Stan Lynn: A Boy's Adventures in China
CHAPTER THREE.
"A BLOODTHIRSTY YOUNG RUFFIAN."
Stan had been long enough in the great port to know something of thehabits of the people, and he was in nowise surprised to find that notone of the employees had put in an appearance that morning; nor yet thatPi Sin, the general man-of-all-work of the household, who slept in thehouse, was nowhere to be found, for the simple reason that he haddropped from one of the windows and made off at the first alarm.
The lad was balked, then, at the offset, and had to return to his unclefor instructions.
"Gone--eh?" said Uncle Jeff. "Of course he would go. It doesn't takemuch to scare one of his kind. You'll have to fetch the barber for me,Stan. Know where he lives?"
"No," said Stan.
"Keep along the wharf-side till you come to the big pagoda half and milealong the river, and then go down the narrow lane under the pagoda wallstill you come to his place, just opposite the gate. You'll see hisshop. Tell him to come at once."
"Can he speak English?"
"After a fashion; and half-a-dozen other languages too. Tell him hemust come back with you. He'll say he can't leave home, but you say theone word `Dollar' and he'll come at once."
"I understand, uncle," was the reply; and the boy started off, feelingas if all the previous night's experience had been a dream, and as if hewere still only half-awake.
He was glad to escape from the dwelling over the offices, with theirblack, dismantled look, where all was charred wood, wet with the littledeluge of water that had been poured thereon.
The lad sniffed two or three times involuntarily as he made his way outto pass through a crowd of staring idlers of all sorts and sizes,dressed in blue cotton jackets and trousers, save those whose costumehalf-way down was a pigtail only, the other half to the groundconsisting of a pair of baggy, much-washed cotton trousers, tight at theankles, and tucked into clumsy shoes with thick white soles. They wereall staring vacantly at the damaged office and shattered windows; whilethe broken ladder, propped up in two pieces, was placed against thefront of the house, and formed the greatest attraction of all, till Stanappeared, when about two hundred and fifty pairs of beady, piggish eyeswere turned upon him, and there was a quiver of pigtails of all lengths,from a few inches to those of the finest growth, which tapped againstthe owners' heels as they walked.
"I suppose I shall get to know one face from another in time," thoughtStan as the crowd made way for him, "but at present they all seem to bealike. My word! I do feel glad to get out. The place smelt like aschool bonfire put out for fear of risk, or as the kitchen did when thecook upset part of the soup into the fire and made the rest taste justthe same as this smells.--Oh, do get out of the way, some of you!" hesaid aloud impatiently. "Can't you see that I'm in a hurry?"
"You wantee Sin?" said a high-pitched voice close behind; andStan stopped short to face a particularly meek-looking,full-moon-countenanced Chinaman in the cleanest of cotton clothes, andwithout a wrinkle of trouble in his placid face.
"Wantee you? Yes," said Stan angrily, for wakefulness, over-exertion,and hunger combined had put his nerves in a state of compoundirritation. The sight of the man, too, brought up ideas of breakfast,as well as bitter annoyance against him for his desertion of them intheir time of peril. "Why did you run away last night?"
"Lun away? Sin no lun away. Dlop down flat and clawl away so lobbeeman not see."
"Well, it's all the same," cried Stan. "Oh, you were a coward to desertus like that!"
The Chinaman smiled feebly, and there was a look of apology in his eyesas he said meekly:
"Plentee bad man makee Sin all aflaid. One man enough one man fight.One man can'tee fight gleat many. Only one Sin takee big knife and chopoff head."
"But you went away instead," growled Stan sourly. "Look here, sir, I'vea good mind to kick you."
"What good? Stan-lee kick Sin, Sin go 'way and cly. No good cookeebleakfast."
"Then I won't kick you," said the boy, who felt mollified by thesuggestion of hot tea and cake contained in the man's speech. "Here!run off and fetch the barber. Bring here."
"No come. Shavee many man."
"You say `Dollar,' and bring him along."
The Chinaman grinned and nodded.
"Come now," he said, and turned to go, but stopped short directly tolook curiously at his young master.
"Well," said Stan, "why don't you go?"
"Wantee go? Stan-lee wan tee man to shave him?"
"To shave me? Nonsense! To shave my uncle."
"What good shave uncle? Uncle killee. All loasted 'way in big fi'."
"Nonsense! He wasn't hurt."
"Not killee?"
"No."
"Not Mistee Lynn killee?"
"What! My father?"
The man nodded quickly.
"No; we fought the enemy and beat them off."
"Sin velly glad," said the man, smiling. "All say Mistee Jefflee andMistee Lynn allee kill dead and loast black. Velly good job fo' Sin.No go find new mastee. Sin lun fas' now."
He set off at a very slow dog-trot, and the lad looked after him for afew moments before walking back through the staring crowd, who hadcaught from Sin the refutation of their news, and were chatteringeagerly, and, as it seemed to Stan, looking disappointed at the factthat neither of the English merchants had been killed. In fact, theinformation just received had reduced a serious catastrophe into nothingbetter than a pitiful fire and the breaking of a few windows; but thecrowd stopped and stared all the same, just as persistently as a Londongathering would round a house where something or another had happened.
"You've been pretty quick, Stan," said his father as the lad entered theroom where the brothers were discussing the night's proceedings, withtheir loaded revolvers lying upon the table.
Uncle Jeff turned sharply and stared.
"You haven't been?" he said as he passed his hand slowly over his singedface.
Stan told of his meeting with their Chinese cook and general man.
"The cowardly ruffian!" cried Uncle Jeff angrily. "Did he say anythingabout leaving us in the lurch last night?"
Stan told him.
"Of course. Velly much aflaid. Just like a Chinaman; but they're braveenough when they're fifty to one, as they were last night. He ought tohave stood by us, Stan. We've behaved well to him."
"He's a very good servant, Jeff," said Stan's father, "and works wellfor us. Don't bully the man for what he cannot help."
"I'm not going to, Oliver. I know, and I'll forgive him if he'll onlymake haste back, bring that precious barber, and get us some breakfast.I'm starving."
As it happened, the unhappily named man came hurrying back with therazor-wielder; and soon after the latter had performed his task, turningUncle Jeff into a bluff-looking middle-aged man with closely cut hair,smooth chin, and a short, fierce moustache, Sin made his appearance atthe door, to smilingly announce that "bleakfast" was "leady," and thenstood fast, wide-open of eyes, extended of lips, and shaking gently.
"You scoundrel!" cried Uncle Jeff. "If you dare to laugh at mymisfortunes I'll kick you downstairs."
"Pi Sin no laugh at Mistee Jeff's misfoltunes," said the man piteously."Him laugh see mast' look so 'live and well when Sin tink um dead andbellied. Gleat pity didn't make shave all head and weah long tail."
"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Uncle Jeff, who was mollified by the man'swords, "Well, what's for breakfast?"
"Coffee, hot cake--"
"What!" cried Uncle Jeff. "You've had no time to make hot cakes."
"Pi Sin buy um all leady at bakee when he go fetch shave-man."
"Oh, that's how you managed--eh?" said Uncle Jeff Sin smiled.
"Make poke-pie yes'day. Nice cold."
"That'll about do--eh, Stan?" said Uncle Jeff.
"Capitally, uncle."
"Got any appetite after your fighting?"
"Oh yes, uncle; it has made me terribly hungry."
"Then come alon
g."
"Hah!" said Uncle Jeff, about a quarter of an hour later, as he wipedhis lips with a paper napkin. "Who'd ever have thought we should behaving such a breakfast as this in the old place--eh, Oliver?"
"I for one fully expected that we should be buried in its ashes," saidStan's father.
"Humph!" said Uncle Jeff; "then next time you think such dolorous thingskeep them to yourself, and don't say them to spoil your son'sbreakfast."
"They don't spoil my breakfast a bit, Uncle Jeff. More pie, please."
"You're right, Stan. Sin is a good cook, even if he is no use as afighting-man."
"Splendid, uncle."
"And we'll forgive him--eh?"
"Certainly, uncle."
Five minutes later the object of these remarks appeared, to say that aparty of gentlemen had arrived.
It was a deputation from the foreign merchants of the port, to offercondolences and help to their brethren; and on finding how little theLynns had suffered, they did not hesitate to tell them that they mighthave expected the fate that befell them, which was like a judgment uponthem for erecting their warehouse and stores so far away from theirbrother-merchants, and prophesied more evil to them if they failed nowto remove to a safer position.
"Likely!" said Uncle Jeff. "Who's going to pull a great place like thisdown and build another?"
This after their friends had gone.
"It is impossible, of course, Jeff," said Stan's father sadly. "We mustcontent ourselves with strengthening this a little more, and hope toescape by being more ready for an attack."
By this time clerks and warehousemen--the latter Chinese--were busy atwork over their daily avocations, just as if nothing had happened,though the remarks among themselves were many. The native craftsmen,too--carpenters, painters, and glaziers--were busy repairing damages,just as if, Stan thought, it was a town in old England, instead of inthe far east of Asia, when a Chinese messenger arrived, a round-faced,carefully dressed, middle-aged man, who had come in charge of aconsignment of silk from the collecting _hong_ of Lynn Brothers' housedown south on the Mour River; and one of the passages in the letter theman brought from their manager was the cause of a good deal ofperplexity at such a time.
Stan entered the room after a quiet inspection of the messenger, whosmiled at him blandly and then began to carefully trim and polish thenails of his forefingers, each of which was long and sharp and kept in athimble-like sheath of silver; while, to indicate his higher position inlife than the cook, the new arrival's dark-blue frock was of silk.
"It's very, very awkward," said Stan's father.
"Very," said his brother. "Quite impossible for me to go now."
"It is not so much help he asks for as a companion," said Stan's father.
"Some one trustworthy whom he can leave in charge for a short time whilehe is away buying or visiting at one or other of the _hongs_ up theriver."
"Yes, that is the sort of man; but how are we to get such a personwithout sending to England?"
"But he wants him now, by return boat," said Uncle Jeff testily. "Thefellow must be mad. Here, I have it," he whispered, leaning across thetable.
"You are busy, father. Shall I go?" said Stan, who noticed themovement.
"No," cried Uncle Jeff sharply, answering for his brother. "Sit down abit. Perhaps we shall want you.--Here, Oliver," he whispered; "why notsend Stan?"
"What! Oh, he's too young and inexperienced."
"Not a bit too young, and the experience will come."
"But it's so far away, and there may be risks."
"Risks? Do you think it's going to be half so risky as staying here?Because if you do, I don't."
"There is something in that," said his brother.
"Of course there is; and we can't slave Blunt to death. I meant to havestayed with him a couple of months to lighten his work; but, as we havesaid, it is quite impossible. Stan would be the very fellow."
The lad's father tapped the table with the tips of his fingers andfrowned.
"Very well," he said suddenly. "He proved that he could play the manlast night.--Here, Stan."
"Yes, father."
"Your uncle and I want you to go south to the Mour River--to our branchcollecting-house there, under the charge of our Mr Blunt."
"Very well, father," said the lad, the news coming like a shock afterthe events of the past night.
"You'll find Blunt rather rough--such a man as ought to be named Blunt--but a good fellow at bottom," said Uncle Jeff.
"I'm afraid you'll find it rather solitary, my boy," said Stan's father;"but it will be a fine lesson in business, and you'll learn a greatdeal."
"Very well, father," said the lad again coldly.
"Hullo, young man!" cried his uncle. "What's the meaning of this? Youought to be jumping for joy at the thought of going to a new place, andyou look as if you don't want to go," said Uncle Jeff.
"I don't, uncle," said the lad.
"And pray why?" said his father.
"Because you are going to send me away, father, as you don't think it issafe for me here; and I don't want to leave you both in trouble."
There was a dead silence, and the brothers exchanged glances, the eyesof both looking dark, before the senior spoke, holding out his hand tograsp that of his son.
"On my word of honour, no, Stan," he said in a voice slightly affectedby the emotion he felt. "Indeed, it is because we are--your uncle andI--in a difficulty about responding to our Mour manager's demand. Youruncle was to go, but after last night's attack it would be impossiblefor him to leave me here alone."
Stan gazed sharply from his father to his uncle and back again, withdoubt shining out of his eyes; then he said in an eager, excited way:
"Then it isn't because I seemed cowardly last night, father?"
"Cowardly!" cried the brothers in a breath.
"And because you want to send me where I shall be safe?"
"No, my dear boy--no," cried his father warmly.
"Not a bit of it, Stan, old chap," cried Uncle Jeff. "Why, we'd giveanything to keep such a proved soldier with us. It's because we can'thelp ourselves that we want to send you."
"Yes, Stan; your uncle is speaking the simple truth. But we will notpress you if you feel that you would rather stay here with us."
"Yes, father," said the boy. "I know it is dangerous, but I wouldrather stay here with you."
"Hark at the bloodthirsty young ruffian!" cried Uncle Jeff, withsomething like a tremble in his voice. "He wants to stop here and shootdown pirates by the score."
"I don't, uncle!" cried the boy angrily.--"I want to be of use to younow, father, and not to think only of myself. I'm going to this placeon that river, wherever it is, but I'm afraid I shan't be of so much useas you expect. I haven't learnt to be business-like at school, and Idon't think classics and mathematics will do much good where you want meto go."
"Don't you be too sure of that, my lad," said Uncle Jeff. "Your schoolstudies have made you more business-like than you think, boy, and a chapwho is good at mathematics can't help being good and exact over amerchant's books. Then you mean to go for us, sir?"
"Of course, uncle. When does the boat start?"
"Just hark at him!" cried Uncle Jeff. "He's ready to be off at once."
"But he isn't going so soon as that," said Stan's father, wringing theboy's hand warmly, and seeming loath to let it go.--"I dare say you'llnot start for three or four days. There are plenty of vessels sailing,but it isn't every one that touches at the port from which you must goup the river in a trading-junk. But Wing will see to all that, and getyou both passages in the first steamer that suits. Wing is a very goodman for arrangements of that kind. In the meantime you must pack aportmanteau with just the necessaries you require--the simpler thebetter."
"And before you go, my young pepper-pod, we'll try if we can arrange foranother piratical display with fireworks on the same scale as lastnight's. Will that do you?"
"Now you're
beginning to laugh at me again, uncle," said Stan in areproachful tone.
"No, no, no, my dear boy," cried Uncle Jeff warmly; "if I talk lightlyit is only to hide what I feel. I'd been looking forward to all kindsof expeditions up-country with you, whenever your father would let twosuch idlers go out for a run; but now we must wait till you come backwith one of our boatloads of silk and tea and dyewoods.--Here, Oliver,we're in luck to have such a representative.--But I say, Stan, don'ttake any notice of my face being so bare, but set to work and grow arespectable beard of your own."
"I shan't do that for years yet, uncle," replied Stan, laughing.
"What! You don't know, boy. It's a wonderful climate out here formaking your hair grow. Look at the Chinamen's tails!"
"Oh, but a lot of that's false, isn't it?"
"In some cases, my boy, but generally it is all real; and if it wereunplaited it would be longer. But don't you imitate John Chinaman. Youdon't want a long tail. You turn the hair-current from the back of yourhead on to your chin and let it grow there, so as to make you look bigand fierce, ready for dealing with the Chinese merchants."
"But I shall seem boyish for years to come, I'm afraid," said Stansadly. "I look very young."
"And a splendid thing, too," said Uncle Jeff. "Who wouldn't be you, tolook young and feel young?--Eh, Oliver?--Oh, you young masculine geesewho are always wishing that you were men, if you only knew what you aretreating with contempt, how much better it would be for you! Why, I'dgive--That'll do; I've done. Here, I'm coming with you to your room togo over your togs and odds and ends with you. I think I can give you abit of advice as to what to take and what to leave behind. Perhaps,too, I can give you two or three useful things. Haven't got a revolverof your own, I suppose?"
"No, uncle."
"Then I'll give you that one--mine. It hits anything, to a deadcertainty, if you hold it straight. Got any fishing-tackle?"
"Yes, uncle; hooks and lines with leads."
"That's right. You may like to catch a few fish to make a change inyour diet when it grows too regular. Wing cooks a little, but nothinglike so well as Sin.--I suppose we can't spare him to go with Stan here,can we, Oliver?"
"No; it would not be possible," said the latter, smiling; but his voicehad a suggestion of sternness in its tones as he added, "And I'm surethat Stan will be quite content to rough it for a while with Mr Blunt,and as long as he gets plain, wholesome food, will not worry himselfabout the cook."
"Hear him, Stan?" cried Uncle Jeff. "That's the way your father snubsme because I like nice things, and refuse to insult my inside by givingit any kind of hugger-mugger mess that is put before me.--Well, Iconfess I do like a good dinner, Oliver, and I don't see much harm init. Well, of course Stan will do his best for us. The Lynns always tryto do their best--they can't help it. There I come along and let's seeto your kit."
"Don't be in a hurry, Jeff," said Stan's father. "Let's have in Wingand ask him about the return boat. He's a very methodical fellow, and Idare say his plans are already made."
"To be sure; let's have him," replied Uncle Jeff, who rose, went to thedoor, and called to one of the clerks to send the Chinaman in. "I daresay that he has something up his sleeve about starting. Plenty of roomthere for any amount of plans--eh, Stan?" he added; with the result thatwhen the man entered, bowing and smiling in his apologetic way, Stan'seyes immediately sought and searched the long, soft, blue silkappendages which hung well over the hands, revealing just the tipsof the fingers, while from one hung out the corner of apocket-handkerchief, and from the other the end of a fan.
A little conversation ensued, in which the Chinaman announced that hehad arranged for two berths in the steamer on its return journey--eitheron its first, which would be in three days' time, or, if Stan were notable to go then, on the second, which would be in a month--allowing forits sailing to the Mour River, loading up, and returning again.
"It is a very short time," said Stan's father, with a sigh; "but he mustnot wait for a month, Jeff."
"Certainly not," was the reply, followed by an echo of the brother'ssigh.--"You'll have to be off, Stan, short as the time is.--As for you,Wing, your people say they hate us foreign devils, as they call us."
"Wing no fool, Mistee Jefflee," said the Chinaman coolly.
"I know that, Wing. You are more of a rogue than fool, as the oldsaying goes. But what do you mean?"
"Wing no fool 'nuff call good mastee foleign devil. That what foolsay."
"That's true, Wing. We have always behaved well to you and paid youhonestly."
"Why Wing stay. Mastee Olivey, Mastee Jefflee good man. Topsidemastee. Wing stop long time. You wantee Wing takee plop' ca'e youngLynn?"
"Yes; help him, and fight for him if it is necessary," said Stan'sfather.
"Light. Wing bling him back some day. Mind nobody bleak him."
"There, Stan!" cried Uncle Jeff bluffly, as he roared with laughter."Wing's going to take as much care of you as if you were a piece ofchoice china."
"Yes; takee gleat ca'e young Lynn, young mastee. Bling him back someday."
"Yes," said Uncle Jeff; "but mind this, my fine fellow: if you come backsome day without him, and say you couldn't bring him because you've gothim broken, why, then--"
He stopped short as if to think out what punishment he would award,while the Chinaman's face expanded in a broad grin.
"Wing not fool, Mastee Jefflee," he said. "No come back no young Lynn,fo' mastee killee Wing." Then, turning very serious: "Young Lynnbloken, Wing bloken allee same. Young Lynn killee, bad man killee Wingtoo."
"I see what you mean, my man," said Stan's father gravely. "You willfight for my son to the end."
"No," said the Chinaman, shaking his head and frowning; "Wing can'teefightee. Wing tly helpee young Lynn lun away. Pl'aps bad man killeeboth. Plentee bad man on Mou' Livah. Wing takee gleat ca'e youngLynn."
"Yes; that's all right, Wing. We always trust you."
The Chinaman nodded, smiled, and then approached Stan, taking his hand,bending down, and holding the back against his forehead.
"There, Stan," said his father; "you will find Wing a faithful servant,and you can trust him to help you out of difficulties, for his knowledgeof his fellow-countrymen will enable him to give you warning of thingswhich would be hidden from you.--Do you fully understand, Wing, what Iam saying to my son?"
The Chinaman bowed, and was soon afterwards dismissed.
The next three days were pretty well taken up in watching the repairs ofthe lower part of the great warehouse, and in making the finalpreparations for the start to Mour River; and during that time Stan hadthe satisfaction of learning that the principal merchants of Hai-Hai hadjoined in asking for better protection of their property in the greatport--a demand which was responded to by those in authority arrangingfor a section of the military police force being stationed nightlywithin easy reach of the hitherto unprotected up-river part where theLynns' warehouse was situated. And this was talked over on the morningwhen Stan and his Chinese attendant and guide stood on the deck of thesteamer talking to the brothers Lynn, Uncle Jeff telling the lad that hewas to take care of himself and not fidget about them, for they would besafe enough now, a pistol-shot out of a window being warning enough tobring armed assistance in a very few minutes.
"We shall be all right, Stan," said Uncle Jeff heartily; "it is we whowill have to fidget about you."
"Yes, he is quite right, Stan, my boy," said the lad's father, graspinghis hand warmly. "Send us a line as often as a boat loads up at the_hong_."
"And you will write to me, father?" said Stan, whose heart was sinkingnow that the time of parting was so near.
"Of course--regularly, my boy."
"And you too, Uncle Jeff?"
"I mean to keep a journal, Stan, and post it up regularly like aday-book, all for your benefit. There! the time will soon slip by, andyou'll be coming home again. Ah! there goes the last bell."
"So soon?" said Stan
excitedly.
His words were almost rendered inaudible by the shouts of "All for theshore!"
It was a hurried scene of confusion then for a few minutes, withrepeated warm pressures of the hand in silence, and then Stan's eyeswere being strained after a boat that had suddenly seemed to glide awaywhen the steamer quivered and throbbed and threw up a chaos of foamingwater astern. In that boat the brothers Lynn were standing up wavingtheir hats, and the little craft seemed to go faster and faster thoughthe two rowers had not yet lowered their oars.
Stan leant over the rail of the steamer, waving his hat in return, whilethe boat grew less and less, his father's features blurred andindistinct, and the great wharf seemed to be flying now while thesteamer stood still. Then the boats that had taken people to the shorewere all mixed up together in one patch, and the lad felt that hishat-wavings were all in vain, and that it was impossible for them to beseen.
There was something like a solid sigh in Stan's throat, but he choked itdown as he turned his head and looked inboard, to find that Wing theChinaman, dressed now in blue cotton, was squatted down on the deckclose behind him; and apparently he had been watching his actions allthe time, for he nodded now and smiled compassionately in his youngmaster's face.
"Young Lynn velly solly go 'way?" he said.
"Of course I don't like it--at first," said Stan hurriedly, and feelingready to resent the compassion of the man who was to be his servant.
"Wing not likee leave him fadee, modee, one time long time off. Don'teemind now. Young Lynn, Wing mastee, not mind soon. You likee eateedlinkee?"
"Not now," said Stan shortly.
"No?" said the Chinaman, as the steamer began to rise and fall steadily."Young Lynn go velly sickee? You likee lie down? Wing fetch bundleput undee head."
"No, no," said Stan quickly. "I'm not going to be ill if it keeps likethis. I don't think I should be bad if it were to come on rough."
"No?" said Wing. "Young Lynn velly good sailor. Good like Wing. Wingvelly glad. Not nicee be velly sick when steamship go up, and vellymuch baddee when steamship go down. Wait see."
Wing did "wait see," and as the steamer passed well out of the estuary,and began to run down the coast, they had a little of the vile Chineseweather that takes the form of a gale which piles the water well up andhurls it in cascades over a vessel's bows, making her quiver through andthrough, and putting her officers' seamanship well to the test. Buteven at the very worst, during the following day, Stan displayed nodisposition to keep below, but went about the deck, holding on, andrather enjoying the grandeur of the scene; while Wing was always closeat hand watching him, ready to smile in his face from time to time, andmore than once gave vent to his satisfaction by saying:
"Young Lynn velly fine sailoh; 'most good as Wing. You feel leady to godown eatee big dinnee?"
"Yes," said Stan eagerly; "this cool wind gives me a good appetite;" andhe made for the cabin stairs, closely followed by his attendant, who hadseen a little, careful procession going on from the galley, a sign thatthe midday meal was ready for such of the passengers as were ready forit.