"Och, you dirty thavin' blackguard, take that!"
A fist shot out of the little opening in the side of the covered chair, and a blow like that of trip-hammer caught the Chinese on the jaw and dashed him against the steep hillside. Then, with a spring which knocked his forward chair-bearer off his feet, Gorman was out in the open ready for action.
He was none too soon. Supple as a cat, the Chinese had rolled over and, lying on the ground, was already taking aim. But Gorman was too quick. The rifle was dashed aside and discharged harmlessly along the mountain slope. In another instant it was wrenched out of the hands of the Chinese and flung across the path, down the bank into the river. Then, gripping his adversary by the neck-band of his short blue jacket, the Irishman, with one tremendous heave of hand and foot together, lifted the Chinese clear of the ground and pitched him headlong after his rifle. The last wild scream of rage and fear ended in the splash of the falling body. The swift dark water swept it out of sight.
"Begorra, an' ye'll not abuse definseless women anny more!"
At the first sound of Gorman's voice mingling with the shrill clamour of the Chinese, Sinclair had sprung from his chair with a big .44 revolver in his hand, ready for action. He did not know what had brought on the scrimmage. But a glance showed him that, while Gorman was quite able to cope with the present situation, there was a possibility of serious danger. A few long strides brought him to where the sergeant had just flung his opponent down the bank into the river.
The screams of terror of the women redoubled at the sight of the two foreigners. The size of Sinclair, the fierce vigour of Gorman, the fair complexions, the foreign dress and foreign weapons of both, brought to mind the stories they had heard from infancy of the great, green-eyed, red-faced, hairy barbarians who came from over the sea, who knew not the rules of good conduct, and who, whenever they got the chance, maltreated the sons and daughters of Han.
Cries of "Ang-mng! Ang-mng!" (Red-heads), "Hoan-a-kui!" (Foreign devils) rose above the inarticulate shrieks of fear.
Sergeant Gorman was equal to the occasion. Utterly unmindful of the wild disorder about him, he busied himself gathering up the articles of jewellery which the thief had dropped in the struggle. Then with his best Chinese and profound bows he returned these to the women from whom they had been torn.
For a moment the terrified women could not realize his meaning. When they did, their shrill cries of "Ang-mng!" and "Hoan-a-kui!" gave place to that of "Ho-sim! Ho-sim!" (Good heart).
At the same time the student guide, getting an opportunity to make his voice heard, was explaining that these were not Frenchmen, but Englishmen, that they were friends of the missionary, Kai Bok-su, and that they were doctors going to heal the Chinese who had been wounded in the battle with the French. Again the cry "Ho-sim!" (Good heart) rose from the fugitives. Only some of the rascally looters looked at them with evil eyes and sullen faces.