Throughout the whole of that day, he was kept busily employed in the opium den, brushing the couches, sweeping the floor and cleaning the spirit-lamps. He was given food to eat, and plenty of green tea to drink, which had the effect of getting rid of his headache. And all the time he was working he endeavoured to collect his thoughts; he tried to think of some definite plan of action. But rack his brain as he might, he could see no way out of his difficulties. He could think of no means of staving off the calamity which was impending.
During the afternoon the den began to fill. Customers continually dropped in, some to smoke opium, others to purchase it and take it away. At nightfall, there was about a dozen people in the place, and when the clock which was suspended upon the railings of the balcony struck the hour of ten, the voice of Ah Wu was heard without the main entrance. Immediately afterwards, the fat proprietor entered, accompanied by Cheong-Chau, the brigand chief.
[CHAPTER XIX--HOW LING READ CONFUCIUS]
Frank, who feared instinctively that the worst would happen, retreated hastily to the other end of the room. There he busied himself with vigorously sweeping the floor, until he was summoned by Ah Wu to attend to the wants of the new-comer.
The boy's heart was beating violently. It was as much as he could do to lift his eyes from the ground to meet those of the redoubtable brigand from whose clutches he had so recently escaped; and when at last he did so, he was more than ever dismayed to perceive that Cheong-Chau was attended by three of his ruffians, whom Frank knew well by sight.
As in a flash, the boy reviewed the circumstances of the predicament in which he found himself. He saw no hope that he could avoid detection. Even if Cheong-Chau himself failed to recognise the fugitive--a very unlikely contingency--one of the other three would be almost sure to do so. It must be remembered that the boy had not disguised his features. His identity was but thinly veiled by the Chinese clothes he was wearing--which had been given him by the tea-grower--the false pigtail and the shaven forepart of his head. He could not believe for a moment that Cheong-Chau would fail to know him.
In his extreme anxiety, it did not occur to the boy that Yung How, who knew him a great deal better than any of the brigands, had been quite deceived, that Frank had been obliged to declare his identity to the man who had known him since childhood. For all that, even if the boy had had either the presence of mind or the inclination to take stock of his chances of success, he could not have overlooked a very important fact: that Cheong-Chau was looking for him, whereas Yung How, on the other hand, had never suspected for an instant that he had escaped.
Cheong-Chau and his men had come south in pursuit of the fugitive. The man had been enticed into the opium den by Ah Wu, whom he still believed to be his colleague. Here Cheong-Chau was to be drugged by order of the subtle and relentless villain who even then lay in hiding--like a great cat crouching by the side of a mouse-hole--behind the embroidered curtains. And now Cheong-Chau was to find himself, suddenly and unexpectedly, confronted by the very fugitive whom he had pursued for days.
Frank, cold with fear, certain of disaster, and dreading that he would be mercilessly put to death, looked Cheong-Chau in the face. The varied sensations he experienced were akin to what those must be of a condemned man upon the scaffold. He did but wait for the terminating blow to fall.
He could not look at Cheong-Chau for more than an instant. He turned and regarded Ah Wu, who was standing on the other side of him. Ah Wu was smiling in his oily, plausible manner. He looked the complete host, affability itself, and all the time he was planning the discomfiture of his guest. A fat, genuine rogue!