CHAPTER V--HOW CHEONG-CHAU STRUCK AT DEAD OF NIGHT
It was late by the time Frank returned to the temple, where he found hisuncle and Mr Waldron engaged in an animated discussion upon the subjectof the untapped resources of China. The boy had taken some time toclimb down the mountain-side. Having no wish to fall into the hands ofthe scarlet-coated band who had descended into the valley to the south,he had given the bridle-path a wide berth, with the result that he hadbeen obliged to go down upon all fours, and descend stealthily foot byfoot.
He lost no time in relating to his uncle all that he had seen. Thejudge was somewhat surprised, but he did not show any signs of beingnervous.
"I trust they didn't see you, Frank?" he asked.
"I have no doubt as to that," replied the boy. "I remained hidden allthe time. Besides, they were immediately below me, and I should havenoticed if any man had looked up."
The judge shrugged his shoulders.
"All's well that ends well," said he. "Nevertheless we may considerourselves lucky. There can be no question that the party you saw wasone of the brigand bands that are said to infest these mountains. Weare far from civilisation. We could expect neither mercy norconsideration if we fell into the hands of such desperate rascals."
"Judge," said Mr Waldron, "it looks as if I may have a use for mysix-shooter after all."
"I don't think so," said the judge. "Frank was wise enough not to showhimself, and the men went down into the valley. There is no reason whythey should know anything about our presence in the neighbourhood."
It was then that Yung How appeared, silently, from the midst of the deepshadows beneath the temple ruins. He moved stealthily and withsomething of the supple grace of a cat.
"Master," said he, "dinner is served."
"Thank you," said the judge. But Yung How remained, his features calmand expressionless, a table-napkin thrown over his left forearm, afterthe manner of waiters all the world across.
"Guess," said Mr Waldron, "I shall sleep with my gun ready loaded."
"That is no more than a wise precaution," said the judge, "and we shouldbe well advised to post a sentry. We could divide the night into threewatches of three hours each. Frank, as the youngest, shall take thefirst watch, from nine to twelve; I myself propose to take the middlewatch, from twelve to three--unless you, Mr Waldron, would prefer it?"
"As you like, Judge," replied the American. "Early morning suits mewell enough. In the old days in Texas, six days out of seven I was inthe saddle before sunrise."
"Master," repeated Yung How, "dinner is served."
The judge whipped round upon his servant. "What are you doing here?" hedemanded. "You have announced dinner already. We are all hungry enoughnot to forget it."
"Very good dinner," said Yung How, lapsing into pidgin-English, andwithout moving a muscle of his face. "Hot soup, all belong one piecetin; number one fish, all belong river; two piece chicken and top-sideapricots, all belong tin, all same soup."
"And a very good dinner too," said the judge. "The sooner we get towork the better."
They dined by the light of a Chinese lantern suspended from one of thebranches of an almond-tree, beneath the temple wall, where they weresheltered from the cool evening breeze that was blowing from the west.The thin mountain air, after the insufferable, humid atmosphere of theriver valley, had served to give them a healthy appetite. The soup washalf cold, the chickens were very tough, and the West River fish tastedhorribly of mud; for all that, hungry men, encamped in a wilderness manymiles from the nearest outpost of civilisation, will regard such fare asdelicacies. They ate with a relish everything that Yung How placedbefore them, and washed down their meal with pannikins of crystal-clearwater from the mountain spring that flowed past the temple.
After dinner the judge lighted his pipe, and Mr Hennessy K. Waldron oneof his choice Manila cheroots. They talked of many things, but aboveall of China, of its immensity and mystery, its wealth, vitality, andfuture. And then the judge and Mr Waldron spread their blankets andlaid them down to sleep.
There is no life in the world to compare with that which is lived in theopen air. A moss-grown bank supplied a bed as comfortable as any springmattress. The wind, gently stirring the leaves of the trees, thedistant croaking of the frogs, and the singing of the crickets, combinedto form a sort of lullaby that soothed and enticed the wayfarers toslumber. There was no moon that night; but in a sky unbroken by asingle cloud, a gorgeous canopy of stars illumined a scene that mighthave made a fitting setting for a fairy-tale.
Frank Armitage selected his sentry-post at the foot of a great treeimmediately before the temple steps. Hence he was able to obtain a fairview both of the bivouac and the mountain slope to the south. Knowing,however, that it would be wise not to neglect the northern side of thetemple, he decided to patrol the entire building at least once everyquarter of an hour. Armed with Mr Waldron's revolver, he kept well inthe shade, knowing that a good sentry is one who observes withouthimself being seen.
An hour passed and then another hour, without the occurrence of anythingunusual. The judge and Mr Waldron were both sound asleep, the lattersnoring loudly. Yung How and his companion lay in the shadow of thetemple wall: the former curled up in his blankets, the coolie lying flatupon his back, his mouth wide open, dreaming, perhaps, that he was backin the Chinese quarter of Hong-Kong, where lived his wife and sevenchildren, all of whom he supported upon the astonishing sum--expressedin English coinage--of nineteen shillings a month.
Frank, as he went his rounds, frequently paused to listen. The frogsand the crickets continued their uproar. The wind murmured in thetrees; once or twice he could hear wild-duck flying high in the nightsky towards the north, towards the great marshes of the Yangtsi and theYellow River. But no other sound disturbed the silence of the night.
In course of time he came to consider the utmost vigilance unnecessary.He began to interest himself in trivial things. Mr Waldron had ceasedto snore and Yung How was engaged in a kind of duet with the coolie.They snored alternately, the one on a deeper note than the other. Frankpaused upon one of his rounds and stood for a moment looking down uponthe two sleeping Chinese, thinking how vastly different from himselfthey were. Then he passed on upon his way, conscious that as the hourgrew later the air was becoming colder. On that account, it wasadvisable to keep moving. He walked round the front of the temple,across the great stone steps leading to the entrance, and found himselfon the farther side of the ruined, rambling building. There, in thedeep shadow of a tall, gabled gateway, he stopped quite suddenly,thinking that he had heard a twig snap underfoot.
He was so sure of this that almost at once he became aware that hisheart was beating rapidly. He held the revolver in his hand, grippingthe handle tightly. The starlight enabled him to see a considerabledistance, except where the shadows were deep under the temple wallitself and beneath the trees.
At his right hand was a massive stone pillar that supported the roof ofthe gateway. He stood stock-still, listening; and then, close to him,he heard a sound that might have been the wind, but which, on the otherhand, might have been the heavy breathing of a man. As quick asthought, he stepped behind the pillar, and at once, quite suddenly, andyet without noise or violence, his revolver was taken from his hand.
For the fraction of a second he was too astonished to cry out. He tooka quick step backward, which brought him into the starlight, and at thatmoment both his wrists were grasped, and he beheld before him a face,sinister, fierce, and yet expressionless. It was the face of Yung How,his uncle's servant.
He let out a shout, a loud cry for help--a shout that was stifled in asecond. Someone had seized him from behind. The palm of a hand wasplaced so tightly upon his mouth that he found it difficult to breathe.
For a moment he endeavoured to struggle, but soon realised theuselessness of an attempt to extricate himself by physical force. Hehad been seized by at least three men; and almost before he had time torecover from
his surprise, he was thrown violently upon the ground, hishands bound behind his back, and a gag thrust between his teeth.
He lay quite motionless, wondering what had happened, and what wouldhappen next. Men were talking in whispers in harsh Cantonese voices,but too softly for him to catch the meaning of their words.
He was bidden rise. He hesitated a moment, and was then lifted bodilyto be dumped down upon his feet. He found himself confronted by aChinaman who was small in stature, the skin of whose face was wrinkledand weather-beaten. This man wore a scarlet coat, richly embroideredwith gold thread that glittered in the starlight. He came quite closeto Frank, and peered into the boy's face, grinning from ear to ear,showing dirty, fang-like teeth--teeth that resembled those of a dog.
The boy turned away in disgust, and looked straight into the face ofYung How. Yung How neither smiled nor lowered his eyes. He appeared tobe neither delighted nor ashamed. His features were expressionless; hiseyes looked straight into Frank's. Behind Yung How stood some twentymen, all dressed in scarlet coats. Frank took them in at a glance, andthe thought flashed across his mind that it would be difficult to selectfrom the party the one who appeared the greatest villain, whosecountenance was the most hideous and repulsive. They were Cantonese ofthe coolie class, high of cheek-bone, with low, receding foreheads, andcruel, snake-like eyes.
The man who was wearing the gold embroidered coat turned and walkedrapidly towards the temple steps, ordering the others to follow him.Frank was led forward, a great raw-boned Chinaman on either side of him,each of whom grasped him tightly by an arm. He was made to ascend thesteps, and was brought to a halt in the shadow of the porchway of thetemple.
Hence he could look down upon the sheltered glade where he and hisfriends had been encamped for two days. In the starlight he could seethe figures of his uncle and Mr Waldron, both of whom were still fastasleep.
So far, all that had happened had come to pass so rapidly that Frank hadnot had time to feel alarmed. But now, when he beheld his uncle--as hehad every reason to believe--in the greatest danger, he was filled withapprehension. He made a lurch forward as if he would escape--for hisfeet had not been bound--but he was at once roughly thrown back by themen who guarded him, one of whom struck him a violent blow in the face.
At that moment it was as if the boy was incapable of feeling physicalpain or moral indignation. He was filled with remorse. He had beengiven a position of responsibility and trust--and he had failedpitifully. And now, perhaps his uncle's life was in danger.
He was obliged to remain an impotent and conscience-stricken spectatorof the scene that followed. He could neither cry out nor hasten to theassistance of his friends. He saw both his uncle and Mr Waldron seizedwhilst they were sound asleep, handled roughly by savage, lawless men;gagged and bound, and then led into the great hall of the temple.
As soon as they were all inside, about a dozen torches were lit, andthese were planted upright between the stone flags that paved the floor;so that they resembled as many candles, illuminating that fantastic,mediaeval chamber.
Indeed, it is almost impossible to imagine a scene more weird anddream-like. The three captives in the centre of the hall; theevil-looking, criminal faces of the brigands, made to look even morealarming and sinister by the flickering light of the torches; and aroundthat great, dingy room, the implacable, sedate, inevitable figures ofthe Chinese gods and goddesses, over whom presided the huge Buddha,seated cross-legged upon a stone plinth, immediately opposite theentrance.
Frank Armitage caught his uncle's eye. He tried his utmost to convey ina glance the remorse and anguish he endured. Sir Thomas must haveunderstood him, for he slowly shook his head. Then someone from theback of the room commanded that everyone should be seated; and when thisorder had been complied with, one man alone remained upon his feet.This was he whose scarlet coat was embroidered heavily with gold, whonow stepped into the centre of the circle, where he stood in the fulllight of the torches.
"I am Cheong-Chau," he cried. "And those who fall into the hands ofCheong-Chau must pay in silver _taels_ or else in blood."