Under the Chinese Dragon: A Tale of Mongolia

In a Chinese Prison

If Chang, the man who had so unexpectedly and suddenly led an attack upon the little party journeying via Hatsu to interview Twang Chun, the governor of the province, imagined that he had left David in a condition of terror at the thought of the execution he had threatened for the evening of the morrow, he was very much mistaken, and showed therefore that he knew his prisoner very little indeed; for David was not the one to be long down-hearted. It was not in his nature to give in without a serious struggle. No sooner had the door of his prison been banged and barred, than his spirits rose wonderfully, while he set about seeking for a remedy to enable him to beat his enemies. And the first thing that caused him joy was a discovery he made within a couple of minutes.

'The fools!' he whispered to himself, chuckling. 'The fools! They took me because I was idiot enough to fall asleep, but they forgot to search my pockets. Why, here is my magazine shooter, and here the letters I was carrying. George! Mr. Chang, I shall have something to say when the time for execution comes along; but I ain't going to wait for it if I can help; let's have a look at this cage they've put me in.'

It was a long, narrow cell, with walls formed of hewn blocks of hard stone, and lit by a range of narrow windows placed close to the ceiling. The openings themselves were innocent of glass, or of the Chinese equivalent, namely, oiled paper. Otherwise, the floor was of stone, the ceiling of a dusky white, while, save for himself and the basket in which he had been carried to the place, there was not another thing present. All was in darkness, except a wide stretch of floor on which the moonbeams played, as they crept up one of the walls till the bright patch of light ended at an abrupt edge, a faithful silhouette of the range of windows above placed on the outside wall of the prison.

'Door as safe as houses; heard the bolts shot home,' David told himself. 'Then I've got to reach those windows. Should say they're a good twelve feet from the floor; perhaps the height's even greater. Couldn't reach 'em I fancy, even with a big leap. However, I'll try; nothing like trying.'

There was nothing like keeping up his pluck either, which David did with a vengeance. He was even smiling as he stared up at the range of windows, with their edges so unnaturally abrupt as the moonbeams streamed past them, while one hand went every now and again to the depths of the secret pocket in which his magazine pistol was lying. Then he walked over to the wall and felt the surface with his fingers.

'One could get a grip with these cotton-padded soles, I should say. I'll try a running jump and see where it will land me.'

He went back to the opposite wall, and squeezed hard against it; then he sprang forward, and leaping at the far wall endeavoured to run up it. He succeeded in gaining a point within two feet of the windows, or perhaps it was less. Then he tried again and again till he was exhausted.

'No good; can't do it,' he told himself. 'I shall have to think of something else.'

He sat down on the basket and cudgelled his brains, but the more he thought and worried, the longer he stared at the range of windows, the more impossible the task seemed. Then he swung round swiftly. There was a clatter outside the door, the bolts were being pushed back from their sockets. A moment or two later the hinges creaked, while the door was thrown open. A coolie entered at once, while a second held a lamp behind him. There were half a dozen more just outside in a dimly lit passage, while in their midst stood none other than the Tartar under-officer. David rubbed his eyes, and wondered where he had seen the fellow before. Then hearing him speak, he remembered.

'Put the food and water down,' he commanded, 'and leave. It is time that we were all in our beds. Do not go near the foreign devil. There is never any saying when he and his may do injury to one of our people.'

He eyed his prisoner with none too friendly a glance, and hurried the coolie from the room. David heard the bolts shot to again, and the faint slither of departing feet. Then he rose to his feet with flushed face and a new hope in his heart. Not a second thought did he give to the food and water, for who could say that it was not poisoned? If Ebenezer Clayhill could hire a ruffian to come all that way to molest him anything might be expected. No, the food and drink did not attract him. Our hero was roused by the help which the lamp had brought him; for it had shone on the basket on which he was seated, and in a flash David realised that the affair was not merely a flimsy collection of wicker, but a well-made basket of considerable length, strengthened with pieces of bamboo, which, although light, kept the whole in shape, and gave it considerable power to resist weights placed within it. He picked it up with an effort, and running his fingers along it, came upon the holes left for the bamboo runners with which it was hoisted on the bearers' shoulders. Then, with the utmost care, and in deadly silence, he propped it up on end against the wall, at the summit of which ran the range of windows. Would it reach high enough? David stepped back, and cast an anxious eye upward.

'Might,' he said, with a doubtful shake of his head. 'Might not; anyway, I'm going to reach those windows.'

He gathered his somewhat ample allowance of Chinese garment about his knees so as to free his legs, and began to clamber upward; and presently he had reached the summit. To stand there and balance himself on the end was no easy matter, and as if to persuade him of that fact the basket suddenly canted, bringing itself and our hero with a crash to the ground. Instantly his hand went to his pistol, while he crouched over the fallen basket, endeavouring to regain his breath, for the jar of the fall had driven it out of his body. But there was not a sound from the passage; not a sound from outside his prison. Not a foot stirred; no alarm was given.

'Shows I'm in an out-of-the-way place, for that basket made no end of a clatter. When once beat, try again. Don't give up in a hurry.'

He propped up the basket again, but this time with greater care, and swarmed up it, finding little difficulty in that part of the task, for it was almost as easy as climbing a ladder, there being numerous gaps affording a foothold in the wicker. Then he steadily raised himself to his full height, and stretched his arms above his head. The window was within two feet of his fingers.

'And has to be reached. Can't get much of a spring here,' he thought, 'but it's worth trying. I'll chance the fall, for if I miss, there's a good chance of coming down standing.'

With a sharp kick he leaped at the window, and actually contrived to grip the edge with the fingers of one hand. But they slid off instantly, and within a second he was back on the floor of his prison, not so shaken or jarred on this occasion, but hot and desperate, exasperated at his want of good fortune. But as we have had occasion to remark before, David was nothing if not determined. It was that very characteristic in the lad which troubled his stepmother, and which had, no doubt, carried him safely and successfully through many an undertaking. He propped the basket into place again, ascending with all speed and caution, and drawing in a long breath, made a huge spring at the window. On this occasion the fingers of both hands obtained a grip of the edge, and retained it. He hung in mid-air, flattened against the wall of his prison, listening to the basket as it slid sideways, and finally came with a crash to the floor. Then he pulled himself up, flung one arm round a pillar dividing the window, and soon had himself hoisted higher. After that it was easy enough to squeeze his body through the narrow opening, and to lie there securely while he regained his breath.

'And what now?' he asked himself, when he was again ready for further exertion. 'Outside here there's nothing that's very promising. We came up stairs. That is to say, I recollect that my bearers carried me up a flight before entering the prison. That makes the drop below me pretty big, bigger than I'm anxious to tackle. But there's nothing else.'

It did appear as if there were no other alternative, for as he cast his eyes downwards David could detect nothing that offered a foothold below him. The smooth stone wall descended sheer to the street, which ran along under the bright moonbeams some thirty or more feet under the window. It was not an impossible drop. On the other hand, it was none too easy, and might very well result in a sprained ankle, or something equally hampering and disagreeable. Then David did the wisest thing under the circumstances. Bearing in mind the old motto, perhaps, 'look before you leap,' he cast his eyes in all directions, first in front and then behind him, without obtaining any encouragement, and then up over his head. Ah! He could have shouted: the roof was within a few inches of his hand, a roof composed of large, flat tiles, with a deep channel at each side, and sloping so gradually that to walk upon it should be easy. He reached up a hand, gripped the edge of the roof, and hoisted himself cautiously upon it. Then he lay down flat, and rolled himself slowly upward. For there was something to alarm him. A man was standing out in the moon-lit road, and was gesticulating violently.

'Seen me I'm afraid,' thought David. 'Wants to make sure before he kicks up a ruction; but they don't have me without a little trouble. Out here on this roof I ought to be able to put up a fight that'll make them careful. Bother that chap! He must have been hiding in the deep shadow over yonder, and have watched me as I clambered out of the window.'

'Misser Davie, Misser Davie.'

The words came to him as if in a nightmare. David could not believe that he had actually heard them. He put his fingers to his ears and rubbed them vigorously. But he had no sooner removed them than the words came again, 'Misser Davie, Misser Davie.'

'Awfully queer,' he thought, mopping his forehead with the tail end of a voluminous sleeve, 'I could have sworn that that——'

'Misser Davie, am dat youself, Misser Davie?'

It was undoubtedly some one calling him, and that some one was the man down below in the street. The figure gesticulated even more violently, while the voice was raised to a higher pitch.

'Am dat youself, Misser Davie? Dis Jong, John Jong, de China boy, what's you sarvint.'

It set David's heart beating like a sledge hammer. He slid at once to the very edge of the roof and stared over.

'Jong,' he called. 'That you? What's all this business about?'

'Not know't all, Misser. Me asleep, den hear a noise, and hide under de kang. Men come into de place and look for me. Den hear dem going away carryin' baskets.'

'Carrying me, Jong. I was a prisoner till a moment ago. I've just crept out of the cell in which they placed me.'

'Where Misser Dick, den?' asked Jong, promptly.

'Dick? Isn't he with you?'

David asked the question anxiously, for the safety of his friend had given him cause for great anxiety, even in spite of his own sad condition. He had not seen that second basket borne along behind him, and had no idea that his chum Dick was also a prisoner. 'Where is he?' he demanded eagerly.

'Not know; but Jong follow de fellers, and see dem carry you both in dere in de baskets. Den him wait here to see what happening. Not know what to do, Misser Davie. If me go back to de palace, den Tsu-Hi take me.'

David whistled in a low key. This was indeed a facer, though, to tell the truth, the presence of Jong in the street below was a wonderful fillip to both courage and spirits. But Dick; what was he to do about his friend?

'Can't leave him all alone, that's certain,' he told himself without the least hesitation. 'Supposing I go on a tour of inspection, for it seems to me that there is no one watching or listening. Look here, Jong,' he called out gently, 'stay where you are and watch. I'm going to find Mr. Dick, if it's possible.'

Promptly he crept away over the roof, his feet making not so much as a sound as he went, for his native shoes were as soft as bedroom slippers. Then he came to a sudden halt. David's old characteristic asserted itself. His desire to be practical, to have a plan always where such was possible, came to the fore, and he lay flat again cogitating, trying to decide how to proceed.

'No use ranging round and round aimlessly,' he told himself. 'Where's Dick most likely to be kept a prisoner? That's the question. Where's he been put? If only I can find the cell I'll manage somehow to get at him.'

A couple of minutes later he was sidling slowly again to the very edge of the roof, for higher up there was no opening. The slight slope of the big tiles led to a wall some five feet in height, rising abruptly at the highest edge of the roof, and capped itself by a second roof of huge, artistic tiles, which overhung their support far more than was the case down below. This second part went steeply upward to the summit, where the ridge was capped with a number of ludicrous and marvellously wrought dragons. It was a dead end as it were, not only to the building in that part, but also to David's hopes in that direction. Obviously there was nothing to be done there, and equally obviously the wall below him, through which he had contrived to squeeze by way of the window offered something far more likely. For was it not in the bounds of possibility that the range of windows was continued, and, if so, why should Dick not be held a prisoner in a cell into which one of the openings gave light and air?

'Hist! Jong! are you still there?'

The figure of the Chinaman steeped out into the white road, silhouetted blackly against it, and fore-shortened from the aspect from which our hero observed him.

'Misser Davie, here John Jong.'

'I may want a rope; got one?'

'Find him easy; I go now to look. Be back and hide along here till you want me.'

The dark figure slid again into the dense shadow in the far edge of the road, and though David stared and stared into it, not a movement could he discern, not a sound did he catch. Not a sound? Then what was that? Surely voices? Yes, without shadow of doubt. He kneeled up to listen, and then, as if he had forgotten all thought of the windows, one of which, if they did indeed exist, might give access to Dick, he went crawling off up the slope to the erection above it. And arrived there he hastened along the wall till he came to the edge, when he slipped round the corner. About ten feet away there was a large gap in this other side of the building, and a soft light was streaming from it. Voices were also issuing into the night air. David crawled forward without a moment's hesitation, halted when close to the gap, which was, as a matter of fact, another large window, and craned his neck round the edge. Down below him, twenty feet perhaps, there were a number of Chinese, and amongst them the rascally Tartar under-officer who had admitted them to the city. The men were stretched lazily on a long kang, which did service as bed for all of them, and were discussing matters idly. David listened for a while, then, creeping past the opening, hastened to a second of equal size, and from which also a ray of light issued. A glance into the place caused him suddenly to duck his head and retreat a little.

'Chang, Chang, of all people, eating his supper, and writing as he does so. If only I dared.'

If only he had none others to think of, save himself, David could have shot the man where he sat, though such an act would have gone hard against his conscience and his ideas of what was proper and fair play. But there was Dick to be considered, and Dick was somewhere in the building.

'Mustn't wait,' he told himself, 'no good to be obtained by staring down at that fellow. Chang was the name he gave himself. I shall remember, and one of these days I shall hope to meet him under different circumstances. Now for those other windows.'

He slipped back to his old position, crawled to the edge of the roof on to which he had at first climbed, and hung his head over it. Yes, there was a long row of windows, all in darkness, any of which might give access to the cell in which his comrade was a prisoner.

'Can't remember which I came from myself,' he groaned. 'But I'll try the lot of them. First thing is to get down, then I'll make my way from one to the other.'

To an active lad the task was nothing out of the ordinary, and in a little while David was seated on the edge of one at the far corner of the building. He peered at once into the interior, and, with the aid of the moon's rays, was able to make out the opposite wall and the actual dimensions of the place. It appeared to be empty, but the dark shadow directly beneath him might contain someone. He called Dick's name gently, repeating it till he was sure that he could not be there.

'Even if he were asleep he'd hear that,' he told himself. 'But even Dick, the happy-go-lucky Dick, wouldn't be asleep now. This business would be far too upsetting for any man. I'll get along to the next. Ah! not there. That's the crib from which I so lately scrambled.'

There was no doubt on the last question, for the moonbeams played on the platter of food and the jar of water which had been brought to him, and he realised that this was indeed the cell he had so lately vacated, for the two objects were in precisely the same position in which he had seen them placed. More than that, the edge of the huge basket which had contained his own perspiring and wriggling body was peeping out of the shadow. At once he went crawling on again, peeping into four other cells, only to find each one tenantless. Then a gentle hail from below attracted his attention.

'Masser Davie, I'se got a rope; what den?'

Jong's strange figure stood outlined on the white road again, his face as clearly seen as in broad daylight, so powerfully did the moon play upon it.

'I found de rope along de road here, and borrowed him for a little. You found de oder one? You found Masser Dick?'

There was a note of anxiety in the faithful celestial's voice, and a responding note in that of David's. For his lack of success was making him feel desperate. Supposing he could not find his chum? Could he leave the place and desert him entirely? Never.

'I'm game to do something desperate,' he breathed. 'If I don't find him in this place I'll slip along to the palace where we were given quarters, and tackle Tsu-Hi. The rascal must have been an accomplice in this attack, and with him under my pistol I could do a great deal, a very great deal I imagine.'

He sat still for a little while, running the plan over in his head. And desperate as it undoubtedly was, he decided then and there that if he failed in his quest for Dick he would carry the idea out. It should be neck or nothing. It should be Tsu-Hi's life or Dick's. Then another inspiration floated across his mind.

'Chang, why not?' he asked himself. 'If he has the power to manage a thing like this, he will have further power. With a pistol to his head he would undo what he has already managed to bring about. But it wouldn't be quite as good as the deputy-governor. What's that, Jong?'

'You sit still dere while I throw up de rope. Now, catch him.'

A coil left the Chinaman's hand, and thrown with dexterity whizzed just in front of David. He caught it with ease, and at once slipped it about his shoulders.

'Remain there,' he said. 'I'm going on looking for Mr. Dick.'

'Den you take heap of care. Dere's a light a little farder along de wall.'

Jong's arms slid out and his finger pointed.

Craning his neck and stretching out from the wall as far as possible David thought he could detect a beam of light coming from a window a little farther along. But he was not sure, for the moon was so strong and clear that it stifled every other ray of light, just as the sun's rays quench a fire. However, Jong could see, and guided by him he scrambled to the roof again, crawled along it, and then leaned over.

'A light sure enough. Better investigate—here goes.'

He was over the edge in a twinkling, and since greater caution was needful here, he dropped the toes of his padded shoes very gently on the framing of the window. Then getting a grip of the upper edge he stooped and peeped into the interior. A paper lantern hung from the ceiling and showed him a bare room, with the same stone walls. But in the far corner there was a narrow kang on which a man was seated. He raised his head as David looked in, appearing to have heard a sound. And the brief glimpse our hero obtained told him that this was the Tartar under-officer, the officious individual with whom he had already come in contact.

'Evidently got tired of the others and come to bed. Hallo! here comes another of them.'

Right opposite him was the doorway, the door being half open, and through this stepped the same man who had brought the jar of water and the platter of food. A bunch of keys jangled at his girdle, while the man yawned widely.

'Prisoners safe,' he said. 'I shall now go to my rest.'

'One moment. You have fed them? Our friend who came to the city to warn us gave strict orders to that effect.'

The gaoler nodded sleepily. 'They are fed,' he answered surlily. 'The one nearly an hour ago, the second who is placed next to you this very minute. Now I go to take food and drink to the principal apartment. The stranger of whom you speak, and who indeed seems to be of the greatest importance, tells me that his Excellency comes to talk with him.'

'S-s-she! not a word more. Forget that, friend,' said the Tartar, eagerly, his voice hardly raised above a whisper. 'Remember that his highness Tsu-Hi is ignorant as yet of these matters. He goes the rounds on the walls. When he returns to the palace and discovers that his guests are gone he will raise an uproar. He will make good his face for the enquiries which must certainly follow. Mention not the name of the deputy-governor in this affair if you wish to live longer. There, go; I too am sleepy. But wait. You said his Excellency—er—this guest comes now to speak with our friend?'

'He comes now; he is expected any moment.'

'Then I will have a word with him. He must know that I too have had a share in this business. Perhaps it will fall out that I shall regain the post which I lost but lately. Ah! foreign devils were the cause of my undoing. Willingly will I slay all with whom I come in contact.'

'The ruffian! That's the sort of fellow I've got to deal with, is it?' muttered David, who had listened eagerly, and, thanks to his own quickness and keenness to learn the language, had managed to pick up the gist of the conversation. 'So Chang and the deputy-governor are hand in glove in this affair, and the deputy seeks to throw dust in the eyes of the authorities, in other words to make his face good, as is the saying in this queer country. Why! If this isn't my opportunity! Supposing I find Dick and hoist him out, we are still in a walled city. We've still to get clear away, and very little chance of doing that as matters are. If this isn't the very thing I've been wanting.'

He shrank back as the gaoler left the room, lurching sleepily, and watched the Tartar as he too stepped towards the door. A moment later the man was gone, leaving the room empty.

'My turn now. Here goes to clear up the whole business.'

With reckless courage, and yet without neglecting his usual caution, David first peered into every corner of the room. Then he rapidly made fast his rope to the centre pillar of the window, waved to Jong in the deep shadow beyond, and at once slipped inside the building. A second later he was sliding down to the floor of the place in which the Tartar had been sitting.

Tsu-Hi is Astonished

For perhaps one whole minute David Harbor stood perfectly still, once he had slid down the rope from the window above and had gained the floor of the room in which he had seen the Tartar under-officer. He leaned forward, still gripping the cord, listening intently for any sounds there might be, and fancied as he did so that he could hear the soft-footed slither of some one in the passage.

'That fellow going along to interview Chang and the deputy-governor. Going to put in a word for himself,' muttered David. 'In that case he should be absent sufficiently long to let me take a look round. Let me see. Dick was in the next cell. Right! I'll make straight away for him.'

He crept across the stone-flagged floor, making direct for the doorway, and thrust his head round the edge so as to obtain a good view of the passage. It was empty as far as he could see. Almost directly overhead a huge paper lantern swung in the breeze, emitting a soft light, and casting its rays on either side. It was possible, in fact, to see as far as the end of the passage in one direction, where it evidently turned abruptly to the left and swept round the other side of the building. In the opposite direction shadow and gloom obscured the passage, but it made little difference to our hero.

'Runs along past all the cells into which I have already looked,' he told himself. 'I don't need to take any notice of it. Now for the one in which Dick is imprisoned. It ought to be just here on my right. No harm in searching for him at once. There doesn't seem to be a soul about this part of the building.'

He stepped into the passage promptly, and crept cautiously towards the bend where it turned along the other face of the prison. At the very corner there was a door, and the sight set his heart fluttering. But he did not venture to touch the bolts before taking the precaution to look along the gallery after it had turned. He craned his head round the corner, caught a view of a second elaborately painted lantern swaying like the first, for if this building lacked many comforts it was at least well-ventilated. The winds of heaven had free access to the interior by way of the unglazed windows, and gusts came sweeping down the gallery, beautifully cooling gusts which set the lanterns swinging slowly, twisting them upon the plaited ropes by which they were suspended, till they twirled this way and that, presenting a most picturesque appearance. But there were other things to remark on. This second lamp was hung some twenty paces along the gallery, at the foot of a flight of stone steps, by which, no doubt, the gaoler and the Tartar soldier had disappeared. David even noticed that the centre of each step was badly worn, probably with the coming and going of many people, proving either that the prison was of ancient construction, as was extremely probable, or that the stone was of a soft nature and readily worn. But here again was food only for passing interest. A man situated as he was does not find time for delaying, when his life and that of his friend are in the balance. The door just behind him had far more attractions for David, and at once he turned to it, casting his eye over the strong bolts with which it was secured.

'Done!' he groaned. 'The gaoler has the keys. How on earth am I to effect an entry?'

Then he suddenly bethought him of the window by which he had made good his own escape. Why should he not climb outside again, and creeping along the roof gain entrance to Dick's cell by way of the window? He turned to retrace his steps, and then stepping swiftly to the door he examined the lock. A second's inspection proved to him that the bolt was not shot. It was easy to make sure of that matter, for the huge, clumsy affair, the work of centuries before perhaps, was placed so far from the catch into which it should glide that one could see at once that it was not in order.

'Good! Then there are only the bolts shot by hand. This lock seems to be out of order.'

Up went his hand to the topmost bolt, and very slowly he drew it out of its socket, shivering lest the grating which was inevitable with such a rusty affair should be heard along the passage. Then he suddenly leaped round the corner of the gallery, for his ears had detected a sound. It was the slip, slip, slip of a native footstep, the slither of a cotton-padded sole coming down the flight of stone steps. The perspiration started to David's forehead, his heart beat against his ribs as if it were a sledge hammer, while the blows dinned into his ears till he felt deafened. And his eyes almost bulged from their sockets as he stared in the direction from which the sounds were coming. For though only the legs of the oncomer were as yet visible, they were sufficiently distinctive. The high boots, with their thick, white soles, could belong only to the Tartar under-officer. The colour of the garment coming into view was the same as that worn by the soldier, while, as the man's girdle came within David's vision, he saw the hilt of his sabre, heard the rattle of the scabbard as it dragged on the steps, and then caught a glimpse of the revolver which the ruffian carried. Yes, of the revolver, for if China to-day still lags behind western nations in much which appertains to learning and commerce and a host of other matters, there have been outside influences at work giving her subtle advice, and urging her to arm her soldiery not as before, with swords and lances and useless bows and arrows, but with modern rifles, with revolvers, and with the latest cannon. In that particular at least the efforts of some western nation have been successful. Careless of those of her own colour who in days to come, days perhaps very close at hand, may find themselves arrayed against the celestial nation, they have forced a market here for the surplus output of their arsenals, and have gathered Chinese gold for modern weapons which may well be employed to slay their own people. But here was only a single illustration. David had remarked when entering this walled city of Hatsu upon the modern rifles of the Tartar-guard. His sharp eyes had detected the weapon carried by their under-officer. And here it was again, proof positive that the man who was descending the last few steps was this very individual, than whom he would have rather encountered any one. What was he to do? Rush back into the cell and clamber up the dangling rope?

'No,' he told himself promptly, though he retraced his steps at once and darted into the cell. 'There's no time for that. He'd catch me half-way up, and besides, even if he didn't I couldn't get the rope hauled out of sight before he entered. I might slip along the passage, but I should be no better off, for still he would see the rope. I'll chance a meeting.'

As if it were the old days at school, and he were about to engage in a tussle with the gloves on, he gripped at the baggy sleeves which were such a constant nuisance to him, and folded them up near his shoulders, leaving his arms exposed. Then he stood stiffly upright behind the half-closed door to listen, holding his breath, trying vainly to still the beating of his heart. Suddenly as the Tartar's steps were heard outside the cell, David became as calm as he had ever been in his life before; for after all, he was by no means different from many men of the same temperament as himself. To worry before trouble came along, as Dick was so fond of saying, was only natural to our hero. He was by instinct cautious and careful, and as is the case with many of similar disposition, there was always a tendency to fluster and unusual excitement prior to a struggle. David had been all of a tremble before now, although he had acquitted himself right well when blows were actually falling. And the same thing had happened here. Like the man who enters an action with his knees knocking, and who readily admits that he is nervous, David had prepared for this inevitable meeting with a fast-beating heart, with trembling limbs, and with a forehead from which the moisture was dripping. One who did not know him might almost have accused him of cowardice. But now that the struggle was about to begin he was a different individual. His eyes were bright, his mouth fast closed, and his muscles braced and ready. Not the smallest sound escaped his attention. He heard the Tartar enter the cell, then saw his fingers close on the door and caught the creak of the rusting hinges. Then he stepped forward.

'Silence!' he commanded sternly, placing his back against the door and pushing it to with a bang. 'Not a word, or I will kill you.'

Utter astonishment was written on the man's face; the soft rays of the swaying lantern falling on his features showed that he was entirely taken aback. The corners of his mouth drooped suddenly, his eyes started forward, while his fingers clutched at his clothing. But it was only for a moment. An apparently unarmed man stood before him, the youth whom he had so lately helped to capture. Promptly his hand sought his revolver.

'Dog! It is you, then? You are my prisoner.'

The revolver was more than half out of the girdle by now, and in another second would be at David's head; but the latter was watching the Tartar like a cat. His sharp eyes caught every movement, and at once, with a swift movement, he was on the man. His right arm went back quickly, and then jerked out like a flash, the fist striking the Tartar hard and full between the eyes. The result of this telling blow, so far as the Chinese rascal was concerned, was disastrous. He was knocked clear from his feet, for the youth who had struck was no chicken. David had weight and strength behind his arm, and, moreover, a desperate man finds added strength on such occasions. The blow, in fact, tossed the Tartar backward, causing him to perform a half sommersault, and to come to the ground with an alarming crash, his head being the first portion of his anatomy to come in contact with the stone flagging. And in a second David was on him, gripping him by the neck.

"IN A SECOND DAVID WAS ON HIM"

'Silence! Not a word,' he repeated, while his hand went to the man's revolver and drew it from his girdle. But the Tartar did not wince when the cold muzzle was thrust in his ear. He lay inert, his eyes closed, as listless as a sleeping baby.

'Stunned! Knocked out of time. Not used to an Englishman's fist,' gasped David. 'Let's make quite sure that he isn't foxing.'

He leaned over the man, and placed his ear close to his mouth. Yes, he was breathing—breathing loudly. In fact there was considerable stertor. David lifted a limp arm, and when he released it it fell back with a hollow thud to the ground. He tilted back the eyelids, and though he had but little knowledge of such matters, he could not help but remark that the pupils were equally dilated. There was little doubt, in fact, that the unfortunate but scheming and pugnacious Tartar was stunned by the terrific blow which he had received. It was altogether a revelation to the young fellow crouching beside him. He kneeled close by the man, staring into his face and wondering. He could hardly believe that a moment before he had been face to face with extreme danger and difficulty, and that one sudden movement on his part, one strong blow, had set aside the trouble.

'But has it? There are other people in the prison who will have to be dealt with. There is Chang; there is Tsu-Hi, the dishonest deputy-governor who has so far forgotten himself, and the honour to which all decent-minded Chinamen cling in their belief that, come what may, hospitality to a guest should never be abused. Yes, there is Tsu-Hi, who has shown the utmost treachery.'

David told himself sternly that they must be dealt with. He stood up, still with his eyes on the fallen Tartar. But he was not thinking of his late enemy; he was thinking of the arch-schemer hired by the man in England who should have been as a father to our hero. He was thinking also of the difficulties still before him, of the opposition still to be set aside before he and Dick and Jong could set foot outside the city. Then his face became sterner than ever; the eyes were half-closed as he stared at the Tartar. The scheme which he had first happened on when clambering along the ledge of the windows came back to his mind with redoubled force.

'Yes,' he said, 'they must be dealt with, those two men. First to release Dick, and then we'll talk to them.'

But even now he did not venture out of the cell. He pulled the door open quietly and peeped round into the passage, to find it deserted. There was not so much as a sound, save the gentle rattle of the stiffened paper streamers attached to the lantern swaying overhead.

'No one about. Goaler gone to bed, and the rest of them upstairs where I saw them with the Tartar fellow who is lying stunned in here. But supposing some one were to come along, I should be spotted in a minute. I must have some disguise, I——'

His eyes swung round to the figure stretched on the floor, and for a little while he stared at the fallen under-officer. A keen light came into his eyes, and once more he closed the door of the compartment. Then, swiftly and full of his purpose, he stripped the man of his clothing.

'Just about my size,' he told himself. 'Anyway, I've got to get into his things, whatever happens. Wish there was a glass here; but, as there isn't, I must make the most of it. Ah, boots fit to a T. Cap ditto. This big cloak fits only where it touches, so that don't matter. Now for the gentleman himself. Won't he have a headache in the morning!'

Quickly he pulled off his own garments, coiled his pigtail up on top of his head, and jammed the Tartar's cap on top of it. Then, having donned all his garments, which were voluminous, to say the least of them, he tied the frayed, silken girdle round his middle, attached the clanking sabre, and pushed the revolver home. When he stood up he was by no means a bad copy of the truculent individual who had first greeted him at the entrance of the city.

'And now to get rid of him and my own clothes. Ah! I know. Into the bed with him. Shy the clothing out of the window.'

He was not the one to waste time when the minutes were flying swiftly, and when there might be an interruption at any moment. David bundled the unconscious Tartar on to the kang, covered him with a faded quilt, and tied his own discarded clothing into a bundle. A dexterous heave sent it through the window, and if only he had known it, caused the faithful Jong the greatest consternation.

'What dat?' he asked, standing back in the dense shadow which hid him. 'Something come plump from de window. Not likee de look of him at allee, not at allee. Heart go plippee-plappee when ting like dat happen. Suppose I go over and have a look.'

He was in the very act of stepping out on to the white highway, which gleamed in the pure rays of the moon, when his sharp ears caught a sound. Some one was treading the narrow path which ran beside the road; some one was approaching. Jong lay flat in the shadow, hugging the wall, and stared out into the open. Presently a man's figure hove in sight—a man dressed in elaborate military costume, his flowing robes blowing about his feet, the flat cap on his head surmounted by a wide button. Nor did it want two glances at the stranger to disclose the fact that this was Tsu-Hi, the deputy-governor of the walled city of Hatsu, an official with absolute powers for the moment of life and death; one who, discovering Jong where he lay, could, with one single nod, condemn him to instant execution. No wonder, therefore, that the Chinaman shivered, and squeezed his body still further into the shadow, wishing that the ground might rise in a friendly manner and cover him. He scarcely dared to breathe, while, so terrified was he, that his teeth almost chattered together. Then, quite by accident, his hand touched the hilt of the knife he carried in his belt. The sudden contact seemed to bring him courage. Jong gripped the weapon and drew it, his eyes fixed all the while on the figure of Tsu-Hi.

'He is alone; he is the cause of all this trouble,' he whispered. 'Let him show that he has seen me and I will send him to join his ancestors; yes, to join them with treachery in his heart.'

But the official made no sign. He came stepping down the path slowly, as if deeply engaged with his thoughts. His hands were tucked into the baggy sleeves he wore, while his eyes were dropped on to the roadway. He passed the spot where Jong was secreted, advanced slowly to the steps which led to the door of the prison, and lifted a hand to summon those within. Jong heard the clang of a gong somewhere in the distance. And David heard it. He was at that very moment about to slide back the last of the two bolts that secured the door of the cell in which he imagined Dick to be when the deep, musical note of the gong sounded down the passage, coming from a spot somewhere above, at the top of the flight of steps down which he had watched the Tartar descending. And then he heard a sharp rapping in the opposite direction.

'A visitor; perhaps Tsu-Hi,' he thought. 'What's to be done now? Who'll admit him?'

For one instant the mad idea occurred to him that he himself would go to the door and let the deputy-governor in.

'I could overawe him at once, and bring him in here,' he told himself. Then he shook his head emphatically. 'Might spoil everything. I want help before I move any further; I must have Dick beside me.'

Clang! The gong sounded again, the note ringing down the passage, and then there was silence. No one answered the summons; there was not so much as a step to be heard. David reflected that the gaoler was in bed, and fast asleep in all probability.

'While the fellow outside will be getting impatient, he'll make more and more noise, and we shall be having some of the Tartar soldiers. That won't suit my plans. There! he's hammering. I'll do it; I'll chance the whole thing. In for a penny in for a pound, isn't a bad motto on some occasions.'

He made up his mind in an instant, and pulled the door open. Listening for a few seconds, and hearing no sound from the interior of the prison, he hurried along to the left, where he guessed the door must be. And at the far end of the gallery, where the shadows lurked, he came upon it, and stood for a while listening to the rat-a-tat-tat of the impatient official outside.

'Open!' he heard the man call, angrily. 'Open for Tsu-Hi. Do not keep me waiting out here where folks may see me.'

David pulled the bolts back swiftly, and tugging at the door dragged it open, keeping himself well within the passage.

'Dog! Why do you keep me so? Sleeping, eh? Sleeping when you should be on duty? Have a care. Though the governor is away from the city on important business, there are yet powers in the hands of his deputy which may make a servant sorrow. A head has been chopped for an offence even less than this.'

If he had expected an answer Tsu-Hi was disappointed, for David still held himself in the background, kow-towing as he judged the gaoler would do, and saying not a word.

'Mustn't open my mouth or he'll see that I'm not a Chinaman, nor even the Tartar officer. If he don't move in precious quick I'll take him by the neck and drag him into the passage.'

Our hero's teeth were set fast together, while he was fully ready for any emergency. Now that matters had gone so far favourably for him, he was determined that this treacherous deputy-governor should not overthrow all his plans. That it was Tsu-Hi a swift glance had told him without error. His hands itched to get a grip of the ruffian, and silence him, but still he bent low, kow-towing humbly; and perhaps it was his silence and his apparent humility which appeased the governor. He stepped into the passage and waited there, his hands tucked out of sight again, while David pushed the door, and shot the bolts home.

'Now lead me to the room occupied by this Chang, who came so unexpectedly to the city.'

To say that David was in a serious dilemma was hardly to describe the situation correctly. He was desperate, for he judged that Tsu-Hi must have some knowledge of the prison, and was it likely that he would expect to discover Chang, a man considered already to be of some importance, in a cell abutting on this dreary passage? Surely there must be guest chambers, guest apartments for the few who came to such a place as a prison for any other reason than to fill the cells?

'Can't help it if there are,' muttered David. 'He's got to come with me, and if he thinks that the place in which I found the Tartar fellow is not good enough, well I can't help it. I'll give him a crack that'll knock the wind out of his body.'

He lifted the scabbard of his sabre, fearful that its clanking might arouse the suspicion of his visitor, and then stepped in front of him down the passage. At the open door of the room he had just vacated he came to a halt, kow-towing in that direction.

'In here! Why, fool, this is not a guest chamber.'

'In here, Excellency,' David murmured. 'He wished to be near his prisoners.'

Would the governor detect the broken accent? Did he already suspect that his companion was other than he imagined? For Tsu-Hi stood still regarding the man who had admitted him. Something about the accent undoubtedly attracted his attention. But he was thinking more of Chang than of anything or any one else, Chang and the foreign devils whom they, between them, had so cleverly captured. Then he put back his head and laughed, an almost silent laugh, in which there was a ring of triumph.

'He, he, he! So as to be near his prisoners,' he gurgled, opening a wide mouth between the thin lips of which an uneven and irregular row of yellow fangs were displayed. 'To be near his prisoners, as if he would take a tender farewell of them and see as much of their faces as possible before their hour comes. He, he, he! This Chang is a witty fellow.'

'What an old ruffian!' thought David, still, however, kow-towing. 'Little tenderness we may expect from him, or from Chang either. In a moment I'll make him laugh on the other side of his ugly mouth. Here, Excellency,' he murmured once more, pushing the door a little wider open. 'Enter.'

The gorgeously dressed official was still shaking with suppressed amusement as he passed under the doorway. His hands were buried in his sleeves, and he was actually hugging himself.

'A right merry fellow, this Chang! Who is he? Whence does he come with such a timely warning? He will be an excellent fellow with whom to chat and pass a few hours while others are sleeping. And then, when this thing is finished, he will go. The Government will send urgent orders for his arrest, while I shall have already despatched men to search for him, men who are led by a blind officer unable to find the right track.'

It made him hug himself the harder when he considered how cunning he was, and how he would hoodwink every one; for the deputy-governor was a cunning rascal. Still smarting under the severe reproof he had had administered on a former occasion when Europeans were molested in this walled city of Hatsu, and by the loss of dignity which had resulted, the man, like thousands more of his countrymen, bore a lasting grudge against foreign devils. He was one of the many jacks-in-office who still help to sway the affairs of the celestial empire, clinging tenaciously and with great stubbornness to old methods, for a Chinaman is nothing if not conservative. The views his ancestors held are good enough for him, their education fills his needs, while the ancient system whereby a few live in luxury, and the vast majority in grinding poverty is a model of all that is required. Some there are, and their numbers are steadily increasing, who have gained much by contact with the outside world, for whom travel has relieved them of much arrogance. But the knowledge they possess of the superiority of western nations in many things is lost in the sea of ignorance, of bigotry, which is prevalent throughout the kingdom. One swallow does not make a summer. One enlightened mandarin does not result in the rising of a mighty nation, in the break-up of all its cherished customs, in its advancement in the paths followed by others privileged to live under wiser government.

'To-morrow this Chang shall go. I myself will direct him, and also those who shall set out in pursuit in the opposite direction. Greeting, my friend.'

Tsu-Hi stalked majestically into the room and stood beneath the swaying lantern, his eyes blinking in the light as he searched for the man he had come to visit. He had half-expected him to be there before him, kow-towing to the ground, for this jack-in-office loved humility in those who served him. Then he caught sight of the figure huddled beneath the patched and stained quilt spread over the kang, and chuckled loudly.

'He sleeps, worn out with his efforts to warn us, but he will welcome the deputy-governor. I will rouse him.'

He stepped across to the kang, and touched the figure lying there. He pulled the quilt back with a sharp jerk, disclosing the face of the Tartar under-officer. But even then he did not realise that this was not Chang, the man whom the Tartar had brought so secretly to him that evening. It was only when, hearing the door bang, and turning slowly he discovered the figure of the Tartar who had admitted him advancing swiftly that Tsu-Hi became alarmed.

'Insolence!' he cried. 'What is this? Who bade you follow in here? Begone at once, else——'

Even then he had not penetrated the disguise of the youth before him, though his alarm increased seeing that David did not halt, but came on towards him. But, of a sudden, he grasped the real truth, for a revolver already grinned within two feet of him. He started backward against the kang and fell upon it A second later he was up again, and running towards the door like a startled rabbit, but David stopped him in a manner to which this very important official must have been a stranger since his earliest boyhood. He gripped Tsu-Hi by the shoulder, and with a heave tossed him heavily into the corner. Then he dragged him to his feet again, and pressed the muzzle of his weapon hard against his head.

'Silence! Make a sound and you are a dead man. Strip off your garments.'

How Jong would have giggled had he been able to see what was passing, for he would have enjoyed to the full the terror of this mandarin. Tsu-Hi's eyes indeed threatened to start from his head, while he shook so violently that his limbs would hardly support him. But the revolver gave him some sort of strength, that and the threatening looks of this hated foreign devil. Rapidly, as if he longed to be rid of them, he dragged off his gorgeous garment.

'Boots, too,' commanded David fiercely. 'Now lie down on that kang. You can push the man farther over. Not a sound, mind, or I'll rid this city of a deputy-governor.'

Little more than ten minutes later David emerged from the cell, leaving Tsu-Hi trussed like a fowl, bound hand and foot with strips torn from the quilt, and nicely muzzled with a ball of the same wedged between his teeth and secured in position. He pulled the door to, shot the bolts home, and strode along the passage.

Dick and David Turn the Tables

'Dick, it's time we were moving. Come along out of this hole, and give me a hand to get us out of the city.'

David had thrown back the bolts of the cell next to the one into which he had so boldly descended, and stood in the doorway holding a huge paper lantern before him. He had taken it but a minute before from the roof of the passage, the operation being easy for the simple reason that there was a pulley and tackle, whereby the man who saw to the replenishing of the lanterns could gain access to them. Now he was staring into the cell, his eyes fixed on the figure of his old comrade.

'Come along, lad,' he called again softly, seeing that Dick did not move from his position on the basket, where he sat somewhat disconsolately. 'Time we were moving.'

It made him laugh to see the prisoner rise slowly to his feet and rub his eyes as if he could not believe what they were telling him. Then he had occasion to speak sharply. For it appeared that Dick had fallen asleep while seated, and imagining that he had heard David's voice in a dream, and not when possessed of all his senses, he took it for granted that the figure at the door was actually that of the Tartar. He dashed forward swiftly, evidently with the intention of attacking.

'Stop!' cried David sharply. 'Don't be a fool. Shake yourself, and then you'll see who I really am. Quick! We've no time to waste. We've heaps of work before us.'

'Well, I never! You take my breath away. What next will you appear as?' gasped Dick, recovering his senses, and stepping forward to wring David's hand. 'What next? A Tartar under-officer now, and I suppose you had to steal to get the clothing. To-morrow you'll be stalking about as the deputy-governor.'

'No, I shall not; but you will.'

'I! Disguised as the deputy-governor! Look here, David, are you silly, or have I gone clean staring mad? I as Tsu-Hi, indeed! The rascal's safely tucked in bed at this moment.'

'He is; agreed,' admitted David curtly, a grin on his lips.

'As safe as houses in his gilded palace,' said Dick bitterly.

'Wrong! He's not in his gilded palace. He's tucked safely in bed along with that pompous Tartar under-officer. He's tied up as if he were a dangerous hyena.'

Dick scratched his head energetically, and rubbed his eyes again. He was seriously anxious about his old friend, who had so suddenly come to visit him. The stubborn look on his face, his evident determination, and the curtness of his answer roused an awful suspicion in his mind. Was David mad, driven out of his mind by this sudden trouble? Then he shook his head.

'It's I who am a fool,' he whispered. 'Here he is in Tartar uniform. That shows he's been moving. But this business of Tsu-Hi beats me altogether; it knocks the stuffing entirely out of yours truly.'

'It'll knock the stuffing out of someone else I know of.'

David blurted out the words gruffly, while a frown crossed his forehead.

'Sit down for a moment,' he said shortly. 'I'll tell you what's been passing. Don't ask a heap of questions. We're still in a beastly hole, and unless everything is in readiness we shall be too late to slip out of the city. Sit down; for goodness sake don't interrupt.'

He sate himself down beside his friend, and told him as swiftly as possible of Chang's visit, of his own escape, and of what had followed.

'And now you're going to be Tsu-Hi,' he said abruptly. 'No use in my changing these clothes. You can do the work as well as I can. Let's get along into the other room, and then you can strip off your things and dress in Tsu-Hi's gorgeous raiment.'

'And then?' asked Dick, beginning to grin and bubble over, for the adventure amused him vastly. 'And then, my noble sir, what do I do? Go to the palace and command the foreign devils to be brought before me. Sign their death warrants, and see them executed. Oh, Lor'! I see it all. Here's a splendid ending. We put this Tartar beggar into your clothes, and Tsu-Hi into mine, and let Chang behead 'em as if they were actually foreign devils.'

He would have roared with laughing, had not David stopped him angrily.

'Utter rot you do talk, Dick,' he said severely, though he was bound to smile at the reckless jollity of his comrade. 'You become the deputy-governor, and in due course you will go to the palace, and I with you. For the moment, you've got to dress. Come along—no more jawing.'

They crept along the passage to the cell in which Tsu-Hi and the Tartar lay together, where Dick quickly arrayed himself in the finery of the fallen governor.

'How do I look, old chap?' he asked, posing beneath the lantern, and before the eyes of the man he was representing. 'A bit of a sport, I think. What? Ain't I handsome?'

'You're an idiot!' declared David crossly, though he was bound to laugh. 'Tsu-Hi looks as if beheading wouldn't be enough for you. But let's get to business. Tie your own clothing into a bundle. Now, let me have it.'

Gripping the rope which dangled from the window-frame, and holding the bundle between his teeth, David swarmed up till he was able to get a grip of the edge above. He straddled it at once, and then whistled softly. At once Jong's figure shot from the shadow. The Chinaman crept into the centre of the road.

'Catch!' called David, tossing the bundle; 'and pick up the one I threw before. 'Listen to this, Jong. Mr. Dick and I have captured Tsu-Hi. We'll be coming out in a moment, when we shall go direct to the palace. Once there, you'll have to bring out the ponies without delay, and get our goods packed on them. I shall want a cart also.'

He waved to the man, and slid into the room again, slipping down the rope as if he were a sailor.

'Where'd it come from?' asked Dick, nodding to the dangling cord. 'Who fixed it?'

'I did. Jong is outside; he threw it up to me.'

'Then you could have slipped down then and there, and got clear away? Ain't that it?'

'I suppose so,' admitted David grudgingly.

'My uncle! Then why didn't you?'

Dick turned sharply upon him, his face serious, a flush on his cheeks.

'Why didn't you?' he demanded fiercely.

'Because—oh, look here,' said David lamely, 'we're wasting time. What's the good of jawing?'

'Why didn't you?' demanded Dick again, his manner resolute, ignoring his comrade's efforts to change the conversation; then, finding that David did not answer, he clapped a hand on his shoulder.

'All right,' he said, with a curtness which matched that of the lad who had released him. 'I know well enough. It's one up for you, anyway. Could have escaped, but wouldn't, simply because there was a wretched beggar owning to the name of Dick still left in the building. Right, my boy, I'm not going to forget it. Now, what orders?'

'Glad you've returned to business,' exclaimed David. 'What orders?'

'Yes. You give 'em. This is your own little affair. What are they? Call up the garrison, march to Chang's quarters, and then set fire to the city? Eh? What are they?'

The merry fellow was bubbling over again at the thought of his own impertinence. He smacked his thigh loudly, as he considered what a reversal of fortune the night had shown to the various parties. It made him giggle hugely to see Tsu-Hi, trussed indeed, glaring from over the top of the greasy bandage with which David had had the temerity to secure the gag that silenced him. In fact, Dick was ready for any piece of mischief that David cared to invent, and, if he were backward, this young fellow was ready himself to supply the want, and urge a plan which for recklessness would easily have matched that of his comrade. But then he was a merry, light-hearted youngster. He wanted the depth and stability that David enjoyed. The latter put a stop to his chatter with a sudden movement.

'Don't imagine we're out of the wood yet,' he said. 'I've got my plans, but whether we can carry them out is another matter. First and foremost, we have to collar Chang. I've seen him already in a room on a higher level than this, located on the other side of the building. You're game, I suppose?'

Dick led the way to the door, his eyes flashing. 'Game for anything,' he cried. 'But I'll be silent and cautious. You can trust me.'

'Then come along; bring the lantern with you. If we meet any one don't utter a word. Pass them in silence. Recollect that you are deputy-governor, the chief official of the city, to whom all will give obedience. And one thing more. This Chang is expecting a call from you. When we reach the room pass in boldly. I shall make a jump at him.'

Picking up the lantern Dick fell in beside David, and the two passed into the passage, having first, however, inspected their prisoners. The Tartar under-officer was breathing stertorously, and was still evidently unconscious. As for Tsu-Hi, he was as helpless as a baby. All he could do was to glare at the foreign devils; for his eyes were the only parts that the unfortunate governor could completely control. They pulled the door shut after them, and shot the bolts. Then they hastened past the cell in which Dick had been imprisoned, closing the door as they did so, and proceeded up the flight of stone steps which led from the far end of the passage. Nor had they much difficulty in calculating where Chang was in residence. For David had a fair bump of locality, and his meanderings on the roof of the prison had given him invaluable information. He came to a halt opposite a narrow door, and motioned to Dick to move along farther. Then he slid to the floor, and applied his eye to the crevice which existed beneath the woodwork. A moment later he was on his feet, his face beaming.

'There's a light in there,' he whispered, 'and I'm sure I saw his legs. Half a minute while I make another inspection.'

This second time he was sure that he could see the feet of some individual, though whether it were Chang or some one else there was no saying. It was a man. That was sufficient.

'I'll give a knock,' he whispered. 'When he calls I'll push the door open and announce Tsu-Hi. Enter at once without hesitation. But first, pull that cap well down over your eyes. That'll do. Walk straight across the room. He's nearly certain to follow. Then I'll jump on his back. Got it?'

Dick grinned. He had got the plan securely. The effort he was about to make was just the one to delight him. It appealed to his merry mind, for the idea was so bold that there was huge excitement in the attempt to carry it out. How he longed to bring about the discomfiture of this rascal, for David had told him enough to allow him to gather what had happened, though it was hard to believe that the man who had married his friend's stepmother could from England, so far away, control the action of an accomplice in China. Chang was an out and out ruffian, he told himself, but nothing in comparison with Ebenezer Clayhill.

'Righto!' he smiled. 'I'm ready. You bet, I'll be his haughtiness himself.'

'Enter,' came a sharp summons from inside, as David knocked. 'Enter, and welcome.'

'I don't think,' muttered Dick, with a grin. 'Open it, David, my boy.'

It would have done the Professor's jovial heart a world of good could he have seen how the young fellow carried himself. It seemed that Dick was a born actor. He waited tranquilly for David to push the door open, and then, with hands tucked well within his sleeves, and his magazine pistol secured within one of them, he advanced pompously and slowly, casting a single glance at the individual who had summoned him to enter. It was Chang without a doubt. He had risen from the table pen in hand—for he had been writing—and stood aside to allow free passage to his Excellency, kow-towing deeply.

'His Excellency, Tsu-Hi,' announced David, mimicking as well as he was able the voice of the Tartar he represented.