Part 14 (1/2)
Burroughs examined the bars of the window. They were so deeply imbedded in the masonry that to loosen them within a reasonable time seemed a hopeless undertaking. The chances of succeeding in a rush through the doorway, when the door was opened, seemed slight. Burroughs had his revolver; Errington was unarmed; and though Chin Tai, who was waiting without to act as interpreter between Chung Pi and his German visitor, had his knife, it was not very likely that Burroughs and he could overpower the four sentinels on guard at the door. Even if they were taken by surprise, the sound of the scuffle would quickly bring up others from the gates and courtyards between the room and the outer wall. The more they thought of the problem, the more thoroughly were they convinced that violent measures were doomed to failure; they must have recourse to stratagem. But puzzle as they might, neither had the glimmering of a notion what the first move in the game must be.
They were so deeply immersed in talk that they did not notice the flight of time, and both were surprised when the door was opened, and a Chinese cook brought in their breakfast.
”Rice and beans again, I suppose!” said Errington, with a groan. ”I've had nothing else.”
An idea occurred to Burroughs.
”Take care not to seem friendly with me,” he said, twirling his moustache--Reinhardt's moustache!--and turning his back on Errington with true Germanic disdain. ”Hai! Chin Tai, tell these fellows that I demand to see the captain at once.”
He had some doubt whether his demand would be acceded to, but Chung Pi had apparently antic.i.p.ated something of the sort, for one of the sentinels called up a man from the courtyard, and sent him with the message to the captain.
When Chung Pi appeared, it was evident that he was much amused. He laughed as he spoke to Chin Tai.
”He say ma.s.sa hab catchee too plenty muchee plison,” said Chin Tai.
”It's all very well,” said Burroughs, frowning haughtily. ”I asked you to arrest me, for form's sake, but I didn't say I'd agree to be starved.
Is this the fare to put before a German? It is good enough for the Englishman, but it won't do for me.”
He glanced scornfully at Errington, who, taking the cue, a.s.sumed an air of dejection and humility.
”I am sorry,” said Chung Pi contritely. ”It was a mere oversight on my part. The cook naturally provided for the second prisoner as for the first. He did not know of the understanding between your honourable excellency and my unworthy self. I will at once have a dinner prepared worthy of your august eminence.”
”That is well,” said Burroughs. ”When I have finished my meal, I shall give myself the pleasure of showing to you the boat which lies at the landing-stage.”
”I must sleep a little first,” said Chung Pi. ”I have eaten so many melon seeds that my belt is exceedingly tight.”
”At any time your excellency pleases,” said Burroughs, with a bow.
The captain retired, after giving orders to the cook. Presently the servant returned, bringing a right royal feast--pickled duck's eggs, bean curd, pork patties, chopped cuc.u.mber, millet cakes soaked in treacle, fried cabbage--all very tastily dressed, together with water melons and tea.
As soon as the door was shut, the two prisoners fell to with a will.
”You'll want something better than rice and beans if we're to have any bother,” said Burroughs. ”This is very good; I only wish they didn't use quite so much garlic and oil.”
When they had finished their dinner, Burroughs knocked at the door, and ordered Chin Tai, who meanwhile had had to satisfy himself with rice, to let the captain know that he was ready. It was some time before Chung Pi appeared, cracking and eating melon seeds. What explanation he gave to the sentinels of his indulgence to the second prisoner, or whether he condescended to give any explanation at all, Burroughs never knew. He accompanied Chung Pi to the outer gate, where chairs were waiting, and when they had entered these antiquated vehicles, each was lifted by four chai-jen or yamen runners, and carried through crooked and unsavoury streets, too narrow to admit of more than one pa.s.sing at a time, down to the landing-stage. Two chai-jen went in advance, clearing a way with their sticks through the crowd. Chin Tai followed.
Lo San's face beamed at the sight of ”Ma.s.sa Bullows.” He had begun to fear that some mishap had befallen him, and saw another beating in prospect.
Burroughs invited the captain to step into the hydroplane, but Chung Pi excused himself with many apologies, regretting that the present state of his health--by which Burroughs understood a surfeit of melon seeds--rendered it inadvisable for him to undergo any excitement.
Leaving Chin Tai on the landing-stage, as a guarantee of good faith, Burroughs accordingly embarked alone, and for the s.p.a.ce of a quarter of an hour or so exhibited the qualities of the vessel as a hydroplane, skimming up and down the river at full speed. Its flying powers, however, he refrained from showing.
Chung Pi was so much impressed and delighted with the marvellous vessel that he overcame his squeamishness, and consented to try a short trip up-stream. A few miles above the town, Burroughs caught sight of a small launch coming down swiftly on the current, and ran up to meet it, intending to turn and race it, with the object of still further impressing the captain. But in a few moments Lo San, interpreting a sentence of his pa.s.senger, informed him that the launch was one of Su Fing's dispatch boats, and was probably bringing a message from the chief to Chung Pi.
Feeling somewhat alarmed, Burroughs slowed down, and ran the hydroplane alongside the launch. A sashed and turbaned officer on deck shouted a greeting to Chung Pi, and told him that Su Fing was now on his way down the river with the bulk of his force, and might be expected to arrive before sunset.
”He say you velly happy this time,” Lo San interpreted. ”Su Fing he come look-see boat, say he velly good, numpa one boat.”
Burroughs was anything but happy. He forced a smile, but felt most unphilosophically irritated when the ends of Reinhardt's moustache tickled his cheeks. He listened unheeding to the monotonous voice of Lo San translating the encomiums pa.s.sed by Chung Pi on the admirable vessel, and steered mechanically down-stream towards Meichow, whither the captain said they must return at once in order to make preparations for Su Fing's fitting reception. Sufficiently alive to the necessity of sparing petrol, he did not drive the vessel at full speed, much to the disappointment of Chung Pi, who was looking forward to a das.h.i.+ng reappearance before the eyes of the thousands of admiring spectators now, beyond doubt, congregated at the riverside.
The imminent return of Su Fing threatened to put a bar to any plan that might be evolved for releasing Errington. As yet, think as hard as he might, Burroughs had been quite unable to form any likely scheme. On the way down the river he bent his brains exclusively on the problem, blind to the probability that Chung Pi might become suspicious of his lack of exhilaration at the prospect of a speedy meeting with the chief. The more he puzzled, the more hopeless the situation appeared. He knew that the coming of Su Fing would draw the whole population into the narrow contorted alley-ways that served as streets, so that, even if he got Errington out of the yamen, the chances of gaining the landing-stage undetected were naught. He tried to think of some means of persuading Chung Pi to bring Errington to the hydroplane; indeed, he ventured to hint that it would be a fine thing to meet the chief far up the river, and offer the prisoner to him as a sort of slave to grace his triumph.