Meanwhile Ping Wang and Fred had scrambled back, hearing the noise. They joined Charlie, and between them managed to tie the Chinaman's pigtail round the woman's neck, so that neither could move without difficulty.
'Now let us leave them,' Ping Wang said, and they started running. But before they had gone many yards they heard the Chinaman and his wife shouting frantically, 'Foreigners! Kill the foreigners!'
Their shouts were heard by others, also, and a man rushed forward to stop them, but Charlie raised his knife threateningly and the fellow ran. Nevertheless, he too shouted 'Foreigners!' and, gathering together some friends, started in pursuit. At every few yards others joined in the chase.
'Where are you going to take us?' Charlie asked of Ping Wang, after glancing back at the mob pursuing them.
'To the gates,' Ping Wang answered. 'This is our way.'
They turned into one of the narrow streets which they had traversed earlier in the evening, and, as they ran at full speed along it, here and there men came out of their houses to see what the noise meant. They heard the shouts of 'Foreigners!' but the average Chinaman has a great respect for his skin, and consequently not one of the men who saw the Pages and Ping Wang rush by attempted to stop them.
'I'm done up,' Ping Wang gasped before long; 'our only chance is to hide.'
The next street was a short one, and the Pages were surprised after what Ping Wang had said about being tired to see him sprint along it. They followed close on his heels, and when he stopped at the end of it, they did the same. Instead of crossing the wide road which faced them, Ping Wang turned to the right, and after walking quickly for about thirty yards made another turn to the right which brought them into a narrow street running parallel with the one down which they had sprinted. There was no one visible; all the residents were evidently at the feast. Ping Wang stopped at the second house and pressed his hand against the door, which opened. He peeped into the place, and, seeing no one, entered stealthily, the Pages following quickly and equally cautiously. As soon as they were in, Ping Wang shot the bolt of the door. It was a dark and dirty room in which the fugitives found themselves, and by the faint light of a lantern they could see that it was a poverty-stricken place.