Under the Chinese Dragon: A Tale of Mongolia

by F. S. Brereton

'That fellow Tsu-Hi is responsible for this, I suppose,' groaned David, breathing as deeply as he could. 'But what is his object, and how is it that they took us unawares?'

Bitterly did he blame himself for his carelessness in falling asleep; for he realised now with a pang of remorse that that was what had happened.

'Made a whole heap of fine resolutions,' he growled beneath his breath, 'and then was weak enough to break them. I deserve to be trapped. But why? What can be the meaning of this sudden attack?'

Well might he ask the question, for there must be some reason. David had no knowledge of that rascal Chang, hired with Mr. Ebenezer Clayhill's money. He had no idea that the sinister individual who had married his stepmother was even then awaiting news from the Chinaman he had engaged to do his bidding, and that, with a cunning which matched that of the Celestial, Ebenezer had arranged that anything might be done if only David Harbor could be silenced and finished—anything at all. Yet, when his wife broached the subject, as she did with great regularity, once at least every day, he would smile and answer her in a manner all his own. It was always his habit to take up a commanding position on the hearth-rug, and there, with a preliminary blast of his gigantic and exceedingly red nasal organ, to hold forth with a pomposity which suited him not at all.

'Violence, my dear! Violence to be offered! Why do you harp so constantly on such a matter? Of course there will be no violence. This man Chang goes in search of the will, not of the young pup you have the misfortune to own as a stepson. Don't be alarmed; no harm will come to him through Chang.'

But, once his wife's back was turned, the ruffian would tell himself with a chuckle that if anything did actually happen to David, why, it would be at the hands of some others hired by the rascal he had sent to China.

'She'll never, know,' he said. 'As for me, I'd rather hear he was dead than have the actual will sent to me; for that young pup is capable of mischief. I'll not be comfortable till he's dead.'

Seeing that David was ignorant of Chang's existence, what else could he put this sudden attack down to? Tsu-Hi's cunning and enmity? Why? Then to what? For in these days of slowly gathering enlightenment a European can travel in China with some degree of safety, particularly when armed with a letter to the powerful governor of a province. True, there are sudden fanatical attacks; but then, he reflected, in such cases there is always a cause. Where was there a cause here? where the smallest excuse for this violence?

However, no amount of wondering helped him. His indignation merely made his breath come faster, and seeing that breathing was already a matter of difficulty, he soon lay quiet at the bottom of the basket, listening dully to the footsteps of his bearers; and then he felt that he was being carried up some stairs. A chilly sensation came to him, while the faint light flickering in through the wicker was cut off entirely. More stairs were mounted, the basket being borne at an angle that sent David into a heap at the lower end. Then the bearers went through a doorway. Of that he was sure, for he heard the creak of the hinges and the rattle of bolts. An instant later the basket was tossed to the ground with as much ceremony, or lack of ceremony, as would have been devoted to a bale of clothes.

'Bring him out,' he heard in guttural Chinese. 'Now cut his bonds; fetch the light hither.'