Tsu-Hi is Astonished
For perhaps one whole minute David Harbor stood perfectly still, once he
had slid down the rope from the window above and had gained the floor of
the room in which he had seen the Tartar under-officer. He leaned
forward, still gripping the cord, listening intently for any sounds
there might be, and fancied as he did so that he could hear the
soft-footed slither of some one in the passage.
'That fellow going along to interview Chang and the deputy-governor.
Going to put in a word for himself,' muttered David. 'In that case he
should be absent sufficiently long to let me take a look round. Let me
see. Dick was in the next cell. Right! I'll make straight away for him.'
He crept across the stone-flagged floor, making direct for the doorway,
and thrust his head round the edge so as to obtain a good view of the
passage. It was empty as far as he could see. Almost directly overhead a
huge paper lantern swung in the breeze, emitting a soft light, and
casting its rays on either side. It was possible, in fact, to see as far
as the end of the passage in one direction, where it evidently turned
abruptly to the left and swept round the other side of the building. In
the opposite direction shadow and gloom obscured the passage, but it
made little difference to our hero.
'Runs along past all the cells into which I have already looked,' he
told himself. 'I don't need to take any notice of it. Now for the one in
which Dick is imprisoned. It ought to be just here on my right. No harm
in searching for him at once. There doesn't seem to be a soul about this
part of the building.'
He stepped into the passage promptly, and crept cautiously towards the
bend where it turned along the other face of the prison. At the very
corner there was a door, and the sight set his heart fluttering. But he
did not venture to touch the bolts before taking the precaution to look
along the gallery after it had turned. He craned his head round the
corner, caught a view of a second elaborately painted lantern swaying
like the first, for if this building lacked many comforts it was at
least well-ventilated. The winds of heaven had free access to the
interior by way of the unglazed windows, and gusts came sweeping down
the gallery, beautifully cooling gusts which set the lanterns swinging
slowly, twisting them upon the plaited ropes by which they were
suspended, till they twirled this way and that, presenting a most
picturesque appearance. But there were other things to remark on. This
second lamp was hung some twenty paces along the gallery, at the foot of
a flight of stone steps, by which, no doubt, the gaoler and the Tartar
soldier had disappeared. David even noticed that the centre of each step
was badly worn, probably with the coming and going of many people,
proving either that the prison was of ancient construction, as was
extremely probable, or that the stone was of a soft nature and readily
worn. But here again was food only for passing interest. A man situated
as he was does not find time for delaying, when his life and that of his
friend are in the balance. The door just behind him had far more
attractions for David, and at once he turned to it, casting his eye over
the strong bolts with which it was secured.
'Done!' he groaned. 'The gaoler has the keys. How on earth am I to
effect an entry?'
Then he suddenly bethought him of the window by which he had made good
his own escape. Why should he not climb outside again, and creeping
along the roof gain entrance to Dick's cell by way of the window? He
turned to retrace his steps, and then stepping swiftly to the door he
examined the lock. A second's inspection proved to him that the bolt was
not shot. It was easy to make sure of that matter, for the huge, clumsy
affair, the work of centuries before perhaps, was placed so far from the
catch into which it should glide that one could see at once that it was
not in order.
'Good! Then there are only the bolts shot by hand. This lock seems to be
out of order.'
Up went his hand to the topmost bolt, and very slowly he drew it out of
its socket, shivering lest the grating which was inevitable with such a
rusty affair should be heard along the passage. Then he suddenly leaped
round the corner of the gallery, for his ears had detected a sound. It
was the slip, slip, slip of a native footstep, the slither of a
cotton-padded sole coming down the flight of stone steps. The
perspiration started to David's forehead, his heart beat against his
ribs as if it were a sledge hammer, while the blows dinned into his ears
till he felt deafened. And his eyes almost bulged from their sockets as
he stared in the direction from which the sounds were coming. For though
only the legs of the oncomer were as yet visible, they were sufficiently
distinctive. The high boots, with their thick, white soles, could belong
only to the Tartar under-officer. The colour of the garment coming into
view was the same as that worn by the soldier, while, as the man's
girdle came within David's vision, he saw the hilt of his sabre, heard
the rattle of the scabbard as it dragged on the steps, and then caught a
glimpse of the revolver which the ruffian carried. Yes, of the revolver,
for if China to-day still lags behind western nations in much which
appertains to learning and commerce and a host of other matters, there
have been outside influences at work giving her subtle advice, and
urging her to arm her soldiery not as before, with swords and lances and
useless bows and arrows, but with modern rifles, with revolvers, and
with the latest cannon. In that particular at least the efforts of some
western nation have been successful. Careless of those of her own colour
who in days to come, days perhaps very close at hand, may find
themselves arrayed against the celestial nation, they have forced a
market here for the surplus output of their arsenals, and have gathered
Chinese gold for modern weapons which may well be employed to slay
their own people. But here was only a single illustration. David had
remarked when entering this walled city of Hatsu upon the modern rifles
of the Tartar-guard. His sharp eyes had detected the weapon carried by
their under-officer. And here it was again, proof positive that the man
who was descending the last few steps was this very individual, than
whom he would have rather encountered any one. What was he to do? Rush
back into the cell and clamber up the dangling rope?
'No,' he told himself promptly, though he retraced his steps at once and
darted into the cell. 'There's no time for that. He'd catch me half-way
up, and besides, even if he didn't I couldn't get the rope hauled out of
sight before he entered. I might slip along the passage, but I should be
no better off, for still he would see the rope. I'll chance a meeting.'
As if it were the old days at school, and he were about to engage in a
tussle with the gloves on, he gripped at the baggy sleeves which were
such a constant nuisance to him, and folded them up near his shoulders,
leaving his arms exposed. Then he stood stiffly upright behind the
half-closed door to listen, holding his breath, trying vainly to still
the beating of his heart. Suddenly as the Tartar's steps were heard
outside the cell, David became as calm as he had ever been in his life
before; for after all, he was by no means different from many men of the
same temperament as himself. To worry before trouble came along, as Dick
was so fond of saying, was only natural to our hero. He was by instinct
cautious and careful, and as is the case with many of similar
disposition, there was always a tendency to fluster and unusual
excitement prior to a struggle. David had been all of a tremble before
now, although he had acquitted himself right well when blows were
actually falling. And the same thing had happened here. Like the man who
enters an action with his knees knocking, and who readily admits that he
is nervous, David had prepared for this inevitable meeting with a
fast-beating heart, with trembling limbs, and with a forehead from which
the moisture was dripping. One who did not know him might almost have
accused him of cowardice. But now that the struggle was about to begin
he was a different individual. His eyes were bright, his mouth fast
closed, and his muscles braced and ready. Not the smallest sound escaped
his attention. He heard the Tartar enter the cell, then saw his fingers
close on the door and caught the creak of the rusting hinges. Then he
stepped forward.
'Silence!' he commanded sternly, placing his back against the door and
pushing it to with a bang. 'Not a word, or I will kill you.'
Utter astonishment was written on the man's face; the soft rays of the
swaying lantern falling on his features showed that he was entirely
taken aback. The corners of his mouth drooped suddenly, his eyes started
forward, while his fingers clutched at his clothing. But it was only for
a moment. An apparently unarmed man stood before him, the youth whom he
had so lately helped to capture. Promptly his hand sought his revolver.
'Dog! It is you, then? You are my prisoner.'
The revolver was more than half out of the girdle by now, and in another
second would be at David's head; but the latter was watching the Tartar
like a cat. His sharp eyes caught every movement, and at once, with a
swift movement, he was on the man. His right arm went back quickly, and
then jerked out like a flash, the fist striking the Tartar hard and full
between the eyes. The result of this telling blow, so far as the Chinese
rascal was concerned, was disastrous. He was knocked clear from his
feet, for the youth who had struck was no chicken. David had weight and
strength behind his arm, and, moreover, a desperate man finds added
strength on such occasions. The blow, in fact, tossed the Tartar
backward, causing him to perform a half sommersault, and to come to the
ground with an alarming crash, his head being the first portion of his
anatomy to come in contact with the stone flagging. And in a second
David was on him, gripping him by the neck.
[Illustration: "IN A SECOND DAVID WAS ON HIM"]
'Silence! Not a word,' he repeated, while his hand went to the man's
revolver and drew it from his girdle. But the Tartar did not wince when
the cold muzzle was thrust in his ear. He lay inert, his eyes closed, as
listless as a sleeping baby.
'Stunned! Knocked out of time. Not used to an Englishman's fist,' gasped
David. 'Let's make quite sure that he isn't foxing.'
He leaned over the man, and placed his ear close to his mouth. Yes, he
was breathing--breathing loudly. In fact there was considerable stertor.
David lifted a limp arm, and when he released it it fell back with a
hollow thud to the ground. He tilted back the eyelids, and though he had
but little knowledge of such matters, he could not help but remark that
the pupils were equally dilated. There was little doubt, in fact, that
the unfortunate but scheming and pugnacious Tartar was stunned by the
terrific blow which he had received. It was altogether a revelation to
the young fellow crouching beside him. He kneeled close by the man,
staring into his face and wondering. He could hardly believe that a
moment before he had been face to face with extreme danger and
difficulty, and that one sudden movement on his part, one strong blow,
had set aside the trouble.
'But has it? There are other people in the prison who will have to be
dealt with. There is Chang; there is Tsu-Hi, the dishonest
deputy-governor who has so far forgotten himself, and the honour to
which all decent-minded Chinamen cling in their belief that, come what
may, hospitality to a guest should never be abused. Yes, there is
Tsu-Hi, who has shown the utmost treachery.'
David told himself sternly that they must be dealt with. He stood up,
still with his eyes on the fallen Tartar. But he was not thinking of his
late enemy; he was thinking of the arch-schemer hired by the man in
England who should have been as a father to our hero. He was thinking
also of the difficulties still before him, of the opposition still to be
set aside before he and Dick and Jong could set foot outside the city.
Then his face became sterner than ever; the eyes were half-closed as he
stared at the Tartar. The scheme which he had first happened on when
clambering along the ledge of the windows came back to his mind with
redoubled force.
'Yes,' he said, 'they must be dealt with, those two men. First to
release Dick, and then we'll talk to them.'
But even now he did not venture out of the cell. He pulled the door open
quietly and peeped round into the passage, to find it deserted. There
was not so much as a sound, save the gentle rattle of the stiffened
paper streamers attached to the lantern swaying overhead.
'No one about. Goaler gone to bed, and the rest of them upstairs where I
saw them with the Tartar fellow who is lying stunned in here. But
supposing some one were to come along, I should be spotted in a minute.
I must have some disguise, I----'
His eyes swung round to the figure stretched on the floor, and for a
little while he stared at the fallen under-officer. A keen light came
into his eyes, and once more he closed the door of the compartment.
Then, swiftly and full of his purpose, he stripped the man of his
clothing.
'Just about my size,' he told himself. 'Anyway, I've got to get into his
things, whatever happens. Wish there was a glass here; but, as there
isn't, I must make the most of it. Ah, boots fit to a T. Cap ditto. This
big cloak fits only where it touches, so that don't matter. Now for the
gentleman himself. Won't he have a headache in the morning!'
Quickly he pulled off his own garments, coiled his pigtail up on top of
his head, and jammed the Tartar's cap on top of it. Then, having donned
all his garments, which were voluminous, to say the least of them, he
tied the frayed, silken girdle round his middle, attached the clanking
sabre, and pushed the revolver home. When he stood up he was by no means
a bad copy of the truculent individual who had first greeted him at the
entrance of the city.
'And now to get rid of him and my own clothes. Ah! I know. Into the bed
with him. Shy the clothing out of the window.'
He was not the one to waste time when the minutes were flying swiftly,
and when there might be an interruption at any moment. David bundled the
unconscious Tartar on to the _kang_, covered him with a faded quilt, and
tied his own discarded clothing into a bundle. A dexterous heave sent it
through the window, and if only he had known it, caused the faithful
Jong the greatest consternation.
'What dat?' he asked, standing back in the dense shadow which hid him.
'Something come plump from de window. Not likee de look of him at allee,
not at allee. Heart go plippee-plappee when ting like dat happen.
Suppose I go over and have a look.'
He was in the very act of stepping out on to the white highway, which
gleamed in the pure rays of the moon, when his sharp ears caught a
sound. Some one was treading the narrow path which ran beside the road;
some one was approaching. Jong lay flat in the shadow, hugging the wall,
and stared out into the open. Presently a man's figure hove in sight--a
man dressed in elaborate military costume, his flowing robes blowing
about his feet, the flat cap on his head surmounted by a wide button.
Nor did it want two glances at the stranger to disclose the fact that
this was Tsu-Hi, the deputy-governor of the walled city of Hatsu, an
official with absolute powers for the moment of life and death; one who,
discovering Jong where he lay, could, with one single nod, condemn him
to instant execution. No wonder, therefore, that the Chinaman shivered,
and squeezed his body still further into the shadow, wishing that the
ground might rise in a friendly manner and cover him. He scarcely dared
to breathe, while, so terrified was he, that his teeth almost chattered
together. Then, quite by accident, his hand touched the hilt of the
knife he carried in his belt. The sudden contact seemed to bring him
courage. Jong gripped the weapon and drew it, his eyes fixed all the
while on the figure of Tsu-Hi.
'He is alone; he is the cause of all this trouble,' he whispered. 'Let
him show that he has seen me and I will send him to join his ancestors;
yes, to join them with treachery in his heart.'
But the official made no sign. He came stepping down the path slowly, as
if deeply engaged with his thoughts. His hands were tucked into the
baggy sleeves he wore, while his eyes were dropped on to the roadway. He
passed the spot where Jong was secreted, advanced slowly to the steps
which led to the door of the prison, and lifted a hand to summon those
within. Jong heard the clang of a gong somewhere in the distance. And
David heard it. He was at that very moment about to slide back the last
of the two bolts that secured the door of the cell in which he imagined
Dick to be when the deep, musical note of the gong sounded down the
passage, coming from a spot somewhere above, at the top of the flight of
steps down which he had watched the Tartar descending. And then he heard
a sharp rapping in the opposite direction.
'A visitor; perhaps Tsu-Hi,' he thought. 'What's to be done now? Who'll
admit him?'
For one instant the mad idea occurred to him that he himself would go to
the door and let the deputy-governor in.
'I could overawe him at once, and bring him in here,' he told himself.
Then he shook his head emphatically. 'Might spoil everything. I want
help before I move any further; I must have Dick beside me.'
Clang! The gong sounded again, the note ringing down the passage, and
then there was silence. No one answered the summons; there was not so
much as a step to be heard. David reflected that the gaoler was in bed,
and fast asleep in all probability.
'While the fellow outside will be getting impatient, he'll make more and
more noise, and we shall be having some of the Tartar soldiers. That
won't suit my plans. There! he's hammering. I'll do it; I'll chance the
whole thing. In for a penny in for a pound, isn't a bad motto on some
occasions.'
He made up his mind in an instant, and pulled the door open. Listening
for a few seconds, and hearing no sound from the interior of the prison,
he hurried along to the left, where he guessed the door must be. And at
the far end of the gallery, where the shadows lurked, he came upon it,
and stood for a while listening to the rat-a-tat-tat of the impatient
official outside.
'Open!' he heard the man call, angrily. 'Open for Tsu-Hi. Do not keep me
waiting out here where folks may see me.'
David pulled the bolts back swiftly, and tugging at the door dragged it
open, keeping himself well within the passage.
'Dog! Why do you keep me so? Sleeping, eh? Sleeping when you should be
on duty? Have a care. Though the governor is away from the city on
important business, there are yet powers in the hands of his deputy
which may make a servant sorrow. A head has been chopped for an offence
even less than this.'
If he had expected an answer Tsu-Hi was disappointed, for David still
held himself in the background, kow-towing as he judged the gaoler would
do, and saying not a word.
'Mustn't open my mouth or he'll see that I'm not a Chinaman, nor even
the Tartar officer. If he don't move in precious quick I'll take him by
the neck and drag him into the passage.'
Our hero's teeth were set fast together, while he was fully ready for
any emergency. Now that matters had gone so far favourably for him, he
was determined that this treacherous deputy-governor should not
overthrow all his plans. That it was Tsu-Hi a swift glance had told him
without error. His hands itched to get a grip of the ruffian, and
silence him, but still he bent low, kow-towing humbly; and perhaps it
was his silence and his apparent humility which appeased the governor.
He stepped into the passage and waited there, his hands tucked out of
sight again, while David pushed the door, and shot the bolts home.
'Now lead me to the room occupied by this Chang, who came so
unexpectedly to the city.'
To say that David was in a serious dilemma was hardly to describe the
situation correctly. He was desperate, for he judged that Tsu-Hi must
have some knowledge of the prison, and was it likely that he would
expect to discover Chang, a man considered already to be of some
importance, in a cell abutting on this dreary passage? Surely there must
be guest chambers, guest apartments for the few who came to such a place
as a prison for any other reason than to fill the cells?
'Can't help it if there are,' muttered David. 'He's got to come with me,
and if he thinks that the place in which I found the Tartar fellow is
not good enough, well I can't help it. I'll give him a crack that'll
knock the wind out of his body.'
He lifted the scabbard of his sabre, fearful that its clanking might
arouse the suspicion of his visitor, and then stepped in front of him
down the passage. At the open door of the room he had just vacated he
came to a halt, kow-towing in that direction.
'In here! Why, fool, this is not a guest chamber.'
'In here, Excellency,' David murmured. 'He wished to be near his
prisoners.'
Would the governor detect the broken accent? Did he already suspect
that his companion was other than he imagined? For Tsu-Hi stood still
regarding the man who had admitted him. Something about the accent
undoubtedly attracted his attention. But he was thinking more of Chang
than of anything or any one else, Chang and the foreign devils whom
they, between them, had so cleverly captured. Then he put back his head
and laughed, an almost silent laugh, in which there was a ring of
triumph.
'He, he, he! So as to be near his prisoners,' he gurgled, opening a wide
mouth between the thin lips of which an uneven and irregular row of
yellow fangs were displayed. 'To be near his prisoners, as if he would
take a tender farewell of them and see as much of their faces as
possible before their hour comes. He, he, he! This Chang is a witty
fellow.'
'What an old ruffian!' thought David, still, however, kow-towing.
'Little tenderness we may expect from him, or from Chang either. In a
moment I'll make him laugh on the other side of his ugly mouth. Here,
Excellency,' he murmured once more, pushing the door a little wider
open. 'Enter.'
The gorgeously dressed official was still shaking with suppressed
amusement as he passed under the doorway. His hands were buried in his
sleeves, and he was actually hugging himself.
'A right merry fellow, this Chang! Who is he? Whence does he come with
such a timely warning? He will be an excellent fellow with whom to chat
and pass a few hours while others are sleeping. And then, when this
thing is finished, he will go. The Government will send urgent orders
for his arrest, while I shall have already despatched men to search for
him, men who are led by a blind officer unable to find the right track.'
It made him hug himself the harder when he considered how cunning he
was, and how he would hoodwink every one; for the deputy-governor was a
cunning rascal. Still smarting under the severe reproof he had had
administered on a former occasion when Europeans were molested in this
walled city of Hatsu, and by the loss of dignity which had resulted, the
man, like thousands more of his countrymen, bore a lasting grudge
against foreign devils. He was one of the many jacks-in-office who still
help to sway the affairs of the celestial empire, clinging tenaciously
and with great stubbornness to old methods, for a Chinaman is nothing if
not conservative. The views his ancestors held are good enough for him,
their education fills his needs, while the ancient system whereby a few
live in luxury, and the vast majority in grinding poverty is a model of
all that is required. Some there are, and their numbers are steadily
increasing, who have gained much by contact with the outside world, for
whom travel has relieved them of much arrogance. But the knowledge they
possess of the superiority of western nations in many things is lost in
the sea of ignorance, of bigotry, which is prevalent throughout the
kingdom. One swallow does not make a summer. One enlightened mandarin
does not result in the rising of a mighty nation, in the break-up of all
its cherished customs, in its advancement in the paths followed by
others privileged to live under wiser government.
'To-morrow this Chang shall go. I myself will direct him, and also those
who shall set out in pursuit in the opposite direction. Greeting, my
friend.'
Tsu-Hi stalked majestically into the room and stood beneath the swaying
lantern, his eyes blinking in the light as he searched for the man he
had come to visit. He had half-expected him to be there before him,
kow-towing to the ground, for this jack-in-office loved humility in
those who served him. Then he caught sight of the figure huddled beneath
the patched and stained quilt spread over the _kang_, and chuckled
loudly.
'He sleeps, worn out with his efforts to warn us, but he will welcome
the deputy-governor. I will rouse him.'
He stepped across to the kang, and touched the figure lying there. He
pulled the quilt back with a sharp jerk, disclosing the face of the
Tartar under-officer. But even then he did not realise that this was not
Chang, the man whom the Tartar had brought so secretly to him that
evening. It was only when, hearing the door bang, and turning slowly he
discovered the figure of the Tartar who had admitted him advancing
swiftly that Tsu-Hi became alarmed.
'Insolence!' he cried. 'What is this? Who bade you follow in here?
Begone at once, else----'
Even then he had not penetrated the disguise of the youth before him,
though his alarm increased seeing that David did not halt, but came on
towards him. But, of a sudden, he grasped the real truth, for a revolver
already grinned within two feet of him. He started backward against the
_kang_ and fell upon it A second later he was up again, and running
towards the door like a startled rabbit, but David stopped him in a
manner to which this very important official must have been a stranger
since his earliest boyhood. He gripped Tsu-Hi by the shoulder, and with
a heave tossed him heavily into the corner. Then he dragged him to his
feet again, and pressed the muzzle of his weapon hard against his head.
'Silence! Make a sound and you are a dead man. Strip off your garments.'
How Jong would have giggled had he been able to see what was passing,
for he would have enjoyed to the full the terror of this mandarin.
Tsu-Hi's eyes indeed threatened to start from his head, while he shook
so violently that his limbs would hardly support him. But the revolver
gave him some sort of strength, that and the threatening looks of this
hated foreign devil. Rapidly, as if he longed to be rid of them, he
dragged off his gorgeous garment.
'Boots, too,' commanded David fiercely. 'Now lie down on that _kang_.
You can push the man farther over. Not a sound, mind, or I'll rid this
city of a deputy-governor.'
Little more than ten minutes later David emerged from the cell, leaving
Tsu-Hi trussed like a fowl, bound hand and foot with strips torn from
the quilt, and nicely muzzled with a ball of the same wedged between his
teeth and secured in position. He pulled the door to, shot the bolts
home, and strode along the passage.