They had thrown themselves down upon the ground in a place where the grass was long enough to screen them from view. The light was fading rapidly. It would soon be quite dark. A heavy mist was gathering in the valley. Frank looked at his companion. He could see blood flowing profusely down the man's neck. For all that, the expression upon Ling's face did not suggest that he suffered pain. He was grinning. He held in his hand the loaded revolver he had taken from Yung How in Ah Wu's opium den. It was manifest that every sense was alert. Screwing his eyes, he endeavoured to pierce the gloom of the thickets immediately in front of them. Nothing was to be seen. No sound disturbed the silence of the evening. Slowly and stealthily Ling began to move forward through the long grass, after the manner of a snake, never for a moment lifting his chin more than a few inches from the ground. Frank followed him. There was no reason why the boy should have done so, and without doubt he had been wiser had he remained behind in safety. But he was consumed by an overmastering desire to see the matter out, to follow to the bitter end the fortunes of the mighty Ling. He followed in the man's wake, Ling in his progress was making a kind of pathway through the grass. Frank was careful not to show himself. He realised that the exposure of any part of his body would, in all probability, immediately be greeted by another shot from the glade. Ling was making for a great boulder that lay upon the outskirts of the wood, about twenty yards from a place where the undergrowth was exceedingly dense. He gained this without any mishap; and there, a moment later, he was joined by Frank. "You have followed me?" he asked, in a whisper. The boy nodded his head, not venturing to speak. "Then you have done so at your own risk. I am not responsible for your life." Very cautiously, Ling peered round the boulder behind which they lay in hiding. Almost at once, a single shot from a revolver was fired from the thickets immediately before them. Ling did not draw back, nor did he flinch. On the contrary, he drew himself forward until at least half his body was exposed to view. Then came another shot from the wood; Frank saw a bullet strike the ground not three inches from the man's head. At that moment Ling himself fired. Three revolver shots rang out in quick succession, and then, with a roar like that of a charging tiger, the man rose to his feet and plunged into the wood. Frank saw the flash of a long knife he carried in his left hand. In his right he still held his revolver. He crashed into the undergrowth like a wild bull, and the darkness swallowed him up. The boy waited an instant; then, as nothing happened, he rose to his feet and followed after Ling. He was able to see very little of his surroundings. He found himself in twilight. Trees arose on every side of him like gaunt spectres, twisted and deformed. Dark shadows upon the ground seemed to be moving, floating here and there like silent ghosts. Knowing not which way to go, for a few seconds the boy remained quite motionless. Then suddenly there came a loud shout, in which Frank recognised the voice of Ling. This shout was followed by an uproar, a noise that bore no small resemblance to the crackling of green wood upon a mighty fire. Branches were broken; dry sticks and twigs were trampled under the feet of excited, hastening men. Frank, running forward, found himself, before he had gone thirty yards, upon the skirting of the Glade of Children's Tears. Here there was more light. The boy could see the great broken idols, overgrown with moss and lichen, lying upon the ground; he could see the ruins of the ancient temple and the great red stone beneath which the treasure had been hidden. Then, on a sudden, he became conscious of the figure of a man crouching behind a rock, not ten yards away. Though he was well in the shadow, there was sufficient light to enable the boy to make quite sure that the man in front of him was not Ling. One could not fail to identify the gigantic proportions of the Honanese; and this was a thin, small man. Moreover, he did not wear the long robe of the upper classes in China, but a short jacket, reaching not far below the waist; and so far as Frank could make out, this coat was red. Also, the man was bareheaded, whereas Ling had been wearing the buttoned hat of a mandarin. Frank remained silent and motionless, scarcely daring to breathe. On hands and knees the man moved a few paces forward, which brought him into the light. The boy recognised at once the shrunken, evil features of Cheong-Chau, the brigand chief. He could have been given no greater cause to regret the fact that he was altogether unarmed. In this conflict, the sympathies of the boy were wholly on the side of Ling. That Cheong-Chau was more evil than Ling was not to be doubted, since the brigand was never to be trusted. Ling, on the other hand--so far as Frank's experience went--was not likely to go back upon his word. He was pitiless and wholly unscrupulous; but at the same time, he had in his own way certain estimable virtues. The boy considered that the worst calamity that could, at this juncture, possibly befall him and his friends was for Cheong-Chau to regain possession of his hostages. If the brigand overpowered Ling, he would possess himself of the ransom money, he would recapture his own junk, setting free the crew which Ling had bound hand and foot; and then, it was more than probable, he would seek satisfaction in the murder of his victims. Frank therefore was eager to render all the assistance he could to Ling. But since he had upon him neither fire-arms nor weapons of any sort, he could do nothing but lie still and await the tide of events. Cheong-Chau continued to move forward on hands and knees. He turned his head rapidly first one way and then another. The boy was well able to see that the brigand was armed to the same extent as Ling; in other words, he carried in one hand a revolver of European manufacture, and between his teeth a long Chinese knife. It was plain that the man was searching in all directions for his adversary. He was still not many yards away from Frank. On a sudden, he lay quite still, seeming to flatten himself into nothing, just as a cat does when it lies in ambush. He had evidently seen something. Frank, straining his eyes, observed another man, visible as a mere shadow, moving slowly and silently amidst the undergrowth on the other side of the glade. This man was steadily approaching. Cheong-Chau did not stir. When the two men were not fifteen paces away from each other, Cheong-Chau raised his revolver, and was evidently about to fire, when suddenly he brought it down again. "Tong!" said he, in a loud whisper. "Is that you, Cheong-Chau?" came back the answer. "It is myself. And have you seen aught of the tiger?" By then the two men were together lying side by side behind a fragment of the ruined temple wall. They were so close to Frank that, though they spoke to one another in whispers, it was easy for him to hear every word that they said. "I thought you were he," said the man who had answered to the name of Tong. "And I too," said Cheong-Chau. "I was about to fire when I saw that you were too small to be Ling." "That is fortunate," said the other, "fortunate--for me." "And where is Chin Yen?" asked the brigand chief. "He is close behind me," said the man. "He is here." Indeed, at that moment they were joined by a third man, who crept forward from out of the midst of the shadows. The night was descending rapidly; it was already almost dark. Frank, however, had no doubt as to the identity of these two men. He remembered very well hearing their names when he was in the opium den of Ah Wu. Chin Yen was the man who had fallen down upon his knees beside an opium couch, holding his head between his hands. Tong was the unfortunate individual who had been struck down with the paraffin lamp. It was subsequently discovered that the third man never recovered from his injuries. "Well, Chin Yen," said Cheong-Chau, "where is the tiger? Have you seen nothing of him?" "Nothing at all," came the answer. "Three minutes ago I saw him standing on the edge of the glade. I was about to fire, when suddenly he disappeared. I think he fell upon his face." "He is somewhere here," said Cheong-Chau. "He is too big to hide himself. We shall find him sooner or later. He cannot have been spirited away." Tong shivered--or rather there was a tremor in his voice. "I don't like this business," said he. "Presently, without a moment's warning, the tiger will spring upon us from out of the darkness. And then, woe betide him into whom he digs his claws." "You are a coward," said Cheong-Chau. "We are three to one, and we are all armed with revolvers. What is there to fear, if we keep together? Ling's strength will avail him nothing." "That is true," said Chin Yen. All the same the tone of his voice carried not the least conviction. He was obviously just as frightened of his opponent as his comrade. Cheong-Chau himself was the most courageous of the three. "Obey my orders," said he, "and remain at my side. We will search the place thoroughly. He lies somewhere in hiding. Keep as close to the ground as possible. He will fire the moment he sees us." "He may have escaped," said Tong. "He has done nothing of the kind," said Cheong-Chau. "For two reasons: first, we must have heard him; secondly, it is not the custom of Ling to run away." "Let us go first to the junk," said Chin Yen. "We shall then be ten to one." "Fool!" exclaimed Cheong-Chau. "We should never get there. Ling would shoot us in the open. Come, we do but waste time talking. The glade must be searched." As he said the words, he began to move forward, straight toward the place where Frank was hiding. The boy's heart was in his mouth. He could scarcely hope that he would not be discovered. He could not make his escape without being seen nor was he in a position to offer resistance. And if he was discovered, he had every reason to believe that Cheong-Chau would kill him. These were the thoughts that passed rapidly through his mind. He lay motionless, fearing to breathe, his eyes fixed upon the crouched, gliding forms of Cheong-Chau and his companions. And then the boy was discovered. The man called Tong caught sight of him and raised his revolver to fire. At the moment Tong pressed the trigger, Frank struck the weapon upward, so that the bullet flew wide through the branches of the trees. Knowing that he would be shot if he remained at arm's-length or attempted to run away, the boy closed at once with his adversary. Flinging himself into Tong's arms, he endeavoured to seize the man by the throat; but almost immediately he was overpowered by the three of them, and found himself pinned to the ground and once again a prisoner. Chin Yen peered into the boy's face. "This is not Ling!" he exclaimed. Cheong-Chau came out with a brutal oath. "No," said he. "This is not the tiger; it is the foreign devil who has twice slipped through my fingers." Frank Armitage closed his eyes and caught his lower lip between his teeth. |