Read Held by Chinese Brigands Page 21


  CHAPTER XXI--OF THE GLADE OF CHILDREN'S TEARS

  Frank had neither time to consider the extraordinary sequence of eventsnarrated in the previous chapter nor the slightest inclination tospeculate in regard to the future. He realised, somewhat dimly, that hewas no more than a pawn in the game. A few moments since, he had stooddefenceless in the stifling atmosphere of the opium den; he had beheldthe knife raised to strike him down. He had been delivered withdramatic suddenness at the eleventh hour. At the same time, he couldnot help realising that, in all probability, he had fallen out of thefrying-pan into the fire. If his deception had been detected byCheong-Chau, his identity had also been discovered by the formidableLing.

  In the meantime he was being carried away to some unknown destination.The boy realised the futility of attempting to struggle, and if he criedout for help in those dark streets, no one was likely to take the leastnotice of him.

  Ling kept--so far as he was able--to the by-streets: the narrow,twisting lanes that form a veritable labyrinth in the poorer parts ofthis wonderful and mysterious city. The hour was tolerablylate--approaching midnight. The main streets were lighted by means ofthe flares in the shops and upon the hawkers' booths; and when it wasnecessary to cross one of these, the spectacle of the great Honanesecarrying under his arm one who was apparently a foreign boy, dressed inChinese clothes, attracted no little attention. However, with everyChinaman it is a fixed principle of life to mind his own affairs, and noone interfered.

  At last, Ling set down the boy upon his feet, and taking hold of him bya wrist, proceeded to drag him forward. Presently they came forth uponthe outskirts of the town. It was a bright night; for though the moonwas on the wane, the sky was clear and there was a glorious canopy ofstars--stars such as can only be seen east of the Suez Canal. The boywas able to make out the great gabled tower, situated upon a hillock tothe north of the city, which goes by the name of the Five-StoriedPagoda. He remembered very well visiting this place, a few weeksbefore, accompanied by Mr Waldron and his uncle.

  Ling took a bridle path leading directly to the north, lying in abee-line across the down-like hills. The man strode forward, walking atsuch a great pace that Frank was obliged to run to keep up with him. Allthis time he said nothing. He walked, staring straight in front ofhim--a gaunt, sinister and gigantic figure. Never for a moment did herelease his hold of Frank's wrist, which felt as if it was held within avice.

  After a time they came to a river, or canal. Since the path ledstraight into the water and was visible in continuation upon the otherbank, it was evident that there was a ford. Ling hesitated a moment,and then, hoisting his captive upon his shoulder, carried him high anddry to the other side, himself wading in water that reached to hisknees. Beyond, he once more set down Frank upon the ground; and theywent forward at the same steady pace. And at every step the watersquelched in the soft felt shoes the Chinaman was wearing.

  At the end of an hour, Frank was beginning to feel fatigued; he wasconsiderably out of breath. Ling, on the other hand, appeared to be inno way exhausted. They came to a hut--the habitation, in allprobability, of some swineherd or peasant.

  Ling kicked open the door, and they found within an old man, verydisreputable and dirty, clothed in rags, sound asleep before the glowingembers of a charcoal fire.

  Ling touched the sleeper upon the shoulder, and the old man sat up.

  "The mighty Ling!" he exclaimed, the moment he saw his visitor.

  "Peace," said Ling. "I come in peace, my friend. You need not bediscomfited. I ask for nothing more than you can give me."

  The old man, who had now risen to his feet, bowed low.

  "A mandarin of the Blue Button has but to speak," said he. "Who is amere drover of foul pigs to gainsay the word of so distinguished apersonage? Is it food you desire, or water, or an hour's rest upon yourjourney? All I have, sir, is your own."

  "I want that which will cost you nothing," answered Ling. "This willnot be the first time that you have aided me. I will reward you--at alater date--if all goes well with me."

  "May the gods assist you," said the old man, bowing again.

  "I rely upon myself," said Ling. "Tell me, Cheong-Chau's men have comefrom the mountains. They are reported on the Sang River. Have you seenanything of them?"

  "I have indeed," said the other. "There is a junk anchored about three_li_ west of the tower. I saw it this afternoon."

  "Did you notice how many men were on board?"

  "About five or six," said the old man.

  "That agrees," said Ling, "with what I already know."

  He remained silent for a moment, and then suddenly grasped Frank by anarm and thrust him through the door.

  "Come!" he cried. "We have no time to lose."

  The next moment Frank Armitage was on the road again, and throughout theearly hours of the morning he continued to travel northward, in companywith his grim and silent captor. Once the boy dared to speak, askingLing where they were going; but he was at once ordered to hold histongue.

  "You need what breath you have," observed the Honanese. "I am not hereto answer questions."

  There was more than a little truth in the first remark, for the boy wasobliged to keep up a steady jog-trot mile after mile, with never a haltor a rest by the wayside.

  Presently they gained the crest of a chain of low-lying hills. Themoonlight was sufficient to enable them to see for a considerabledistance. Before them lay a valley--so far as Frank could makeout--exceedingly fertile and picturesque, in which was a tall, thintower, somewhat resembling a short factory chimney, except that at thetop there was a narrow, circular balcony protected both from the rainand the powerful rays of the sun by one of those queer-shaped,overhanging roofs that are peculiar to Southern China.

  Frank knew at a glance that this was the tower from which, in days goneby, it had been the custom of the Cantonese to throw little children,whose existence had grown irksome to their parents. At one time thisbarbarous and terrible custom was prevalent in the Middle Kingdom, untilfinally even the Chinese themselves revolted against the laws thatpermitted such a crime.

  Flooded by the pure light of the moon, the valley appeared a perfecthaven of rest. No one would have believed that such a beautiful spothad, in former times, been the scene of such terrible brutality. Thetall tower shone like brass, and at its feet the broad waters of theSang River flowed swiftly to the west.

  Ling, still dragging Frank forward, descended the hill, and then turnedto the right, towards a clump of trees. It was then, for the first timesince they had left Canton, that, of his own accord, he spoke to hisprisoner.

  "Here is the place," he cried. "The Glade of Children's Tears. Here itis that Cheong-Chau's ransom money will be hidden."

  Frank did not think it advisable to answer. Ling no longer held him bya wrist: such a precaution was now unnecessary. Frank could notpossibly escape.

  For a distance of about a hundred yards they walked in the heavy shadowsunder the branches of the trees, which were thick with leaves. And then,quite suddenly, they came once again into the bright moonlight, to findthemselves confronted by a scene which was both grotesque andpicturesque.

  In ancient times the place had evidently been the site of a temple, ofwhich only the ruined walls, a few stone steps and several flagstonesremained. Here and there, lying upon the ground, overgrown by weeds andunderwoods, were great broken, hideous idols, many of which were atleast twelve feet in length. In the ghostly moonlight, it was likelooking upon a scene which had been the battle-field of giants.

  It was manifest that Ling knew the place well, for he walked straight upto a great circular stone, considerably darker in colour than thesurrounding brickwork and rocks. Though this stone must have been ofenormous weight, he rolled it away without difficulty. Beneath was alarge hole. Going down upon his knees, the man struck a match, thelight of which dimly illumined a vault as large as an ordinary room.

  "Empty!" he exclaimed. "However,
I did not expect to find the moneyhere. It should arrive to-morrow, if my calculations are correct. I donot think that your friends will venture to waste time. Too much is atstake."

  "_My_ friends?" said Frank.

  "Exactly," said the other. "I was so fortunate as to discover who youare. I confess that for days you deceived me. I never dreamt for amoment that the boy whose services I enlisted in Sanshui was a European.I congratulate you upon your accent and your knowledge of the Cantoneselanguage. You speak it as well as I, who am a Northerner."

  "And why," asked Frank, "have you brought me here?" This was thequestion he had long been burning to ask.

  Ling shrugged his shoulders.

  "You may have deceived me," said he, "but I am not altogether a fool."

  And that, apparently, was all the reply he would condescend to give.

  "I fail to understand," said Frank.

  "Then you are very dense. Let me enlighten you: in a few hours, twentythousand dollars will be hidden in this place. That money is intendedfor Cheong-Chau. Cheong-Chau will not receive a cent."

  As he said these words, he rolled the stone back into its place.

  "Cheong-Chau's junk lies up-stream," he continued, once again as ifspeaking to himself. "He had ten men with him. He took three with himto Ah Wu's opium den. Of those three, I have accounted for one atleast, and I do not think the man I struck down with the lamp will befit to fight for many a day. In any case, neither those three men norCheong-Chau himself are here. There are therefore only seven on boardthe junk. It is now about three o'clock in the morning. Six of thoseseven men are sound asleep. I propose to take the junk by storm."

  "You mean," said Frank, "that you will do this--single-handed?"

  "I have this," said Ling. "If necessary, I shall use it."

  At that he produced the revolver he had taken from Yung How. He playedwith it for a moment in his great hands, and then put it back in hispocket.

  "I shall require the junk," he added, "in order to take the treasureaway. And even if I fail to get possession of it, I have you, my littleone, who are so clever. You are worth, to me, at least another twentythousand dollars."

  Frank saw the truth as in a flash: once again he was a hostage. Ling nodoubt intended to demand a second ransom as the price of the boy'sfreedom--perhaps his life. As the man remained silent for some minutes,Frank had the greater time to think the matter out. And the more hethought of it, the more was he obliged to admire the consummate subtletyof Ling, who had the faculty of grasping a situation without a moment'swaste of time, estimating the salient factors at their proper value.

  In the opium den, Frank's identity had been unmasked, and his lifethreatened in a period of time which could not have been more thanthirty or forty seconds. And yet, in those brief and breathlessseconds, Ling, in hiding behind the curtain, had summed up the positionat a glance. He had seen that Cheong-Chau--who for the moment was blindwith rage--was about to throw away a human life that was likely to beextremely valuable to himself. It was not a sense of humanity that hadprompted him to save the boy. He had done so for his own personal ends.

  "Come," he cried, "to the junk! I promise you I will flutter thedovecot. I will scatter them like ducks."

  At that he strode forward, followed by Frank, amazed at the man'scalmness and audacity.