Under the Chinese Dragon: A Tale of Mongolia

by F. S. Brereton

'Can't help it if there are,' muttered David. 'He's got to come with me, and if he thinks that the place in which I found the Tartar fellow is not good enough, well I can't help it. I'll give him a crack that'll knock the wind out of his body.'

He lifted the scabbard of his sabre, fearful that its clanking might arouse the suspicion of his visitor, and then stepped in front of him down the passage. At the open door of the room he had just vacated he came to a halt, kow-towing in that direction.

'In here! Why, fool, this is not a guest chamber.'

'In here, Excellency,' David murmured. 'He wished to be near his prisoners.'

Would the governor detect the broken accent? Did he already suspect that his companion was other than he imagined? For Tsu-Hi stood still regarding the man who had admitted him. Something about the accent undoubtedly attracted his attention. But he was thinking more of Chang than of anything or any one else, Chang and the foreign devils whom they, between them, had so cleverly captured. Then he put back his head and laughed, an almost silent laugh, in which there was a ring of triumph.

'He, he, he! So as to be near his prisoners,' he gurgled, opening a wide mouth between the thin lips of which an uneven and irregular row of yellow fangs were displayed. 'To be near his prisoners, as if he would take a tender farewell of them and see as much of their faces as possible before their hour comes. He, he, he! This Chang is a witty fellow.'

'What an old ruffian!' thought David, still, however, kow-towing. 'Little tenderness we may expect from him, or from Chang either. In a moment I'll make him laugh on the other side of his ugly mouth. Here, Excellency,' he murmured once more, pushing the door a little wider open. 'Enter.'

The gorgeously dressed official was still shaking with suppressed amusement as he passed under the doorway. His hands were buried in his sleeves, and he was actually hugging himself.

'A right merry fellow, this Chang! Who is he? Whence does he come with such a timely warning? He will be an excellent fellow with whom to chat and pass a few hours while others are sleeping. And then, when this thing is finished, he will go. The Government will send urgent orders for his arrest, while I shall have already despatched men to search for him, men who are led by a blind officer unable to find the right track.'

It made him hug himself the harder when he considered how cunning he was, and how he would hoodwink every one; for the deputy-governor was a cunning rascal. Still smarting under the severe reproof he had had administered on a former occasion when Europeans were molested in this walled city of Hatsu, and by the loss of dignity which had resulted, the man, like thousands more of his countrymen, bore a lasting grudge against foreign devils. He was one of the many jacks-in-office who still help to sway the affairs of the celestial empire, clinging tenaciously and with great stubbornness to old methods, for a Chinaman is nothing if not conservative. The views his ancestors held are good enough for him, their education fills his needs, while the ancient system whereby a few live in luxury, and the vast majority in grinding poverty is a model of all that is required. Some there are, and their numbers are steadily increasing, who have gained much by contact with the outside world, for whom travel has relieved them of much arrogance. But the knowledge they possess of the superiority of western nations in many things is lost in the sea of ignorance, of bigotry, which is prevalent throughout the kingdom. One swallow does not make a summer. One enlightened mandarin does not result in the rising of a mighty nation, in the break-up of all its cherished customs, in its advancement in the paths followed by others privileged to live under wiser government.