"You have slept well?" he asked.
"I have slept well," said Frank.
"They say," said Ling, "that sound sleep is a sign of a pure conscience. I myself am in the habit of sleeping like a child. And yet," he added, in a doubtful voice, "I am half of opinion that I ought to put you out of the world."
"You are free to do as you wish," said Frank.
"I thank you," said Ling. "I am aware of it."
"At the same time," said the other, "I beg to remind you that I am not here of my own free will. I did not ask to accompany you; you can scarcely say that I intruded. You kidnapped me and demanded that I should assist you. I did so to the best of my ability. I confess I had no other alternative. That does not alter the fact that had you left me to mind my own affairs I should not have interfered with you. You told me a great deal about yourself. I did not ask you to. You brought me here, where in my presence you committed a crime----"
"No, no," Ling interposed. "You do me a great injustice. I have committed no crime. I did but defend my life. I usually do so with success."
"Have it your own way," said Frank, who now--for some reason or other--felt bolder in the man's presence that he had ever felt before. "It is not a matter that concerns me. A few days ago I had neither seen nor heard of you. It was a misfortune for me that I encountered you that morning upon the wharf at Sanshui. You have no right to detain me. I have no valuables upon me, but a few copper cash. If you want them you can take them. You are welcome to what I have. I ask but one thing: to be allowed to go free, to go about my own affairs."
"That is well spoken," said Ling. "I admit I am fond of you. I think I have told you already that I have admitted you into the innermost chamber of my heart. Had I a son, I would that he were such as you. I would bring him up in the way that he should go. I would not entrust his education to the literati of China. I would teach him myself."
"To be a robber?" asked Frank.