Upon the balcony Frank found Cheong-Chau still in conversation with Ah
Wu. No one would have suspected from the demeanour of the fat
proprietor of the opium den that he plotted the overthrow of the
redoubtable brigand chief. The man was all smiles and Chinese courtesy.
He rubbed his hands together; he flattered his guest; he bowed
repeatedly. Frank advanced, carrying the tray upon which were the four
bowls of opium.
"Ah!" exclaimed Ah Wu. "We have here the choice opium of which I spoke.
I guarantee that the distinguished Cheong-Chau has never smoked the like
of it. I procure it from an agent in Burma. This, I believe, is the
only house in China in which it is sold."
"I thank you, Ah Wu," said the brigand, who had divested himself of the
greater part of his clothing. "I thank you from my heart. I am a rough
man, accustomed to the wilds. Such luxuries seldom come my way. At the
same time, Ah Wu, who is this boy? It occurs to me that I have seen him
before."
The man was staring at Frank, who felt his heart sink within him. Ah
Wu's answer, given without hesitation, was somewhat reassuring.
"He has been here," said Ah Wu, "for many months."
"Strange," said Cheong-Chau, "that I have never seen him before!"
Frank was, at first, at a loss to explain what motive Ah Wu could have
for telling such a deliberate falsehood. It then occurred to him that
Ah Wu could not explain truthfully who he was without mentioning Ling;
and it was--from Ah Wu's point of view--of extreme importance to keep
the name of Ling out of the whole affair. If Cheong-Chau but knew that
the great Honanese was in the building, he would not have remained in
the place for five seconds, much less would he have been so careless as
to allow his physical and mental capacities to be temporarily subdued by
the subtle fumes of the opium poppy.
"Come here, boy," said Cheong-Chau, who had not yet removed his eyes
from Frank. "I want to look at you more closely."
The boy went forward in fear and trembling. Cheong-Chau grasped him by
a wrist, and drew him downward, so that their faces were not more than a
foot apart.
"You bear," said Cheong-Chau, speaking very deliberately, "a most
remarkable resemblance to the very man I am looking for. What is your
name?"
"Ah Li," said Frank.
The boy's heart was beating like a sledgehammer. He felt instinctively
that the Sword of Damocles, which had been suspended for so long above
his head, was at last about to fall. That the result would be fatal to
himself, and those whose lives depended upon him, he could not for a
moment doubt.
"I come from Sanshui," said he, in a weak voice that quailed.
Cheong-Chau suddenly rose to his feet and lifted his voice to a kind of
shriek. It was the voice Frank had heard when Cheong-Chau addressed his
followers in the gloomy nave of the temple; it was the same voice the
man had used on the occasion when he staggered into the cave, senseless
and drugged with opium.
"It is in my way of thinking," he shouted, "that you come from
Hong-Kong, that your name is no more Ah Li than mine is, that you are a
foreign devil in disguise!"
Ah Wu opened his eyes in astonishment. He lifted both hands with
fingers widespread. He looked like an old woman who has seen a ghost.
"There is some mistake!" he cried.
"This boy," roared Cheong-Chau, "is a foreigner."
His voice was so loud that it carried to the farther end of the room.
Everyone heard his words, and those who were not asleep raised
themselves upon their elbows to ascertain what the disturbance was
about. Behind the embroidered curtains the mighty Ling, who had been
listening to all that was said, crouching like a cat, rose stealthily
and slowly to his feet. He was like a great beast of prey that suddenly
scents danger. It was as if he stretched the great muscles of his body,
preparatory to action.
"You are a foreigner!" cried Cheong-Chau.
Frank knew not which way to look. He had put down the tray upon a small
lacquer table by the side of Cheong-Chau's couch. The brigand still
held him tightly by a wrist. Realising that he could not deny the truth
of the man's words, the boy made a foolish, headstrong effort to escape.
With a quick wrench, he freed his arm, and turned upon his heel with the
intention of dashing down the steps. Since subterfuge had failed, he
felt that he had nothing else to rely upon but physical agility.
He had almost reached the head of the stairs when Ah Wu stretched forth
a hand to detain him. It is strange that the boy's exposure should have
been brought about by Ah Wu, in whose interests it was for the deception
to continue--at least, whilst Cheong-Chau was in the house.
Ah Wu attempted to seize the boy by a shoulder, and failing in this, he
clutched at Frank's pigtail, which was flying out behind him. Needless
to say, as the boy plunged down the stairs, he left behind him his false
pigtail in the hands of the dumbfounded Ah Wu. Before he could stop
himself, Frank was at the bottom of the stairs, and there, for the first
time, he remembered that he would have to pass Ling at the outer door.
For the brief space of a moment, Frank looked about him like a hunted
beast. He could see no way of escape. Ling, he knew, was in front of
him, though not visible. The back door was locked. There were no
windows in the lower room. On the other hand, escape from one of the
balcony windows was impossible, for Cheong-Chau and his three followers
stood at the stair-head. The voice of Cheong-Chau filled the room,
uttering, in a weird, sing-song voice, a kind of triumphant paean.
"I am Cheong-Chau," he cried, "and men fear me from the Nan-ling
Mountains to the sea. I have hunted down the fugitive and I have found
him. Those who foil me can expect no mercy. I live by the knife, and
my enemies die by the knife. Death to foreign devils!"
At that, he dashed down the stairs. As he did so he drew from his belt
a long, curved Chinese knife, which he raised high above his head.
Frank turned and fled down the room, but Cheong-Chau was upon him as a
cat springs at a mouse. The boy was caught by the coat, and jerked
backward. With difficulty he maintained his balance. Looking up, he
beheld Cheong-Chau's knife raised on high, whilst the man's eyes were
fixed upon the region of the boy's heart.
"By the knife!" shrieked Cheong-Chau. "By the knife!"
The cruel weapon glittered in the light emanating from the paraffin
lamps. Frank closed his eyes, knowing that the end was about to come.
He felt that he had not strength to look longer into that impassioned
face.
Then, quite suddenly, there came a roar like that of a charging lion.
Frank was pushed aside and sent flying across the room, to pitch, head
foremost, over an unoccupied couch. Gathering himself together, he
beheld a feat of strength that was amazing.
[Illustration: "THERE CAME A ROAR LIKE THAT OF A CHARGING LION."]
The mighty Ling had swooped down upon his rival as an eagle snatches his
prey. A blow from his great fist sounded like a pistol shot, and
Cheong-Chau, without a sound, fell in a heap senseless on the floor. And
then two of the brigand's followers were seized by the throat, and their
two heads were brought together with a crash. One man pitched forward
on the instant, and lay upon his face, flat across the body of his
leader. As for the other, he went reeling round the room like a man
dazed and drunken. Then he dropped down upon both knees by the side of
a couch, holding his head between his hands.
The third man turned and fled in trepidation at the sight of the fate of
his comrades. However, he had gone no farther than half-way up the
stairs, when Ling snatched up one of the small lacquer tables, and
hurled it at the fugitive with such force that it crashed to atoms
against the banisters. This projectile was followed, a fraction of a
second later, by a lighted paraffin lamp, which stretched the man
senseless upon the balcony at the feet of the amazed Ah Wu.
All this had happened in less than a minute. Frank Armitage had only
just time to observe that the lamp had fortunately gone out, and that
there was no danger of the place being set on fire. And then he himself
was plucked violently from off his feet.
Ling had picked him up as though he were a babe in arms. In his haste
and violence, the man tore down the embroidered curtains. Frank heard
the front door slam, and then he was conscious of the fact that he was
being borne onward at a terrific pace, through the dark and narrow
streets of the great Chinese city.