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.