The Flying Boat: A Story of Adventure and Misadventure
CHAPTER XIII
RECONCILIATION
It was midnight when the hydroplane came in sight of Chia-ling Fu. The river was thronged with junks and other vessels moored for the night, and as many of these no doubt had their crews sleeping on board, Burroughs thought it desirable again to tow the hydroplane. It was necessary that no alarm should be given which might have the effect of causing uneasiness at Meichow. He wished that Su Fing had selected a smaller and less busy place than Meichow for his head-quarters; the larger the population, the greater the risk that the hydroplane would be recognized; for it was quite on the cards that some of the river boatmen had seen it skimming or flying on the lower reaches of the Yang-tse. But it was probably known that the vessel had once been stolen from its rightful owner at Sui-Fu, in which case any suspicious person might perhaps be persuaded that the theft had been repeated, with more success.
They got safely past Chia-ling Fu, and then Burroughs moored the hydroplane for a time, so that he might not arrive at Meichow before morning. As he waited, he pondered deeply on the knotty problem that would face him next day. The silence of a cold winter night does not conduce to over-confidence, and Burroughs was at no time one who saw things in too rosy a light. His story was plausible enough, if he had not made an egregious mistake in supposing that Reinhardt was more or less in league with the rebels. But the bubble would be pricked if Reinhardt were to follow him speedily up the river. Much depended also on whether Su Fing was still absent, for the rebel chief was no fool, and the slightest slip might land him in a quagmire from which there would be no escape. As he sat leaning his arms on the gunwale, and watching the dark water swirling by, Burroughs was conscious of many qualms; but in the background of his mind there was always the image of his old-time friend eating his heart out in captivity, and for the sake of his friend he was ready to dare all, to risk all, disregarding the consequences to himself.
He had made up his mind what to do on reaching Meichow; beyond that moment all must be left to the course of circumstances. When, in the early dawn, he came in sight of the town, he ordered Chin Tai to hail the landing-stage as soon as he was near enough, and command a rope to be thrown. His only safety lay in boldness. The rope having been thrown, Chin Tai was to say that his master had come on a visit to Su Fing, and demand a guide.
Just before arriving at the landing-stage, they passed a river gunboat lying off the town. The sight of this craft somewhat surprised him, until he learnt later that it had been employed by the Chinese Government in policing the upper reaches of the Yang-tse-kiang, and fallen a prey to the rebels.
There was no sign of the morning bustle that was usually to be seen at a riverside town. The seizure of the place by Su Fing had put a stop to trade for the time being. The man on the landing-stage responded somewhat sleepily to Chin Tai's order; but the boy, being jealous of Lo San's enterprise in previously visiting the town, was determined to show that he also was a man of mettle, and hurled such a torrent of abuse at the sluggard as caused him to hurry. The hydroplane was moored; Burroughs stepped on to the landing-stage, assuming a mien as like Reinhardt's as he could muster; and Chin Tai, with the self-importance natural to the servant of an august personage, demanded that his honourable master should be instantly led to the chief. The man said something in reply.
"He say hon'ble Su Fing no belongey Meichow this time," Chin Tai reported.
"Ask him who is in charge."
"He say hon'ble Fen Ti," said Chin Tai, after questioning the man; "all same Fen Ti gone wailo; he takee tousand fightee men help Su Fing Cheng Tu side."
"Tell him not to waste time; who is in charge now?"
It was at length explained that the man at present in command was one Chung Pi.
"He no muchee big fella," said Chin Tai scornfully; "one time he mafoo[#]; he belongey good fightee man; this time he tinkee numpa one topside fella."
[#] Horse-boy.
"Does he live in the yamen?"
The reply was that Chung Pi was not a big enough man to occupy the yamen, but was living in a small house hard by.
"Then I'll go and see Chung Pi," said Burroughs.
A guide was called up, and Burroughs was led through an extraordinary succession of narrow lanes and by-ways to a small house a few yards from the gate of the yamen. Chin Tai accompanied his master, Lo San remaining on the boat, with strict orders to sound the siren if he saw any vessel of importance approaching.
On arriving at the house, Chin Tai learnt from the door-keeper that his honourable master was still in bed. Burroughs was in ordinary circumstances courtesy itself; but he felt that he would lose a point now if he allowed himself to be kept waiting. Accordingly, with a curtness that went much against the grain, he bade Chin Tai tell the man that his honourable master must be immediately roused. His manner impressed the servant; the servant evidently conveyed the impression to his master; for in a few minutes there appeared at the door, kow-towing in the manner of an inferior humbly inviting an august visitor to enter his unworthy dwelling, a stout jolly-looking Chinaman, whose appearance strangely reminded Burroughs of a well-fed lord mayor's coachman. The horse-boy had grown in girth; his prowess as a fighting man might have won for him his present position; but at bottom he was a horse-boy still, with all the cheerfulness and ready good-humour of his kind.
Burroughs felt so much attracted to the man that he had some compunction about deceiving him; but he hoped that he could serve his friend without doing Chung Pi any harm. Accepting his invitation to enter his insignificant abode, Burroughs made a few complimentary remarks, which he ordered Chin Tai to translate scrupulously, and then plunged into his story, wishing that he could tell it himself in Chinese. But Chin Tai evidently did not diminish his master's importance; Chung Pi looked more and more impressed; and to do honour to his guest he ordered in breakfast, and regaled him with melon seeds, pea-nuts, fat pork boiled with rice, and weak tea.
Burroughs ventured to ask him whether he knew his brother.
"No," replied the man, "but I have seen him. He has a moustache like your honourable excellency's. Our fighting men envy that moustache. Not one of them has a moustache like your excellency's honourable brother. Theirs are long and silky, like mine; but, as you perceive, they turn downwards. Yours and your honourable brother's are firm and stiff like your noble hearts; they turn up, surely a sign of greatness and majesty."
This was very comforting to Burroughs. He had not before imagined that so much virtue could reside in a moustache.
It was now time to make the suggestion that he should be arrested and imprisoned with the Englishman. At this his host looked troubled.
"I am a poor unworthy captain," he said, trying to draw in his waist. "It is not for me to meddle with the arrangements made in the yamen of my august master Su Fing. Nobody but Su Fing himself, or his honourable lieutenant, Fen Ti, could do that."
Burroughs felt bound to put on an air of extreme indignation.
"Do you mean to tell me," he said, "that you will endanger the success of your master's mighty enterprise, lose the support of the greatest nation in the world, and compel me to return with the swift boat and the thousand dollars I carry? Of a truth, when your august chief returns he will think that the honourable captain he left to fill his place ought to have shown more discretion. Do you not see that if it is known I am supporting your master it may lead to war between Germany and England? My country, of course, has no fear of failure in such a war. but it suits our purpose at present to avoid it. It must be told in the ports up-river that your chief is arresting Germans as well as Englishmen."
Chung Pi, being no politician, was properly impressed by the possible momentous consequences of his refusal to have greatness thrust upon him. After some further talk, he came round to the view that it was his duty to serve Germans and English alike, and he went off to the yamen to make the necessary arrangements. On his return he explained that the room in which the Englishman was confined was at his honourable guest's service, and it would give him great pleasure to shut the two foreign devils up together. At this Burroughs feared that he had perhaps pressed the point too far: to be strictly confined would not suit him at all, So he carefully explained that the prison was a detail of no importance: all that was necessary was that it should be given out that a German had been arrested. The rumour would be carried down the river, and come to the ears of the English; whereupon the German emperor and the English king would be so much occupied in disputing which should have his man out first, that Su Fing would have plenty of time to overrun the whole province and make good his position with the aid of German gold.
Before he left Chung Pi's house for the yamen, he asked that the boat should be carefully guarded during his absence, promising to give the Chinaman a trip in the vessel before it was formally handed over to his chief. The transfer could not properly be made except to Su Fing himself, but he felt that his government would warmly approve of his handing a hundred dollars to so trusty a lieutenant as Chung Pi. He passed the notes to the gratified captain with a flowery compliment which Chin Tai took pains to embellish; and Chung Pi, well satisfied with himself and his guest, sent for his chair and an escort, put a rope round Burroughs' neck for form's sake, and was carried to the yamen, his prisoner following among the escort.
Burroughs did not much like the look of the rebel soldiers. They were the ugliest set of ruffians he had ever set eyes on. Their uniforms were as dirty as they were gaudy: cummerbunds about their waists, enormous turbans of yellow and scarlet on their heads. Some had spears, some rifles or muskets; all had immense knives thrust through their sashes.
He was surprised, however, agreeably in one respect, disagreeably in another, at the appearance of the yamen. It stood within a large enclosure, surrounded by a wall ten feet high and five thick. The gate opened upon a courtyard, beyond which stood a palatial mansion, consisting of several lofty halls rising one behind another, their walls of brick, their tiled roofs supported on massive wooden pillars. The grounds were laid out in groves and terraced gardens, and Burroughs caught a glimpse between the trees of the large ornamental water or fish-pond of which Lo San had spoken. It was surrounded by a stone quay, and crossed by a zigzag bridge of quaintly carved stone. Excellently picturesque as a residence, the yamen was, however, not pleasant to contemplate as a prison, for every gate was guarded by sentries as ruffianly as the captain's escort, and when the gates were closed, it would be an almost impossible feat to climb the stout walls.
Chung Pi descended from his chair at the entrance of the yamen, and speaking in a hectoring tone that consorted ill with his jolly friendly countenance, ordered his escort to conduct the prisoner to the inner room in which the Englishman was confined. He himself brought up the rear. Burroughs protested violently against the indignity a German suffered in being shut up with an Englishman; and Chung Pi, obviously relishing the joke, declared with a chuckle that brown pigs and black often occupied the same sty. The door of the room was opened, Burroughs was thrust in, and the door having been shut and locked, Chung Pi walked away rolling his bulky form with enjoyment.
Errington, sitting on a small stool, looking disconsolately out through a barred window upon the pleasant garden, was suddenly startled from a reverie by the sound of a voice which, muffled as it came through the door, seemed to him to be that of the Mole. He turned about eagerly, then felt a keen pang of disappointment when he saw enter the tall straight figure of a moustachioed German. But the German was smiling at him; and puzzled as he was at the fiercely aggressive moustache, he could not mistake the steady honest eyes of his old chum. He sprang up, and rushed forward with outstretched hand--then drew back suddenly, muttering with a cloudy face---
"I was forgetting."
"It's the apology, is it?" cried Burroughs. "Well then, I apologize--you old fathead!"
They shook hands--and when English boys shake hands the action has a meaning beyond the conventional. The past was buried: they were chums again.
"You've come to get me out; it's jolly good of you," said Errington. "But why are you got up like this? Where did you get your moustache? You look a regular German."
"Like Reinhardt, eh?"
"Don't mention the fellow. What a fool I've been! But I mustn't say anything against him: I owe him five hundred dollars; and to tell you the truth, I was in so much of a funk that I was actually glad the brigands collared me: it staved off the evil day."
"We'll settle with Reinhardt by and by. This moustache is his: it cost me a hundred dollars--cheap at the price."
He told the story of his comprador's enterprise, and Errington was much tickled at the opium-house keeper's having to disgorge as a fine the sum he had received for shaving off the moustache. Burroughs checked his laughter; the guards at the door must not suspect that the Englishman and the supposed German were fraternizing. He then related how Lo San had trudged the weary miles to find his master, and explained why he had come disguised as a German, and the means by which he had gained admittance to Errington's room. Errington was troubled.
"I didn't suspect that," he said. "You're running a fearful risk. If that fellow Su Fing catches you here, we shall both be in the same cart: he owes you the same grudge as me."
"Let's hope he won't come back in a hurry. He sent for more of his ruffians, which looks as if he's got his hands full. We'll get away together, old man. Chung Pi is such a genial ass that we shall be able to get over him. You haven't tried to bolt?"
"No. Not much chance with the window barred and four blackguards at the door--not to speak of a ten-foot wall, and absolute ignorance of the lie of the land. You had better leave it to the consul, hadn't you?"
"Not I. Everything has worked out well so far, and with a little luck we'll dish Su Fing."
"Look here, old Mole, there's a thing I must say. Since I've been here I've had plenty of time to think things over, and I see now what a thundering ass and ungrateful beast I've----"
"Shut up!"
"No, I've got to get it out. I chucked away my money on those cards, got into debt all round, went to the Chinky moneylenders like a fool, and cut up rough when you and Ting tried to put the brake on----"
"Oh, chuck it! Wasn't I juggins enough to wonder if you'd done me over that deal with Feng Wai? We'll cry quits, old man."
"Ting asked me to promise not to gamble again, and I let out at him. But if you'll take the promise I'll be glad. If we get out of this I'll never play for money again."