For a hundred yards or so he moved torn with anxiety. Then as no shouts came from behind, he gained confidence. With amazing effrontery as he approached the gateway he commenced singing lustily the "Song of the Wine-jug," as if the fresh morning had put music into his heart. Nonchalantly and easily, he walked up to the hobbled ponies, and manœuvred round their tails with his rake. Carefully he garnered up all their droppings, singing all the time. Now with the filled basket slung across his shoulder, he made his way into the gateway, searching for more manure as he walked, and even stopping to speak to a soldier.
"These horses are so poorly fed that they are hardly worth my trouble," he remarked coarsely enough, swinging the laden basket from one shoulder to the other.
The man cursed him for his insolence but he did not molest him. On he went quicker now. He scrambled up a high bank and made his way into the fields. Once hidden from sight he threw the basket and the rake where they could not be found. Then without a thought of the wretched youth he had robbed, and with nothing to encumber him, he began running as hard as he could.
CHAPTER XX
Noon found him asleep in the fields of kaoliang, that giant millet growing twelve feet high which is so dense that one may become lost in its golden tangle. Utterly worn out, he had crept into this safe hiding-place, and amidst the drone of the countless insects he had dropped on his back, and lost consciousness—a small, unobserved creature on the face of a troubled earth.
Yet in spite of his fatigue his sleep was disturbed. Uneasy dreams made him thrash around and babble confused talk. He again lived through all his experiences of the night before and found no comfort in the success which had crowned his efforts. To escape from the great city in the manner he had done was a feat which should have brought him peace. Nevertheless as he slept he constantly heard his master's voice chiding him for not showing more haste. The voice was so clear that he understood perfectly everything that was said; and—strangest of all—the three mysterious words which every one had spoken at the last fateful interview, when he had been committed to this enterprise, sounded unendingly in his ears in a great undertone.
Perhaps it was the harsh grinding of the cicadas which brought back the message so insistently as he lay semi-conscious; for the cicadas were singing with all the might which is theirs in the summer months. Well—he had travelled far and braved many risks—was that not enough? No—for now his master stood immediately over him, a huge figure full of awe. His red beard bristled as he spoke with the force of his superior judgment; and as the boy watched thunderstruck, the red beard came nearer and nearer in a menacing way until at length he could feel the bristles sticking into his face....
With a startled cry he awoke and threw off some millet stalks which had fallen across him. Now he yawned and shook himself like a dog. He was fully awake but still a little frightened. The vividness of the apparition slowly disappeared like clouds driven along the skies by a high wind. As he sat up and tightened his belt he was suddenly overwhelmed by the great emptiness which oppressed his stomach.