CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.
"WING'S A--CHINAMAN."
Several anxious days were passed, during which a sharp lookout was keptfor the return of Wing with the ammunition; but still it did not come,and, as Blunt reasonably said, they could not settle down comfortably toinvention and forms of defence by schemes until they could feel preparedtemporarily for an emergency.
"Once we have two or three cases of cartridges in hand we'll go to workat our plans. But this waiting takes it out of a man."
"It is giving you time to get a little stronger," replied Stan.
"Oh, bother that! I could grow stronger fast enough if my mind werequite at rest I'm beginning to think that poor old Wing has come togrief, and if he doesn't reach here by to-morrow night I shall make up alittle cargo and send Mao with an urgent despatch to the principals.It's growing serious. Here, come and let us plan what to send."
"You had better rest patiently," said Stan. "Who's to rest patientlywith not a dozen rifle-cartridges on the premises?"
"You," said Stan, smiling.
"What! Do you know the enemy may even now be on their way to make afresh attack?"
"No, they mayn't," replied Stan.
"What! How do you know?"
"By seeing your weather-glass point to fine weather."
"My weather-glass?"
"Yes--old Mao. He seems to be as satisfied as possible, sitting smokinghis opium-pipe and watching his men caulk and varnish the _Chee-ho_."
"Well, he does look pretty well content; but it's weary work waiting,and I feel convinced that the message has never reached the principals."
"I can see a proof," cried Stan excitedly, "that you are only looking onthe black side of things."
"What do you mean?" said Blunt, staring at the way in which the lad hadsprung to his feet to run to the open window looking down the river.
"Here's the boat in sight, sir," cried Lawrence, hurriedly opening thedoor.
"What! our boat?" cried Blunt excitedly.
"Yes, sir, with Wing showing his signal. Try the glass, sir."
Blunt snatched the glass offered to him, but before he could get to thewindow and focus it with his trembling hands, Stan had taken down hisown binocular and was leaning out, bringing the matting-sailed boatclose into the room, as it were.
"Yes," he cried, "there's Wing holding up a little flag so that it blowsstraight out."
"A pocket-handkerchief Union-jack?" cried Blunt.
"Yes, that's it; and there's some one else on board beside the boatmen.Why--yes--no--yes--no.--Oh, do stand still, whoever you are! I can'tsee if you bob about so.--Yes, it is. Look, Mr Blunt--look! Here'sUncle Jeff come so as to see everything for himself."
"Right, Lynn, right," cried the manager; "so it is. Three cheers forhim. We'll give them when he's close up. Well, hurrah for one thing!We're not going to show him the ashes of his big warehouse along withour burnt bodies."
"Ugh!" cried Stan. "What a gruesome idea! Let's get out and have theflag hoisted on the pole."
"Ah! and we'll have every one out too, so as to give him a warm welcome.But are you quite sure it is your uncle?"
"Certain," cried Stan proudly. "You never saw anybody but Uncle Jeffstanding up in that free-and-easy way, just as if he didn't care a snapof the fingers for the whole world."
"Yes, that's Mr Jeffrey," said Blunt, lowering his glass and drawing ina deep breath; "the very sight of him seems to do a man a power of good.Out with you, Lynn, and send Lawrence to hail the boys. We'll all turnout and man the edge of the wharf. I want your uncle to see that Ihaven't lost a man."
A few minutes later clerks, warehousemen, and coolies were all standingat the edge of the wharf, with the flag fluttering and straining fromthe halyards, where it had been run up to the head of the signal-pole;while as soon as the boat came within hailing distance Lawrence acted asfugleman and headed three good, hearty, welcoming cheers. These, inspite of the admixture of Chinese squeak from the throats of thecoolies--a squeak which ended with a hoarse croak--sounded so pleasantto Uncle Jeff's anxious ears that he whisked off his sun-helmet, tossedit on high, and gave forth a thoroughly deep, hearty British hurrah,while, not to be outdone, Wing, who stood behind, bared his pig-tailedhead to wave his lacquered, shining black hat, and echoed the shout withhis alto pipe.
In another minute the sail was being lowered, and the next, as the boatglided up against the wharf, Stan sprang on board, to have his handsgrasped by his big, manly relative.
"Why, Stan, boy," he cried, "we never thought we were going to send youout of the Hai-Hai frying-pan into the Nang Ti fire. But you were notburnt?"
He held the lad back at arm's-length and uttered a loud puff like awhale getting rid of its confined breath.
"No, I can see you were not. Eyes bright, colour fresh, and hearty ascan be. Hah! that's a comfort. We shouldn't have sent you if we hadknown.--Here, Blunt," he continued, "do you call this management,bringing down all the ruffians of the river to attack the place! Why,hang it, man! you do look as if you have had more than your share oftrouble. You've lost pounds since I saw you last. Coming round again,though, I can see."
"Yes; there's nothing much wrong now," was the reply as the pair shookhands heartily. "The wound's healing up nicely, thanks to Wing here.--Well, Wing, how are you?"
"Badly," was the reply. "Been fletting."
"Fretting? What about?"
"Misteh Blunt and young Lynn. S'posee pilate come back and Wing notbling ca'tlidge."
"But you've brought them now?" said Blunt eagerly.
"Yes, plenty big box full. Bling Misteh Jeffley too. All leady fighteewhen pilate come."
"And a very welcome recruit if needed," said Blunt, smiling. "But wedon't want any more of that work--at any rate till I get strong again.--You've heard, Mr Lynn, how I caved in and left your nephew to fight thebattle?"
"Oh yes. I've heard all about it from Wing," said Uncle Jeff dryly. "Igave him a lesson in the use of the revolver before he left home, but Ididn't know he was going to turn out such an awful fire-eater as hehas."
"Don't you think you had better come in and have something to eat,uncle?" said Stan quietly. "It will do you more good than making fun ofme."
"Fun, Stan, my lad? Oh! I don't call this fun. Wing says you'vebecome quite a general."
"Wing's a--Chinaman," said Stan, with a laugh full of annoyance, whichmade the two men exchange glances--looks which the lad interpreted tomean, "Hadn't we better leave off?"
And in this spirit Uncle Jeff clapped his hand upon the boy's shoulderand said heartily:
"Take me round and show me the damage done by the enemy, my boy."
"There's very little to see, uncle, but the chipped stone and the leadenbullets and pieces of iron the enemy poured in."
"The bullets--eh? What! in the stone?"
"No, no, uncle," cried the lad. "Stuck in the door-posts and woodwork."
"What about the windows where the stink-pots came flying in as if allthe stars in the sky had broken loose?"
"Oh, they must have been flying across the office, uncle, when Wing wasnursing Mr Blunt. We didn't see those upstairs."
"But a great many did come in?"
"Yes, uncle, and burned great patches in the floor."
"Come, that's something; you must take me up and show me."
"I can't show you much, uncle," was the reply, "for the bales have beenstacked in their places again."
"Oh, come! this is disappointing," cried Uncle Jeff. "No ruins; nowounds but Mr Blunt's; no burnt-out warehouses! Why, after such ascare I expected to find the whole place crippled. Where's Wing?"
"Oh, I must have a word here," said Blunt. "I dare say Master Wingpainted the affair up pretty well, but it was as bad as it could be."
"Why, I thought you were bowled out at the first ball," said Uncle Jeffsharply.
"So I was; but the other players had their innings, and told me allabout it afterwards. Old Lawrence says it
was awful."
"So it was, uncle," cried Stan; "nothing could have been worse."
"Well, all I can say is," said Uncle Jeff some time later, "that youhave cleared away wonderfully. But there's one thing I don't like. Itsticks in my memory very tightly, and it seems to me that it is the oneweak spot in our armour if we are again attacked."
"And what's that, uncle?" asked Stan, for there was a pause.
"The traitor in the camp, my lad. You can't go on like this. What isthe use of making all kinds of preparations when there is an enemy inthe midst who is ready to spoil all and, as it were, sell you to theenemy?"
"You mean about the water poured over the ammunition?" said Blunt,speaking rather excitedly.
"Yes--of course. Now whom do you suspect?"
"At first I thought Wing might be the guilty party."
"Wing!" cried Uncle Jeff, starting. "Ah, to be sure!" he continuedafter but a few moments' thought. "He was my informant, and very eagerto tell me all about it. Tried hard, I remember now, to make meunderstand it must have been some one at the _hong_. Here, Stan, it's along time since I was at school; you've only just come away. What'sthat French proverb about the man who tries to clear himself makingmatters worse?"
"He who excuses himself accuses himself," said Stan promptly.
"Humph! Yes. But it sounds better in French. Here, I don't like tothink old Wing guilty; he has been such a true and faithful servant tothe `foreign devils,' as they call us. Besides, he is so much one ofus, and has been so well paid and treated. You've had no quarrel withhim, Blunt?"
"Not the slightest. Always the best of friends. Of course, you know myway--short, sharp, and decisive."
"Yes; you always were a bit of a bully, Blunt."
"But I'm always just, sir."
"Perfectly; and I believe the people like you at bottom, even if youhave a rough side to your tongue."
"Oh yes, uncle," put in Stan eagerly, to be rewarded by a gratefulglance. "I'm sure there isn't a man here who wouldn't fight to thedeath for Mr Blunt."
"I wouldn't go so far as that, Lynn," said Blunt, with the hot bloodcolouring his pallid, sunken cheeks.
"But they've proved it," cried Stan energetically.
"I'm thinking it was more for you, Lynn," said Blunt quietly.
"Well, let that rest," cried Uncle Jeff; "and let's go on with the trialof Master Wing. You have been good friends with him, Blunt?"
"Excellent."
"No sudden quarrel?"
"Oh no."
"Given him no cause of offence? These Asiatics are rather fond ofnursing up a bit of revenge."
"Oh no," repeated Blunt.
"What about the coolies, then? Any knocking down or punishing any ofthem?"
"Nothing of the kind, sir. I am quite at a loss to think of anythingthat could have prompted a Chinaman here to retaliate.--You can think ofnothing, can you, Lynn, in the short time you have been here?"
Lynn remained silent and looked very conscious, while Uncle Jeff watchedhim sideways.
"Hah!" he said at last. "Dumb. Now, Stan, lad, what are you thinkingof? Out with it."
The lad tried to clear his throat, but in vain, for his voice soundedhusky as he said:
"I was thinking about Wing being on the watch, uncle--about my shootingat him, Mr Blunt, and his tumble."
"Puss! puss! puss! puss! puss!" said Uncle Jeff softly, and he lookedtowards the door.
It was the turn of Stan and the manager to stare at him now, and theylooked as if they fancied he was going out of his mind.
But he looked back at them with a light that was certainly not that ofinsanity dancing in his clear, keen eyes, and there was the faintdawning of a smile upon his lips as he saw their puzzled looks.
"What are you staring at, Stan?" he said at last.
"I--I couldn't make out what you meant, uncle. Do you want the cat?She's generally in the warehouse, watching for the rats that come out ofthe river-bank."
"Oh no; I wasn't alluding to that one, but to the other."
"There is no other cat on the premises, sir," said Blunt, staring inturn.
"Oh yes, there is. I mean the metaphorical cat. She's out of the bagnow, and I was calling her back. Why, hang it, man! there's the causeof the plot. Tell us all about it."
The incident was repeated to the end.
"A great pity," said Uncle Jeff gravely.
"Yes, sir, it was," said Blunt. "I acted on the impulse of the moment,and of course I alone was to blame, for in my sharp, overbearing mannerI insisted upon your nephew firing. Of course, I only meant, in myannoyance at his dozing off at such a time, to give him a startler. ButI've felt sorry ever since."
"I am sorry too," said Uncle Jeff.
"And I too, uncle."
"You are, I know, Stan. Well, it's of no use to cry over spilt milk.The thing's done and can't be undone. But there's the motive, and nowthe poor weak fellow has gratified his revengeful bit of spite let ushope he is satisfied and that all will go smoothly. Still, it is apainful thought that we have had a traitor in the camp."
"I don't care," said Stan firmly.
"It is of no use to care, my lad; but if we have the enemy back I shouldcertainly lock Master Wing where he could do no mischief."
"You misunderstand me, uncle," said Stan. "I didn't finish what I meantto say."
"Let's have it, then, boy."
"I meant to say, I don't care; I don't believe Wing would do such athing."
"Neither do I," said Blunt warmly. "The poor fellow is too true. Hewas quite affectionate to me in attending to my wounds, and nothingcould have been better than the plucky way in which he ran all risksthrough the fight, and afterwards undertook the commission to go andfetch the cartridges. No; I say Wing was not the guilty party."
"Well," said Uncle Jeff, "I want to be with you, for I like old Wing.There's a something about him that puts me in mind of a faithful dog.We'll agree that it was not he, and that drives us to suspect thecoolies."
"Yes," said Blunt; "and I don't like suspecting them, for a better setof fellows never lived."
"There couldn't be," said Stan. "They almost worship Mr Blunt, uncle."
"Hah!" said the latter. "It's a puzzle, then, and I can't help thinkingthat the best way will be to drop the matter and be watchful. If webegin investigating we may not find out the guilty, but we're bound toupset the innocent by our suspicions. I say, Blunt, I wouldn't wake upsleeping Chinese again with the rifle."
"You may depend upon it I shall not, sir," said Blunt frankly. "Andnow, if I may change the subject, I want to be put out of my misery."
"With a rifle, Blunt?" said Uncle Jeff dryly.
"No, no; not in that way, though I do want it done with cartridges. Ishall be in misery till we get those ashore and in the magazine."
"Quite right; we'll have them seen to at once. We must be ready if theenemy do come."
"I say, uncle," cried Stan merrily, "how you keep on _we_ing! Any onewould think you meant to stop."
"I do mean to stop, my boy," said Uncle Jeff sharply.--"No, no, no, no,Blunt; don't take it like that," he continued as he saw the change inthe manager's countenance. "I have not come to supersede you, only as ahumble recruit, ready if wanted, which I fervently hope I shall not be.I should have brought half-a-dozen good fighting-men with me, only thereare none in stock at Hai-Hai. It is getting to be every man forhimself, too, and we shall be very unsettled until our Government makesa move and puts a few men-of-war on the station for the protection ofthe mercantile folk. My brother and several more are bestirringthemselves, however, and I hope something will be done before long."
"But you will take the lead, sir, while you stay, of course," said Bluntrather coldly. "As you see, I am weak."
"I shall do nothing of the kind, Blunt. My brother and I are only toowell satisfied with your management. I have come here to help to takecare of Nephew Stanley, and when the care is not necessary I am going tohave a rest, fishing,
botanising, and shooting--in other words, to havea spell of idleness, for I don't think you will be attacked again afterthe taste you have given the miscreants of our quality here at the_hong_. Now then, Blunt," he added, "are you satisfied?"
The manager hesitated and still looked doubtful, but the look thataccompanied Uncle Jeff's outstretched hand was sufficient, and hebrightened up at once.
"Yes, sir," he said warmly--"quite."