Part 3

The boy had broken into a run, and when he met them Jack saw at once by his face that he bore grave news. But he was not prepared for what the little fellow told him in breathless gasps. Soon after daybreak a squad of Siberian infantry had appeared at Mr. Brown's house, put the merchant under arrest, ransacked his papers, and carried him off a prisoner. Hi Lo's father, the compradore, happened to be at a window of the front room as the soldiers came up; and suspecting, with Chinese shrewdness and dislike of the soldiers, that something was amiss, he had run to the inner sanctum and removed the most valuable papers from the safe before the Russians entered. But knowing that he was likely to be searched, he had handed the papers to Hi Lo, hoping that the boy would escape the visitors' attentions. Mr. Brown made a vigorous protest against the Russians' action, and demanded by what authority they arrested him and the crime with which he was charged; but the officer in command refused to give him any information. Before he was marched off, he was allowed a few words with his compradore, a servant of many years' standing. Learning that the papers were for the present secure, he had managed, without making his meaning clear to the Russian officer, to direct that they should be handed to Jack. They were for the most part vouchers from the Russian authorities for goods supplied; if not concealed, they would certainly be seized, and Mr. Brown knew how impossible it was to make a Russian official disgorge plunder. The whole thing was probably a mistake, at the worst a plot which could no doubt be shown up. The first necessity was to put the securities out of harm's way; then Jack could take whatever steps might be called for to obtain his father's release, if he were still detained after he had met the charge against him.

The boy told his story rapidly in pidgin English; not that Jack did not understand Chinese, but because, like all Chinese servants, Hi Lo made it a point of pride to use his master's language. Monsieur Brin could make nothing of the narrative.

"What is the matter with you, my friend?" he asked, seeing the look of concern on Jack's face.

"An annoying mistake, Monsieur. My father has been arrested by the Russians."

"Oho! What has he been doing?"

"Nothing, of course. Some official has been too zealous, I suppose. I must ride on, Monsieur."

"But may not you be arrested, too?"

"I don't think so. If they intended it, they would already have sent a detachment after me. You may be sure their spies know very well where I have been. No, I'm in no danger; but anyhow I must find out what it all means, so if you don't mind, Monsieur, we'll hurry on and chance the dust."

"Certainly, my friend. My word! this is an unfortunate end to our pleasant little picnic."

"You have the papers, Hi Lo?"

The boy produced them from some pouch in his wadded cotton garments. Jack looked them over. They represented a considerable sum of money. He did not care to have them about him, in case he should be searched. What could he do with them? For a moment he thought of giving them into the care of Monsieur Brin, but on reflection he hesitated to involve the correspondent in his difficulties. Hi Lo was a clever little fellow, devoted to him; probably he would be the best custodian for the present. He gave the papers back to the boy.

"Keep them carefully, Hi Lo. Don't come near our house till I send for you."

Then he put his pony to a canter, and with Brin by his side hastened on to the city. At the moment, as Jack knew, there were few Russian soldiers in Moukden. General Kuropatkin was at the front, somewhere south of Liao-yang; Admiral Alexeieff was at Harbin. The arrest must have been made in their absence, and probably unknown to them, by the local military authorities. But, knowing his father's innocence, Jack expected to find that he had already been released.

On entering the city he said good-bye to Monsieur Brin, who was full of condolence.

"If I can do anything, tell me," he said. "Unhappily I cannot telegraph; the soldiers have monopoly of the wires; and, besides, there is the terrible censor. But if I can do anything----"

"Don't worry, Monsieur. It will be all right. My father is a British subject; and though the Russians don't love us just now, they won't do anything very dreadful, I imagine. Many thanks! I will let you know how things stand."

He rode straight home, and, finding that the house was shut and locked, sought the compradore at his cottage at the rear of the compound behind. Learning from him further details of the arrest, he at once set off for the military head-quarters near the railway-station. He knew several of the Russian officers, but those to whom he spoke had heard nothing of the singular occurrence. One of them offered to make enquiries. He returned by and by with the information that the order for Mr. Brown's arrest had been given by General Bekovitch. This was not cheering, for General Bekovitch, as Jack knew, was an officer who under a surface polish and refinement was thoroughly unscrupulous, and one indeed whose enmity Mr. Brown had incurred by his uncompromising attitude towards the official methods of corruption. Some time before this, when Bekovitch was a colonel, he had transferred to the Pole, Sowinski, a contract which had been placed in Mr. Brown's hands. The latter protested, and Bekovitch's superior disallowed his action and gave him metaphorically a rap on the knuckles. The colonel was deeply chagrined, both at the reprimand and at the loss of the secret commission arranged with Sowinski. He was now promoted major-general; his superior was gone; and Jack could hardly doubt that he had seized the opportunity to pay off his grudge against the English merchant. Jack shrank somewhat from a meeting with the general, but his indignation outweighed every other feeling, and, plucking up his courage, he made his way to the luxurious railway-carriage which served Bekovitch for quarters.

He had to wait some time before he gained admittance to the general's presence. When at last he was invited to enter, he found Bekovitch lolling on a divan smoking a cigarette, a champagne bottle at his elbow. He was a tall fair man, inclining to stoutness, with a long moustache and carefully-trimmed beard, and looked in his white uniform a very dignified representative of the military bureaucracy.

Jack's residence as a boy in Vladivostok had given him a good colloquial knowledge of Russian, so that he had no difficulty in addressing the general in his own language.

"I have recently heard, sir, of my father's arrest," he said, "and I have come to ask if you will be good enough to tell me where he is and what he is charged with."

"You are Mr. Brown's son? How do you do?" said the general suavely. "I am sorry for you. It is a bad business altogether. I should be quite justified in refusing to give you information, but I am, of course, willing to stretch a point in a case like this--father and son, you know. Well, I regret to say that I had to arrest your father for giving military information to the Japanese."

"But, sir, that is ridiculous. My father never did such a thing. He has had no connection, not even a business one, with the Japanese; he doesn't like them. Besides, he would never think of doing anything underhand. No one who knows him could even imagine it."

If Bekovitch felt the personal application, he did not show it.

"Very creditable, very creditable indeed. A loyal son; excellent. I should be the last to undeceive you; therefore we will say no more about it. Let me offer you a cigarette."

"No, thank you, sir. Really the matter cannot end thus. What evidence have you against my father?"

The general shrugged.

"Well, if you will---- We had our suspicions; your father is an Englishman, you know; we examined his papers and found proof of our suspicions--full, conclusive. There is no doubt at all about it."

"But you will allow my father to clear himself. I am sure he can do so."

"We have no time for long-winded processes," replied the general, throwing away the end of his cigarette and lighting another. "Moukden, as you must be aware, young man, is under martial law."

"Then what has become of my father, sir? Where is he?"

"We might have shot him, you know." The general's manner was suaver than ever. "But we are a merciful people. Your father has merely been--deported."

At this Jack felt that either there was a hole in the net woven around his father, or the Russians had feared to proceed to extremities owing to his British nationality.

"Well, sir," he said, "I shall, of course, appeal to our government."

"Certainly, my young friend, certainly! But on what ground? See, I recognize your anxiety; it is perfectly natural; for that reason I am patient with you. But we must be the judges as to who shall stay in Manchuria, who shall leave. Your father is now on his way to--to the frontier. You will follow without loss of time. I give you twelve hours to quit the city. A pass shall be made out for you; you will go by to-night's train to Harbin."

General Bekovitch's manner was as urbane and polite as ever, but there was in his tone a something that warned the boy that further protest would be useless. Still, he must make one more effort to discover his father's whereabouts.

"Has my father gone to Harbin?" he asked.

"I have told you, my young friend, he has been deported. I can tell you no more."

"But why not tell me his route, General Bekovitch? He was in any case leaving for England in a few days. If I am to go to Harbin I should like to know whether there is any possibility of overtaking my father and proceeding to Europe with him."

For answer the general summoned an attendant.

"Michel Sergeitch, show this young man out."

Jack gave him one look, then turned in silence towards the door.

"One moment," called the general after him. "As I said, a pass shall be sent you. The train leaves at eight. If you are found here to-morrow, you will be arrested and escorted as a prisoner to the frontier. That, I may remark, is an unpleasant mode of travelling. Remember, eight o'clock."

*CHAPTER IV*

*The Great Siberian Railway*

Duty and Inclination--A Domiciliary Visit--Monsieur Brin Protests--A Reminder--The Ombeloke--Quandary--Salvage--A Fortune in Soles--Fellow Passengers--From a Carriage Window--A Further Search--At the Sungari Bridge--Off the Line--The Compradore's Brother--Consultation--A Bargain--The Terms--The Last Load--In a Horse-box

Jack had rage in his heart as he walked back to the city. He was angry and indignant, but even more alarmed. The general had told him little: was that little the truth? What did he mean by "deported"? If Mr. Brown had really been put across the frontier, why should the general have refused to say by what route he had travelled? Jack feared that there had been foul play, and his anxiety was none the less because he could not imagine what form the foul play had taken.

His own position was awkward. He was homeless; in a few hours he was to be packed like a bundle of goods into a train and carried away against his will. His father might have preceded him to Europe; on the other hand, he might not. Was he to leave Moukden thus, in uncertainty as to his father's fate?

Thus perplexed and troubled in mind, he walked back to his house. At the door he found Monsieur Brin in a state of desperation at his inability to make head or tail of the compradore's pidgin English.

"Ha, my friend!" he exclaimed, "I am glad to see you; I must know the worst; I come in haste, but the Chinese man speaks a language of monkeys; I understand it not. Tell me what is arrived."

"I have seen General Bekovitch," replied Jack. "He told me almost nothing. My father has been deported--for betraying secrets to the Japanese, if you please! Did you ever hear of anything so ridiculous, so preposterous!"

"But that is all right. O.K. Deported! Mr. Brown is the happy man. It would please me to be deported also. He goes back to Europe: that I could accompany him!"

"But that is the point. Has he gone back to Europe? The general would not tell me. And he is packing me off too! I have to leave by to-night's train for Harbin, or he will put me under arrest."

"He! That is a scandal. I will expose it. I will write it all to my redacteur. Ah! But I ask myself, will the redacteur publish my letter? France is allied to Russia. A French publicist has to consider not solely his own persuasions, but his duty to his country. I reflect: it will be best actually to write nothing. But if, my friend, there needs money, demand me; I can furnish hundred, hundred and fifty roubles: it will be to me a pleasure."

"Many thanks, Monsieur! I do not think I shall need your assistance. I told the general I shall appeal to our government. Unluckily we have no consul here; the nearest, I suppose, is at Shanghai; and being sent off to Harbin, I don't know when I shall have an opportunity of communicating with our authorities."

"Truly, it is a difficult situation. And your goods here: what will they become?"

"They'll be confiscated, I suppose. As you see, I am locked out. Luckily we have nothing of any great value. My father sent off in advance all that he wished to keep, and they can't touch his account at the Hong-Kong and Shanghai bank."

He said nothing about the securities in Hi Lo's possession, not from any want of faith in the Frenchman's good-will, but not entirely trusting his discretion.

"They have no right to lock me out," continued Jack. "And as General Bekovitch said he'd send me a pass for the train, he must suppose he'll find me here. So if Mr. Hi will put his shoulder to the door, I think we'll force the lock and see what they have been doing."

The stalwart compradore made short work of the fastenings. Accompanied by Monsieur Brin and the Chinaman, Jack entered his father's house. There were manifest signs of ransacking. The floor of the office was strewn with papers; in the dining-room the drawers had been emptied; and a large oaken press, a fine specimen of Chinese cabinet-making on which Mr. Brown set much store, had been forced open. They were contemplating the dismal scene when Hi Lo came running in.

"Masta," he said hurriedly, "thlee fo' piecee Lusski walkee chop-chop this-side."

A few moments later the house was entered by four Siberian infantrymen, headed by a lieutenant and accompanied by a tall, fair, hook-nosed man, at the sight of whom Jack started. A light flashed upon him. Anton Sowinski was the Russian Pole who had been doing his best to ruin Mr. Brown's business, and had so bitterly resented Mr. Brown's successes. It was he, too, who had instigated the charge trumped up against Wang Shih in revenge for a business defeat. Was it unlikely that Sowinski had been the agent in this other trumped-up charge of espionage? If not, what was his business now?

"I have come," said the lieutenant, "to bring you the pass promised by General Bekovitch. Here it is."

He drew a large unsealed envelope from his pocket, and took from it a paper which he proceeded to read. It stipulated that Mr. John Brown, junior, was to leave Moukden by the train for Harbin at 8 p.m., en route for Europe. Replacing it in the envelope, the officer laid this upon the table and said:

"I regret, Monsieur, that I have a disagreeable duty to perform. I am ordered to search the house and everybody in it. Mr. Brown is known to have been in possession of certain vouchers which are now forfeit to my government. They could not be found when he was arrested; the conclusion is that they are in your possession. I must ask you to turn out your pockets."

"I have no papers," said Jack, "and I protest."

"I am sorry. I have my orders to carry out. Resistance is useless."

"Oh! I shall not resist. Search away."

The lieutenant had already posted a soldier at the back entrance, and had sent another man to bring into the room anyone whom he might find on the premises. As Jack was being searched, Hi Lo was brought in; he had slipped away when the Russians entered. Jack hoped that the boy had had time to hide the papers, for though the amount they represented was small in comparison with his father's total fortune, it was yet considerable in itself, and he was anxious to save it, not merely for its own sake, but because without it he would have no means of carrying through a plan he had already dimly determined on. Hi Lo's face was void of all expression. There were now in the room, besides the Russians, Jack himself, Monsieur Brin, the compradore, and his son. The door was locked.

Jack was searched from top to toe. Nothing was found on him save letters of no importance. The compradore and Hi Lo were examined in turn; they submitted meekly, and Jack almost betrayed his relief when he saw that the papers had not been discovered on the boy. Then the officer turned to Monsieur Brin, glancing at the red band on his arm.

"But I am a Frenchman," exclaimed the angry correspondent. "Why do you search me? I have nothing. I know nothing."

"I find you in Mr. Brown's house. I have orders to search everybody. I hope you will make no difficulty, Monsieur."

"Difficulty! It is you that make difficulty. It is an insult, an indignity. I am an ally; peste! for what good to be an ally if I am thus treated as an enemy! But I do not resist; no, I resign myself. From no one but an ally would I endure such an indignity."

"I am exceedingly sorry, Monsieur. General Bekovitch, in giving orders, of course did not contemplate for a moment the case of a French correspondent being present; but my instructions are positive. I have no choice but to carry them out."

"Well, I protest still once more. I will make the French nation know the price they pay for this so agreeable alliance."

Monsieur Brin was searched. No papers were found on him except his pocket-book, a lady's photograph, and several letters, which the officer glanced through, the Frenchman fuming with impatience and indignation. At the conclusion of the search the lieutenant threw a meaning glance at Sowinski, whose attitude throughout had convinced Jack of the correctness of his surmise. The Pole's presence was in itself a sufficient proof of his personal interest in Mr. Brown's fate. An hour was spent in making a further examination of the scattered papers; nothing incriminating being found, the lieutenant gave his men the order to march. At the last moment he glanced at the envelope on the table.

"Take care of it, Monsieur," he said; "it would be awkward for you if it were lost."

When the party had gone, Monsieur Brin fairly exploded with wrath. English was too slow for him; a rapid torrent of French came from his quivering lips. But Jack's attention was diverted from the Frenchman by the strange antics of Hi Lo, who was dancing round his father, his face beaming with delight.

"You hid the papers?" said Jack. "You are a good boy. Where are they?"

The boy pointed to the envelope on the table.

"What do you mean?"

"Masta, look-see. Masta, look-see."

Jack lifted the envelope. The boy's glee puzzled him. Opening it, he took out the Russian pass, and with it half a dozen thin slips of paper written upon in Russian and French. He could hardly believe his eyes. They were the very papers for which the officer had sought so diligently but in vain.

"How is this? What does it mean?" he said in blank amazement.

"Hai-yah! Velly bad Lusski man look-see Masta; allo piecee bad man look-see all-same; no can tinkee Hi Lo plenty smart inside. Hai-yah! Allo piecee Lusski man look-see that-side; my belongey this-side, makee no bobbely; cleep-cleep 'long-side table; my hab papers allo lightee: ch'hoy! he belong-ey chop-chop inside ombeloke; Lusski no savvy nuffin 'bout nuffin, galaw!"

Jack burst into a roar of laughter, and translated the boy's pidgin to the bewildered Frenchman. While the Russians were intent on searching Jack, and their backs were towards Hi Lo, the boy, knowing that his turn must come, seized the opportunity to slip the precious papers into the unclosed envelope on the table. Monsieur Brin flung up his hands and began to pirouette, then stopped to laugh, and held his shaking sides.

"Hi! hi! admirable! Excellentissime! Bravo! bravo! Ma foi! Comme il est adroit! Comme il est spirituel! Ho! ho! Tiens! Le gars merite une forte recompense. Voila!"

In his excess of enthusiasm he took a silver dollar from his pocket, spun it, and handed it to Hi Lo. The boy was sober in an instant. He gravely handed the coin back.

"No wantchee Fa-lan-sai man he dollar," he said.

Brin looked to Jack for an explanation.

"He is much obliged, but would rather not. You made a little mistake, Monsieur. You can't offend a Chinaman of this sort more than by offering him money. He is, indeed, a clever little chap. I'll take care he doesn't go unrewarded."

"Ha! That is another point for my chapter on the characteristics of the Chinese. But now, my friend, what will you do?"

"Really, Monsieur, I don't know. I must talk it over with the compradore."

"Very well then, I leave you. I go to write notes of this most interesting episode. I begin to enjoy war correspondence. You go at eight? I will be at the station to say adieu."

Jack spent more than an hour in serious consultation with Hi An, the compradore, a man of forty, who had served his father for nearly twenty years, and was heart and soul devoted to his interests. There was no question but that Jack must leave Moukden that night, and Hi An advised him to go straight to Moscow and take the first opportunity of communicating with the British Foreign Office. Meanwhile the compradore himself would do what he could to trace the whereabouts of his master. But this course Jack was very unwilling to adopt. In the first place, he had his father's instructions to realize the securities, so cleverly saved by Hi Lo. Then there was the consignment of flour which he hoped might run the Japanese blockade and come safe to harbour at Vladivostok. If it should arrive it would be worth a large sum of money, and Jack was not disposed to yield that a spoil to the Russians. Last and most important consideration, he was oppressed by the mystery of his father's fate. With the likelihood of innumerable delays on the congested railway, he might be three weeks or a month reaching Moscow; he foresaw difficulties in inducing the Foreign Office to move in a case where there was so little to go upon; and, above all, it was unendurable to think that his father might, for all he knew, be still near at hand, in danger and distress.