CHAPTER VIII--AND HOW FRANK RESOLVED TO FOLLOW IT
That same evening, Men-Ching, accompanied by another man, set forth uponhis journey to the south. It was calculated that he could reach theriver in five days, though to do so he would have to travel by night aswell as day. The prisoners had little doubt that he would find ariver-junk at Pinglo or at some other river-side village where thebrigands had established outposts. With the help of the current and afavourable wind, he could reach Canton in a few days, and thence thelast stage of the journey could be completed by steam-boat--shipsleaving Canton for Hong-Kong at least twice a day.
There was, therefore, plenty of time--provided no mishap befell him--forMen-Ching to fulfil his mission. Cheong-Chau, who knew his business,had taken steps to convince the Governor that the plight of the judgewas genuine. He had included in the envelope containing his own lettera gold signet ring, which he himself had taken from the finger of SirThomas.
When Men-Ching left the cave it was raining hard. He brought the twoletters to the fireside, desiring in all probability to satisfy theprisoners that there was to be no mistake, that he was not going to takeany risks. He took off his faded scarlet coat, ripped up the liningwith a sharp knife, and sewed the letters inside. That done, he tied asash around his waist, threw a straw raincoat across his shoulders, andput on a large straw hat such as the coolies wear when at work in thesouthern ricefields. Then he and his companion departed, Men-Chingcarrying in his hand a long stick. They followed the narrow path thattraversed that bare, desolate region, at one moment on the crest-line ofa watershed, at another upon the very brink of a precipice.
The rain descended in torrents, shutting out completely the last rays ofthe setting sun. A great darkness descended upon the wilderness. Thewater in the gullies and ravines mounted with the rapidity ofquicksilver; and presently the night was alive with savage, discordantsounds: the wind howling amongst the rocks, the roar of cataracts,turbulent streams plunging, as if demented, down the mountain-side. Butin spite of the darkness and the rain, Men-Ching and his companioncontinued to move rapidly towards the south. He was an old man, as weknow, but he was by no means inactive. Also, he knew every inch of theroad. It was probably for that reason that Cheong-Chau had selected himto undertake the journey.
They did not halt to rest until many hours after daybreak, and thensnatched only a few hours' sleep, after eating a handful of rice. Thestorm had cleared. Men-Ching took off his raincoat, and stretched itout upon the ground, in order that it might dry in the sun. Placingboth his hands upon his faded scarlet coat, he expressed the greatestsatisfaction to find that it was absolutely dry. The letters were safe;he could feel them inside the lining. There was no chance that the rainhad washed out the ink. Indeed, in the whole world, there is probablyno more efficient waterproof garment than the straw raincoat of the FarEast.
In course of time Men-Ching gained the southern extremity of theNan-ling Mountains, at a place not far from the town of Pinglo. Therich, fertile valley lay before him, extending as far as the eye couldreach. He had left behind him China, the desolate, the barbarous, theunknown; before him lay China, the civilised, the prosperous, the landof ceaseless industry and untold wealth.
And there, for the time being, we may leave him, still travellingtowards the south upon his robber's errand. We will leave him to hisfate, to the mercy of the heathen gods he may or may not haveworshipped. His destiny was already sealed, though little did Men-Chingdream that that was so.
In the cave, day followed day, so far as the captives were concerned,with the same dreary monotony; the same fears and half-foolish hopes.They could take no exercise, and they had no books to read. There wasnothing for them to do but to talk, to discuss amongst themselves thetragedy of their position.
And as time passed they had less and less reason to trust Cheong-Chau,to think that they could rely upon his word. The man proved himself areprobate. He was an opium drunkard; and that is a thing not so commonin China as the majority of Europeans imagine.
It is true that opium is smoked throughout the length and breadth of theEast. Indeed, the opium pipe in China is the equivalent to the Britishworkman's glass of beer, and opium dens in that country are as common aspublic-houses in this.
At the same time, most Chinese are only moderate smokers. They do notsmoke enough opium even to injure their health. The reason for this isobvious: opium, even in China, is very expensive, and the ordinary mancannot afford to buy much of it. Neither does opium happen to be a drugthat does a great deal of harm unless it is taken in excess; it probablydoes infinitely less harm than alcohol. If taken in large doses,however, its results are disastrous and terrible.
For some reason or other--never explained by physiologists--repeateddoses of opium sap the moral fibre. A man begins to smoke opium in asmall way, but after a time he finds that he has to smoke double thequantity of pipes in order to get the desired result. And so on, untilhe finds himself taking doses that would kill one who was not inured tothe drug. By that time he has lost everything a man should value most:his sense of honour, his will power, much of his physical strength, andhis power of concentration. He is a degenerate whose mind is filledwith the foulest, most perverted fancies, who is a stranger to truth,and who delights as often as not in committing the most fiendish ofcrimes.
Now Cheong-Chau was evidently such a man; for one night he rolled intothe cave, awakening his captives--who for many hours had been fastasleep--by the blasphemy and violence of his language. His gait wasunsteady; the pupils of his eyes, visible in the bright light of thefire, were small as pinheads. He carried in his hand a naked sword.
"I am Cheong-Chau," he shrieked. "Death to all foreign devils who dareset foot upon the sacred soil of China!"
Bursting into a loud laugh, he raised his sword as if he would strikedown Mr Waldron, who had risen to his feet.
"Stay," cried the judge. "Have we not your oath--that if the money ispaid you will not stain your hands in blood?"
"Oath!" cried the robber. "What are oaths and blood to me? Am I aCanton flower-girl or a Buddhist priest that I should not shed bloodwhen the fancy takes me? Know that I am Cheong-Chau, the robber, whocares for neither oaths nor gods nor men."
For some reason or other he had singled out the American; and it lookedmost certain that, at that moment, the life of Mr Hennessy K. Waldronwas in the greatest danger. However, Mr Waldron never moved an inch; heneither drew back nor showed the slightest sign of alarm. He held hisground, staring the villain boldly in the face.
MR. WALDRON NEVER MOVED AN INCH.]
It was, in all probability, solely his courage that saved him. TheChinese was so low down in the scale of humanity that he was not farremoved from the beasts; and it is well known that no animal can for anylength of time look a strong man in the eyes. The eyes of Mr Waldronwere those of one who had carved a way for himself in the world,who--starting life in a very humble sphere--had conquered a thousanddifficulties; thereby proving himself a strong man who could not fail tobe conscious of his strength.
Cheong-Chau was unable to maintain his threatening and defiant attitudebefore that steel-grey, steady gaze. Slowly his sword descended; hiseyes dropped to the ground. Mr Waldron, with admirable calmness,deliberately placed a hand upon the man's shoulder, and addressed him inthe English language in a tone that was even kindly.
"Say, old cockolorum," said he, "you ought to retire from business.You're doing yourself no good, you know. Guess you want a good sixweeks at some quiet seaside resort, where there's no more excitementthan a dance-hall or a merry-go-round. Take the missus and the kids."
Cheong-Chau turned away with an oath. No doubt he supposed that MrWaldron had delivered a brief speech, somewhat in the tragic vein,suitable to the occasion; for neither in the expression upon theAmerican's face nor in the serious tones of his voice was there anythingto convey the intelligence that Mr Waldron was disposed to be frivolous.
For all that, they cou
ld not overlook the fact that, whether or not theransom were paid, their lives were in the greatest danger. The man whoheld them in his power was subject to ungovernable fits of wrath, duringwhich his mental condition bordered upon that type of insanity which isinseparable from the truly criminal character. At such times--whichinvariably followed a debauch of opium smoking--Cheong-Chau wascertainly not responsible for his actions; and discussing the questionamong themselves, they came to the conclusion that at any moment theorder to murder them might be issued. By no such act of treachery couldthe brigand forfeit the ransom, since both the prisoners and Cheong-Chauhimself had no means of direct communication with Hong-Kong. Men-Chingshould be now well upon his way, approaching the city of Canton.
It was Mr Waldron who suggested that one of them should endeavour toescape. At first, this idea struck the judge as a piece of outrageousfolly, since if one of the three even did succeed in getting away fromthe cave and crossing the mountains--a very unlikely contingency--themurderous Cheong-Chau would be so furious that he would probably nothesitate to make short work of the unfortunate two who remained. Ondebating the matter, however, Mr Waldron was able to throw quite anotherlight upon the situation.
He explained that if a survivor reached Hong-Kong who could not onlyidentify Cheong-Chau himself and the majority of his men, but who couldactually guide an avenging expedition to the neighbourhood of the cave,the brigands would be hunted from pillar to post, and if not captured,certainly driven from the province. The robber could not be unawarethat in the British colony were both English and Indian troops, whilst alarge fleet lay at anchor in the harbour, and he must have known enoughof the British Government to remember that the cold-blooded murder ofBritish citizens was an act not likely to be overlooked. He could notwish to involve both himself and the members of his gang ininternational complications. He would therefore, in all probability,hesitate to do away with his captives.
It is true that an attempt to escape might fail, in which case theplight of the prisoners would be, if anything, somewhat worse. But inany case, as day succeeded day, they became more and more convinced thatCheong-Chau intended to kill them. He did but bide his time, waiting tohear news of Men-Ching to the effect that the ransom had been duly paid.For these reasons it was eventually decided that one of them shouldendeavour to escape.
It was next necessary to settle who should go. The judge himself wastoo old to attempt to cross the mountains alone upon so long andhazardous a journey. The choice, therefore, lay between Frank Armitageand Mr Waldron.
The American--who had already proved himself a man of the greatestcourage, both physical and moral--was naturally anxious to take the riskhimself. However, he could not be blind to the fact that he labouredunder several very serious disadvantages.
In the first place, he was entirely ignorant of both the language andthe country. He knew neither the habits and customs of the people northe topography of Southern China. Frank, on the other hand, had beenborn and had lived all his life in China; on many a former occasion hehad proved himself quite capable of conversing even with the mostuntutored and obstinate peasants. Moreover, the boy was the most activemember of the party: he was a good runner; he could climb, if necessary,to the top of mountain peaks, and he was an adept at swimming--animportant item, since he might have to cross the West River, as well asseveral tributaries, in order to reach Canton or the coast.
It was this consideration that settled the question in the mind of MrWaldron. The American was obliged to confess that he could not swimexcept for a short distance in salt water. If he endeavoured to crossthe strong current of a great river without even taking his clothes off,he would most assuredly drown.
"And in that case," he observed, "I might as well have stayed here tohave my throat cut in my sleep, or sample the death by a thousand cuts."
He spoke of such atrocities as if they were nothing. He was so calmabout it all that the judge looked at him, wondering whether he was oneof the few really brave men in the world, or whether he was entirelydevoid of imagination. In any case, Mr Waldron withdrew his claim to beallowed to undertake the adventure; and the choice fell upon Frank.
Once this all-important question was settled, it was obvious that therewas nothing to be gained--indeed, there was much to lose--by putting offFrank's departure. The sooner he was away the better, though they didnot then realise the supreme importance of time, the alarming fact thatthe lives both of Sir Thomas and Mr Waldron were to hang upon the thinthread of a few seconds.
It was decided that Frank should endeavour to make his escape from thecave that night. It was in the act of passing the sentries, posted atthe entrance, that the bulk of his danger would lie. Once the boysucceeded in getting away from the cave, his absence would probably notbe discovered until the following morning. He would, in that case, haveseveral hours' start of any pursuers whom Cheong-Chau might think fit tosend after him.
Frank had already considered the contingency of making a dash forliberty. He had, so far as he had been able to do so from the interiorof the cave, studied the lie of the land. He had noticed that thesentries were not particularly vigilant and that they were armed withold-fashioned, out-of-date fire-arms which they possibly knew not how touse. One of these was a Martini-Henry carbine, and Frank had on oneoccasion seen a Chinese trying in vain to lower the lever, which was sorusted on to the lock that it was quite certain that the breech couldnever be opened.
Immediately before the entrance to the cave was the huge boulder, orrock, which has already been described. On either side of this rock asentry was always posted. But these men did not necessarily face thecave. Indeed, as often as not, they looked the other way, interestingthemselves in the wide panorama extended before them. None the less,since the two passages on either side of the boulder were very narrow,one could never hope to pass without being seen. Escape that way,therefore, was impossible without a struggle, which meant that the alarmwould be given and a party would immediately start in pursuit of thefugitive.
This was what Frank most wanted to avoid. He knew that his attempt wasdoomed to failure if he did not succeed in getting well away. Hetherefore examined the rock itself, and saw at once that it would bequite easy to climb to the top of it. Since he could not pass _round_this obstacle he would have to go _over_ it. On the other side, as heknew, was the steep mountain slope descending hundreds of feet to thebed of the valley. Whether he could climb down the slope at all, muchless do so silently, so as not to be overheard by the sentries, wasanother question. He was resolved, however, to take the risk. It wasclear that there was no other alternative. It was a perilous business,but he must make the best of it, trusting to Providence, as well as hisown agility and presence of mind.