"Looks like a general exodus," said Burroughs, his eyes narrowing. "Something is wrong."
"Yes," said Mr. Ting: "velly much long."
He recrossed the gangway to the quay. Burroughs, shading his eyes against the sunlight, remained on the boat, searching the crowd for the familiar tall form of Errington.
The launch drew in, and the merchants on board, recognizing Mr. Ting, began to shout to him; but all speaking together in their respective languages, it was impossible to make out what any of them said. As soon as they had landed, however, Burroughs, who had now returned to the quay, was singled out by his agent, and told of the exciting events which had happened at Chia-ling Fu.
For several days the European community had been in a state of nervous tension owing to reports of the successes of the rebels further north. Despite all the efforts of the ill-armed, ill-disciplined rabble that so frequently masquerades as an army in the interior of China, the insurgents had made great headway. They had captured Cheng Tu, and an attempt to retake the place had been defeated, with considerable loss to the so-called regular troops. The success of the rebels had brought, as is always the case, large accessions to their numbers. All the restless and turbulent elements of the province for two hundred miles round had flocked to the captured city. There were no Europeans there except a few French missionaries who were reported to be held prisoners, but to have suffered no ill-usage.
This news put every one at Chia-ling Fu on the alert. Arrangements were made to move down river at short notice. The Europeans recognized that, whatever might be the treatment of the missionary prisoners, the lives of any white men captured by the insurgents must always be in jeopardy. Even where their leaders desired, from policy, to protect their prisoners, the blood-thirstiness and anti-foreign prejudices of their ignorant following were always likely to force their hand.
It had been expected at Chia-ling Fu, however, that news of any southward movement of the rebels would be reported by native spies in time to enable the Europeans to make their escape. But just before dawn on this morning, they had been wakened by the sound of shots and a great hubbub. They sprang up, pulled on their clothes hurriedly, seized their arms, and sallied out to see what was afoot. They found the city already in the hands of the insurgents. Making a wide circuit by night, an immense force had crept upon the place from the landward side, and at the same time a large fleet of vessels of all descriptions, including two or three steamers captured at Cheng Tu, had come down the river and anchored at some little distance above the city. The sleepy sentinels at all the gates had been surprised and overpowered, the rabble poured in, and the place fell without striking a blow.
All these details were not known until afterwards: the confusion at dawn had been so great that the Europeans knew nothing except the bare fact that the city was captured, and that they were prisoners. To their great surprise, in a few hours they were all released, told to collect their belongings, and conveyed to the steamer which had just brought them down the river. Clearly the leaders of the insurgents intended to show that the rising was a purely domestic one; they did not wish to provoke action by the foreign Powers.
All the time that Burroughs was listening to the story told him by his agent, he kept his eyes on the gangway, hoping to see Errington step off. He recognized several acquaintances among the passengers, but his old friend did not appear.
"Where's Mr. Errington?" he asked his agent.