CHAPTER VIII
CROWDED MOMENTS
Feverishly anxious not to be left alone with his thoughts, Errington wasglad to accept an invitation to dinner that evening with an Englishmanwith whom he had lately become rather friendly. They were sitting overtheir coffee when a third member of the little community came in.
"Sit down, Hamilton," said Errington's host, whose name was Stevens."Have a cigar? You look as if you'd hurried up. Anything wrong?"
"Same old thing. The rebels have licked the Government troops, and aremarching on Cheng Tu. The same performance will be gone through, Isuppose: riot and burning, a bit of a massacre, a scare among theEuropeans; then the Viceroy will take it in hand; he'll pay for thecapture of Su Fing; his head will fly, and then we'll have peace for ayear or two. All comes of education, Stevens; you don't agree with me,I know; but if they weren't so desperately fond of examinations andremained in their primal ignorance, I believe there'd be no rebellions.Su Fing has passed more examinations than any other man in theprovince."
"Well, let's be thankful they're so far away. They won't trouble us."
"I'm not so sure. You know young Burroughs of Sui-Fu? You know him, ofcourse, Errington?"
"Yes."
Errington had never spoken of Burroughs or his intimacy with him: thesubject was too sore.
"Well, that flying boat of his of which we've heard accounts hasdisappeared. I don't know the particulars, but we got a wire an hourago asking us to keep a look-out."
"A trick of the river pirates, I suppose," said Mr. Stevens: "nothing todo with the rebellion."
"Perhaps not; but Su Fing owes Burroughs a grudge for his interferencein that affair with Ting Chuh. By the way, weren't you in that too,Errington?"
"I lent a hand."
"If Su Fing isn't in it himself, you may be sure some of his people are,and it looks as if we shall have trouble all up the Min."
"You're not going, Errington?" said Mr. Stevens, as his guest rose.
"If you don't mind. I've a bit of a headache, and mean to turn inearly."
"Sorry. Well, come up to-morrow, and we'll have a rubber. Good-night."
The headache was not feigned, but Errington's principal reason forleaving early was that he wished to think over the news he had justheard. The flying boat had been stolen, then! He could hardly explainto himself why he had said nothing of his discovery; unconsciously, nodoubt, he felt that to speak would have opened up the matter of his lostfriendship with Burroughs--a matter which he could not have discussed.
"What a fool I was not to bring it away!" he thought. "Yet why should Ibother myself? The Mole's no pal of mine now. Let him look after hisown property."
But this attitude did not last. The roots of the old comradeshipremained, though the leaves had withered. In the night recollections offormer days crowded upon his mind, and his thoughts of the Mole becamemore kindly.
"Hanged if I don't fetch it, and send it back to him," he said tohimself.
He got up about four o'clock in the morning, called Lo San, and told himto put some chapatties and soda water into the sampan.
"We're going to fetch Mr. Burroughs' flying boat," he said.
"No this time, sah," said the servant, anxiously. "No belongeyleason.[#] Plenty bad fellas longside ribber."
[#] It's unreasonable.
"Sa-ni kow-tow[#]!" cried Errington, using a phrase often employed bythe common people. "You no come, I go all-same alone. Savvy?"
[#] I'll cut off your head.
But Lo San, like most of his kind, had a sense of loyalty. He made nofurther protest, but went sullenly about the preparations for thejourney.
Errington, now that he had made up his mind to get the flying boat,determined to leave nothing undone to ensure success. He took a rifleas well as his revolver, and gave similar weapons to his "boy." Itoccurred to him that he would have done more prudently in enlisting helpamong the other Englishmen; but he took a sort of grim pleasure insetting out unaided; it would be heaping coals of fire on Burroughs'head, he thought, to restore the flying boat to him. And he did not meanhim to know to whom he was indebted for its recovery.
They left the town before sunrise, when nobody was about. In hispursuit of sport on the previous day Errington had been led on soinsensibly that he had not taken particular note of the course; and asLo San, with the China boy's usual indifference, had left everything tohis master, they were some hours in discovering the channel through theswamp. Then, however, they proceeded rapidly, though with greatcaution. On arriving at the broad pool, they moved slowly round it,prying up and down the channels opening from it, to make sure that noother craft was in sight. Then they crept into the tortuous passage tothe right among the reeds, and silently approached the shore where theyhad seen the flying boat.
Errington had reason to bless his circumspection when, on rounding thelast curve, he caught sight of six or eight sampans drawn up on theshoaling ground. He instantly checked his own craft and withdrew a fewyards into the reed-bed, where he could see, without being seen. Two orthree of the better shanties, which on the day before had been boardedup, were now open. A wizened old Chinawoman was cooking fish at a smallstove in the open space in front--no doubt a late breakfast for thecrews of the sampans, who were resting after nocturnal prowlings.
Errington considered what he should do. In his decision impulse andcalculation had an equal share. An alarm would bring perhaps a score ofpirates after him, and it would be impossible to tow the flying boatfast enough to escape the pursuit of the pirates' sampans. Even withnothing in tow, he could not propel his craft so rapidly as these menwho lived on the river. Nor could he bring the boat away by its ownpower, for the engine could not be started without noise; and supposinghe got away in time to escape the rifles of the pirates, he would almostcertainly stick in a reed-bed and fall an easy prey. Besides, theengine might not be in working order. If the flying boat was to bebrought away, swiftness and silence were equally necessary. There waslittle doubt that as soon as the meal was cooked, the Chinawoman wouldrouse her employers.
The bow of the flying boat touched the shore, where, as Errington hadnoticed on the previous day, it was held by a rope attached to a ruinedhut. The stern was partially concealed by a thin clump of rushes.Errington made up his mind that he must get on board, approachingthrough these rushes, and discover whether the engine was in workingorder, and whether there was any petrol on board. If the engine wasworkable, Lo San must tow the vessel out until he reached clear water,while he himself got ready to run it under its own power.
It was a chilly morning, but Lo San was shivering rather with frightthan with cold. He looked aghast when his master told him in a rapidwhisper the plan he had formed. But he knew that his best chance ofsaving his skin was to do as he was told, and at Errington's order hegently propelled the sampan until it lay within the shelter of the reedsnear the stern of the flying boat. Telling him to remain perfectlystill, Errington let himself gently down over the side, carrying a rope;then, keeping the flying boat as much as possible between himself andthe old Chinawoman, he waded the few yards that separated him from thestern of the vessel. To this he made fast the rope; then, gentlylifting the matting a foot or two, he clambered as quietly as possibleover the side and into the hull.
A little light filtered through the meshes of the mats, but not enoughfor his purpose. Accordingly he took out his knife and cut a slit in thecovering on the side away from the huts. Then, crouching low so thatthe matting should not be disturbed by his movements, he crept to theengine.
He found that the petrol tank was nearly empty, but luckily there weretwo or three unbroached cans of the spirit. One of these he opened, andpoured the petrol in a slow noiseless trickle into the tank. It wasimpossible without noise to test the machinery, but he examined it ascarefully as he could in the dim light: everything appeared to be inorder.
Now crawling into the fore
part of the boat, he slipped his hand betweenthe matting and the gunwale, and cautiously cut through themooring-rope. It fell into the water with a dull splash; fortunatelythe vessel was so low built that the rope had only a foot or two tofall. Waiting until the unbroken silence without assured him that theold woman had not taken alarm, he crept back again towards the stern,lowered himself into the water as silently as he had raised himselfbefore, and began to haul very gently. The shore was soft, so that themovement of the keel over it made no sound; on the other hand, the soilclung to the keel, and to move the vessel required more force thanErrington expected. But it slid inch by inch towards the water, andmight have floated in absolute silence had Errington been able to seewhat he was doing. But just at the critical moment, when the mostminute care was needed, he pulled a little harder than he should havedone, and the bow dropped into the water with a splash.
Errington, hidden behind the stern, did not see the little contretempswhich might have provoked a smile from Lo San, if he had had any senseof humour, and had not been quaking with fright. At the splash the oldwoman looked up from her cooking, in the direction of the waterwaythrough which the sampans had come. Seeing nothing there, she muttereda malediction, and was turning to her stove again, when she happened tonotice that the mat-covered craft a few yards away was floating free,and that the mooring-rope lay on the shore. Without any suspicion otherthan that the vessel had somehow worked loose, she dropped the fish shehad been preparing, and hobbled down the shore with the intention oftying the boat up again. Quickening her steps as she saw that it wasmoving away, she leant forward to clutch it, missed her footing, andplunged headlong into the water with a stifled scream.
Hitherto Errington had carefully kept out of sight; but at the doublesound of scream and splash he could not refrain from peeping round theside of the boat. The old woman was floundering in the effort to regainher feet. The water was no more than three feet deep, but the bottomwas muddy, and the woman, scared by what was probably the firstimmersion of her life, could not stand up, but was still on hands andknees, only her head showing. Errington had never heard such screaming.Fearing that the old creature would be drowned, he rushed forward in hisimpulsive way to help her.
His chivalry deserved a better reward. The old crone, as soon as she sawhim, let out a series of even more piercing shrieks than before, and,finding her feet at last, scrambled ashore, and with a limping trot likethat of an aged cab-horse, fled towards the huts. "Fan-kwei!Fan-kwei[#]!" she screamed, rubbing her wet face with her fishy fingers.
[#] Foreign devil.
Even as he had reached her, Errington repented of his impulse, for thewoman's shrieks had already drawn a grimy head to the entrance of one ofthe huts. The pirate was presumably too sleepy, or too much confused atthe sudden awakening, to see clearly what was going on, for he gaveErrington time to dash back to the stern of the boat. Hauling itthrough the reed-bed--and it required little force now that the vesselwas afloat---he fastened the stern to the sampan with a few turns of therope, telling Lo San to paddle with all his might towards the water-way.
The Chinaman needed no second bidding. The huts were already dischargingtheir fierce-eyed occupants. Lo San paddled with an energy of which hehad never shown himself capable in the service of his master. Erringtonwaded beside the flying boat, doing what he could to fend it off thereed banks. He was already out of sight of the huts, but the yells andexecrations behind showed only too clearly that the pirates werelaunching their sampans in pursuit. Had he got sufficient start of themto gain the pool?
"Ossoty! ossoty[#]!" he cried to Lo San, and the panting Chinaman putstill more force into his strokes. Errington looked behind, but thewindings of the channel, and the encumbering reeds, prevented him fromseeing how near the pursuers had come. His momentary turn caused theboat to jam against a clump of rushes, and a few seconds were lost whilehe went to the bows and with a heave of the shoulder sent the vesselonce more into the stream.
[#] Make haste.
In a few seconds more, Lo San gave a jubilant shout of "Hai galaw!" Hehad come to the pool. Instantly Errington sprang into the flying boatand, telling the boy still to paddle hard, flung off the matting andswitched on the current. To his intense relief the sparking wasinstantaneous.
"Stop!" he yelled.
Lo San dropped his paddle. The propeller was whirling round, andErrington with his hand on the wheel turned the vessel towards the openchannel. A sampan shot out from the network of reeds behind them. Theman in it uttered a shout, threw down his paddle, lifted his rifle, andfired. Lo San tumbled into the bottom of the sampan, which was nowbeing towed by the hydroplane. Errington did not see him; his eyes wereglued on the channel in front. He dared not as yet put the engine atfull speed; the reed-beds on either side projected here and there toofar into the water-way; if the propeller became entangled the game wouldbe up. More sampans emerged from the rushes; more shots were fired; butthe pirates' marksmanship was wild, and seeing that the hydroplane wasgoing at a slow pace, they ceased firing and paddled frantically on,hoping to overtake the vessel before it came clear of the channel intothe main stream.
A CRITICAL MOMENT]
The foremost sampan was within a few yards of the little craft in whichLo San, quite unhurt, lay cowering in the bottom, when Errington at lastconsidered it safe to open his throttle. The hydroplane shot forward ata pace that seemed to snatch the following sampan out of the very handsof the pursuers. From this time the chase was hopeless. The piratespaddled on a short distance further, then stopped, yelling with rage,and firing after their quarry with blind fury. Not a shot took effect.The hydroplane was soon out of sight, if not out of range.
Errington looked behind. Lo San was not to be seen. With a qualm lestthe boy had been hurt, Errington slowed down, stopped, and waitedanxiously until the sampan came up by its own momentum.
"Are you hurt?" he cried, seeing the boy inert.
"No, sah: velly muchee funk," replied Lo San, without offering to rise.
"Then get up, you owl, and come aboard," said Errington. "Lug thesampan up after you. First chop numpa one fightee man _you_ are."
"My no likee fightee pidgin," mumbled the boy, as he clambered up.
"You belongey chow-chow pidgin,"[#] said Errington. "Sit down."
[#] You're better at eating.
And starting the engine again he ran into the open river, and rushedup-stream against a strong current at the rate of twenty-five knots.
On arriving below the town, he steered the vessel into a narrowunfrequented creek, lowered the sampan, and finished the journey as hehad begun it.
"Don't say a word about this, or I'll sack you," he said to Lo San.
He walked up the town, to the office of the local agent of Mr.Burroughs.
"Mr. Ted has lost his flying boat, I hear," he said unconcernedly.
"Yes," replied the agent. "It was stolen yesterday."
"Well, the thieves apparently didn't know what to do with it. You'llfind it in the creek just below Mr. Stevens' wharf."
"You don't say so, Mr. Errington! That's extraordinary. I'll wire toSui-Fu at once."
"You had better say that you'll send it down in tow of the firststeamer. That'll be safe enough, I think."
"I'll do that; but maybe Mr. Ted will come up and fetch it himself. I'mglad it's so soon found, any way."
"Yes. And oh!--I say, you needn't mention me," said Errington as hewalked out of the office.
The agent telegraphed the bare news of the recovery of the vessel, andasked for instructions. But thinking over the matter, he felt a littlepuzzled at Errington's manner, and made a shrewd guess that he hadsomehow gained possession of the stolen vessel. He wrote next day toBurroughs, mentioning his suspicion.
Burroughs, who had himself housed the flying boat on the night precedingthe disappearance, and heard of the theft early next morning, wasnaturally delighted to hear that his vessel had been recovered. But hefelt somewhat surprised that it h
ad been found at such a distance up theriver. He had at once suspected that the theft was the work of riverpirates, but so far as he knew they were quite unfamiliar with theworking of a petrol motor, and they could hardly have towed the vesselso far against a strong current in the time which had elapsed betweenits loss and its recovery. He telegraphed to his agent to report howmuch petrol there was on board, and the reply that the tank was nearlyfull, and that there were two unopened cans besides, confirmed hisbelief that the boat had not travelled under its own power.
This made him suspect that it had been carried up on some larger vessel;but no steamer had gone in that direction, nor was it in any case likelythat the boat would have been put on board any of the regularsteamers--unless some one had purloined it for a joke. That wasinconceivable. He mentioned the matter to his comprador, Sing Wen, whosaid that he would make inquiries.
Later in the day, the comprador reported that Reinhardt's motor launchhad been seen within a few miles of the port, shortly before dark on theevening of the theft. A telegram to his agent brought the news that thelaunch had passed Chia-ling Fu on the following morning. Putting thesetwo facts together, Burroughs came to the conclusion that the German hadbeen concerned in the theft, though for what motive he could notimagine.
His agent's letter, suggesting that Errington had at least played somepart in its recovery, gave him a good deal of pleasure. The severance oftheir friendship had troubled him, and Errington's complete silencesince his removal to Chia-ling Fu had inflicted a deep wound. To him,looking back upon it, the cause of the quarrel appeared too trumpery tojustify a permanent breach; but knowing his old friend's temper, he hadhesitated to take the first step towards a reconciliation. And beingsomewhat stiff-necked himself when he believed that he was in the right,he could not bring himself to apologize for a wrong which he had notdone.
Now, however, there seemed to be an opening, and he wrote to Erringtonthe following note:--
"MY DEAR PIDGE,
"I've just heard that I owe the recovery of the old flier to you. Manythanks. I'm burning to know more about it, and would run up if Iweren't too busy just now. When I can find time I shall come, and giveyou a call. I hope you like your new quarters.
"Yours ever, "THE MOLE."
Errington read the note with a curling lip.
"He thinks I've forgotten, does he?" he thought.
And he tore the note across, and threw it petulantly into thewaste-paper basket.