He had been squatting motionless on his buttocks—tracing designs in the mud with his staff whilst his quick eyes looked slily from one speaker to another. Now he rose and picked his way forward through the morass which lay ahead of them, plunging and sliding in the mud and often pausing to take breath. The heavy rain had reduced this low-lying ground to a veritable quagmire, making progress very difficult even for one as unburdened as he was. As for the unfortunate wool-dealers, laden with their heavy saddlebags, they had not gone far before their cries of distress became hearty and real. They were so badly mired that it was necessary for the others to lend a hand in dragging them out.
At last they gained the tumble-down gate of the township, splashed to the shoulders and panting and sweating. Errant dogs barked at them; but the shuttered and miserable aspect of the main street showed that the place had been totally deserted by the inhabitants.
The eldest wool-dealer was now quite exhausted and raised his voice in loud, piteous complaints.
"I should have never undertaken this journey," he exclaimed, stopping short to wipe the perspiration from his lined face. "From early morning have I had great misgivings which have oppressed me. Ruin is better than such travels."
"Tso—let us proceed," said Wang the Ninth stoutly, aiming a blow at a barking cur which ran off yelping. "We shall find a sleeping-place somehow. In any case it is too late to turn back, for whither should we go?"
He walked on briskly, peering keenly in every direction, and not at all alarmed, for he knew that no one would hurt a boy when there were men with saddlebags accompanying him.
The township had indeed been picked clean by looters—that was amply clear from the ruined appearance of every shop front. The robbers had vied with the soldiers, and what was left had been rejected by both. But at last they reached a big caravansary that in times of peace catered to the cart-trade; and there sitting at a broken table in the central yard was a single servant eating his evening meal as if nothing had happened. The man declared that he had been left by his master with the promise of a great reward if he saved the premises from fire; but as for food or lodging there was nothing to be had.
A great parleying ensued; and finally in return for hard cash hidden food was produced. When Wang the Ninth had eaten his share he felt extraordinarily drowsy. Going into the first rough room he could find, he stretched himself on the raised brick k'ang and fell instantly asleep.
The talk about robbers, however, made him dream bad dreams and he saw whole hosts of evil men who conspired to torture him. Yet through it all—in spite of his alarm—he always seemed to see his master, and to hear the same strange foreign words which had urged him forward before. Once in the night he awoke with a cry, fearing for his life, and peered out. Then he saw through the broken paper windows the three wool-dealers still sitting in the courtyard drinking wine from their leather bottles and babbling their fears. The shadows from the waning moon made them look queer and strange; they were like men submerged. Half their bodies was hidden in darkness, and only when they lifted their arms to drink could he trace them clearly. The inn-servant, who had been included in this jollification, was asleep with his head on the table. His loud breathing was punctuated by groans as though the wine he had drunk was torturing him. Silently the boy crept back to his rough couch and slept once more.
When morning came he went out down the street to see whatever there was to see; but he met no one or saw no signs of life, excepting a miserable beggar who disappeared at once and whom he had no wish to follow. On returning to the inn he waited until the wool-dealers were awake; and then gave them a long account of his observations.