CHAPTER VII--HOW THE LETTER WAS WRITTEN
Neither the judge nor Mr Waldron desired so much as ten minutes in whichto arrive at a decision. Twenty thousand dollars is by no means animpossible sum to a man who is a millionaire. Even the judge himselfwould have found little difficulty in producing the money with a fewdays' notice.
Cheong-Chau, and even Yung How, who was more conversant with the mannersand customs of Europeans, had underestimated the wealth of Mr Waldron.To them twenty thousand dollars represented almost fabulous wealth. Itnever occurred to them that they might have asked twice as much, andsecured it with no greater difficulty; for we meet the real miser morein fiction and in fable than in real life, and there are few men whowill not part readily with the whole of their fortune in exchange forthe most valuable of all human possessions: life, the right to walk uponthe face of the earth, to breathe the air of heaven.
Cheong-Chau re-entered the cave, holding in the palm of his hand thegold watch he had stolen from Mr Waldron.
"Ten minutes," said he. "I trust you are ready with your answer."
Men-Ching stood at his side, and behind his back was a score of hisruffians, each man with a naked sword.
"We have considered your proposal," said the judge, "and we agree toit." He spoke the Cantonese language with difficulty, and hispronunciation was faulty. However, there is little doubt thatCheong-Chau understood him, for the man nodded his head with an air ofsatisfaction.
"You are wise," said he. "Rumour has not lied."
"One moment," said Sir Thomas, taking him up. "There is one question wewould ask you. If the money is sent from Hong-Kong, and taken in safetyto your hiding-place, what guarantee do you propose to give us that youwill set us at liberty or even spare our lives?"
"How would I gain by killing you?" asked the bandit, with a shrug of hisnarrow shoulders.
"I have lived in China," said the judge, "for more than thirty years. Iknow that there are men in this country--and I see no reason why youshould not be numbered amongst them--to whom murder is a pastime, whokill for the sake of killing, who derive a fiendish pleasure fromtorturing the innocent."
Cheong-Chau carried a hand to his face and stroked his wrinkled chin.
"I see that you are prudent," said he. "For myself, I never bargainwith fools."
"Do you mean," asked the judge, "if the conditions are fulfilled on ourpart, you will guarantee our safety?"
"I mean no such thing," said Cheong-Chau. "I guarantee nothing."
"Then we have naught to rely upon," the judge answered, "but youroath--the oath of a robber?"
"That is so," said the other.
"And may I ask," said the judge, "how much Cheong-Chau reverences theFive Sacred Books?"
The Chinese answered nothing, but stretched forth a hand, anddeliberately snapped his fingers.
Sir Thomas shrugged his shoulders and turned away.
"We must make the best of a bad business," said he to Mr Waldron. "Itell you frankly, I don't trust these men. I know what such scoundrelsare."
He spoke in English, and whilst he did so was conscious of a gentletouch upon the shoulder. He turned and beheld Men-Ching, who presentedhim with a brass Chinese ink-box, a large piece of rice-paper and awriting-brush. "Write your letter," said the old man, "to the EnglishViceroy of Hong-Kong. Tell him that the sum of twenty thousand dollars,in silver, must be hidden under the red stone in the Glade of Children'sTears, before the waning of the moon."
"Where is this place?" asked Sir Thomas.
"On the Sang-kiang, five Chinese _li_ to the north of the city ofCanton. A narrow path leads due north from the Five-Storied Pagoda.This path crosses the hills and descends into the valley of the SangRiver--a very beauteous place."
"Are they long _li_?" asked Sir Thomas, understanding well the vaguenessof all Chinese measurements, "or short _li_?"
"They are short _li_," answered Men-Ching, "for the road runs up-hilluntil you come to the last _li_, where the traveller descends into awide valley of ricefields and fruit trees, li-chi and mango. In theSang valley there is a tall tower, from the top of which, in days goneby, fathers were wont to throw the she-children they could not afford tokeep. A woman child is no use in the world. From the day of her birthto the day of her death she does little else but talk. On the west sideof the tower is a small wood, and in the centre of this wood is a gladewhere the birds sing in summer-time, whilst the water of the river makessweet and pleasant music. In the glade are rocks; but in one placethere is a great red stone, almost round. Two strong men can roll itaway from the place where it is; but they must use all their strength.And when the red stone is rolled away, it will be seen that it restsupon a great hole in the ground. It is like the lid of a kettle.Inside this hole there is room enough for twenty thousand dollars."
The judge had listened intently, committing each detail to memory. Alittle after, Men-Ching left the cave, and the three white men foundthemselves together. Sir Thomas turned to his nephew.
"Did you hear what the rascal said, Frank?" he asked.
"Every word," replied the boy.
"And you remember it all?"
Frank nodded.
"Then," said the judge, "help me to write this letter. It will be by nomeans easy to write. I shall have to explain matters very clearly toSir John, and I've got to write it with a brush."
In the temple they had been deprived of their pencils and notebooks, andeverything else their pockets contained, and these had not been broughtby Cheong-Chau to the cave. Otherwise Sir Thomas might have asked forhis own fountain pen. As it was, he was now obliged to write in Englishcharacters with a Chinese brush, and this was a tedious business. Inthe end, however, the letter was written, covering in all five pages ofChinese rice-paper, in shape longer than foolscap, but not so broad.
Sir Thomas had written fully. He had explained where and by whom theyhad been captured; he even went so far as to give the name of the banditchieftain and to relate how he had been betrayed by his own personalservant, Yung How. He said that he had not the slightest doubt that, ifthe rascals were not paid in full upon the stroke of time, the three ofthem would be ruthlessly put to death. He ended the letter byexplaining the exact whereabouts of the "Glade of Children's Tears,"describing the red stone beneath which the ransom money was to behidden. He also expressed the opinion that it would be useless toendeavour to capture the brigands in the neighbourhood of the gladeitself, and he strongly advised the Governor not to attempt to lay anambush. He pointed out that such a plan would most assuredly fail,since the Chinese were sure to exercise the utmost caution, and to havespies in the neighbourhood. Moreover, the discovery of such a planwould undoubtedly lead to the immediate death of Sir Thomas himself andhis companions. It would be time enough to think of reprisals, oftaking steps to track down the brigands, after the judge and his partyhad returned safely to the island.
As the judge wrote, aided by the flickering light of a torch, Frank andMr Waldron looked over his shoulder, each offering occasionalsuggestions.
"Do I understand," asked Mr Waldron, "that you don't trust thesefellows?"
"I am afraid I am very far from trusting them," replied the judge. "Menof this type, in this mysterious, savage country, are as often as notwithout honour, cruel beyond description, and incapable of showingmercy. Moreover, in moments of delight--I know for a fact--they arecapable of committing the most terrible atrocities. I don't wish toalarm you unnecessarily, Mr Waldron, but I tell you honestly that I fearthe future. Sir John will send the money, provided the letter reacheshim in safety--which I have no doubt it will. But once the money is inCheong-Chau's possession, it is quite possible he will kill us, out ofsheer devilry, in the moment of his triumph."
Mr Waldron thrust his hands into his trousers pockets, and shaped hislips as if he desired to whistle. No sound, however, came from hislips. He paced backwards and forwards in the cave like a wild beastthat is hungry. For all that, upon his clear-cut, regular
featuresthere was no sign of apprehension. His manner suggested impatience morethan fear.
"It's just cruel luck," said he, as though he were speaking to himself."Guess I can't look upon it in any other light. Why did I leaveParadise City!"
"There's not much paradise about this," said Frank, taking in his hand aburnt stick and stirring the embers of the fire. A flame sprang forththat illumined the rugged walls of the cave. Here and there upon thehard rock were narrow, streaky grooves, where the moisture had trickleddown.
"We're helpless," Mr Waldron burst out, "helpless as the little childrenthese fiends used to throw from the top of that tower. That's what getsme on the raw, Judge. I never before felt helpless. In the course ofmy life, I have found myself in a great many awkward places; but I havealways been able to see a way out and I have made good in the end. Thisthing's different. Hennessy K. Waldron may be a great man in the stateof Nevada; but in this blamed country I guess he don't count more than acopper cash."
And Mr Hennessy K. Waldron was about right--a copper cash, in thecoinage of China, having the approximate value of the fifth part of afarthing.