“There’s something in that,” said Barkins. “Right. Show a bold front, lads. Let’s go straight by them, and if they attack, then out with your swords and let’s make a fight for it.”
I heard Smith say, “All right,” and my heart was beating very fast as I said the same.
Frightened? Of course I was. I don’t believe the boy ever lived who would not feel frightened at having to face death. For it was death we had to face then, and in the ugliest shape. But Smith’s words sent a thrill through us.
“I say, lads,” he said, “we’ve got to fight this time. If we begged for our lives they’d only serve us worse; so let ’em have it, and recollect that, if they kill us, the old Teasers’ll come and burn their town about their ears.”
“’Fraid, Ching?” I whispered; for he and I were in front.
“No ’flaid now,” he whispered back. “Plenty flighten by and by.”
He smiled as he spoke, and led us straight on to where the four mandarin’s men and the rough-looking fellows with them blocked the road, and if for a moment we had shown any hesitation, I believe they would have rushed at us like wolves. But Ching kept his head up as if proud of acting as guide to three British officers, and when we got close up he nodded smilingly at the men in the mandarin’s colours, and then, as if astounded at the little crowd standing fast, he burst out into a furious passion, shouting at them in a wild gabble of words, with the effect of making them give way at once, so that we passed through.
Then I heard him draw a panting breath, and saw that he was ghastly.
“Walkee walkee,” he whispered. “Not velly fast. ’Top I say lun, and lun fast alleegether.”
At that moment there was a loud shouting behind, then a yell, and, turning my head, I saw that the mandarin’s men had their great blades out, and were leading the men after us, shouting to excite themselves and the little mob.