Then she went back to her bench and began to think hard, keeping up a small flow of conversation to herself all the time, somewhat after this fashion: 'Now let me see. He is a Christian, and this is Yung Ching. Have I ever heard of any missionaries who live at Yung Ching? No, I haven't. If there are other Christians here, there must be a missionary who comes sometimes. Should I ask Ku Nai-nai if there are any Christians in Yung Ching? I'd better not. I wish it was to-morrow morning. It may rain, and then what shall I do? Oh dear, some of that red paper is sticking out of my sleeve. I must tuck it in,' which she did, and continued: 'Perhaps after all he is only a Roman Catholic Christian. Well, that is a great deal better than being a heathen, although some missionaries' children don't seem to think so. Do Catholics sing "Art thou weary," I wonder? There is that red paper again. Where can I hide it? Behind this little heap of stones in the corner; and then I'll go and see what the others are doing.'
Nelly made a hole in the heap of stones and carefully hid the red paper. She had barely finished when Little Yi came running to call her.
'Come and see what I have made to eat,' she panted. 'I really am a good cook. I don't know how my mother can get along without me. I know so much about foreigners, too,' said Little Yi, who was certainly becoming more conceited than ever. She was a smart child, and more energetic than most Chinese. Ku Nai-nai was becoming quite fond of her in a selfish fashion, because Little Yi could fill her pipe, arrange the rooms, and run to fetch things much better than any child of her age whom she had ever known, although she did not always remember that none of her family and friends were Manchus, and that the poor little Chinese girls of Yi's age were all suffering from foot-binding. Luckily for Nelly, Little Yi's concoction of meat, flour, and sauce quite took up the attention of the household; otherwise, they might have noticed how thoughtful she was. Indeed, Little Yi did remark that Nelly did not appear to think much of her dish.
There was plenty of time for reflection all the afternoon and evening, for Ku Nai-nai seemed determined to have a regular turnout while the old woman was out of the way, and kept An Ching and Little Yi quite busy. Nelly decided that if the Christian—for that was how she thought of the Chinaman—could help Little Yi and herself to get away before Hung Li returned, they had better go with him. But would Little Yi consent? When the children were together in Peking, Little Yi gave way to Nelly in everything, but now Nelly did not feel so sure of her. She went to bed early, and never ceased to wonder what was going on in the next compound until she fell asleep.
Now the next compound was built on nearly the same plan as the Kus'. The dwelling-places were all in the centre court, and there was the same large round entrance left in the wall, through which you could pass into a small court at the side. This was next to the Kus' small court, and it was there that Nelly's Christian, whose surname was Chang, had appeared over the wall. Hung Li and Ku Nai-nai did not know that there were any native Christians in Yung Ching, but there were, and they even had a small room set aside for preaching and Christian worship, where an English clergyman from Peking sometimes held services. The room was in the compound of the native lay reader's house, quite at the other side of the town, and Chang and his family were the only converts who did not live close to this little meeting-house.
When Chang, chuckling to himself at the astonishment he had caused, descended the ladder, he found his wife waiting for him at the bottom. They both went through the round hole in the centre court and then indoors. Chang Nai-nai was most eager to learn all that Nelly had said, for she had only heard one-half of the talk from her post at the foot of the ladder, and as it was she who had first heard the sound of hymn-singing coming from their neighbours', she considered herself entitled to know everything. When her husband had satisfied her on this point, she demanded of him what he was going to do. Her little eyes twinkled as she suggested that they might just as well have a reward on the children's account as Hung Li. 'And,' she added, 'we have to live, even if we are Christians.'
'To be sure,' said Chang, 'and are we not living pretty comfortably on the type-cutting I get from the missionaries in Peking? I shall do my best to help the children to get home, even if I gain nothing by it, but if the foreign child's father offers me something afterwards I shall not refuse it. Suppose our son had been stolen, what should we have done? There he is.'
A tall, pale boy of fourteen appeared in the doorway.
'Listen, Chi Fu,' he continued; 'I have seen one of the hymn-singers,' and he repeated his account of his adventure of the morning, and told his son how he and Chang Nai-nai had gone into the small court and heard Ku Nai-nai call away her daughter-in-law and Little Yi, and tell Nelly to stay where she was. When they found that only one person was there, Chang had ventured to fetch a ladder and look over.
'Now, Chi Fu, my clever son, you must tell us how we are to get hold of these children, and then I can easily take them to Peking.'