The Siberian Railway from Mao-shan to Han-ta-ho-tzue

*CHAPTER I*

*Ivan Ivanovitch Brown*

Scenes in Moukden--Beyond the Walls--Lieutenant Borisoff--The

Cangue--Anton Sowinski--Criminal Procedure--Mr. Brown

Senior--Schlagintwert's Representative--The Automatic Principle

The midsummer sun had spent its force, and as it reddened towards its

setting Moukden began to breathe again. The gildings on palace, temple,

and pagoda shone with a ruddy glow, but the eye was no longer dazzled;

garish in full sunlight, the city was now merely brilliant, the reds and

greens, blues and yellows, of its house-fronts toned to a rich and

charming beauty. The shops--almost every house is a shop--were open,

displaying here poultry, dried fish, and articles of common use; there

piles of Oriental merchandise: silks and embroideries, parasols and

screens, ornaments of silver and copper, priceless porcelain and

lacquered ware. Monsters with vermilioned faces grinned from the

poles--hung with branches and surmounted by peacocks with spread

tail--that bore the signs and legends of the merchants and shopkeepers

before whose doors they were erected: all different, yet all alike in

gorgeousness of colouring and fantasy of design.

Two main thoroughfares traverse Moukden at right angles. Along these

flowed in each direction a full tide of people, gathering up cross

currents at every side street and alley. It was a picturesque throng,

the light costumes showing in brilliant relief against the darker

colours of the houses and the brown dust of the roadway. There were

folk of many nations: Manchus, Mongols, Tartars, Greeks and

Montenegrins, soldiers Chinese and Russian, here and there a European

war-correspondent escaping from the boredom of his inn. Pedestrians and

horsemen jostled vehicles of all descriptions. Workmen staggered along

under enormous loads; labourers of both sexes trudged homewards from the

fields, their implements on their shoulders. A drove of fat pigs in

charge of a blue-coated swineherd scampered and squealed beneath the

wheels of a Russian transport wagon. Here was a rickshaw drawn with

shrill cries by its human steeds; there a rough springless two-wheeled

mule-cart, painted in yellow ochre, hauled by three mules tandem, and

jolting over the ruts with its load of passengers, some on the backs of

the mules, some on the shafts, some packed beneath the low tilt of blue

cotton. Not far behind, a trolley, pushed by perspiring coolies and

carrying seven men standing in unstable equilibrium, had halted to make

way for a magnificent blue sedan chair, wadded with fur and silk, borne

by four stalwart servants. Through the trellised window of the chair

the curious might catch a glimpse of a bespectacled mandarin, his

mushroom hat decked with the button indicative of his rank. With shouts

and blows a detachment of Chinese soldiers, red-jacketed infantry,

carrying halberts, javelins, and sickles swathed to poles, forced a

passage for his excellency through the crowd.

The heavy air quivered with noise: the mingled cries of street merchants

and children, the clatter of hoofs, the din of gongs at the doors of the

theatres, weird strains of song accompanied by the twanging of

inharmonious guitars, and, dominating all, the insistent strident squeak

of a huge wheelbarrow, trundled by a grave old Chinaman, unconscious of

the pain his greaseless wheels inflicted on untutored sensibilities. A

Russian lady passing in a droshky grimaced and put her fingers to her

ears, and a wayfarer near her smiled and addressed a word to the

torturer, who looked at him aslant out of his little eyes and went on

his way placid and unabashed.

The pedestrian who had spoken was one by himself in all that vast

throng. That he was European was shown by his garments; a western

observer, however little travelled, would have known him at a glance as

an English lad. His garb was light, fitting a slim, tall figure; a

broad-brimmed cotton hat was slanted over his nose to keep the glowing

rays from his eyes; he walked with the springy tread and free swinging

gait never acquired by an Oriental. He wormed his way through the

jostling crowd, passed through the bastioned gate of the lofty inner

ramparts, crossed the suburbs, where the gardens were in gorgeous bloom,

and, leaving the external wall of mud behind him, came into the brown,

rough, dusty road, lined on both sides with booths, leading to the

railway-station. Rich fields of maize and beans and millet covered the

vast plain beyond, and upon the sky-line lay a range of wooded hills.

By and by the walker came to the new street that had sprung up beside

the railway-station since the Russian occupation: a settlement tenanted

by traders--Greek, Caucasian, and Hebrew--dealing in every product of

the two civilizations, eastern and western, here so incongruously in

contact. Nothing that could be sold or bartered came amiss to these

polyglot traders; they kept everything from champagne to sake (the rice

beer of Japan), from boots to smoked fish. Hurrying through this oven

of odours, he passed the line of ugly brick cottages run up for the

Russian officials, and arrived at the station. It was quiet at the

moment; there was a pause in the stream of traffic which had for some

time been steadily flowing southward. Save for the railway servants, the

riflemen who guard the line, and a few officers desperately bored in

their effort to kill time, the platform was deserted. The Russian

lieutenant on duty accosted the new-comer.

"Well, Ivan Ivanovitch, what can we do for you to-day?"

"The same old thing," replied the lad slowly in Russian. "Can you send a

wire to Vladivostok for my father?"

"Very sorry; it is impossible to-day as it was yesterday. None but

military messages are going through."

"Well, I just came up on the chance."

"When are you leaving? We shall miss you."

"Thanks! In a few days, I hope. Father has just about settled up

everything. In fact, that consignment of flour is the only thing left

to trouble about now. I hope it will get through safely, but the

Japanese appear to be scouting the seas pretty thoroughly. As soon as

we hear from our agent at Vladivostok we shall be off."

"Come and have a glass of tea in the buffet. It may be the last time."

Jack Brown--known to his Russian friends as Ivan Ivanovitch, "John the

son of John"--accepted the invitation. After a chat and a glass of tea

from the large steaming samovar, always a conspicuous object in a

Russian buffet, he left the station as the dusk was falling and a haze

spread over the ground, covering up the many unlovely evidences of the

Russian occupation. For variety's sake he changed his course and took a

path to the left that skirted the native graveyard, intending to enter

the city by one of the northern gates. A line of heavy native carts,

with their long teams of mules and ponies, was slowly wending

northwards; women, their hair decorated with flowers, were taking their

children for an airing before the sun set and the gates were closed; a

beggar stood by the roadside cleverly imitating a bird's cry by blowing

through a curled-up leaf. Jack came to the great mandarin road and

turned towards the city; such evening scenes were now a matter of course

to him. But he was still at some distance from the outer wall when he

came upon a sight which, common as it was in Moukden, he never beheld

without pity and indignation. A big muscular Chinaman of some thirty to

forty years was seated on the ground, his neck locked in the square

wooden collar known as the cangue, an oriental variant of the old

English pillory. So devised that the head and the upper part of the

body are held rigid, the cangue as an instrument of punishment is worthy

of Chinese ingenuity. The victim, as Jack knew, must have sat

throughout the long sweltering day tortured by innumerable insects which

his fixed hands were powerless to beat off. At nightfall a constable

would come and release him, conveying him to the gaol attached to a

yamen within the city, where he would be locked up until the morning.

Then the cangue would be replaced and the criminal taken back to the

same spot on the wayside.

Jack hurried his step as he approached, eager to leave the unpleasant

sight behind him. But on drawing nearer he was surprised to find that

he knew the man,--surprised, because he was one of the last who could

have been expected to fall into such a plight. The recognition was

mutual; and as Jack came up, the parched lips of the victim uttered a

woeful exclamation of greeting.

"How came you here, Mr. Wang?" asked Jack in Chinese.

The crime was indicated on the upper board of the cangue, but Jack,

though he had more than a smattering of colloquial Chinese, knew almost

nothing of the written language. The poor wretch could hardly

articulate; but with difficulty he at length managed, in the short

high-pitched monosyllables of his native tongue, to explain. He had been

accused of fraud; the charge was totally without foundation; but at the

trial before the magistrates witness after witness had appeared against

him: it is easy to suborn evidence in a Chinese court: and he had been

condemned to the cangue, a first step in the system of torture by which

a prisoner, innocent or guilty, is forced to confess.

To one who knew the Chinese as Jack did, there was nothing surprising in

this explanation, except the fact that Wang Shih was the victim. He was

a respectable man, the son of an old farmer some fifteen miles east of

Moukden, and practically the owner of the farm, his father being past

work. Hard-working and honest, he was the last man to be suspected of

trickery or base dealing. Mr. Brown had done much business with him, and

only recently had had a proof of his good faith. The Chinaman had

contracted to supply him with a large quantity of fodder. A few days

before the date of delivery he had been visited by a business rival of

Mr. Brown's, a Pole, who had come to Moukden some four or five years

before, and from small beginnings had worked up a considerable business.

Almost from the first he had come into competition with Mr. Brown. The

methods of the two men were diametrically opposed,--the Pole relying on

bribery, the corruption of the official class with which he had to deal;

the Englishman sternly resolute to lend himself to no transaction in

Manchuria of which he would be ashamed at home. Anton Sowinski, as the

Pole was called, offered Wang Shih the strongest inducements to break

his contract with Mr. Brown; but finding his native honesty proof

against temptation, he had lost his temper, abused him, and finally

struck him with his whip. The Chinaman was a peaceable fellow; but

beneath his stolidity slumbered the fierce temper of his race. Under

the Pole's provocation and assault his self-restraint gave way. He

seized Sowinski with the grip of a giant, rapped his head soundly

against the fence, and then threw him bodily into the road. The

contract with Mr. Brown had been duly fulfilled; and it was, to say the

least, unlikely that a man who had thus kept faith to his own

disadvantage should have descended to vulgar fraud.

"Who was your accuser?" asked Jack.

"Loo Sen."

"He's a neighbour of yours, isn't he?"

"Yes, and has long borne us ill-will. But it was not he really. As I

left the yamen where I was tried, a friend whispered me that Loo Sen was

in the pay of Sowinski."

"Ah! that throws a light on it. Sowinski is having his revenge. It is

a bad business, Mr. Wang."

Jack knew the ways of Moukden magistrates too well to hope that the

conviction and sentence could be quashed. On the contrary, if the cangue

proved ineffectual in extorting a confession, there were various grades

of torture that could be applied in turn. But prisoners often escaped;

their friends, it is true, afterwards suffered. Wang Shih was so big

and strong that he might easily have overpowered his gaoler some night

when the cangue was removed; it was, perhaps, only consideration for his

family that had restrained him. Jack questioned him on this point.

"Yes. That is the reason. The constable--wah! I could kill him

easily; but what then? I could not remain in Moukden; I am too well

known. And my father would not be safe. They would behead him, and rob

my family of all they possess."

"Yes, I understand. I wish I could do something for you; but I see no

way. My father might have done something at one time--possibly through

the Russians, although they are unwilling to mix themselves up in

Chinese quarrels; but in any case his influence is gone since the war

began."

"You can do one thing for me, sir, if you will; that is, send a message

to my father. Tell him to gather all his things together and leave the

district. I will never confess to a crime which I did not commit, and

there will be time for him, before I am beheaded, to get away."

"I will do that. I would do anything I could to help you, but----"

"Here comes the constable, sir."

Jack looked along the road and saw, slouching up, a typical specimen of

the Chinese constable. In China the constable is universally and

deservedly detested. Sheltered by the mandarins of the yamen, he preys

upon the rich and oppresses the poor. The prisoner in his keeping is

starved, beaten, tortured until he yields his last copper cash; if he

escapes, the constable pounces upon his unhappy relatives, and their

fate is the same. This man scowled fiercely upon Jack, and the latter,

seeing that no good could come of remaining longer, spoke a final word

of sympathy to Wang Shih, and went on amid the thinning stream of people

to the city.

"Well, Jack," said his father, as the lad entered the neat one-story

house which served both as dwelling and office; "any news?"

"None, Father. The wires are still monopolized."

"That's a nuisance. You'll have to pack off to Vladivostok yourself,

I'm afraid. Ten chances to one, Captain Fraser will not get through

safely; still, one can never tell. I heard a rumour to-day that the

Russian fleet has made a raid from Vladivostok; and if it keeps the

Japanese employed, Fraser may make a safe run. You've been a long

time."

"Yes. I had a chat with Lieutenant Borisoff; but I was detained on the

way back. What do you think? Sowinski has got Loo Sen to bring a charge

against Wang Shih, and the poor fellow is in the cangue."

"Whew! That's bad. It means decapitation in the end."

"I suppose you can do nothing for him?"

"Nothing, I fear. I'm sorry for the poor chap, especially as I'm afraid

it's partly through his holding to his bargain with me. But I've no

influence now, and even if I had, it would be useless to interfere in a

purely Chinese matter. We could never prove that Sowinski had a hand in

it."

Mr. Brown reflected for some moments, Jack studying his features.

"No," he said at last, "there's absolutely nothing we can do. This only

proves that I am right in winding things up and cutting sticks. That

fellow Sowinski is a blackguard; if I stayed here he'd find some means

of doing me an injury next."

"But, Father, the Chinese are good friends of ours, and you've never

been on bad terms with the Russians."

"Not till lately, it is true. But this war has brought a new set of men

here, and you know perfectly well that I've offended some of them;

General Bekovitch, for one, has a grudge against me. They don't

understand a man who won't bribe or be bribed; I really think they

believe there must be something fishy about him! However, we'll be off

as soon as you get back from Vladivostok, and leave the field to

Sowinski. I wish the Russians joy of him."

"When shall I go to Vladivostok?"

"The day after to-morrow; that gives Orloff another chance. And I've

several little things still to settle up. By the way, here's a queer

letter I got just now; it was brought by a Chinese runner from

Newchang."

He handed the letter to Jack, who read:

"Respected Sir,--The undersigned does himself the honour to introduce

himself to your esteemed notice, as per instructions received per

American Cable Company from my principals, Messrs. Schlagintwert Co. of

Duesseldorf, namely, 'Apply assistance Brown of Moukden'. I presume

from aforesaid cable my Co. may already have had relations with your

esteemed Firma. My arrival in Moukden may be expected within a few days

of receipt. Believe me, with high esteem and compliments,

"Your obedient servant,

"HlLDEBRAND SCHWAB.

_"Postscriptum_.--Also representative of the _Illustrirte Vaterland u.

Colonien_."

"Tear it up, Jack. No doubt we shall be away when he comes."

"Who are Schlagintwert, Father?"

"You remember those automatic couplings we tried on the Harbin section

three or four years ago----"

"The ones that took two men to fasten and four to release?" said Jack,

laughing.

"Exactly. Well, they were Schlagintwert's."

At this moment the clang of a gong, followed by the thud of a drum,

sounded through the streets.

"They're closing the gates," said Jack. "I think I'll go to bed,

Father; I'm pretty tired."

"Good-night, then! I shan't be long after you. I've a little more

writing to do. Send Hi Lo in with some lemonade."

*CHAPTER II*

*Mr. Wang and a Constable*

The Flowing Tide--Backsheesh--At the Window--Hu Hang--Quis

Custodiet?--Mr. Wang's Grip

Mr. Brown, like many another active and enterprising Englishman, had

left home as a young man and done business in many parts of the globe.

He was a struggling merchant in Shanghai when Jack, his elder son, was

born. Nine years later he seized a promising opening in Vladivostok,

and removed thither with his family, now increased by another boy and a

girl. When Jack was eleven he was sent to school in England, being

shortly afterwards followed home by his mother, sister, and brother.

Then, at the age of fifteen, he was recalled by his father, who wished

for his assistance in a new business he was starting in Moukden. Jack

was nothing loth; he had a great admiration for his father, and an

adventurous spirit of his own. He had done fairly well at school; never

a "swot", still less a "smug", he had carried off a prize or two for

modern languages, and counted a prize bat and a silver cup among his

trophies. Everybody liked him; he always "played the game".

Mr. Brown had at first prospered exceedingly in Moukden. His business

had been originally that of a produce broker; but when the Russians

extended their railway and began to develop Port Arthur, he added branch

after branch, and soon had many irons in the fire. He supplied the

Russian authorities with innumerable things, from corn to building

stones; he had large contracts with them in connection with their great

engineering feat, the construction of the Trans-Siberian Railway, and in

this part of his business Jack had taken a special interest, picking up

thus a considerable knowledge of railway plant, locomotives, and other

details. Being a man of absolute integrity, respected and trusted by

the natives, Mr. Brown before long won the confidence of the officials

with whom he came in contact. But he was a shrewd student of affairs as

well as a man of business. He had foreseen the outbreak of war, and

viewed with amazement the careless assurance of the Russian attitude

towards the "yellow monkeys", deemed so insignificant. Making many

friends among the Russians, he saw much to admire in them: their

kindliness and abounding hospitality, their perseverance in face of

obstacles, their vital faith in their country's destiny. With the

Japanese his personal relations had not been so intimate; but he had

watched their progress from afar with the keenness of a clear-eyed

observer, and he knew that when the trial came, the Russians would find

the little men of Nippon no mean foes.

Events proved the accuracy of his forecast. The Russian fleet was

bottled up, the Yalu crossed, Port Arthur was already beleaguered, and

Stackelberg's attempt to relieve it had failed. Mr. Brown talked with

some of the wounded who had been sent back from the Yalu to Moukden, and

were now in hospital in a Buddhist monastery near the outer wall. They

were not downcast: they spoke of being outnumbered and unprepared; when

General Kuropatkin's army was complete the tide would turn, and then----

But he got them to talk of their actual experiences in battle. Some of

them had been within arm's-length of their enemies in a bayonet charge;

and what he learnt of the eager joy, the buoyant audacity, displayed by

the Japanese, strengthened his belief that, given equal generalship,

equal numbers, equal equipment, such a spirit could scarcely be matched,

and was bound to lead them to victory.

Prudent but not alarmist, Mr. Brown considered how the war would affect

him. The Japanese were pressing northward; should Port Arthur fall, the

besieging army would be able to strengthen Marshal Oyama's forces in the

field. If the Russians were compelled to withdraw from Manchuria, Mr.

Brown could hardly hope to save his business, and it behoved him to set

his house in order. Another consideration weighed with him. The

development of the railway and the imminence of war had brought new men

on the scene. The Russian officers whom he knew so well were withdrawn,

and replaced by men of another stamp--men who were not all so

clean-handed as their predecessors. He soon became aware that he was

expected to grease their palms, and his uncompromising resistance to

corruption in every shape and form made him disliked. Several contracts

were given over his head; he found that in many cases the new-comer,

Sowinski, of whose antecedents nothing was known, was favoured at his

expense; and it was clear that these circumstances, together with the

general Russian distrust of England and all things English, boded ill

for his business. He was turned fifty years of age, and had amassed a

comfortable fortune. It appeared the part of discretion to wind up his

affairs before it was too late, and return to England, where a man of

his wealth and energy might find occupation for his maturer years. When

he had once made up his mind, Mr. Brown wasted no time. He proceeded to

put his design into effect, and now expected in a few days to leave

Moukden for home.

It was past midnight before he had finished sorting his papers. That

done, he smoked a final cigarette at the door, then shot the bolt,

turned out the lamp, and went to bed in the room next to Jack's.

Jack had found it somewhat difficult to get to sleep. He could not put

Wang Shih's plight from his thoughts. He had seen something of Chinese

methods; there came before his mind the vision of a poor wretch he had

once met on his way to execution, emaciated to a skeleton, one of his

legs blackened and withered, almost fleshless, and wanting its foot,

which had dropped off as the result of his being chained by the ankle to

a ring in his prison wall. Such evidence of inhumanity was horrible; it

made him shudder to think of Wang Shih, so good a fellow, so fine a

specimen of manhood, suffering and dying thus. And he admired the

Chinaman's fortitude, his loyalty to his family, his refusal to avail

himself of means of escape lest his people should suffer. Could not

something even yet be done for him? Jack did not wish to complicate

matters; but, after all, they were on the eve of departure, and he knew

his father well enough to be sure that he would not refuse to lend a

helping hand if required. But puzzle as he might, he could see no way

of saving both Wang Shih and his family, and the problem was still

unsolved when he at length fell into a troubled sleep.

Suddenly he awoke. The night was very close, and at the first moment he

thought his waking was due to the heat. But then he heard a slight

scratching at his left. He raised himself on his elbow to listen; he had

never seen or heard mice in the house. The scratching continued; it was

very close at hand. Surely at that time of night it could not be anyone

scratching at the paper window? He got out of bed; it was too dark to

see anything; he put his ear against the thin paper. The noise was

certainly caused by the moving of a finger-nail.

"Who is there?" he asked softly in Chinese.

"Wang Shih, sir."

"Mr. Wang! You've escaped, then. All right! I'll come to the door."

On the way he went into his father's room, and touched him on the elbow.

"Hey! Who's that? What's the matter, Jack?"

"Wang Shih is outside, Father."

"By Jove! What does he want?"

"I don't know. He has evidently escaped."

"Send him about his business. I can't be mixed up in this sort of

thing."

"You might see him, Father. He wouldn't have come unless he saw some

way of getting off without harming anyone."

"Well, well! Light the lamp, and let him in. I'll slip on my

dressing-gown and follow you."

Jack went to the door, opened it, and was confronted, not by one big

form, as he expected, but by two.

"Who is with you, Mr. Wang?"

"Mr. Hu."

"Who is Mr. Hu? Come inside both of you, and let me lock the door."

The two Chinamen entered, blinking in the light of the little oil lamp

Jack had lit.

"Now, Mr. Wang, explain. Who is Mr. Hu?"

"He is Hu Hang, the constable, sir."

"The constable!" exclaimed Jack, now recognizing the low brow and shifty

eyes.

"Yes; I had to bring him."

"What's this, what's this?" said Mr. Brown, coming from his bedroom.

"What you two piecee man makee this-side?"

Like almost all English merchants, he had found Chinese too much for

him, and in his intercourse with the natives made use of pidgin English,

the lingua franca of the Chinese coast.

There was a world of humility and apology in Wang Shih's kowtow.

"My lun wailo," he said. "My no wantchee catchee killum. Muchee

bobbely yamen-side. Allo piecee fightey-man bimeby look-see Wang Shih;

no can wailo outside that-time."

His exceptional size was certainly against him. It was clear that

without some disguise the man could not hope to escape from the city.

"Yes, that's all very well," said Mr. Brown reflectively. Then turning

suddenly to the second man: "But what this piecee man makee this-side?"

"He Hu Hang; muchee bad policeyman, galaw!"

"Policeyman! Yes, but what-for policeyman he come this-side too?"

"Hu Hang he my policeyman. He watchee my. My hittee Hu Hang velly

muchee plenty hard, hai-yah! Hu Hang plenty silly top-side; my tinkee

lun wailo chop-chop. 'Stoppee, stoppee!' say Hu Hang; 'what-for you

makee leavee my this-side?' Ch'hoy! My tinkee Hu Hang belongey muchee

leason. Hu Hang lun wailo all-same."

Mr. Brown still looked puzzled.

"Don't you see, Father," broke in Jack, "Mr. Wang couldn't leave the

poor wretch to bear the brunt of his escape. They would have cut his

head off as sure as a gun."

"Not much loss to his fellow-citizens, by the look of him," said Mr.

Brown, glancing critically at the scowling, sullen countenance of the

truant constable. "Still, it was uncommonly decent of Mr. Wang. We

must really do what we can to get him away. What you tinkee makee, Mr.

Wang?"

The man turned to Jack and addressed him in Chinese with much movement

of the hands and frequent glances at Hu Hang.

"He says that after I left him," explained Jack, "he heard that the

yamen runners were already ill-treating his people. That means, of

course, that they'll be stripped of all they have. His only chance was

to get away and join the Chunchuses. If he can only join Ah Lum, no

mandarin will be rash enough to interfere with them. Even the Viceroy

of Moukden is afraid of the brigands. Mr. Wang's only difficulty is to

get out of the city."

"A rather serious one. No doubt by this time they're keeping a pretty

sharp look-out for him, and"--glancing at the man's huge bulk and

muscular development--"he's not the kind of man to pass in a crowd."

The Chinaman, though unable to follow Mr. Brown's English, had gathered

the gist of what he said. He spoke again to Jack.

"If only we can lend him a cart, he says, and a new tunic and

pantaloons, he hasn't much doubt of being able to get through. We can

surely manage that, Father."

"Well, it's risky; but I can't see the man come to grief if it can be

helped."

That Wang Shih understood this was clear, for his face beamed, and he

kowtowed with every mark of gratitude.

"But what about the constable?" said Mr. Brown to Jack. "Suppose he

cuts up rough?" Turning to Wang Shih, he said: "Supposey policeyman

makee bobbely; what you do that-time?"

Mr. Wang grinned. He took the constable by the scruff of the neck and

held him half-throttled at arm's-length.

"Ch'hoy! My keepee Mr. Hu allo-time long-side: he plenty muchee 'flaid,

savvy my belongey plenty stlong, galaw!"

He gave the gasping wretch a final shake. Mr. Brown was satisfied. The

demonstration was complete.

*CHAPTER III*

*Deported*

Mesalliance--An Outing--Bonbons--"Mr. Blown"--A Northern

Frontier--Bandit and Patriot--Hi Lo--Arrested--Monsieur Brin offers

Condolences--Old Scores--General Bekovitch--Short Notice--The General

loses Patience

"Ah! I disturb you, Mr. Brown. I always disturb somebody. I disturb

myself! Therefore I go; another time, another time."

"Not a bit of it, Monsieur. Sit down; I shall be through with these

papers in five minutes. What will you drink? We have a fair

selection."

"Lemonade, my dear Mr. Brown, nothing but lemonade. It is the cool

drink."

"Hi Lo, wailo fetchee lemonade for Monsieur."

"Allo lightee, sah," said a little fellow of some thirteen years,

bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked, a smiling Chinese boy.

Monsieur Anatole Brin, correspondent of the _Soleil_, sat down in a cane

chair and wiped his perspiring bald pate with a yellow silk

handkerchief. Mr. Brown continued to sort his papers. It was not

possible for Monsieur Brin to sit speechless.

"Ah! Mr. Brown, you have things to do. You do not suffer, as we

others, from nostalgia--the home-sickness, you understand? I sigh for

Paris, for the boulevards, the cafes, the Opera, for anything, anything,

but this Moukden. It is five weeks that I am here; I have my paper, my

pencils, my authorization; I have presented to the Viceroy my letter of

credit, my photograph, as it is ordained. I have the red band on my

arm; you see it: the letters B.K., correspondent of war; also Chinese

arabesques, one says they mean 'Him who spies out the military things!'

and here I am still in Moukden. I spy out no military things; I broil

myself with sun, choke myself with dust; it is not possible to go to the

south, where the war is made; no, it is permitted to do anything but

what I am sent for; I become meagre with disappointment."

"Cheer up! Yours is a hard lot, no doubt. The modern general has no

liking for you correspondents. But you will get your chance, no doubt,

in time. The Japanese are coming north. There has been a fight at

Wa-fang-ho, I hear."

"What!" cried the Frenchman, starting up. "A battle and I not there! I

hear of no battle. Colonel Pestitch hear of none. I ask him just now.

Does he tell me lie--prevaricate?"

"He probably knows nothing about it. I knew it through a Chinaman

yesterday. The natives outdo the telegraph, Monsieur, especially the

telegraph with a censor at one end. But, in fact, I have more than once

heard the result of an engagement before even the military authorities."

Monsieur Brin walked up and down the little office impatiently twisting

his moustache.

"Ah! It is abominable--but yes, abominable. Of what good that France

is the ally of Russia? I might be Japanese, or Englishman, with no

alliance at all. Why did I quit Paris? To put on this odious red

badge, like a convict. For what? To promenade myself about Moukden,

from day to day, from week to week, in prey to hundred Chinese diseases,

subject to thousand Chinese odours! Ah, quelle malaise, quel

desappointement, quel spleen!"

"You're in low spirits to-day, Monsieur. Why don't you go about the

country and see the sights?"

"The sights! I have seen them. I have seen the tombs. They do not

equal the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame. Pouah! My throat

fills itself with dust, or my feet stick fast in the mud. For the rest,

if I go farther I fall into the hands of the Koungouzes, the brigands;

they have asperity; I have respect for my skin."

"Look here, Monsieur, this won't do. You'll make yourself ill if you

take things so hardly. What do you say to this, now? My boy is going

some fifteen miles out to a farm, to see some friends of ours--Chinese,

you understand. Why not go with him and see something of the Chinese at

home? Our friend Mr. Wang has an interesting family; you'll enjoy it,

and get material for one article at least for the _Soleil_."

"Ah! it is an idea. We go--how?"

"On ponies. They will put you up for the night. You can return in the

cool to-morrow morning."

"It is an idea. It please me. There is no risk?"

"None, I should think. You can take a revolver, but Jack is pretty well

known. Hi Lo, tell Mr. Jack I want him."

In a few seconds Jack entered. He shook hands cordially with Monsieur

Brin, whom he had seen once or twice since his arrival with a letter of

introduction to Mr. Brown.

"Jack, Monsieur Brin is making himself ill for want of something to do.

Take him with you and introduce him to Wang Shih's people. I think

he'll like them."

"I'll be glad, I'm sure. Will you come, Monsieur?"

"With pleasure, to pass the time."

"I am starting immediately. Hi Lo, saddle a pony for Monsieur, quick."

The little fellow, son of Mr. Brown's compradore, ran off, and returned

in five minutes.

"Pony allo lightee, sah."

"Good boy! Now, Monsieur, shall we start?"

"Hope you'll have a pleasant day, Monsieur," said Mr. Brown. "Look me

up in the morning, and tell me how you got on."

"Good-bye! Thanks! I have not disturb you--busy man like you?"

"Not a bit. Good-bye!"

Mounted on neat little ponies, Monsieur Brin and Jack set off through

the city. To the Frenchman's surprise, Jack did not choose the main

thoroughfare direct to one of the eastern gates, but turned first into

one side street, then into another. They were dusty, dirty, crowded

with people, pigs, and poultry, and Monsieur Brin held his nose and

began to expostulate.

"Wait a little, Monsieur," said Jack. "We are coming to my street. I

never miss it when I come in this direction."

They came by and by to a street differing in no wise from the rest,

except that in one of the paper-windowed houses a school was held. No

sooner had Jack appeared at the end of the street than the sing-song of

children at lessons ceased as by magic, and out of the school flocked a

score of little ones, who rushed towards him with loud and happy cries

of greeting, scattering the fowls and pigs and kicking up clouds of dust

as they ran.

"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed Monsieur Brin, reining up his pony to avoid

trampling them.

"Don't be alarmed," said Jack, laughing. "They are my little

pensioners."

The biggest of the children were already swarming round the pony. Jack

put his hand into his pocket. Instantly there was a yell of delight.

Then suddenly a shower of sweetmeats fell on the outskirts of the crowd,

among the smallest of the children. There was a merry scramble; before

the first handful was picked up a second was scattered in the opposite

direction, and soon every child was on all-fours, hunting for treasure

in the thick brown dust. Meanwhile every door in the street had become

blocked with smiling elders,--toothless old grandames, brawny workmen,

women, girls, all enjoying the scene, chattering among themselves, some

of them giving pleasant salutation to Jack. His pockets at last were

empty; his pony was becoming impatient; and, laughingly threatening to

run the youngsters down, he moved on amid high-pitched cries of "Come

again soon, Mr. Blown!"

Monsieur Brin was vastly entertained. The children's antics were very

droll, and Monsieur was a man of sentiment.

"My word!" he said. "Here is something at last for the readers of the

_Soleil_. I have no victories of war to write; I write of a victory of

peace; how a young Englishman has won the hearts of all a street of

Chinese; how to them he is no longer foreign devil but sweet-stuff

saint. Eh? How became you so great a friend?"

"Oh, it is very simple. I took a fancy one day to a little toddler;

picked him up out of the way of a boisterous pig, and gave him a sweet

to comfort him. Other children were looking on; next time I came this

way a group of them stood with their fingers in their mouths and their

eyes on my pockets. I flung them a sweet or two; they picked them up

and scampered away as though half-scared; but they were on the watch for

me after that, and now, as you see, it has become an institution. They

have very easy-going schoolmasters here; as soon as my nose is seen at

the street end the word is given and out they troop, and the elders know

the sounds and come to see the fun. They are all very good friends of

mine."

Leaving the narrow streets, they came at length to the outer gate,

guarded jointly by several sleepy Chinese soldiers and a Russian sentry.

Jack was well known, and the two riders passed through without

difficulty.

Having a little business to settle with Mr. Wang senior, Jack had

offered, before Wang Shih left Mr. Brown's house in the small hours of

that morning, to ride out and inform the family of his escape. A ride

of some fifteen miles brought the two within sight of the farm. It was

a brick building of one story, like all Manchurian houses, with

cow-byres, pig-sties, and poultry-houses clinging to the wall. The

farmstead was surrounded by lofty wooden palings, and Monsieur Brin's

attention was attracted by two fantastic warlike figures roughly daubed

in red and green on either side of the great gate.

"Oh!" said Jack, in reply to his question, "they're supposed to scare

away evil spirits."

"He! Are not the dogs enough?"

The appearance of the two strangers was hailed by a rush of dogs, large

and small, yelping and barking fiercely, but without malice. The noise

brought the inmates to the door: an old Chinaman and his wife, and two

girls of eighteen or thereabouts, whose regular features, soft brown

eyes, and delicately ruddy complexion made an instant impression upon

the Frenchman. He doffed his hat with the most elegant and graceful

ease, and was not disconcerted when this unaccustomed mode of salutation

set the girls giggling. The mistress led the visitors into the best

room, lofty, airy, clean, with paper windows; along one side a broad

platform some thirty inches from the floor. This was the k'ang, a

hollow structure containing a flue warmed by the smoke and hot air from

the kitchen-fire; it served as a table by day and a bed by night. A

little graven image occupied a tinselled niche; and, the kitchen-fire

not being required in hot weather, a kettle stood on a small brazier,

boiling water for the indispensable tea.

The old people were greatly distressed at the disgrace that had befallen

their only son; still more at his approaching fate, for to die without a

male child to honour one's ashes is the worst of ills to a Chinaman.

They were not aware of his escape; but when Jack told them that he was

now at large, and had gone to join the great Chunchuse chief Ah Lum,

they all, parents and girls, clapped their hands, feeling now secure

against ill-treatment by the Chinese officials. The chief would send

word from his head-quarters to his agent in Moukden that Wang Shih was

under his protection, and the terror in which the brigand was held was

so great that the farmer's family would remain unmolested.

Jack asked where was the encampment of the Chunchuse band. It varied,

said the old man. To avoid capture by the Russians, the chief

frequently shifted his quarters. His band was constantly on the move

between Kirin and the Shan-yan-alin mountains, going so swiftly and

secretly that no one knew where it would turn up next. One day it would

be on the Hun-ho; a detachment of Cossacks would be sent to cut it off,

only to find that it had disappeared. Two or three days later it might

be heard of several hundred li away, on the Sungari.

"Yes," said the old man. "Ah Lum is a great leader, and a great hater

of the Russians; but he hates the Japanese nearly as much. He would

drive all foreigners out of the country. I am glad my son is with him,

though I fear he will not be able to return home until the war is over."

Jack and Monsieur Brin spent some time in rambling about the farm, the

latter smoking innumerable cigarettes, making copious notes, and every

now and then breaking forth into enthusiastic praise of the eldest

daughter, who he declared reminded him of his fiancee in the boulevard

Raspail. He watched with absorbed interest the Chinese way of making

tea: the green leaves placed in a broad saucer and covered with boiling

water; another saucer inverted over the first, and pushed back a little

way after the tea had "drawn", the beverage being sipped through the

interstice. The old farmer insisted on his guests going to see his

coffin, a very handsome box thoughtfully provided by his son and kept in

an outhouse, where Mr. Wang frequently spent an hour in meditation on

mortality. Afterwards Brin was initiated into the complexities of

fan-tan--a guessing game that was prolonged far into the night. They

slept comfortably on the k'ang, and left about eight next morning very

well pleased with their visit.

The sun was already hot, and they rode at a walking pace, partly to

avoid the clouds of choking dust which trotting would have raised. They

were still several miles from the city when Jack saw a small Chinese boy

hastening in their direction.

"That's young Hi Lo," he said, as the figure came more clearly into

view. "I wonder what he is coming this way for! Surely Wang Shih has

not been caught after all?"

The boy had broken into a run, and when he met them Jack saw at once by

his face that he bore grave news. But he was not prepared for what the

little fellow told him in breathless gasps. Soon after daybreak a squad

of Siberian infantry had appeared at Mr. Brown's house, put the merchant

under arrest, ransacked his papers, and carried him off a prisoner. Hi

Lo's father, the compradore, happened to be at a window of the front

room as the soldiers came up; and suspecting, with Chinese shrewdness

and dislike of the soldiers, that something was amiss, he had run to the

inner sanctum and removed the most valuable papers from the safe before

the Russians entered. But knowing that he was likely to be searched, he

had handed the papers to Hi Lo, hoping that the boy would escape the

visitors' attentions. Mr. Brown made a vigorous protest against the

Russians' action, and demanded by what authority they arrested him and

the crime with which he was charged; but the officer in command refused

to give him any information. Before he was marched off, he was allowed

a few words with his compradore, a servant of many years' standing.

Learning that the papers were for the present secure, he had managed,

without making his meaning clear to the Russian officer, to direct that

they should be handed to Jack. They were for the most part vouchers from

the Russian authorities for goods supplied; if not concealed, they would

certainly be seized, and Mr. Brown knew how impossible it was to make a

Russian official disgorge plunder. The whole thing was probably a

mistake, at the worst a plot which could no doubt be shown up. The

first necessity was to put the securities out of harm's way; then Jack

could take whatever steps might be called for to obtain his father's

release, if he were still detained after he had met the charge against

him.

The boy told his story rapidly in pidgin English; not that Jack did not

understand Chinese, but because, like all Chinese servants, Hi Lo made

it a point of pride to use his master's language. Monsieur Brin could

make nothing of the narrative.

"What is the matter with you, my friend?" he asked, seeing the look of

concern on Jack's face.

"An annoying mistake, Monsieur. My father has been arrested by the

Russians."

"Oho! What has he been doing?"

"Nothing, of course. Some official has been too zealous, I suppose. I

must ride on, Monsieur."

"But may not you be arrested, too?"

"I don't think so. If they intended it, they would already have sent a

detachment after me. You may be sure their spies know very well where I

have been. No, I'm in no danger; but anyhow I must find out what it all

means, so if you don't mind, Monsieur, we'll hurry on and chance the

dust."

"Certainly, my friend. My word! this is an unfortunate end to our

pleasant little picnic."

"You have the papers, Hi Lo?"

The boy produced them from some pouch in his wadded cotton garments.

Jack looked them over. They represented a considerable sum of money.

He did not care to have them about him, in case he should be searched.

What could he do with them? For a moment he thought of giving them into

the care of Monsieur Brin, but on reflection he hesitated to involve the

correspondent in his difficulties. Hi Lo was a clever little fellow,

devoted to him; probably he would be the best custodian for the present.

He gave the papers back to the boy.

"Keep them carefully, Hi Lo. Don't come near our house till I send for

you."

Then he put his pony to a canter, and with Brin by his side hastened on

to the city. At the moment, as Jack knew, there were few Russian

soldiers in Moukden. General Kuropatkin was at the front, somewhere

south of Liao-yang; Admiral Alexeieff was at Harbin. The arrest must

have been made in their absence, and probably unknown to them, by the

local military authorities. But, knowing his father's innocence, Jack

expected to find that he had already been released.

On entering the city he said good-bye to Monsieur Brin, who was full of

condolence.

"If I can do anything, tell me," he said. "Unhappily I cannot

telegraph; the soldiers have monopoly of the wires; and, besides, there

is the terrible censor. But if I can do anything----"

"Don't worry, Monsieur. It will be all right. My father is a British

subject; and though the Russians don't love us just now, they won't do

anything very dreadful, I imagine. Many thanks! I will let you know

how things stand."

He rode straight home, and, finding that the house was shut and locked,

sought the compradore at his cottage at the rear of the compound behind.

Learning from him further details of the arrest, he at once set off for

the military head-quarters near the railway-station. He knew several of

the Russian officers, but those to whom he spoke had heard nothing of

the singular occurrence. One of them offered to make enquiries. He

returned by and by with the information that the order for Mr. Brown's

arrest had been given by General Bekovitch. This was not cheering, for

General Bekovitch, as Jack knew, was an officer who under a surface

polish and refinement was thoroughly unscrupulous, and one indeed whose

enmity Mr. Brown had incurred by his uncompromising attitude towards the

official methods of corruption. Some time before this, when Bekovitch

was a colonel, he had transferred to the Pole, Sowinski, a contract

which had been placed in Mr. Brown's hands. The latter protested, and

Bekovitch's superior disallowed his action and gave him metaphorically a

rap on the knuckles. The colonel was deeply chagrined, both at the

reprimand and at the loss of the secret commission arranged with

Sowinski. He was now promoted major-general; his superior was gone; and

Jack could hardly doubt that he had seized the opportunity to pay off

his grudge against the English merchant. Jack shrank somewhat from a

meeting with the general, but his indignation outweighed every other

feeling, and, plucking up his courage, he made his way to the luxurious

railway-carriage which served Bekovitch for quarters.

He had to wait some time before he gained admittance to the general's

presence. When at last he was invited to enter, he found Bekovitch

lolling on a divan smoking a cigarette, a champagne bottle at his elbow.

He was a tall fair man, inclining to stoutness, with a long moustache

and carefully-trimmed beard, and looked in his white uniform a very

dignified representative of the military bureaucracy.

Jack's residence as a boy in Vladivostok had given him a good colloquial

knowledge of Russian, so that he had no difficulty in addressing the

general in his own language.

"I have recently heard, sir, of my father's arrest," he said, "and I

have come to ask if you will be good enough to tell me where he is and

what he is charged with."

"You are Mr. Brown's son? How do you do?" said the general suavely. "I

am sorry for you. It is a bad business altogether. I should be quite

justified in refusing to give you information, but I am, of course,

willing to stretch a point in a case like this--father and son, you

know. Well, I regret to say that I had to arrest your father for giving

military information to the Japanese."

"But, sir, that is ridiculous. My father never did such a thing. He

has had no connection, not even a business one, with the Japanese; he

doesn't like them. Besides, he would never think of doing anything

underhand. No one who knows him could even imagine it."

If Bekovitch felt the personal application, he did not show it.

"Very creditable, very creditable indeed. A loyal son; excellent. I

should be the last to undeceive you; therefore we will say no more about

it. Let me offer you a cigarette."

"No, thank you, sir. Really the matter cannot end thus. What evidence

have you against my father?"

The general shrugged.

"Well, if you will---- We had our suspicions; your father is an

Englishman, you know; we examined his papers and found proof of our

suspicions--full, conclusive. There is no doubt at all about it."

"But you will allow my father to clear himself. I am sure he can do

so."

"We have no time for long-winded processes," replied the general,

throwing away the end of his cigarette and lighting another. "Moukden,

as you must be aware, young man, is under martial law."

"Then what has become of my father, sir? Where is he?"

"We might have shot him, you know." The general's manner was suaver

than ever. "But we are a merciful people. Your father has merely

been--deported."

At this Jack felt that either there was a hole in the net woven around

his father, or the Russians had feared to proceed to extremities owing

to his British nationality.

"Well, sir," he said, "I shall, of course, appeal to our government."

"Certainly, my young friend, certainly! But on what ground? See, I

recognize your anxiety; it is perfectly natural; for that reason I am

patient with you. But we must be the judges as to who shall stay in

Manchuria, who shall leave. Your father is now on his way to--to the

frontier. You will follow without loss of time. I give you twelve

hours to quit the city. A pass shall be made out for you; you will go

by to-night's train to Harbin."

General Bekovitch's manner was as urbane and polite as ever, but there

was in his tone a something that warned the boy that further protest

would be useless. Still, he must make one more effort to discover his

father's whereabouts.

"Has my father gone to Harbin?" he asked.

"I have told you, my young friend, he has been deported. I can tell you

no more."

"But why not tell me his route, General Bekovitch? He was in any case

leaving for England in a few days. If I am to go to Harbin I should like

to know whether there is any possibility of overtaking my father and

proceeding to Europe with him."

For answer the general summoned an attendant.

"Michel Sergeitch, show this young man out."

Jack gave him one look, then turned in silence towards the door.

"One moment," called the general after him. "As I said, a pass shall be

sent you. The train leaves at eight. If you are found here to-morrow,

you will be arrested and escorted as a prisoner to the frontier. That,

I may remark, is an unpleasant mode of travelling. Remember, eight

o'clock."

*CHAPTER IV*

*The Great Siberian Railway*

Duty and Inclination--A Domiciliary Visit--Monsieur Brin Protests--A

Reminder--The Ombeloke--Quandary--Salvage--A Fortune in Soles--Fellow

Passengers--From a Carriage Window--A Further Search--At the Sungari

Bridge--Off the Line--The Compradore's Brother--Consultation--A

Bargain--The Terms--The Last Load--In a Horse-box

Jack had rage in his heart as he walked back to the city. He was angry

and indignant, but even more alarmed. The general had told him little:

was that little the truth? What did he mean by "deported"? If Mr. Brown

had really been put across the frontier, why should the general have

refused to say by what route he had travelled? Jack feared that there

had been foul play, and his anxiety was none the less because he could

not imagine what form the foul play had taken.

His own position was awkward. He was homeless; in a few hours he was to

be packed like a bundle of goods into a train and carried away against

his will. His father might have preceded him to Europe; on the other

hand, he might not. Was he to leave Moukden thus, in uncertainty as to

his father's fate?

Thus perplexed and troubled in mind, he walked back to his house. At

the door he found Monsieur Brin in a state of desperation at his

inability to make head or tail of the compradore's pidgin English.

"Ha, my friend!" he exclaimed, "I am glad to see you; I must know the

worst; I come in haste, but the Chinese man speaks a language of

monkeys; I understand it not. Tell me what is arrived."

"I have seen General Bekovitch," replied Jack. "He told me almost

nothing. My father has been deported--for betraying secrets to the

Japanese, if you please! Did you ever hear of anything so ridiculous,

so preposterous!"

"But that is all right. O.K. Deported! Mr. Brown is the happy man.

It would please me to be deported also. He goes back to Europe: that I

could accompany him!"

"But that is the point. Has he gone back to Europe? The general would

not tell me. And he is packing me off too! I have to leave by

to-night's train for Harbin, or he will put me under arrest."

"He! That is a scandal. I will expose it. I will write it all to my

redacteur. Ah! But I ask myself, will the redacteur publish my letter?

France is allied to Russia. A French publicist has to consider not

solely his own persuasions, but his duty to his country. I reflect: it

will be best actually to write nothing. But if, my friend, there needs

money, demand me; I can furnish hundred, hundred and fifty roubles: it

will be to me a pleasure."

"Many thanks, Monsieur! I do not think I shall need your assistance. I

told the general I shall appeal to our government. Unluckily we have no

consul here; the nearest, I suppose, is at Shanghai; and being sent off

to Harbin, I don't know when I shall have an opportunity of

communicating with our authorities."

"Truly, it is a difficult situation. And your goods here: what will

they become?"

"They'll be confiscated, I suppose. As you see, I am locked out.

Luckily we have nothing of any great value. My father sent off in

advance all that he wished to keep, and they can't touch his account at

the Hong-Kong and Shanghai bank."

He said nothing about the securities in Hi Lo's possession, not from any

want of faith in the Frenchman's good-will, but not entirely trusting

his discretion.

"They have no right to lock me out," continued Jack. "And as General

Bekovitch said he'd send me a pass for the train, he must suppose he'll

find me here. So if Mr. Hi will put his shoulder to the door, I think

we'll force the lock and see what they have been doing."

The stalwart compradore made short work of the fastenings. Accompanied

by Monsieur Brin and the Chinaman, Jack entered his father's house.

There were manifest signs of ransacking. The floor of the office was

strewn with papers; in the dining-room the drawers had been emptied; and

a large oaken press, a fine specimen of Chinese cabinet-making on which

Mr. Brown set much store, had been forced open. They were contemplating

the dismal scene when Hi Lo came running in.

"Masta," he said hurriedly, "thlee fo' piecee Lusski walkee chop-chop

this-side."

[Illustration: A Search Party]

A few moments later the house was entered by four Siberian infantrymen,

headed by a lieutenant and accompanied by a tall, fair, hook-nosed man,

at the sight of whom Jack started. A light flashed upon him. Anton

Sowinski was the Russian Pole who had been doing his best to ruin Mr.

Brown's business, and had so bitterly resented Mr. Brown's successes.

It was he, too, who had instigated the charge trumped up against Wang

Shih in revenge for a business defeat. Was it unlikely that Sowinski

had been the agent in this other trumped-up charge of espionage? If

not, what was his business now?

"I have come," said the lieutenant, "to bring you the pass promised by

General Bekovitch. Here it is."

He drew a large unsealed envelope from his pocket, and took from it a

paper which he proceeded to read. It stipulated that Mr. John Brown,

junior, was to leave Moukden by the train for Harbin at 8 p.m., en route

for Europe. Replacing it in the envelope, the officer laid this upon the

table and said:

"I regret, Monsieur, that I have a disagreeable duty to perform. I am

ordered to search the house and everybody in it. Mr. Brown is known to

have been in possession of certain vouchers which are now forfeit to my

government. They could not be found when he was arrested; the conclusion

is that they are in your possession. I must ask you to turn out your

pockets."

"I have no papers," said Jack, "and I protest."

"I am sorry. I have my orders to carry out. Resistance is useless."

"Oh! I shall not resist. Search away."

The lieutenant had already posted a soldier at the back entrance, and

had sent another man to bring into the room anyone whom he might find on

the premises. As Jack was being searched, Hi Lo was brought in; he had

slipped away when the Russians entered. Jack hoped that the boy had had

time to hide the papers, for though the amount they represented was

small in comparison with his father's total fortune, it was yet

considerable in itself, and he was anxious to save it, not merely for

its own sake, but because without it he would have no means of carrying

through a plan he had already dimly determined on. Hi Lo's face was

void of all expression. There were now in the room, besides the

Russians, Jack himself, Monsieur Brin, the compradore, and his son. The

door was locked.

Jack was searched from top to toe. Nothing was found on him save

letters of no importance. The compradore and Hi Lo were examined in

turn; they submitted meekly, and Jack almost betrayed his relief when he

saw that the papers had not been discovered on the boy. Then the

officer turned to Monsieur Brin, glancing at the red band on his arm.

"But I am a Frenchman," exclaimed the angry correspondent. "Why do you

search me? I have nothing. I know nothing."

"I find you in Mr. Brown's house. I have orders to search everybody. I

hope you will make no difficulty, Monsieur."

"Difficulty! It is you that make difficulty. It is an insult, an

indignity. I am an ally; peste! for what good to be an ally if I am

thus treated as an enemy! But I do not resist; no, I resign myself.

From no one but an ally would I endure such an indignity."

"I am exceedingly sorry, Monsieur. General Bekovitch, in giving orders,

of course did not contemplate for a moment the case of a French

correspondent being present; but my instructions are positive. I have

no choice but to carry them out."

"Well, I protest still once more. I will make the French nation know

the price they pay for this so agreeable alliance."

Monsieur Brin was searched. No papers were found on him except his

pocket-book, a lady's photograph, and several letters, which the officer

glanced through, the Frenchman fuming with impatience and indignation.

At the conclusion of the search the lieutenant threw a meaning glance at

Sowinski, whose attitude throughout had convinced Jack of the

correctness of his surmise. The Pole's presence was in itself a

sufficient proof of his personal interest in Mr. Brown's fate. An hour

was spent in making a further examination of the scattered papers;

nothing incriminating being found, the lieutenant gave his men the order

to march. At the last moment he glanced at the envelope on the table.

"Take care of it, Monsieur," he said; "it would be awkward for you if it

were lost."

When the party had gone, Monsieur Brin fairly exploded with wrath.

English was too slow for him; a rapid torrent of French came from his

quivering lips. But Jack's attention was diverted from the Frenchman by

the strange antics of Hi Lo, who was dancing round his father, his face

beaming with delight.

"You hid the papers?" said Jack. "You are a good boy. Where are they?"

The boy pointed to the envelope on the table.

"What do you mean?"

"Masta, look-see. Masta, look-see."

Jack lifted the envelope. The boy's glee puzzled him. Opening it, he

took out the Russian pass, and with it half a dozen thin slips of paper

written upon in Russian and French. He could hardly believe his eyes.

They were the very papers for which the officer had sought so diligently

but in vain.

"How is this? What does it mean?" he said in blank amazement.

"Hai-yah! Velly bad Lusski man look-see Masta; allo piecee bad man

look-see all-same; no can tinkee Hi Lo plenty smart inside. Hai-yah!

Allo piecee Lusski man look-see that-side; my belongey this-side, makee

no bobbely; cleep-cleep 'long-side table; my hab papers allo lightee:

ch'hoy! he belong-ey chop-chop inside ombeloke; Lusski no savvy nuffin

'bout nuffin, galaw!"

Jack burst into a roar of laughter, and translated the boy's pidgin to

the bewildered Frenchman. While the Russians were intent on searching

Jack, and their backs were towards Hi Lo, the boy, knowing that his turn

must come, seized the opportunity to slip the precious papers into the

unclosed envelope on the table. Monsieur Brin flung up his hands and

began to pirouette, then stopped to laugh, and held his shaking sides.

"Hi! hi! admirable! Excellentissime! Bravo! bravo! Ma foi! Comme il

est adroit! Comme il est spirituel! Ho! ho! Tiens! Le gars merite une

forte recompense. Voila!"

In his excess of enthusiasm he took a silver dollar from his pocket,

spun it, and handed it to Hi Lo. The boy was sober in an instant. He

gravely handed the coin back.

"No wantchee Fa-lan-sai man he dollar," he said.

Brin looked to Jack for an explanation.

"He is much obliged, but would rather not. You made a little mistake,

Monsieur. You can't offend a Chinaman of this sort more than by

offering him money. He is, indeed, a clever little chap. I'll take

care he doesn't go unrewarded."

"Ha! That is another point for my chapter on the characteristics of the

Chinese. But now, my friend, what will you do?"

"Really, Monsieur, I don't know. I must talk it over with the

compradore."

"Very well then, I leave you. I go to write notes of this most

interesting episode. I begin to enjoy war correspondence. You go at

eight? I will be at the station to say adieu."

Jack spent more than an hour in serious consultation with Hi An, the

compradore, a man of forty, who had served his father for nearly twenty

years, and was heart and soul devoted to his interests. There was no

question but that Jack must leave Moukden that night, and Hi An advised

him to go straight to Moscow and take the first opportunity of

communicating with the British Foreign Office. Meanwhile the compradore

himself would do what he could to trace the whereabouts of his master.

But this course Jack was very unwilling to adopt. In the first place,

he had his father's instructions to realize the securities, so cleverly

saved by Hi Lo. Then there was the consignment of flour which he hoped

might run the Japanese blockade and come safe to harbour at Vladivostok.

If it should arrive it would be worth a large sum of money, and Jack was

not disposed to yield that a spoil to the Russians. Last and most

important consideration, he was oppressed by the mystery of his father's

fate. With the likelihood of innumerable delays on the congested

railway, he might be three weeks or a month reaching Moscow; he foresaw

difficulties in inducing the Foreign Office to move in a case where

there was so little to go upon; and, above all, it was unendurable to

think that his father might, for all he knew, be still near at hand, in

danger and distress.

He was already determined, then, that, leave Moukden if he must, he

would not leave Manchuria. But what could he do to secure his objects

and his own safety? He wondered whether the news of his father's arrest

had been telegraphed to Harbin and Vladivostok. That was unlikely, he

thought, for two reasons. It was well known that Mr. Brown had been

winding up his business; the Russian authorities, unless specially

informed, would not suppose that there was any plunder to be got apart

from what was found at Moukden. And the telegraph had been for months

past very much overworked, what with the heavy railway traffic and the

constant messages flashing to and fro between the principal depots in

Manchuria and between Manchuria and St. Petersburg. It was therefore

unlikely that the enforced departure of a Moukden merchant would be

considered of sufficient importance to communicate. If this reasoning

was correct, and Jack could contrive to reach Vladivostok before the

news filtered through, he might save the remnants of his father's

property, and turn the vouchers into negotiable securities. He would

then find himself in possession of considerable funds, which he might

use if necessary in tracking his father.

The first thing was to get to Vladivostok. The pass stipulated that he

should go through Harbin over the Siberian railway to Moscow. To reach

Vladivostok he must change trains at Harbin, and by that very fact

become a fugitive and an outlaw. Apparently General Bekovitch did not

intend to send him north under an escort; it probably never occurred to

him that with his father deported, his home broken up, Jack would make

an effort, in face of the definite order to quit the country, to remain.

But though no escort was provided, he would undoubtedly be watched; and

to slip away at Harbin in a direction the opposite of that intended

promised to be a matter of considerable difficulty and danger.

The compradore shook his head when Jack explained what he had in his

mind. Then, finding that his young master was determined, he did not

attempt to dissuade him, but set himself in earnest to talk over ways

and means. He had a brother in Harbin, a grain merchant, who had

dealings with the Russians. This man might be able to give Jack

information and assistance, and to him the compradore wrote a short note

of introduction. The next thing was to provide for the safety of the

Russian vouchers. Jack might be searched again _en route_, and it was

therefore inadvisable to carry them in his pocket. He pondered for a

time without finding any solution of the difficulty. He was sitting

with crossed legs, his hands clasping his knee, his eyes cast down.

Studying the heavy thick-soled boot he wore in summer, under stress of

Manchurian mud, he suddenly bethought himself.

"You can turn your hand to most things, Mr. Hi; do you think you could

split the sole of one of my boots and put it together again?"

"Of course, sir."

"That's the very thing, then. No one would ever think of taking my boot

to pieces."

Hi An very quickly and deftly performed the necessary operation.

Between the two parts of the split sole Jack placed the vouchers and

letter of introduction; then the compradore neatly stuck them together

again. He produced a roll of rouble notes, enough to pay preliminary

expenses and leave a margin for emergencies.

"There, Master," he said. "I have done all I can."

"You're a good fellow. I must trust to the chapter of accidents for the

rest. I may never see you again, Mr. Hi. If I come to grief, you will

do what you can to find my father?"

"I will, Master, if I have to trudge on foot all the way to Pekin to ask

help of the Son of Heaven himself."

Some minutes before eight o'clock Jack, by virtue of his pass, was

admitted without a ticket to the platform at which the train for Harbin

was drawn up. He had been compelled to take his farewell of Monsieur

Brin, the compradore, and Hi Lo outside, much to the Frenchman's

indignation. The line was very badly managed; the officials were

soldiers, with no technical acquaintance with railway management.

Trains were despatched from Moukden to Harbin, and from Harbin to

Moukden, at any time that suited the officials at either end, without

prearrangement, sometimes even without communication between the

stations. On this particular train there was no distinction of classes,

and Jack found himself one of some forty passengers packed into a

carriage built for thirty. The company was exceedingly mixed. Russian

officers were cheek by jowl with Chinese merchants; a huge long-bearded

Russian pope was wedged between a German commercial traveller and a

Sister with the red cross on her arm; at one end was a group of

chattering Greek camp-followers, who brought out a filthy pack of cards

long before the train started, and began a game of makao, which

continued, with intervals for squabbling and refreshment, all the way to

Harbin. Jack made himself as comfortable as he could in a corner, and

prepared to sleep if the close proximity of his fellow-passengers and

the stuffiness of the air allowed.

It was past nine o'clock before the train steamed out. Punctuality is a

virtue non-existent on the Siberian railway. The journey taxed Jack's

patience to the utmost. The line is single, doubled at intervals of five

versts to allow of the passage of trains in opposite directions. The

train was constantly being shunted into sidings, remaining sometimes for

hours, no one could tell why; and one of the most annoying features of

the constant stoppages was that the train, after running through a

station where the passengers would have been glad to obtain

refreshments, would come to a stand several versts beyond, where they

had nothing to do but kick their heels and look disconsolately out on

the country. On one of the sidings stood a goods train, two trucks of

which were loaded with a large gun; it had no doubt been injured by a

Japanese shell, and was being returned to arsenal for repair. In

another train Jack noticed a truck crowded with poor wretches who

appeared to be chained together--misdemeanants from the army, he

surmised, on their way to one of the penal settlements in Siberia. At

short intervals appeared the little brick huts of the soldiers guarding

the line, and occasionally a group of three or four of those

green-coated guards might be seen riding along at the foot of the

embankment on their stout Mongol ponies.

Jack had travelled many times along the line, but not recently, and he

was greatly interested in the amazing developments which it had

undergone. New buildings of brick seemed to have sprung up like

mushrooms along its course. Where formerly had been spacious fields of

kowliang--the long-stalked millet of the country--with Chinese fangtzes

few and far between, there were now wide bare stretches upon which

Russian industry was erecting storehouses, engine-sheds, tile-covered

residences for the officials. Some thirty-five miles from Moukden is

Tieling, which, when Jack's train passed through at three o'clock in the

morning--having taken just six hours to run that distance--seemed to be

nothing but a collection of scaffolding, with Chinese bricklayers

already at work, trowel in hand. Between Tieling and Harbin stretches

an immense plain, fertile for the most part, and hitherto left almost

unspoiled. Nowhere does the line pass through a Chinese village; these

were purposely avoided by the Russian engineers from motives of policy,

and in deference to native susceptibilities. They are for the most part

out of sight from the railway. All that can be seen is, on the right,

the broad rutty mandarin highway; on the left, a narrower road edging

interminable fields of kowliang. There are few stations between Moukden

and Harbin: at two, Tieling and Kai-chuang, the Russians had established

their base hospitals.

Hour after hour passed. Jack whiled away a good part of the time by

whittling sticks with his penknife, somewhat to the amusement of the

Russian army doctor who sat next to him, and who did not appear to

notice that the sticks were shaped to a definite size, and that, after

several had been thrown away, two or three were placed in Jack's pocket.

Many times the train was halted at a doubling to allow a troop train to

pass, filled with Russian soldiers on the way to the front, shouting,

singing, in the highest spirits. At one point an empty Red Cross train

stood on a siding, having emptied its freight of wounded men at one of

the hospitals.

During one of the stoppages the belaced official who acted as guard

politely requested Jack to step into the station-master's office, where

he was searched by one of the soldiers. He was thus left in no doubt

that he was under surveillance, and when he got back to his carriage he

found that his bag had been opened. He congratulated himself on his

forethought in concealing his papers so effectually in his boot.

At the moment of saying good-bye the compradore had given him a piece of

news that made him anxious to complete his journey. A Chinese employed

at the station had told him that Anton Sowinski had booked a seat by the

next day's train. It was by no means impossible that this train, if it

happened to carry any important passengers, would overtake and pass the

first somewhere on the line. The Pole was likely to spread the news of

Mr. Brown's arrest, and if he should succeed in getting to Vladivostok

before Jack the game would certainly be up.

At length, about forty-five hours after leaving Moukden, someone said

that Harbin was in sight, and there was instantly a movement and bustle

among the passengers.

"Keep your seat," said the doctor to Jack with a smile.

"Thanks! I know," said Jack with an answering smile.

The train slowed down, then stopped at the southern end of the bridge

over the Sungari river. It was as though the engine were parleying with

the sentry. On the right rose the barracks of the frontier guards,

surrounded by a loopholed wall. At the bridge end were two guns framed

in sand-bags, and watched by two sentinels. Across the river, above and

below the bridge, an immense boom prevented traffic either up or down.

While the train halted, an official came along the carriages, fastened

all the windows, locked all the doors; to open them before the bridge

was crossed entailed a heavy penalty. When all the passengers were thus

secured, and there was no chance of any Japanese spy throwing a bomb on

to the bridge, the train moved slowly on, passed more guns at the

farther end, and came to rest at the spacious station in the Russian

quarter of the town.

[Illustration: Map of Manchuria and part of Siberia]

A train from Vladivostok was expected during the afternoon, and the

composite train would leave for the west at nine o'clock. Jack went out

with the majority of the passengers into the buffet, which is one of the

admirable features of the Russian railway system, and ordered a good

meal. Then he looked over some illustrated papers, making no attempt to

leave the station, having noticed that he was still watched by one of

the train attendants. Time hung heavily; he took a nap on one of the

seats, and when he awoke found that the Vladivostok train had arrived,

and the night train for the west was being made up. Strolling out with

his bag, he showed his pass to an official, and by means of a liberal

tip secured a sleeping compartment to himself. He explained with many

yawns that, being tired out, he intended to turn in as soon as the train

started, and asked the man to arrange his bed and lock him in. The

attendant complied, and a few minutes later Jack noticed him in

conversation with the man under whose watchful eyes he had been all day.

The latter appeared satisfied and went away.

The train was late in starting; a high personage, it seemed, was

expected. Jack stood for some minutes at the door, watching the varied

crowd on the platform Suddenly he heard cheers; the high personage had

no doubt arrived. A warning bell rang; the officials called to the

passengers to take their seats. Jack took off his coat in full view

from the platform, then drew the curtain, opened his bag, and took from

it, not a night costume, but a brush, a comb, and a collar. Then he

turned off the light.

But instead of throwing himself on his bed, he went to the opposite door

of the compartment and tried it; as he expected, it was locked. He put

on his coat, crammed into the pockets the articles he had taken from his

bag, and from his vest pocket took one of the sticks he had been

whittling on the way from Moukden. Leaning out of the window, he

inserted it in the lock. The train was just beginning to move. Would

this extemporized key serve? He turned it; the lock clicked; and the

next moment he was on the foot-board. Silently closing the door he

dropped to the ground, and ran alongside the moving train, stumbling and

tripping over the rugged ballast. The pace quickened and the train

began to distance him; but he made all the speed he could, and by the

time the last carriage had passed him he found, to his relief, that he

was beyond the station and in darkness. Dodging behind an engine-shed he

clambered over a fence, left the railway, and set off to find the house

of the compradore's brother.

He had taken the precaution, before starting, to obtain very explicit

directions, in order to save time, and to avoid the risk involved in

asking questions. The Chinese part of the town is some three miles from

the station, on lower ground near the river. The streets were

abominably filthy; and by the time Jack reached the priestan or

merchants' quarters he felt sadly in need of a bath. By following the

compradore's instructions he found the grain store of which he was in

search, though with some trouble. All the business premises in the

neighbourhood were closed for the night; there were few people in the

streets: the Chinaman as a rule barricades himself in his house at

nightfall. Making sure by peering at the sign that he had come to the

right house, Jack gently knocked at the door. It was opened by a

Chinaman, whom Jack recognized by the light of the oil-lamp he carried

as the compradore's brother.

"I am from Moukden, Mr. Hi," said Jack, "and have a note from your

brother Mr. Hi An."

"Come in," said the Chinaman at once, without any indication of

surprise. Jack pulled off his dirty boots and followed him to a little

back shop, where he had evidently just been engaged in brewing tea. He

asked Jack to sit down, poured him out a dish of tea, and then waited

with oriental patience to hear what his visitor had to say. Prising open

the sole of one of his boots, Jack drew out the compradore's note. It

bore only three Chinese characters, and said merely that Hi An wished

his brother to give all possible assistance to the bearer. The Chinaman

looked up with an expression of grave polite curiosity and still waited.

The compradore having said that his brother could be thoroughly trusted,

Jack explained to him, as simply and clearly as he could, the

circumstances that had brought him to Harbin, and the object of his

visit. When the Chinaman had heard the story, and learnt what was

expected of him, he looked somewhat scared. He said that the Russians

would inflict the most terrible punishments upon him if they discovered

that he had sheltered and assisted a fugitive. He spoke of his terror

of the Russian knout. But the Englishman might command him to do what

he could. Had he not himself received benefits from Mr. Brown? Five

years ago, he said, when he was on the verge of ruin, he had written to

his brother the compradore for assistance. Hi An, a born gambler, like

every Chinaman, had himself been speculating disastrously, and was

unable to give any help. But he had appealed to Mr. Brown, who had at

once advanced the sum required and set the grain merchant on his feet

again. The loan had long since been repaid: in business transactions

the Chinaman is the soul of honour: but he had never lost his feeling of

gratitude; and his recollection of Mr. Brown's kindness, together with

his brother's request, made him willing to run some risk on behalf of

his benefactor's son.

Jack talked long over the situation with his host. His object was to

get to Vladivostok as soon as possible. Having no pass he could not

travel openly, and when breakfast-time came next morning his absence

from the Moscow train would be discovered, even if it were not found out

before; the news would be telegraphed to Harbin, and there would

instantly be a hue and cry. The Chinaman doubted whether this would be

the case; the train officials would be too anxious to screen their own

negligence. Still, it would be unsafe for Jack to remain in Harbin; as

for himself, he saw no way of helping him.

"I must go by train," said Jack, "and secretly. Could I go hidden in a

goods wagon?"

"That might be possible," said the Chinaman; "but goods trains are not

fast; they are often delayed for hours and even days. The journey would

take a week, and though you might carry food with you, you would have to

leave your hiding-place for water, and you could not escape discovery."

"Still, it may be that or nothing. Have you yourself any goods going in

that direction?"

"No. My business is chiefly to supply fodder to the Russians, more

especially for horses that are being sent south. I completed a large

contract yesterday. One thing I can do. I can go to the station in the

morning and learn what trains are expected to leave for Vladivostok.

That is the first step. You will remain concealed in my house. You

were not seen as you entered?"

"No. The street was clear."

"Then nobody but my wife and myself need know that you are here. I will

do what I can for you."

"Thank you! And if it is a question of bribery, you need not be

niggardly."

The Chinaman smiled. He had not had dealings with Russian officials for

nothing.

Jack was provided with a couch for the night, and, being very tired

after his long journey and the excitement of his escape, he soon fell

asleep. About five o'clock he was awakened by the Chinaman's hurried

entrance.

"It is all arranged, sir," he said, "but at a terrible price. A train

conveying horses is to leave for Vladivostok at seven. The sergeant in

charge is well known to me: I have had dealings with him. All Russians

can be bribed; but this man--sir, he is an extortioner. Still, after

what you said, I made the bargain with him. You give him at once twenty

roubles; you arrive safely at Vladivostok and give him thirty roubles

more. I tried to make him accept twenty-five for the second sum, but he

refused."

Jack could not help smiling at this naive evidence of the oriental habit

of bargaining. He felt that if he reached Vladivostok for fifty roubles

he would have got off remarkably well.

"But how is it to be managed?" he asked.

"I gave him to understand, sir, that you are a foreign correspondent

wishing to see Vladivostok, and that there is a delay in the forwarding

of the necessary authorization. It was because you are a foreigner that

the sergeant was so firm about the five roubles. He talked about the

risk he ran, and said that you must leave the train some time before it

arrives at Vladivostok and walk the rest of the way. He said, too, that

if you should be discovered you were not to admit that he had any

knowledge of your presence. I promised that you would do all this."

"Very well. I am exceedingly obliged to you. But how am I to go? What

will the sergeant do for twenty roubles?"

"He will give you a corner in a horse-box."

"Does the train consist of nothing but horse-boxes?"

"Horse-boxes and the sergeant's van. You cannot go in that."

"No. And how am I to get into the horse-box without being seen? There

are sure to be soldiers and officials about."

The Chinaman rubbed his hands slowly and pondered.

"If it had been yesterday," he said, "you might then have gone hidden in

a hay-cart. But my last loads were delivered yesterday."

"Who knows that?"

"The inspector of forage; perhaps others."

"And is the inspector likely to be at the station this morning?"

"Not so early as seven; he is too fond of his bed for that."

"Where is the train standing?"

"On a siding at some little distance from the station. You can drive

straight up to it from the road through the goods entrance. But there

is a sentry at the gate."

"Well, Mr. Hi, I think I see a way to dodge the sentry, with your kind

assistance. I suppose you have some hay or straw in your store?"

"Certainly."

"Then if you will load up a wagon with several large bundles, and leave

a hole for me in the middle, I think I can get to my place in the

horse-box."

"But you might be seen as you slip out."

"We can lessen the risk of that. You can drive the wagon up to the

horse-box as though bringing a final load that had been overlooked. I

am covered by the bundles. You move them in such a way that the sides of

the cart are well screened, at the same time leaving a passage for me.

I ought to be able to slip into the box without being observed. And if

you are willing I will chance it."

The Chinaman agreed, and as the time was drawing near, and the earlier

the plan was carried out the better, he went off to get his wagon

loaded. Shortly after six the cumbrous vehicle was brought up as close

as possible to a door giving into the yard of the store. Jack thanked

Mr. Hi very warmly for his services, and begged him, if he should by any

chance learn of Mr. Brown's whereabouts, to communicate with his brother

in Moukden. Choosing a moment when nobody but the Chinaman and his wife

was near, Jack slipped into the wagon, and was in a few moments

effectually concealed by the bundles of hay. He found in the bottom of

the cart a supply of food and a large water-bottle thoughtfully provided

by his obliging host.

Mr. Hi himself mounted to the bare board behind his oxen, grasped the

rope reins in one hand and the long-thonged whip in the other, and drove

off. Jack did not enjoy the drive, jolted over the vile roads, and

half-choked by the full-scented hay. The wagon came to the gate of the

goods entrance, and the Chinaman was challenged by the sentry. He

pulled up, and with much deference explained that he had brought a last

load of hay for the horses about to leave for Vladivostok, pointing at

the same time to the long line of horse-boxes standing on the siding,

about three hundred yards away. The sentry jerked his rifle over his

shoulder and said nothing. Taking his silence for consent, the Chinaman

lashed his oxen, and the wagon rumbled over the bumpy ground and two or

three lines of metals until it reached the last carriage but one, next

to the brake-van. The Chinaman jumped to the ground, backed the wagon

against the door, and began to arrange his bundles as Jack had

suggested. He whispered to Jack that nobody was near; and next moment a

form much the colour of hay crept on all-fours out of the wagon into the

van. Then Mr. Hi built up the hay with what was already in the vehicle,

so as to conceal him and yet allow a little air-space near one of the

small windows. There were three horses in the van. Though early

morning, it was already close and stuffy, and Jack looked forward with

anything but pleasure to the heat of mid-day and the prospect of many

hours in this equine society.

*CHAPTER V*

*A Deal in Flour*

Vladivostok--Orloff--Russian Resentment--Large Profits--Quick

Returns--Overreached--A Droshky Race--The Waverley--Captain

Fraser--Sowinski comes Aboard--Sea Law--Pourboire

It was two o'clock in the morning on the second day after Jack left

Harbin. The train slowed down as it rounded a loop, and finally came to

a stop. Jack was fast asleep in his corner of the horse-box. He was

awakened by a touch on the shoulder.

"You get down here, sir."

"Ah! Where are we, sergeant?"

"Four versts from Vladivostok."

"That's well. And what sort of a night?"

"Fine, sir; but dark as pitch."

"Thanks! Let me see; is it twenty-five roubles I owe you?"

"Thirty, sir, no less; more if you like."

"Here you are. Have you got a match? Take care: a spark, you know!

Count them; three ten-rouble notes. Now, how am I to get into the town?"

"The road's not far on the other side of the line.--Nobody is to know

how you got here, sir."

"I understand that. Many thanks! It has been a pretty rapid journey

for Manchuria, I think."

"Yes. Live stock comes next to the Viceroy. Horses are none the better

for being jolted over three hundred miles of rail, so they've let us

pass several goods trains on the way."

"Any passenger trains allowed to pass us?"

"Not one."

"Then I couldn't have got here sooner. Thanks again!"

Jack dropped from the foot-board, ran down the embankment, and in a few

minutes struck the high-road. He had not thought it necessary to

explain to the sergeant that he knew the district. It was, as the

Russian had said, very dark, but Jack made his way to a plantation near

the road, through which he knew that a little stream ran. There he had

a thorough wash, changed his collar, brushed and shook his clothes, and

felt a different creature. Then he sat down on the moss-grown roots of

an oak, and ate the Chinese cakes and dried fruit that remained from the

stock of food given him by Hi Feng, the compradore's brother, washing it

down with water from the brook. Dawn was breaking by the time he had

finished his frugal breakfast, but it was useless to go into the town

until the business houses opened. He therefore determined to remain in

the secluded nook he had chosen, and sat there thinking of what lay

before him.

About eight o'clock he rose to continue his walk to the town. It was

two years since he had last visited it, and he was struck by the

progress it had made in the interval. Founded only forty years before,

the city had grown very rapidly; but since the Russian occupation of

Manchuria it had made giant strides. New hospitals and barracks had

been erected; the surrounding hills, once decked with forest, but now

treeless, were covered with immense forts and earthworks, at which vast

gangs of coolies were still at work. The wooden shanties that formerly

lined the shore had for the most part given place to more solid and

imposing structures of brick and stone. Other signs of development

caught Jack's eye as he walked towards the harbour; but he was too eager

to complete his errand to dwell upon them, especially as he heard behind

him in the distance the rumble of an approaching train. It overtook him

just as he turned down one of the steep, narrow side streets leading to

the office of his father's agent; and as he saw the long line of

carriages, including several sleeping-cars, roll past, he could not but

wonder whether Anton Sowinski was among the passengers, and hastened his

steps.

The office had just been opened for the day when he arrived. Alexey

Petrovitch Orloff was a big, jovial Russian of some forty years; honest,

or Mr. Brown would have had no dealings with him; a little greedy; a

good business man, and on excellent terms with his principal. But Jack

knew little about him outside their business transactions, and had made

up his mind not to trust him with his secret.

"Ah, Ivan Ivanovitch!" exclaimed Orloff as Jack entered. "I was

expecting you or your father. You came by the night train?"

"Yes. You must have been asleep when it arrived."

"What sort of a journey had you?"

"It was very hot."

"Yes, we have been baked here. When did you leave?"

"On Thursday."

"A fairly quick journey, considering the state of the line. You left

before my letter arrived?"

"Yes. Of course you guess the object of my visit?"

"The consignment of flour? You have had great luck, I must say; but

Captain Fraser always is lucky. Of course his cargo was not contraband

according to English ideas, but we Russians have been rather strict of

late, and the Japanese will probably follow suit. However, Captain

Fraser never saw a Japanese cruiser the whole voyage. It should be an

excellent speculation for your father. Prices are naturally high just

now."

"That is good news. We shouldn't like to wind up with a failure."

"Of course not. It is a pity your father is retiring; we are bound to

win in the end; but I've no doubt he can well afford it. And I'm not

the man to complain, if, as I hope, I can get hold of a part of his

business. Perhaps he is wise after all. Manchuria is not the most

comfortable country to live in--just now, at any rate; and I fancy an

Englishman will have a poor time of it in Moukden, eh?" (He gave Jack a

shrewd look.) "Your newspapers have so completely taken the side of the

enemy."

"Yes, there is a strong feeling at home in favour of Japan, and your

people resent it. That's natural enough."

"It's rather worse than that. People here are saying that Russia and

England will be at war before a month's out."

"Nonsense!"

"They say so. Our cruisers have stopped a P. and O. liner, the

_Malacca_, in the Mediterranean, and put a prize crew on board. She was

carrying contraband, it appears; but your fire-eaters--jingoes, is that

the name?--are thirsting for our blood."

"We don't all eat fire and drink blood, Alexey Petrovitch."

"True. And you English will find you have backed the wrong horse."

"You haven't been much troubled here, then?"

"No. The bombardment did us no harm. Our cruisers sank three Japanese

transports the other day, and they captured another of your ships with

contraband, the _Allanton_: you'll see her lying in the harbour now."

"Well, it appears to be lucky for us that the _Waverley_ was, in a

sense, on your side. About this consignment of flour: do you think you

can find an immediate purchaser? We want to realize and get away at

once."

The Russian's eyes gleamed, but his reply was cautious.

"Well, Ivan Ivanovitch, it is always more difficult to sell in a hurry

than if you can wait. A good profit can be made, but we must take our

time. It is a matter of bargaining. The man in a hurry always

suffers."

"Yes, I know. We must be prepared to sacrifice something. At the market

rate the flour ought to fetch about 27,000 roubles; but look here, if

you can find an immediate purchaser at 25,000 I'll let it go."

Orloff still hesitated, but Jack could see that he was making an effort

to restrain his eagerness.

"In business," he said, "it is best to be frank. If you will give me my

usual commission of two and a half per cent--what do you say to my

taking over the stuff myself?"

Jack smiled.

"I say that it pays very well to be principal and agent at the same

time. But we won't quarrel about the commission. If you'll write me a

cheque for 24,375 roubles, we'll call the matter settled. I've full

authority to act."

The Russian, looking as if he was sorry he had not improved the

opportunity still further, sat down at once and made out the cheque,

adding:

"There will be one or two papers to sign. I will get them from the

dockyard people."

"Very well. In the meantime I'll pay this into the bank and call back

as soon as I can."

"What is the hurry? Business is slack, and I suppose I shan't see you

again for a long time."

"Probably not. But there's a ring at your telephone. Evidently someone

wants to do business. I'll see you again shortly."

Orloff was disposed to be talkative, but Jack was on thorns lest the

train he had seen come in should have brought Sowinski. He had the

cheque; while in the train he had taken the vouchers from the sole of

his boot; he wondered whether he could complete his business at the bank

before Sowinski, supposing him to be in Vladivostok, should come upon

the scene. He hurried to the branch of the Russo-Chinese bank, where he

was well known to the officials. Business there also was slack; the

manager said indeed that trade in Vladivostok would be ruined if the war

continued much longer. Within half an hour, Jack left the building with

bills on Baring Brothers for the amount of the cheque and the sum

represented by the vouchers, less 2000 roubles in notes which he kept

for his immediate and contingent expenses.

He hurried back to Orloff's office, keeping a wary eye on the people

thronging the streets, among them many soldiers in the _pashalik_, their

characteristic peaked cap. When he entered the room, Orloff flung down

his pen and gave a shout of merriment.

"I must tell you the joke, Ivan Ivanovitch. Not five minutes after you

left, who should come in but Sowinski!" Jack repressed a start. "He

had happened to hear, he told me, that the _Waverley_ had arrived with a

consignment of flour for your father. Was I empowered to sell? Ha! ha!

It was not a matter of much consequence, he said. Ha! ha! I know

Sowinski. But, having a small contract to fulfil in a month's time at

Harbin, he could do with the flour, if it was to be had cheap. 'Mr.

Brown is leaving the country, I understand,' says he. Ha! ha!"

Sowinski had evidently not told Orloff of the arrest. Jack wondered for

a moment why. But the explanation at once suggested itself. If the

fact were known, the consignment would no doubt be impounded by the

Russian authorities in Vladivostok, and then the Pole would lose his

chance of making a profitable deal.

"I assure you I was not eager," continued Orloff, still laughing.

"Sowinski is no friend of mine. In the end he went down to the harbour,

inspected the consignment, and bought it for 27,000 roubles, the market

price, as you yourself mentioned."

"Quick returns and by no means small profits," said Jack.

"Yes. But--ha! ha!--what makes me laugh is something else. I was rung

up at the telephone--just as you went, you remember; two vessels had

been signalled from the mouth of the harbour carrying flour--not a

moderate consignment like yours, but a whole cargo each. You see, Ivan

Ivanovitch? The market price of Sowinski's lot will fall in an hour to

20,000 roubles, and it serves him right. How your father will laugh

when he learns how his rival has overreached himself! By the way, the

_Waverley_ is sailing this morning, in ballast of course."

"Indeed!" No information could have pleased Jack more. "Captain Fraser

is an old friend of ours. I should like to see him."

"Then you haven't much time to lose. But you may as well sign these

papers to complete our little transaction--the last, I am sorry to say.

You will be back again?"

"I am not sure. I am not staying in Vladivostok long, and I'll say

good-bye in case I don't get time to run in again."

"And when do you leave for home?"

"As soon as possible."

"By the Trans-Siberian, I suppose?"

"Probably; unless we can get through the lines to Newchang."

"That will be easy enough soon. Reinforcements are pouring in for

General Kuropatkin, and he'll soon be strong enough to drive those

waspish little yellow men into the sea."

"Perhaps. Well, good-bye, Alexey Petrovitch!"

"Remember me to your father."

"I will, the moment I see him. Good-bye!"

Leaving the office Jack hailed a droshky, and ordered the man to drive

down to the harbour. Knowing that Sowinski was actually in the town he

felt insecure with such valuable property in his pocket. As he stepped

into the vehicle he glanced round, and, forewarned though he was, he

started when he saw, a few yards up the street, the man he was anxious

to avoid hurrying in his direction. By the look on the Pole's face, and

his quickened step, Jack knew that he had been recognized. It was touch

and go now.

"Quick, my man!" he said quietly to the driver, "time presses."

The man, scenting a tip, whipped up his horse, and it sprang forward,

throwing Jack back into his seat. At the same moment he heard the Pole

shouting behind; but his voice was at once drowned by the clatter of the

wheels, and the droshky man, standing in the car, and driving with the

usual recklessness of the Russian coachman, was too much occupied in

avoiding the traffic to turn his head. Jack, however, a minute later

looked cautiously over the back of the vehicle. Sowinski, with urgent

gestures, was beckoning a droshky some distance up the street. He was

now nearly a quarter of a mile behind; and, turning a corner, Jack lost

him from sight. But the street he had now reached was a long straight

one, leading direct to the shore, and almost clear of traffic. In a few

seconds the pursuing droshky swung round the corner at a pace that left

Jack amazed it did not overturn. To throw the Pole off the scent was

impossible now; it was an open race. In two minutes Jack's droshky

rattled down the incline to the shore. He had the fare and a handsome

tip in readiness. Springing from the car almost before it had stopped,

he paid the man, leapt down the steps into a sampan, and called to the

burly Chinaman smoking in it:

"The English ship _Waverley_! A rouble if you put me aboard quickly."

The Chinaman looked stolidly up.

"She is about to sail, master. See! And they will not allow you on

board. There are difficulties. The port officers----"

Jack waited for no more. Taking a rouble note from his pocket, he

cried:

"Here is six times your fare; this or nothing!"

At the same time he seized the yuloh,--the pole that does duty for a

stern oar, and shoved off. There is nothing a Chinese coolie will not

do for a rouble. The man sprang to the oar, worked its flat end

backwards and forwards with all his strength, and sent the sampan over

the water at a greater speed than its clumsy build seemed capable of.

Jack kept his head low in order to be sheltered as long as possible by

the shanties on shore and the sampans crowded at the water's edge;

Sowinski, he felt, would not hesitate to take a shot at him. He could

see the Pole spring from his droshky and rush at break-neck pace towards

the waiting row of craft. He leapt into one, pointed Jack out to the

coolie, and in a few moments started in pursuit.

The _Waverley_ had left the inner harbour where merchant vessels drop

anchor, and was steaming dead slow out to sea. The captain stood on the

bridge, and the vessel hooted a farewell to the cruiser _Rurik_ that lay

in the middle of the channel. Suddenly Captain Fraser became aware that

the voice sounding clear across the still water was hailing him.

Glancing round, he saw a sampan making rapidly towards him from the

shore, and in it a youth with one hand to his mouth, the other waving

his hat. The captain first swore, then signalled half-speed ahead; it

was some Russian formality, he supposed, and as a British sailor he'd be

hanged if he delayed another moment for any foreign port officer. But

next moment he heard his own name in an unmistakably English accent,

and, looking more closely at the shouter, recognized him.

"Young Mr. Brown!" he muttered. "What's he wishing?"

At the same time he jerked the indicator back to "stop", a bell tinkled

below, and the vessel came to a stand-still.

"Ay, ay!" he shouted. "And be hanged if there isn't another man

bawling. What's in the wind, anyway?"

The first craft was soon alongside, a rope was heaved over, and in a few

seconds Jack stood on deck.

"Pleased to see you, Mr. Brown," said the Captain. "Ay, and I wouldna

have sto'ped for no ither man."

"Thanks, Captain! I want your help." Jack spoke hurriedly; the second

sampan was but a biscuit-shot distant. "The Russians have collared my

father on a charge of spying for the Japanese; I don't know where he is;

that fellow in the boat is at the bottom of it. I've managed to steal a

march on him and sell the flour you landed the other day, and I want you

to take charge of these bills and deposit them at the Hong-Kong and

Shanghai Bank for me."

"Eh, laddie, is that a fact? And what'll you do yersel' the now?"

"Oh, I'll stay and find my father. Here's Sowinski. I'm jolly glad I

got here first."

The other sampan was by this time under the vessel's quarter. A seaman

came up to the captain.

"A furriner, sir, talking double Dutch."

"Quay."

He left the bridge and went to the side.

"What might you be wishing the now?" he said.

Sowinski began to address him in very broken English, eked out with

French and Russian.

"I'm no' what you might ca' a leenguist," said the Captain, after a

patient hearing. "What'll he be meaning, Mr. Brown?"

"He says I'm a fugitive, and insists on your giving me up. If you

don't, he'll have the boat stopped at the signal station, and you'll be

heavily fined."

"He's a terrible man, yon; there's nae doot about it. Just tell him to

bide a wee, Mr. Brown, until you an' me has had a wee bit crack. Now,

sir," he added in a lower tone, when this had been interpreted to the

Pole, "hadn't ye better come wi' me now ye're aboard? If you go ashore

you may be caught. I'm no sure but we'll be overhauled by a Russian

cutter as we gang out, but I've no contraband aboard; in fact, I've run

a cargo in for the Russians, an' well they know it. Your father may be

half-way to Europe by this time; I canna see there'd be ony guid biding

to look for him."

"That's good of you, Captain, but I must stay. They say they've

deported my father; but somehow I feel sure he is still in the country,

and I shall try to hang on here by hook or crook till I find him."

"Aweel; then the best thing will be to get yon terrible Turk aboard.

Just ask him to step up, sir."

As Sowinski was clambering up the side the captain signalled the

engine-room to go ahead dead slow. He invited the Pole to join him on

the bridge. Captain Fraser looked him critically up and down; then said

blandly:

"And is it a port officer I'm to understand you are, Mister?"

"A port officer! Not so. I am man of affairs, business man. But in

name of his majesty ze Imperator I--I arrest zis young man."

"Just exactly. But I beg your pardon, Mister--Mister--what?"

"Sowinski."

"Just exactly. Well, then, Mr. Sowinski, do ye happen to have about ye

a warrant for the arrest o' this young man in the name o' the Imperator,

by which, I preshume, you mean the Czar? Where's your authority, man?"

The Pole looked puzzled.

"Audority! I have no audority. But I tell you, zis young man is

deported; he escape from arrestation; he----"

"Tuts! And you have the impidence to come aboard my ship: to haud me

up, a British subject; to cause loss to my owners--to my owners, I

say--without authority? I'll learn you, Mister, what it is to haud up a

British ship without authority. Hi, Jim! lug this man below, and if he

doesna behave himsel' just clap him under hatches."

Sowinski, wriggling desperately, and volubly protesting in half a dozen

languages, was bundled from the bridge.

"He's got the wrong sow by the lug in Duncan Fraser," said the captain,

with a grim tightening of the lips. "I'll just tak' him along to

Shanghai if the coast is clear, Mr. Brown, though I may have to drop him

a few miles lower down if I see signs of any Russians being

inqueesitive. And if you must go ashore, laddie, tak' a word frae

me--keep out o' the road o' the Russians."

"I'll be careful, Captain. When you get to Shanghai you'll tell our

consul all about it, and ask him to wire to England? The newspapers

will take it up, and I should think Lord Lansdowne will make official

enquiries at St. Petersburg."

"Ay, I'll do what I can. You're quite determined to bide?"

"Oh yes! And another thing, Captain: I think, if you don't mind, you'd

better let my mother know; she expects us home, and not hearing, would

be alarmed. Tell her not to worry; it's sure to come all right in the

end."

"Ay, I'll do that. I never heard the like o't. What the ballachulish

will the Russians be doing next! I needna say I wish ye good luck, sir.

Will you take a wee drappie?"

"Not to-day, Captain, many thanks all the same! A pleasant voyage to

you!"

Both sampans had kept pace with the steamer; the coolies were beginning

to be anxious about their fares. Jack bade his friend the captain a

cordial farewell; the vessel stopped; and, dropping into his sampan,

Jack ordered the man to put him ashore at the nearest point. Within a

yard of the shore the Chinaman brought the punt to a stop and demanded

two roubles.

"But the bargain was one."

"I did not know, Master. I do not risk offending the Russians for a

rouble. Give two, or I will not let you land."

He looked at Jack with victorious malice in his beady black eyes. For a

moment Jack hesitated; he did not wish to have an altercation with the

man; at the same time he objected to be "done". He stood up in the

sampan and drew a bundle of notes from his pocket. Selecting one, he

folded it; then, flinging it to the coolie, he sprang suddenly

overboard, giving the sampan a kick which sent it backwards. The man

also had risen; the sudden movement made him lose his balance, and he

fell over the yuloh into the water. Jack quietly walked away. As he did

so he heard loud laughter on his left hand. Turning, he saw that the

incident had been witnessed by two Russian officers who had been walking

towards the mouth of the harbour. Knowing the ways of the Chinese

coolie, they were much amused at the readiness with which Jack had

disposed of the boatman. One of them shouted "Well done!" in Russian.

Jack smiled, and replied with a couple of words in the same tongue; then

hurried on, thanking his stars that the matter had ended so well.

*CHAPTER VI*

*In Full Cry*

In Chinatown--A Deal in Horseflesh--North and by East--A Korean

Host--Across the Line--Buriats--Father Mayenube--Gabriele--A Shot--Hard

Pressed--In Hiding--Suggestio Falsi

Jack's business in Vladivostok was now completed. He had secured the

last of his father's property; bills representing several thousands of

pounds were in the safe hands of Captain Fraser, soon to be confided to

the Hong-Kong and Shanghai Bank. So far his task had been unexpectedly

easy; his difficulties, he felt, were now to begin. During the long

journey from Harbin he had spent hours endeavouring to think out a plan

to adopt if his secret visit to Vladivostok proved successful. By hook

or crook he must get back to Moukden and learn the result of the

compradore's enquiries; the question was, how? The return journey would

be attended by many difficulties; even if he should reach Moukden in

safety it would only be to find himself encompassed by danger. Yet he

saw no other chance of tracing his father, and whatever the risks and

perils, he felt that his duty called him to face them.

The first thing, then, was to make his way back to Moukden. To return

by the railway was out of the question. He dared not go openly, and he

knew no one in Vladivostok whom he could trust to negotiate for a

clandestine passage. His only course was to slip away, gain the

Manchurian frontier, and cross the Shan-yan-alin range of mountains--a

long and difficult journey at the best, and in the present circumstances

hazardous in the extreme. If he evaded the Russians in and around

Vladivostok he would still be exposed to capture by Chinese bandits, to

say nothing of the tenfold risks as he neared his journey's end.

His difficulties were intensified by the desperately short notice at

which he must now quit Vladivostok. Sowinski, furious at being

outwitted in the matter of the bills, would be goaded to madness by his

detention on board the _Waverley_, and as Captain Fraser would probably

consider it prudent to put him ashore at no great distance, it might not

be long before he telephoned to head-quarters and thus raised the hue

and cry in Vladivostok itself. To the natives Jack might easily pass

for a Russian; carefully made up, he might, with his smattering of

Chinese, be taken by the Russians for a native. But there was no time

for such preparations; and a Russian policeman on the hunt for an

Englishman, with the Pole's description of him, must be an exceptionally

incompetent member of his class if he failed to recognize the fugitive.

Speed was thus the first essential.