IN CAPTIVITY
By the time that Nelly and Little Yi had been at Yung Ching a month,
Nelly and An Ching had become great friends. Poor Nelly would have been
very miserable but for An Ching, who used to cheer her by constantly
talking about Mr. and Mrs. Grey and when Nelly would be back in Peking.
And An Ching used to tell Nelly about her own childhood, which must have
been very dull, Nelly thought; her marriage to Hung Li when she had seen
him only twice, and how she was carried in a red chair from her
parents' house to Ku Nai-nai's. She told Nelly that Hung Li was very
greedy, and would do anything for money. It was he who prevented his
mother from taking the children home the evening they left the Legation,
as she at first fully intended to do; but Ku Nai-nai was herself rather
fond of money, and did not require much persuasion.
An Ching taught Nelly to sew backwards in Chinese fashion, using a
thimble without an end, like a thick ring, on her finger; and she cut
out and helped her to make a little blue cotton coat which they thought
would fit Baby Buckle. Nelly used to kiss and pat that little coat, and
loved it quite as much as any doll she had ever had. In return Nelly
taught An Ching to knit, with some chopsticks, which they pointed at
the ends, for needles.
The children were rarely allowed to go outside the Kus' compound, and
never alone, but they could play out of doors as much as they wished.
The larger court had the houses or set of rooms in it, and there was a
smaller court which was entered through a queer gateway just like a
large round hole in the wall. This court was at the side of Ku Nai-nai's
rooms, and had no windows looking into it. An Ching, Nelly, and Little
Yi used often to go and sit there with their work, and the children
sometimes played at jumping through the hole. They saw no one but the
Kus and their servant. Even when the barber came to shave Hung Li's head
they were shut up out of sight, and their hair was kept short with Ku
Nai-nai's scissors.
Little Yi was becoming almost reconciled to life in Yung Ching, for
although she was fond of her parents, she did not love them as Nelly did
hers. She missed the large compound of the British Legation, and would
have been very pleased to know at any moment that she was to be sent
home. But she ate, slept, and was just as contented all day long as she
had always been.
But Nelly, poor child, was no longer the merry little hopping and
skipping creature she had been in Peking. She never had a fit of the
giggles now, and she was thin and pale; still, she was not absolutely
miserable, for she felt sure she was going to leave Yung Ching soon,
especially after she overheard a conversation which took place in Ku
Nai-nai's room one night after she and Little Yi were in bed.
Hung Li began by telling Ku Nai-nai he had been cheated out of some
money by a man with whom he had done business that day; and he added:
'It is time these children went home now. I must have more money. I
shall go and see the barber when next I go to Peking, and arrange with
him to give them up to their parents.'
'How do you mean to do it?' asked Ku Nai-nai. 'If the barber goes to the
Ying-Kua-Fu (British Legation) he will certainly be arrested, and then
he is sure to tell about us.'
'Do you think I shall let him go to the Legation?' replied Hung Li,
scornfully. 'No,' he went on; 'I shall write a letter to the foreign
girl's father, asking him to send some one alone with the money to the
Chien Men (centre gate). I will be there to meet the messenger, and the
barber will be outside with the children in some retired place. I shall
take the messenger to see the children, and then he will hand over the
money. The barber can slip away afterwards.'
'Yes,' grunted Ku Nai-nai, 'and what's to prevent the child telling her
father where to find us in Yung Ching?'
'And what if she does?' replied Hung Li. 'No one has seen the children.
The mandarin of this district is my friend, and I can make it all right.
You don't suppose I want to adopt the children? You (turning to An
Ching) would like to keep that pale-faced little foreign imp, I suppose,
but you shan't do it.'
An Ching did not reply, but next day, when Nelly told her that she had
been awake and heard the talking in the next room, she said:
'No one cares for me here, and I am of no use in the world. If I can get
away I shall try to come to you in Peking.'
'Oh, do,' said Nelly, delighted. 'How can it be managed?'
'I don't know. We must think it all out. I am not as stupid as Hung Li
thinks,' replied An Ching. 'If I were sure that your father and mother
would take me as a servant, I'd manage it.'
'I am certain they will when they hear how kind you have been to me,'
said Nelly. 'You shall come as my maid to England; but you can't do
much, can you? You don't know about our ways; but never mind, I'll teach
you. Wouldn't you like to learn some English to begin with?'
And Nelly at once began to give English lessons to An Ching, and Little
Yi sometimes condescended to listen. They had no books, and it was only
by repeating words and short sentences over and over again that anything
could be done. Nelly was much bothered when she was asked the names of
things that do not exist in English, such as the hair ornaments worn by
the Chinese women. She was obliged to invent names for them. For
instance, the embroidered band a Chinese girl wears as soon as she is
old enough not to have her hair shaved in front Nelly called a
'hair-belt,' and the curved, flat ornament sticking out behind An
Ching's head she christened 'head-protector.' Nelly was not quite sure
that it was good English to invent names, but she said to herself, 'The
Chinese call a tea-cosy "a tea-pot's hat" and a sewing machine "an iron
tailor."' Greatly to Nelly's surprise and sorrow, there were times when
she could not remember the names of things in English. She was, in fact,
beginning to forget her own language. One day, when it had taken her a
very long time to remember that 'wa-tzu' meant stockings, she was in
great trouble, until Little Yi reminded her that she had always called
them 'wa-tzu' in Peking. 'I've often heard you say that and lots of
other things in Chinese when you were speaking English,' added Little
Yi, decidedly.
Nelly next set to work to teach An Ching to sing hymns, and succeeded
pretty well, as far as the tune was concerned, with the help of Little
Yi, who, having often listened with all her ears to the singing in the
Legation chapel on Sunday mornings, knew some of the airs quite well. An
Ching and the two children used to go through the round gateway into the
inner court, and while Nelly sang the words very distinctly, An Ching
and Little Yi hummed the tune. 'Art thou weary' was their favourite
hymn.