They had thrown themselves down upon the ground in a place where the
grass was long enough to screen them from view. The light was fading
rapidly. It would soon be quite dark. A heavy mist was gathering in
the valley.
Frank looked at his companion. He could see blood flowing profusely
down the man's neck. For all that, the expression upon Ling's face did
not suggest that he suffered pain. He was grinning.
He held in his hand the loaded revolver he had taken from Yung How in Ah
Wu's opium den. It was manifest that every sense was alert. Screwing
his eyes, he endeavoured to pierce the gloom of the thickets immediately
in front of them.
Nothing was to be seen. No sound disturbed the silence of the evening.
Slowly and stealthily Ling began to move forward through the long grass,
after the manner of a snake, never for a moment lifting his chin more
than a few inches from the ground.
Frank followed him. There was no reason why the boy should have done
so, and without doubt he had been wiser had he remained behind in
safety. But he was consumed by an overmastering desire to see the
matter out, to follow to the bitter end the fortunes of the mighty Ling.
He followed in the man's wake, Ling in his progress was making a kind of
pathway through the grass. Frank was careful not to show himself. He
realised that the exposure of any part of his body would, in all
probability, immediately be greeted by another shot from the glade.
Ling was making for a great boulder that lay upon the outskirts of the
wood, about twenty yards from a place where the undergrowth was
exceedingly dense. He gained this without any mishap; and there, a
moment later, he was joined by Frank.
"You have followed me?" he asked, in a whisper.
The boy nodded his head, not venturing to speak.
"Then you have done so at your own risk. I am not responsible for your
life."
Very cautiously, Ling peered round the boulder behind which they lay in
hiding. Almost at once, a single shot from a revolver was fired from
the thickets immediately before them.
Ling did not draw back, nor did he flinch. On the contrary, he drew
himself forward until at least half his body was exposed to view.
Then came another shot from the wood; Frank saw a bullet strike the
ground not three inches from the man's head. At that moment Ling
himself fired. Three revolver shots rang out in quick succession, and
then, with a roar like that of a charging tiger, the man rose to his
feet and plunged into the wood.
Frank saw the flash of a long knife he carried in his left hand. In his
right he still held his revolver. He crashed into the undergrowth like
a wild bull, and the darkness swallowed him up.
The boy waited an instant; then, as nothing happened, he rose to his
feet and followed after Ling.
He was able to see very little of his surroundings. He found himself in
twilight. Trees arose on every side of him like gaunt spectres, twisted
and deformed. Dark shadows upon the ground seemed to be moving,
floating here and there like silent ghosts.
Knowing not which way to go, for a few seconds the boy remained quite
motionless. Then suddenly there came a loud shout, in which Frank
recognised the voice of Ling. This shout was followed by an uproar, a
noise that bore no small resemblance to the crackling of green wood upon
a mighty fire. Branches were broken; dry sticks and twigs were trampled
under the feet of excited, hastening men.
Frank, running forward, found himself, before he had gone thirty yards,
upon the skirting of the Glade of Children's Tears. Here there was more
light. The boy could see the great broken idols, overgrown with moss
and lichen, lying upon the ground; he could see the ruins of the ancient
temple and the great red stone beneath which the treasure had been
hidden. Then, on a sudden, he became conscious of the figure of a man
crouching behind a rock, not ten yards away.
Though he was well in the shadow, there was sufficient light to enable
the boy to make quite sure that the man in front of him was not Ling.
One could not fail to identify the gigantic proportions of the Honanese;
and this was a thin, small man. Moreover, he did not wear the long robe
of the upper classes in China, but a short jacket, reaching not far
below the waist; and so far as Frank could make out, this coat was red.
Also, the man was bareheaded, whereas Ling had been wearing the buttoned
hat of a mandarin.
Frank remained silent and motionless, scarcely daring to breathe. On
hands and knees the man moved a few paces forward, which brought him
into the light. The boy recognised at once the shrunken, evil features
of Cheong-Chau, the brigand chief.
He could have been given no greater cause to regret the fact that he was
altogether unarmed. In this conflict, the sympathies of the boy were
wholly on the side of Ling. That Cheong-Chau was more evil than Ling
was not to be doubted, since the brigand was never to be trusted. Ling,
on the other hand--so far as Frank's experience went--was not likely to
go back upon his word. He was pitiless and wholly unscrupulous; but at
the same time, he had in his own way certain estimable virtues. The boy
considered that the worst calamity that could, at this juncture,
possibly befall him and his friends was for Cheong-Chau to regain
possession of his hostages. If the brigand overpowered Ling, he would
possess himself of the ransom money, he would recapture his own junk,
setting free the crew which Ling had bound hand and foot; and then, it
was more than probable, he would seek satisfaction in the murder of his
victims.
Frank therefore was eager to render all the assistance he could to Ling.
But since he had upon him neither fire-arms nor weapons of any sort, he
could do nothing but lie still and await the tide of events. Cheong-Chau
continued to move forward on hands and knees. He turned his head
rapidly first one way and then another. The boy was well able to see
that the brigand was armed to the same extent as Ling; in other words,
he carried in one hand a revolver of European manufacture, and between
his teeth a long Chinese knife.
It was plain that the man was searching in all directions for his
adversary. He was still not many yards away from Frank. On a sudden,
he lay quite still, seeming to flatten himself into nothing, just as a
cat does when it lies in ambush. He had evidently seen something.
Frank, straining his eyes, observed another man, visible as a mere
shadow, moving slowly and silently amidst the undergrowth on the other
side of the glade. This man was steadily approaching. Cheong-Chau did
not stir.
When the two men were not fifteen paces away from each other,
Cheong-Chau raised his revolver, and was evidently about to fire, when
suddenly he brought it down again.
"Tong!" said he, in a loud whisper.
"Is that you, Cheong-Chau?" came back the answer.
"It is myself. And have you seen aught of the tiger?"
By then the two men were together lying side by side behind a fragment
of the ruined temple wall. They were so close to Frank that, though
they spoke to one another in whispers, it was easy for him to hear every
word that they said.
"I thought you were he," said the man who had answered to the name of
Tong.
"And I too," said Cheong-Chau. "I was about to fire when I saw that you
were too small to be Ling."
"That is fortunate," said the other, "fortunate--for me."
"And where is Chin Yen?" asked the brigand chief.
"He is close behind me," said the man. "He is here."
Indeed, at that moment they were joined by a third man, who crept
forward from out of the midst of the shadows. The night was descending
rapidly; it was already almost dark. Frank, however, had no doubt as to
the identity of these two men. He remembered very well hearing their
names when he was in the opium den of Ah Wu. Chin Yen was the man who
had fallen down upon his knees beside an opium couch, holding his head
between his hands. Tong was the unfortunate individual who had been
struck down with the paraffin lamp. It was subsequently discovered that
the third man never recovered from his injuries.
"Well, Chin Yen," said Cheong-Chau, "where is the tiger? Have you seen
nothing of him?"
"Nothing at all," came the answer. "Three minutes ago I saw him
standing on the edge of the glade. I was about to fire, when suddenly
he disappeared. I think he fell upon his face."
"He is somewhere here," said Cheong-Chau. "He is too big to hide
himself. We shall find him sooner or later. He cannot have been
spirited away."
Tong shivered--or rather there was a tremor in his voice.
"I don't like this business," said he. "Presently, without a moment's
warning, the tiger will spring upon us from out of the darkness. And
then, woe betide him into whom he digs his claws."
"You are a coward," said Cheong-Chau. "We are three to one, and we are
all armed with revolvers. What is there to fear, if we keep together?
Ling's strength will avail him nothing."
"That is true," said Chin Yen.
All the same the tone of his voice carried not the least conviction. He
was obviously just as frightened of his opponent as his comrade.
Cheong-Chau himself was the most courageous of the three.
"Obey my orders," said he, "and remain at my side. We will search the
place thoroughly. He lies somewhere in hiding. Keep as close to the
ground as possible. He will fire the moment he sees us."
"He may have escaped," said Tong.
"He has done nothing of the kind," said Cheong-Chau. "For two reasons:
first, we must have heard him; secondly, it is not the custom of Ling to
run away."
"Let us go first to the junk," said Chin Yen. "We shall then be ten to
one."
"Fool!" exclaimed Cheong-Chau. "We should never get there. Ling would
shoot us in the open. Come, we do but waste time talking. The glade
must be searched."
As he said the words, he began to move forward, straight toward the
place where Frank was hiding.
The boy's heart was in his mouth. He could scarcely hope that he would
not be discovered. He could not make his escape without being seen nor
was he in a position to offer resistance. And if he was discovered, he
had every reason to believe that Cheong-Chau would kill him.
These were the thoughts that passed rapidly through his mind. He lay
motionless, fearing to breathe, his eyes fixed upon the crouched,
gliding forms of Cheong-Chau and his companions. And then the boy was
discovered. The man called Tong caught sight of him and raised his
revolver to fire. At the moment Tong pressed the trigger, Frank struck
the weapon upward, so that the bullet flew wide through the branches of
the trees.
Knowing that he would be shot if he remained at arm's-length or
attempted to run away, the boy closed at once with his adversary.
Flinging himself into Tong's arms, he endeavoured to seize the man by
the throat; but almost immediately he was overpowered by the three of
them, and found himself pinned to the ground and once again a prisoner.
Chin Yen peered into the boy's face.
"This is not Ling!" he exclaimed.
Cheong-Chau came out with a brutal oath.
"No," said he. "This is not the tiger; it is the foreign devil who has
twice slipped through my fingers."
Frank Armitage closed his eyes and caught his lower lip between his
teeth.