The boy smiled. It was as much as he could do, but he managed it somehow, knowing full well that everything depended upon his presence of mind. He had learned something from Ling.
"Are you blind, Yung How?" he asked.
"I did not know you," said the man, who had not yet recovered from his astonishment. "The shaven head! The pigtail! Your clothes! Besides, you are the last person I expected to see. I thought you hundreds of miles away."
"So I was," said Frank. "I escaped."
"Ah! It was you who escaped! I did not think of that." Then he lowered his voice. "But why have you told me?"
"Because, Yung How, though you have behaved like a rascal, I cannot believe you to be such a villain that you would allow my uncle, who has been a good master to you for years, to be murdered."
Yung How was silent for more than a minute.
"That is true," said he; "that is very true."
"I suppose you realise," Frank went on, "that if I remain here, Ling may gain possession of the ransom, and in that case both my uncle and Mr Waldron will be killed. You know also that, if you betray me to Ling, I shall be killed. Do you remember, Yung How, when I was a little boy who had only just learned to walk, you used to take me up to the top of the Peak, and we would walk upon the asphalt paths, and you would tell me Chinese fairy tales? I remember them to this day. Then, it was you who taught me to speak your language. Do you remember when the plague came to Hong-Kong, and people were dying in the streets? Have you forgotten that you too fell ill, and my uncle himself carried you in his arms and sent you in a chair to the hospital? Have you forgotten that?"
The face of Yung How had grown very serious. Slowly he shook his head.