"I can think of no safe means. If the Russians are determined to keep his whereabouts secret——"
"That is itself an admission that they are in the wrong," interrupted Gabriele.
"It may be. I was going to say that if that is their determination it will be very difficult to trace him, and the only likely course would be to follow up enquiries along the railway."
"That is almost hopeless in present circumstances. The war has disorganized everything. Besides, how am I to get into Moukden again?"
"Why attempt it? Why not try to gain the coast and make for home, and trust to diplomatic representations at St. Petersburg?"
"No, no, father, I certainly disagree with you," cried Gabriele. "You know how slowly diplomacy works. Think of it; Monsieur Brown may pass months, perhaps years, in the most terrible uncertainty and suspense. No; if I were in his place I would do as he means to do. Oh, I wish I were a man!"
"But think of the danger! If he were to go as a European, he would be set upon by Chinese in the out-of-the-way parts through which he must pass. In the towns the English and the French are respected when other Europeans are not, but in the country parts all alike are foreign devils, of less account than pigs. If he got safely within the Russian lines he would probably be arrested as a spy and shot. His only chance is to go as a Chinaman."
"As a Chinaman?"
"Yes, disguised to the best of our ability."
Gabriele looked dubiously at Jack, as though questioning whether any disguise would serve.