"I don't think jail is a very good place, even for bad people," said Mercy, "for it makes them worse; but I shall feel easier if that man is locked up. It is too dangerous to have him at large."
"I suppose you don't need any instructions," I said, "but I'll venture to suggest that Moon Ying had better take the air from an up-stairs window for a few days."
"I hope we have sense enough to know that much," returned Laura soberly, "though I don't blame you for thinking we haven't. I shan't dare let her out of doors unless there's a regiment of soldiers about the house."
"I'll have a few more men here to-morrow; but you'd better keep her in till I give the word that all is safe."
Laura Kendrick looked sharply at me.
"You needn't try to hide it," she said. "I see in your face that there's something more you're afraid of, and you'd better tell it now rather than later."
"I wasn't intending to conceal it. In fact, I was going to warn you against letting strange white men into the house. I've had a warning that leads me to believe that the fellow who was here asking questions yesterday is one of a gang hired by the highbinders to recover Moon Ying. They are much more dangerous than Little John, but if we don't give them a chance they won't hurt us."
Moon Ying had followed our conversation with eager attention; and though many of the words were beyond her understanding, she had caught the meaning of what we said.
"Too bad--too velly bad," she said, with sudden resolution evident in her face. "Bad man come, makee you 'flaid, maybe shoot. I go 'way, bad man no come."
"Indeed you shan't go away," cried Laura. "There's no place on earth you could be safe, even if we did let you go."