It was undoubtedly some one calling him, and that some one was the man down below in the street. The figure gesticulated even more violently, while the voice was raised to a higher pitch.
'Am dat youself, Misser Davie? Dis Jong, John Jong, de China boy, what's you sarvint.'
It set David's heart beating like a sledge hammer. He slid at once to the very edge of the roof and stared over.
'Jong,' he called. 'That you? What's all this business about?'
'Not know't all, Misser. Me asleep, den hear a noise, and hide under de kang. Men come into de place and look for me. Den hear dem going away carryin' baskets.'
'Carrying me, Jong. I was a prisoner till a moment ago. I've just crept out of the cell in which they placed me.'
'Where Misser Dick, den?' asked Jong, promptly.
'Dick? Isn't he with you?'
David asked the question anxiously, for the safety of his friend had given him cause for great anxiety, even in spite of his own sad condition. He had not seen that second basket borne along behind him, and had no idea that his chum Dick was also a prisoner. 'Where is he?' he demanded eagerly.
'Not know; but Jong follow de fellers, and see dem carry you both in dere in de baskets. Den him wait here to see what happening. Not know what to do, Misser Davie. If me go back to de palace, den Tsu-Hi take me.'