"Honourable nobility's servant asks fifty ounces of silver for——"
"By and by, by and by. Your story must be proved. It sounds likely enough——"
"You are quite right, your nobility," said another voice in good Russian. "It is more than likely; it is literally true."
As the figure of a young Chinaman advanced from a dark part of the room, the startled officers backed and cocked their revolvers; the informer, turning a sickly green under his yellow skin, stared mouth agape at the speaker; while, from the corner where the man's fellow-conspirator had been waiting, the sound of a choking gurgle showed that Wang Shih was busy with his old friend the constable.
The scene in the dimly-lit room was one not likely to be soon forgotten by the actors in the drama.
While the two officers stood fingering their weapons in amazed irresolution, and the wretched traitor leant for support against the k'ang, the new-comer continued:
"What this man says, gentlemen, is perfectly true, so far as he knows. But he doesn't know all. Before you do anything rash allow me to explain. The howl you have just heard was the second, not the first signal. Ah Lum's men have already surrounded the village, and eighty men inside are prepared to rush the quarters occupied by your troops. The inn is watched; the slightest commotion here will be the third signal."
The news was in itself sufficient to provoke the deepest wrath, but the coolness with which the explanation was given enraged the captain beyond all bounds. Springing forward with an oath he cried, "I will risk it!" and snapped his revolver within a foot of the Chinaman's head.
There was no report.
"It is fortunate for you, sir, that we drew the charges while you slept. But for that, your fate and that of your men would have been sealed. If you will give me your word of honour not to make a sound, I will give you ocular proof of what I have said. Believe me, it is only to save your detachment from annihilation. But you shall judge."