CHAPTER IX--OF THE HOSPITALITY OF THE TEA-GROWER
They waited until nearly midnight, when Cheong-Chau and his ruffianswere sound asleep, and only the sentries awake. That day, both SirThomas and Mr Waldron had eaten no food since the morning meal, so thatFrank might not set forth upon his journey unprovided. He wouldcertainly not be able to procure anything to eat in the desolatemountain region, though with his intimate knowledge of the Chineselanguage the boy should not experience any difficulty in procuring rice,millet, or even fish, in the valley of the main river.
The most precarious part of the whole business, however, was to escapeunseen from the cave. In this, neither of the older men could renderthe slightest assistance to the boy, who would have to rely solely uponhis own initiative. All three lay down upon their straw mattresses, andpretended to sleep, breathing heavily and even snoring, in order toarouse no suspicion on the part of the two sentries. They had purposelyallowed the fire to burn down quite low, so that there was only anexceedingly dim and somewhat fitful light in the cave.
Choosing a moment about an hour after the sentries had been relieved,Frank Armitage rose stealthily upon his hands and knees, and slowlybegan to crawl towards the entrance to the cave. Neither his uncle norMr Waldron moved. The latter continued to snore.
Frank approached the entrance from an angle, whence he peered cautiouslyround the corner. He was surprised, and somewhat dismayed, by theexceeding brightness of the night. The sky was wonderfully clear; afull, round moon illumined the rugged mountain ridges, making themappear so white that they might have been snow-clad, whereas the valleysseemed by contrast to be buried in the deepest shadow. By reason of thefirelight in the cave, the brightness of the moon, attended by asolitary and gorgeous planet, had not been noticeable from within.
The light, however, enabled Frank to take stock of the sentry who was onthe same side of the boulder as himself. He was able to observe the manat his leisure, since he himself was in the shade.
The man was evidently wide awake, for he was moving his arms backwardsand forwards with a kind of rocking gesture. His back was turned. Hesat cross-legged upon the ground, upon a plaited mat of straw, surveyingthe magnificent scene that extended before him. Perhaps, despite hisbrutal features, and low, receding forehead, there was at least a sparkof sensibility, a small power to appreciate the beautiful in nature andthe most wonderful works of God, in the untutored mind of this Chineserobber and cut-throat. At any rate, he seemed in a kind of ecstasy, forhe was talking softly to himself.
Frank silently crawled across the entrance. And there was the otherman, walking slowly to and fro, stamping his feet from time to time, asif he suffered from the cold. Clearly, it would be madness to attemptto escape until this fellow had settled down. He was far too wideawake.
The boy lay flat upon his face, in a position not exposed to themoonlight. Here he was sure he could not be seen, whereas he was wellable to observe the walking sentry.
Five minutes elapsed, ten, a quarter of an hour. Frank was becominganxious. Perhaps the man never would sit down; perhaps he did notintend to relax his vigilance until another came to relieve him of hisduties.
Even as the thought crossed the boy's mind, the man stopped, yawnedloudly, and then, seating himself upon the ground with his back restingagainst the great central rock, produced an opium pipe and proceeded toroll a pill.
Frank's heart was in his mouth. He knew that the moment of his greatordeal had come. The man had played into his hands; for not only wasthe opium bound to make him drowsy, but he had planted himself in thevery situation that gave the boy his best opportunity. Frank intendedto climb over the central boulder, and had already satisfied himselfthat the ascent would be a matter of no difficulty at all.
What lay beyond was another question. He had never had any means ofascertaining whether or not he would be able to climb down the otherside of the rock, much less make the descent of the slope. He who isover-cautious will, however, accomplish nothing. The traveller whoconsiders the pitfalls in his way and the many dangers that lurk uponthe highroad makes little or no progress, and as often as not fails toarrive at his destination. He who would gain all must risk all; he whowill risk nothing gains nothing--or, at least, does not deserve to doso.
Frank glanced back into the cave. By the dim light of the fire he wasable to see that both his uncle and Mr Waldron were stretched at fulllength upon their mattresses, looking up. No doubt each was unable tobear the continued suspense, the silence that had endured so long, butmust take one last look at him who carried with him the fortunes of allthree.
The boy glided into the shadow of the rock. There he paused a moment,waiting breathlessly to learn whether or not he had been observed whilsthe was crossing the narrow strip of moonlight. A minute passed, and asnothing happened Frank knew that he was still safe.
Then, very slowly, he began to climb. He had taken off his boots, andthese were suspended by means of the laces around his neck. He wascareful not to make the slightest sound; he was fearful almost tobreathe. He knew that the whole enterprise was in jeopardy, that at anymoment a loose stone might fall from the rock, thus attracting theattention of the sentries.
He succeeded in gaining the top, and there lay flat upon his face.Knowing that the utmost caution was of far more importance than haste,he did not move for some time. Then, slowly lifting his head, he tookin his surroundings.
The sentry on the right had not shifted his position. He still rockedhis arms and sat staring straight at the moon. The man on the left wasinvisible to Frank, being immediately under the rock. He had probablysmoked his pipe of opium, and was now in that semi-dazed, self-satisfiedcondition that invariably follows an administration of the drug. Theboy wormed himself forward, until he had gained the furthermost edge ofthe rock, which was flat-topped, like a table. Thence he was able to seeinto the second cave, where Cheong-Chau and his men were fast asleep,lying close as dogs around the dying embers of a great charcoal fire.
When Frank peered over the edge of the rock, in order to decide upon themost suitable means of descent, his heart for a moment failed him. Itwas as if he was gazing down into one of the uttermost pits of Hades.
The cliff appeared to be perpendicular, which the boy knew was not thecase. Moreover, it seemed to descend to eternity, to fade away into agreat expanse of darkness that was like the sea. It occurred to himthat if by any chance he slipped and fell, his body would be dashed toatoms thousands of feet below.
Then fortunately he had the strength of mind to remember thatimagination makes cowards of us all. It was no affair of his what layat the bottom of the valley; his immediate business was to descend fromthe top of the rock, and he had therefore best confine his attention tothe few square yards in front of him.
Immediately he did so he saw that he was confronted by a proposition byno means difficult of solution. To descend was easy enough. In theface of the rock was a narrow cleft down which it would be quite easy toclimb. Without hesitating an instant, he lowered himself, and in a fewseconds found himself at the base of the rock, where he again paused andlistened.
He was so close to the man whom he had seen light the opium pipe that hecould actually hear him breathing. Neither, however, could see theother, since the sharp corner of the rock intervened. However, thesituation was so dangerous that Frank was resolved to have no more of itthan he need; and almost at once he began to descend on all fours thesteep face of the cliff.
He realised that in the first ten yards or so his greatest danger lay.He could not tell for certain whether or not he was within sight ofeither of the men. He could but take the only possible precaution.Lying almost flat upon his face, he slid, very slowly indeed, at aboutwhat seemed to him a snail's pace, down the smooth, rocky slope.
In three minutes he knew that he was out of immediate danger. He hadescaped. Moreover, no alarm had been given.
Two courses now lay open to him: he might continue to descend until heeven
tually reached the bottom of the valley, or he might work his wayalong the cliff, parallel to the bridle-path above, until, having gainedcomparative safety, he could ascend to the higher level and then followthe road to the south.
He wisely selected the latter alternative, since he knew not whether theslope was accessible lower down. Besides, it might so happen that therewas neither path nor road in the valley.
Owing to the steepness of the slope, he could not stand upright, nor wasthere any need to do so. He could progress, if not with comfort, atleast at a very tolerable pace, on all fours.
He had traversed in this way a distance that, was probably about aquarter of a mile, when he deemed that it would be safe to ascend to thepath above by means of which he and his fellow-captives had beenconducted to the cave. This he gained without difficulty, it beingeasier to mount the slope than to progress transversely across it.
Once upon the bridle-path he found the moonlight of the greatestpossible assistance; for having put on his boots he was able to setforward running, knowing full well that every step lengthened thedistance between himself and those who he knew would certainly, sooneror later, set forth in pursuit.
It would be wearisome to describe in detail Frank Armitage's adventurousjourney across the mountains. Sunrise found him still upon the road,alternately walking and running, hurrying forward for life itself.
The fact that for three whole days he saw not a single soul speaks foritself in regard to the desolation of this wilderness. On the morningof the fourth day he found himself in the midst of the foot-hills, witha clear view before him of the fertile valley of the West River. Bythen he had consumed all the provisions he had brought with him from thecave. He was, indeed, almost famishing, and felt tempted to take almostany risk to procure something to eat. That afternoon he encounteredseveral peasants, who all regarded him with undisguised curiosity.Knowing that Cheong-Chau was sure to have despatched a party in pursuit,and realising the supreme importance of time, he considered that itwould be advisable to ask one of the inhabitants of the country theshortest route to the nearest main tributary of the river.
He selected his man with care, and after a considerable amount ofhesitation, addressed himself to a little thin, prosperous-lookingChinaman of the middle class whom he overtook upon the narrow mule-trackhe had followed for several miles.
On being interrogated, the Chinaman was not a little surprised, thoughhe was far too well-bred and polite to say so. He was surprised at twothings: first, he had never expected to meet with a European in such anout-of-the-way corner of the province; secondly, he was amazed that theyoung Englishman should address him so fluently in his own language.
"You have travelled far?" he asked.
"From Hong-Kong," answered Frank.
"That is a long way."
"It is of the greatest importance," said Frank, "that I return withoutdelay."
"Many days' journey is before you," said the Chinese. "I should begreatly honoured if you would deign to accept such hospitality as mymiserable self is in a position to offer. I am a tea-grower," hecontinued. "My house is not far from here. I should be deeplygratified if you would eat rice under my dilapidated roof."
It immediately occurred to Frank that the tea-grower might be able toassist him in more ways than one. He readily accepted the man's offerin the manner duly approved by Chinese etiquette and custom.
"Such a despicable, beggarly foreigner as myself," said he, "would beinexpressibly delighted to partake, in your palatial residence, of suchnourishing and delicious provender as, I am sure, it is the custom ofyourself and your honoured family to consume."
The Chinaman smiled.
"You speak our language to perfection," he remarked. "Few foreignersare able to do so. But what is even more extraordinary to me is thatyou appear to be acquainted with our forms of ceremony. As a generalrule, the European cannot speak to you for five minutes without beingguilty of a dozen breaches of etiquette, defying every canon of goodbehaviour."
"You see," said Frank, "I have lived in China for many years."
"Come with me," said the tea-grower. "Allow me to have the honour ofconducting you to my hovel of a dwelling."
Together they followed the mule-track for about a quarter of a mile, andthen the Chinese turned to the left, walking along a narrow bank thatseparated two flooded ricefields. Beyond they passed through a field of_kiao-liang_, in the midst of which the crickets were singing merrily,and then found themselves in an extensive tea-garden.
In the centre of the garden was a considerable house, built after themanner of all better-class houses in China--that is to say, aone-storied rambling building, together with several outhouses and afair-sized yard, the whole surrounded by a mud wall about eight feet inheight. The building was situated upon a gentle slope that faced duesouth, and from the outer gate it was possible to survey the greaterpart of the plantation.
Here the tea-grower entertained Frank Armitage. He gave him green teato drink and a cup of alcoholic beverage--called _samshu_--which is madefrom fermented rice. And then came a dinner of about fourteen courses.There were various kinds of fish, sharks' fins, larks' tongues,birds'-nest soup, small pieces of meat on little skewers, rice, milletand edible seaweed from Japan. Frank devoured all these delicacies witha relish. It was not the first time that he had eaten a Chinese dinner.Although the tea-grower lived in the wilds of the province he wasevidently a rich man. He had the true gift of hospitality, and withmore sincerity than is usually the case in China he offered his guesteverything that his house contained.
Now Frank might have refused this offer. In fact, the rules of ceremonydecreed that he should do so. He had a mind, however, to disguisehimself, and he therefore begged the tea-grower to be so good as toprovide him with a suit of Chinese clothes.
The man did not hesitate. He supplied the boy with a long robe, a pairof white trousers and a pair of felt-soled shoes. Thus attired, FrankArmitage bade his host adieu and crossed the tea-garden late that night,when the moon, which had guided him throughout the past three or fourdays, was rising in the east.
The tea-grower seemed to have taken a fancy to the boy, for heaccompanied Frank almost a mile upon his journey, putting him upon theroad which led to the village in which the majority of his coolies, orworkpeople, lived. In bidding good-bye to him, Frank thanked the manfrom his heart for all his hospitality and kindness. He shook handswith himself in the approved Chinese fashion, and bowed so low that hisnose almost touched his knees. Then he was about to set forward alonewhen the tea-grower cried out to him, asking him if he had any money.
Frank replied that he was without a cent in the world, telling thetruth--that he had been robbed of all he possessed in the mountains.Whereupon the tea-grower took from his neck a long string of coppercash. These he threw over the boy's head, at the same time quotingConfucius: "_Be charitable to the stranger from a far country! so that,when thou thyself art a stranger, doors may be opened to thy knock._"