REINHARDT SHOWS HIS COLOURS
Early next morning, Burroughs, lying awake, thinking about getting up,
and worrying about Errington, heard sounds of a violent altercation in
the compound outside his windows. He recognized the voice of his boy
Chin Tai, raised to an indignant squeal, mingled with tones less shrill
indeed, but quite as angry. The disputants were raging at each other in
Chinese, the words following one upon another like the magnified
twittering of birds, or, as Burroughs thought with mild amusement, like
the click of typewriters.
Knowing no Chinese, he was unable to follow the furious dialogue, and
listened drowsily, expecting that the noise would soon subside. But
presently he heard the sound of blows; the war of words had led to
active hostilities. Springing out of bed, he went to the window, and
saw Chin Tai wrestling with a Chinaman of most disreputable
appearance--some beggar, perhaps, who had proved too importunate.
A moment afterwards Chin Tai flung his opponent to the ground, knelt
upon him, and clasping his hands about the man's throat was proceeding
to knock his head against the ground, when Burroughs called sharply from
the window.
"Get up!" he said. "What for you makee all this bobbely?"
Chin Tai rose at once, trembling with rage, and for the moment unable to
express himself. Released from his clutches, the other man staggered to
his feet as soon as he had regained his breath; and Burroughs recognized
him, with a start of amazement, as Lo San, Errington's boy.
"He come this side makee bobbely, sah," shouted Chin Tai. "He hab
catchee plenty muck, no plopa come look-see massa so-fashion."
"Get out of it," cried Burroughs. "Where did you come from, Lo San?
Where's Mr. Errington?"
"Massa Ellington he Meichow side, sah. He belongey plison Su Fing. My
come this side tellum massa; Chin Tai he belongey too-muchee sassy[#];
he say no can see massa; my come long long wailo nightey-time, velly
sick inside. What time my stlong, my smash Chin Tai he ugly facee."
[#] Saucy.
"That'll do. I'll be down in a minute. Stay where you are."
Burroughs made a hasty toilet, ran down into the compound, and eagerly
questioned the man, who he could see was half dead with fatigue and
hunger. He shouted a peremptory order to Chin Tai to bring some food,
which the boy obeyed with a very bad grace. Lo San told his story, and
produced the pack of cards, now bent, torn and indescribably dirty.
His news gave Burroughs a great shock. He had half convinced himself
that Errington had escaped from Chia-ling Fu at the first alarm, and
probably made his way down stream with the idea of taking refuge on
Reinhardt's launch, which had been seen off Pa-tang. There was just a
chance that he had shown fight, and been overpowered; but the fact that
the other Europeans had suffered no ill-treatment reassured Burroughs as
to Errington's ultimate safety. The knowledge that he had been
deliberately captured by Su Fing's orders and carried to the rebel's
head-quarters was alarming. It seemed that Su Fing's personal grudge
against the Englishman had prevailed over his wish to avoid any act that
would call for intervention by a European Power.
Burroughs at once sent for his comprador, Sing Wen. He wished that he
could have consulted Mr. Ting, but the merchant had gone down-stream to
urge on preparations for an expedition to recapture Chia-ling Fu. A few
hundred soldiers had come into Sui-Fu on the previous day, and a small
Chinese gunboat was expected to arrive shortly; but it was generally
known that two or three weeks must elapse before it was possible to
bring up a force large enough to cope with the insurgents. Meanwhile
what was to become of Errington? Lo San had reported the wood-seller's
boast that Su Fing would "slice" his prisoner; and though it was
incredible to Burroughs that the rebel chief should dare to commit so
monstrous a crime, he felt very uneasy: there were many indignities
short of actual torture or death that his old friend might suffer by
Chinese ingenuity. It was important, if anything was to be done for
Errington, that it should be done at once.
Having put all this to his comprador, Burroughs asked for his advice.
Sing Wen was a solid, hard-headed man of forty, who had many connections
of a business kind up the river. But he had to confess that in this
emergency he was at a loss. Burroughs suggested the bribing of the
guards at Su Fing's yamen before Su Fing himself returned; but Sing Wen,
while admitting that money would work wonders sometimes, pointed out
that the present case was exceptional. The rebel chief's underlings
would scarcely be persuaded to connive at the prisoner's escape, knowing
that on Su Fing's return they would certainly be put to the torture.
Sing Wen quoted the maxim of the famous bandit Ah Lum
"Virtue is best: hold Knavery in dread;
A Thief gains nothing if he lose his Head."
Still, it would be something to open up communications with the
insurgents; and Sing Wen in the last resort mentioned his brother's
brother-in-law, the keeper of the opium den at Pa-tang, who had an
extensive acquaintance among Chinamen of doubtful reputation, and could
learn, better than any other man he knew, what were the possibilities of
bringing influence to bear at Meichow.
Pa-tang was not quite half-way between Sui-Fu and Chia-ling Fu. It was
likely to escape annoyance by the rebels because it contained the only
well-equipped opium establishment in the district, and would be visited
indifferently by insurgents and Government troops as neutral ground.
Burroughs decided to run up there with the comprador in his hydroplane.
Sing Wen pointed out that caution would be necessary, because the river
between Pa-tang and Chia-ling Fu would certainly be well patrolled by
the rebels, and there was some risk of being snapped up if the vessel
were discovered out of bounds, so to speak. Burroughs, however, made
light of this. His machine was in perfect order, and he was confident
of being able to escape danger from anything less than a shot from a
gunboat.
They started before noon, and ran into the little harbour of Pa-tang
without attracting much attention. Burroughs remained on the boat while
Sing Wen visited his brother's brother-in-law. The comprador returned
in the course of an hour, and reported that, as he had expected, his
brother's brother-in-law knew one of Su Fing's most trusted retainers.
He was ready to go up river himself and see what could be done to
arrange the escape of the prisoner.
Sing Wen, however, looked so downcast that Burroughs asked him what was
the inside matter.
"My no likee pidgin so-fashion," replied the man. "My velly 'spectable
fella, catchee bad namee supposey fellas see my walkee inside smokee
houso."
Burroughs agreed, but pointed out that an Englishman's life was at least
as valuable as a Chinaman's good name. Since, however, he wished to see
the brother's brother-in-law himself, it was arranged that the three
should meet at a little inn at the head of a creek below the town, into
which the hydroplane could be run.
Thither the comprador brought his relative, a man of perfectly
respectable appearance. Burroughs told him to offer five hundred
dollars down to his friend at Pa-tang, and promise a further two
thousand, to be paid in Shanghai, if the prisoner was permitted to
escape. For his work as honest broker the opium-house keeper should
receive five hundred dollars. This arrangement having been made,
Burroughs returned to Sui-Fu, promising to run up to the inn from time
to time to meet the man on his return, the date of which would depend on
circumstances.
Burroughs found it difficult to control his impatience. During the next
three days he ran to Pa-tang and back several times--more often than his
comprador thought wise. On the afternoon of the fourth day the
negotiator returned, only to report failure. The man he had hoped to
bribe was, if not too faithful, at least too fearful to undertake the
job: Su Fing had shown himself swift and terrible in his punishments.
Endeavours to open up negotiations in other directions had almost ended
in discovery, and the emissary had received from his friend a hint that
he was in imminent danger. He flatly refused to venture a second time
within the lion's jaws.
While they were speaking at the door of the inn, they heard the sound of
a launch coming down the river. The inn stood on a slight eminence,
from which the river could be seen for some distance in each direction.
Sing Wen closely scanned the approaching vessel, and in a few moments
recognized it as Reinhardt's launch. It drew to the side and entered
the harbour. A European was seen to land.
"That massa Leinhadt," said the brother's brother-in-law. "My savvy he
come my shop. He velly good customer. My belongey go chop-chop, no can
keep he waitin'. He no likee pipe got leady 'nother fella. Velly solly,
sah; no good this time."
He went away, and Burroughs was left to digest the loss of five hundred
dollars, and to face the problem over again. It seemed quite hopeless.
If two thousand dollars would not tempt the rebel, nothing would. To
most Chinamen up-country, such a sum represented affluence beyond their
wildest dreams. But Burroughs was one of those men who never let go.
At school he had been a plodder; all his successes had been won by
dogged perseverance; and he returned to Sui-Fu determined to find some
means or other of securing the safety of his friend.
An idea occurred to him later in the day. Reinhardt had been coming down
the river, from the direction of Chia-ling Fu. That fact suggested that
he was at any rate on good terms with the rebels; indeed, it reawakened
Burroughs' suspicion that, behind the scenes, the German was taking some
part in the insurrection. He wondered whether Reinhardt knew of
Errington's capture and imprisonment, and decided that it was
impossible, for the German, if he had any influence with the rebels,
would certainly have taken immediate steps to liberate a servant of his
own firm, and one who had been so closely associated with himself.
Burroughs caught at the idea that Reinhardt, as soon as he knew of
Errington's plight, would at once communicate with the rebels on his
behalf.
Reinhardt was at Pa-tang. Burroughs considered whether he should go
there and call upon him. But reflecting that he would find him at the
opium-shop, he came to the conclusion that it would be imprudent and
possibly useless to open the matter to him there. He was thinking of
sending him a note when, from his window, he saw the motor launch coming
down-stream, and steering towards the town. Reinhardt must have paid
only a passing call at Pa-tang, he thought.
He sent Chin Tai down to the harbour to discover if the German landed
from the vessel. In twenty minutes the man returned with the news that
Reinhardt had gone to his own bungalow. Instantly putting on his hat,
Burroughs hurried to see the German.
"Ah, Mr. Burroughs, zis is an honour," said Reinhardt, as his visitor
was shown in. "It is ze first time you visit my little house; I hope it
will not be ze last."
"Thanks, I'm sure," said Burroughs. "I've come on a private matter of
importance, Mr. Reinhardt. You've heard about Errington?"
"What! Has he apsconded?"
"Absconded! What on earth do you mean? He's shut up in Su Fing's yamen
at Meichow."
"Indeed! Zat surprise me. Zat is a little awkward for your friend."
"Your friend too, Mr. Reinhardt," said Burroughs bluntly. "I am glad
you didn't know it. I came to ask if you would use your influence with
Su Fing to get the poor chap released."
"My influence! Wiz Su Fing! Himmel, do you not know zat Su Fing is ze
leader, ze motor spirit, of zis insurrection? Zat he violates law and
order? And you speak of me, a German, having influence wiz him? My dear
boy," he went on, laying his hand on Burroughs' arm, "you are young, wiz
not much experience; zerefore I forgive ze insult."
Burroughs drew his arm away, and was on the point of blurting out the
common talk of the place; but his habit of self-restraint came to his
aid.
"I didn't intend any insult," he said. "If you take it so, I apologize.
But anyhow, Mr. Reinhardt, don't you think that strong representations
on your part, on behalf of Ehrlich Soehne, might prove very effectual?
Even Su Fing has a wholesome respect for the Kaiser, you may be sure."
"Wizout doubt, but zat enters not into ze business. It is not a matter
zat concerns Ehrlich Soehne: your friend no longer is in zeir employ."
"What?"
"I am sorry," said the German, with a shrug; "but it must be. He was so
very irregular, you know; let ze business go all to pieces; piled up
debts--I beg your pardon?"
In his honest indignation Burroughs had let fall a word, but pulled
himself up in time: it was not his cue at present to quarrel with the
German.
"Ze firm could not stand no more," Reinhardt went on, "so zey have
dismissed him: I have ze cheque for his zree munce salary."
"It's an unfortunate affair," said Burroughs, as calmly as he could.
"Still, even though he is no longer a servant of your firm, you have
yourself been so thick with him that I'm sure you will do all you can,
as a merely personal matter."
"So zick! Yes; and what is ze consequence? He is in my debt; he bleed
me, sir: he owe me five hundred dollars and more. He promised to pay me
wizin a week; ze week is past: he did not pay; and now he is a prisoner:
I never see my money. You say, do somezink for him; what has he done for
me? You ask me to spend my money, risk my life, for a young fool wiz no
principle, no backbone, as you say--for a fellow zat sponge on me, and
zen cheat me----"
The German was working up to a fine heat of spurious indignation; but he
was suddenly checked by an abrupt movement on Burroughs' part. White
with anger the young Englishman had clenched his fist and raised his arm
to strike. But he curbed himself as Reinhardt shrank back.
"This is your house," he said, in a fierce low tone, "and for the moment
I am your guest. You may think yourself lucky. If I hear of your
repeating any of the lies you have just uttered, I swear I'll thrash you
within an inch of your life--you mean hound!"
He could not help catching the man by the collar and shaking him. Then,
flinging him off, he hurried out of the house.