas might have asked for
his own fountain pen. As it was, he was now obliged to write in English
characters with a Chinese brush, and this was a tedious business. In
the end, however, the letter was written, covering in all five pages of
Chinese rice-paper, in shape longer than foolscap, but not so broad.
Sir Thomas had written fully. He had explained where and by whom they
had been captured; he even went so far as to give the name of the bandit
chieftain and to relate how he had been betrayed by his own personal
servant, Yung How. He said that he had not the slightest doubt that, if
the rascals were not paid in full upon the stroke of time, the three of
them would be ruthlessly put to death. He ended the letter by
explaining the exact whereabouts of the "Glade of Children's Tears,"
describing the red stone beneath which the ransom money was to be
hidden. He also expressed the opinion that it would be useless to
endeavour to capture the brigands in the neighbourhood of the glade
itself, and he strongly advised the Governor not to attempt to lay an
ambush. He pointed out that such a plan would most assuredly fail,
since the Chinese were sure to exercise the utmost caution, and to have
spies in the neighbourhood. Moreover, the discovery of such a plan
would undoubtedly lead to the immediate death of Sir Thomas himself and
his companions. It would be time enough to think of reprisals, of
taking steps to track down the brigands, after the judge and his party
had returned safely to the island.
As the judge wrote, aided by the flickering light of a torch, Frank and
Mr Waldron looked over his shoulder, each offering occasional
suggestions.
"Do I understand," asked Mr Waldron, "that you don't trust these
fellows?"
"I am afraid I am very far from trusting them," replied the judge. "Men
of this type, in this mysterious, savage country, are as often as not
without honour, cruel beyond description, and incapable of showing
mercy. Moreover, in moments of delight--I know for a fact--they are
capable of committing the most terrible atrocities. I don't wish to
alarm you unnecessarily, Mr Waldron, but I tell you honestly that I fear
the future. Sir John will send the money, provided the letter reaches
him in safety--which I have no doubt it will. But once the money is in
Cheong-Chau's possession, it is quite possible he will kill us, out of
sheer devilry, in the moment of his triumph."
Mr Waldron thrust his hands into his trousers pockets, and shaped his
lips as if he desired to whistle. No sound, however, came from his
lips. He paced backwards and forwards in the cave like a wild beast
that is hungry. For all that, upon his clear-cut, regular features
there was no sign of apprehension. His manner suggested impatience more
than fear.
"It's just cruel luck," said he, as though he were speaking to himself.
"Guess I can't look upon it in any other light. Why did I leave
Paradise City!"
"There's not much paradise about this," said Frank, taking in his hand a
burnt stick and stirring the embers of the fire. A flame sprang forth
that illumined the rugged walls of the cave. Here and there upon the
hard rock were narrow, streaky grooves, where the moisture had trickled
down.
"We're helpless," Mr Waldron burst out, "helpless as the little children
these fiends used to throw from the top of that tower. That's what gets
me on the raw, Judge. I never before felt helpless. In the course of
my life, I have found myself in a great many awkward places; but I have
always been able to see a way out and I have made good in the end. This
thing's different. Hennessy K. Waldron may be a great man in the state
of Nevada; but in this blamed country I guess he don't count more than a
copper cash."
And Mr Hennessy K. Waldron was about right--a copper cash, in the
coinage of China, having the approximate value of the fifth part of a
farthing.