CHAPTER XV
REINHARDT IN THE TOILS
Burroughs and the smiling captain were still some few yards away fromReinhardt's gangway; Reinhardt was staring with puzzled curiosity at thetall German with the moustache so like his own lost treasure; whenBurroughs whispered to Lo San--
"Say to the captain: 'That is the launch, but where is my brother? Mybrother wears a moustache like mine. Do not the English shave the lip?Ask him who he is.'"
Chung Pi was a horse-boy turned captain; like many great men sprung fromhumble origin, he was apt to stand upon his dignity. Advancing towardsthe stranger as he stepped on to the landing-stage, he introducedhimself with a grave pomposity, and asked Reinhardt to what Meichow owedthe honour of his visit.
The German's eyes were fixed in a puzzled stare on Burroughs, who hadtaken off his cap as in respectful salutation. The close-cropped hair,the pencilled eyebrows, the stiff perpendicularity of his waxedmoustache-ends, had so much altered his appearance that Reinhardt,though he felt that he had seen him somewhere before, did not recognizehim. Germanic though his aspect was, there was a nameless somethingabout him that put Reinhardt on his guard. Turning to Chung Pi, hereplied courteously, in Chinese, that he was a German employed by hisgovernment to keep in touch with the august Su Fing, and that hishonourable questioner without doubt knew the name of Reinhardt as afriend and ally of his chief.
Lo San was quick-witted. He saw that there was no time to translate theconversation to Burroughs, and for the moment held his peace. Burroughscould only stand in a commanding attitude with folded arms, accusationin his frown. He bethought himself of his moustache, and gave it acautious twirl. And all the time he wished with desperate anxiety thathe could understand what Reinhardt was saying.
Chung Pi looked at the German with fatuous indecision. Burroughs feltthat another moment might seal his fate. He was beating his brains fora possible move if his stratagem failed, when Lo San interruptedReinhardt as he was asking whether Su Fing had returned to the town.
"You see, honourable captain," he said, "that this man who calls himselfa German has no moustache!"
And now the pen of the narrator fails: only a gramophone and acinematograph could faithfully record the scene. Imagine the three men:the magnified horse-boy, bewildered between a furious German, shoutingin Chinese, and a calm but quaking Englishman, standing like a judgeabout to condemn; with a shrill-voiced China boy at his side, screaminginto Chung Pi's very ear; the men on the landing-stage gaping; themotley crowd at the shoreward end watching keenly, like the spectatorsat a boxing-match. Chung Pi, Reinhardt, Lo San, were all talking atonce. Reinhardt, incoherent with rage, yelled "I am a German." ChungPi asked him not to shout. Lo San, determined to make himself heard,screamed "He is an Englishman. As your excellency knows, the friend ofSu Fing wears a moustache; it is the custom in his country; look at myaugust master."
Chung Pi, a peasant beneath his uniform, was slow, tenacious andpig-headed. He had seen Reinhardt once or twice, and carried away animpression of a moustache and little more. If this was Reinhardt, wherewas the moustache? He felt that he was being played with--he, thelieutenant of Su Fing, was bemocked by a man whose upper lip was evencleaner than that of the Englishman in the yamen. And when Burroughs,taking advantage of Reinhardt's vociferous abuse, whispered to Lo San tosuggest that the man should be put with the other Englishman, and Lo Sanyelled the suggestion into the captain's ear, Chung Pi's simple mind wasmade up. Beckoning to some of his ruffians who stood expectantly by, heordered them to seize the pig of an Englishman and carry him to theyamen. The chief should deal with him.
For a few seconds a whirling mass gyrated at the edge of thelanding-stage. The centre of it was Conrad Reinhardt; the circumferencewas formed by a dozen Chinese legs. Yells of rage and derision arosefrom the variegated crowd of spectators as they watched the supposedEnglishman--as much as they could see of him--struggling in the grasp ofthe spearmen. The scuffle ceased as suddenly as it had begun.Reinhardt appeared to bethink himself of his dignity. He made no furtherresistance, but allowed the insurgents to lead him away.
That procession is probably a cherished memory in Meichow to this day.It was led by the lictors--if the ragged ruffians may be dignified withthat name for the nonce--who thrust back the shouting people thatflocked from every alley to see the sight. Then came the prisoner amidthe spearmen. A few paces behind marched the two sets of chairmen,carrying Burroughs and Chung Pi, with Chin Tai stepping beside. Morespearmen brought up the rear. Lo San had returned to the hydroplane.
At the gate of the yamen Burroughs got out of his chair and approachedthat of the captain, beckoning Chin Tai forward to interpret.
"Your honourable presence," he said, "has no doubt great preparations tomake for the reception of the august Su Fing. I feel that it would illbeseem me to take up more of your time. For myself, I think I ought tofollow the prisoner. Who knows what conspiracy he may not hatch withthe other if I am not there to keep an eye on them!"
"But you may be in danger from their violence," said Chung Pi. "You sawhow the Englishman fought and kicked."
"Yes, he behaved very badly," replied Burroughs; "but with four of yourbrave warriors outside the door, the prisoners would not dare to molestme."
And with ceremonious salutations they parted.
Meanwhile Reinhardt had been marched through the courtyards, and takento the room where Errington was wondering anxiously what had happened tohis friend. The door was thrown open, and the German thrust inside. Thespearmen reported by and by to their captain that on entering the room,the new prisoner advanced towards the other, holding out his hand, andsaying some few words of greeting. The first prisoner neither took hishand nor replied to him. Chung Pi had sufficient intelligence toexplain this incident satisfactorily to himself. The new-comer wasundoubtedly English. He had recognized the prisoner, who, however, wasmore prudent, and pretended not to know him. Chung Pi plumed himself onhis sagacity, and basked in the anticipated light of Su Fing'scountenance when he should return and find two birds in his cage.
Reinhardt had made up his mind, while walking up to the yamen, to acceptwith as good a grace as possible the temporary inconvenience which heowed to the loss of his moustache--also temporary: he felt his upperlip, and discovered proofs of a new crop. By keeping his temper undercontrol he would give himself the best chance of dealing withcircumstances as they arose. Of course, when Su Fing returned all wouldbe set right; and he promised himself that the ass of a captain who hadso stupidly mistaken him should have cause to regret his imbecility.But he was a good deal puzzled. Who was this man, ostensibly a German,who had stood by indifferent while a compatriot of his own was beingshamed? And who was the Chinaman who had uttered such abominable thingsabout him? He was something like Lo San, Errington's boy. And then alight flashed upon him: it _was_ Lo San; Errington, he knew, had beencaptured; no doubt he was the "other Englishman" who had been mentioned;and the whole affair was a plot on Lo San's part to bring his master andReinhardt together, in the hope that the German might be persuaded toplead for him with the chief.
This thought comforted Reinhardt. Lo San was evidently a clever fellow;and as Errington's career was of course ended, his boy would probably bequite willing to enter the service of a new master. The German wastherefore prepared, when he was pushed forward into the room, to findErrington waiting with open arms to receive him.
He was surprised when Errington refused to speak to him.
"Come, my friend," he said, "zis is not kind. Here am I, come at greatcost to serve you, and you cut me! Zere is some big mistake; ze fool ofa captain supposes me to be English, and makes me a prisoner. We are twoprisoners togezer. Zis is not ze time for coldness between friends.Wizout you, I should not be here at zis moment." Reinhardt was unawarehow truly he had spoken. "You owe me much. But you are young, and likemany young men, you do not know your best friends."
Err
ington, on his part, was thoroughly amazed when he saw Reinhardtenter the room. Hearing footsteps outside the door, he had expected tosee Burroughs again. The entrance of a man whom, after his recentinterview with Burroughs, he distrusted and despised gave him a shock.Instinctively he refused him his hand. But now, at the German'sexplanation, strange as it was, he began to wonder whether he had notdone him a double injustice. Perhaps the man had repented of hisrefusal of Burroughs' appeal, and after all had come up the river to hisassistance.
He was wavering, on the point of asking Reinhardt whether he had seenBurroughs, when the German began to speak again.
"Yes, when your own countrymen do nozink for you, behold me, a German,putting my head into ze lion's mouse on your behalf. I ask you, whyshould I do so? You owe me five hundred dollars: bah! I zink nozink ofzat. You are to me nozink but a friend----"
"And a servant of your firm," Errington blurted out, resenting thereference to his debt, and desperately uneasy now that it was clear thatBurroughs and the German had not met.
"Not so," said Reinhardt complacently. "Zere is no reason why I shouldcome to help you--nozink but friendship. You are no longer employed bymy firm."
This took Errington's breath away. He listened in stony silence asReinhardt proceeded.
"Zey pay you zree munce salary instead of notice. I have ze cheque inmy pocket. Now you see what a friend I am, when you are no longer wiz mein business, and owe me five hundred dollars. Which is ze friend,Conrad Reinhardt, or Burroughs, ze man what preach, ze man who is whatyou call a smug, who eats and drinks merry when his old friend is----"
Errington could stand no more. Springing to his feet, he hit out aswinging blow that sent the German spinning across the room.
Reinhardt's hand flew to his breast pocket. He whipped out a revolver,and was taking a snapshot at Errington when his arm was struck up frombehind; the weapon exploded harmlessly, and next moment was wrenchedfrom his grasp and flung across the room. Unseen, unheard, Burroughs hadquietly entered the room and taken in the situation at a glance.
No word had been spoken. While a man might count three there was a deadsilence in the room. Then Burroughs, stepping to the still open door,confronted the sentinels and Chin Tai, who were pressing forward,alarmed by the shot.
"Bind that man!" cried Burroughs, pointing to the German, now slowlyrising to his feet.
ERRINGTON HITS OUT]
There was no hesitation among the men. They understood by this time thatthe supposed detention of Burroughs was only a move in their chief'spolicy. They did not understand it, but it was no affair of theirs.There were no ropes at hand, but they stripped off their cummerbunds;and in a few minutes Reinhardt, glowering from Burroughs to Errington,and from Errington to Burroughs, lay on the floor, trussed with bonds ofyellow and red.