“Mm—I don’t know. He claims to be; but the fellow puzzles me. Many of the Chinese wear a mask of expressionless reserve; but Mai Lo is the most incomprehensible being I have ever met. If he weren’t clever he wouldn’t be a high mandarin, so we can’t judge him by his terracotta face and beady eyes.”
“Oh, well,” remarked my father, “we can’t endanger our own health by keeping a decaying body on board, so whenever you’re ready for the ceremony, Doctor, we will give the Prince as decent a sea-burial as possible. And that in spite of the old mandarin. By the way, Sam, see if Mai Lo wants anything to eat.”
I arose and knocked softly upon the door of the state cabin. Presently it was opened a mere crack and I caught a glimpse of Mai Lo’s expressionless face behind it. But when he saw me he closed the door again quickly, before I had time to speak; and I heard the key click in the lock.
“Let the beast starve,” I growled, turning away to go on deck; and the others seemed to approve the sentiment, for they followed me without protest.
CHAPTER VII.
WE BECOME CONSPIRATORS.
“You’ll find my first suggestion was good,” said Archie, as we stood in the shelter of the wheel-house, for the wind was half a gale by this time. “The proper thing to do is to chuck old Death’s-Head overboard.”
“It would certainly simplify matters,” I agreed; “but unfortunately it can’t be done.”
“Then we ought to cultivate his friendship,” said Joe.
“How can we?”
“I don’t know; but it’s a great mistake to allow him to think he’s our enemy.”