CHAPTER IX.
CHOW OUTWITS A GREAT MANDARIN, AND SETS OUT TO RESCUE HIS MASTER.
As they walked to the inn Chow explained to Sing his plan for the rescue of Nicholas, which, after some serious consideration and many words of advice, the innkeeper approved; but as it could not be put in operation before evening, as soon as they reached the inn they went into one of the inner apartments, and while they refreshed themselves with a good meal, chatted over the details.
After they had completed their arrangements, Sing led Chow to an outbuilding, in which were two oblong coffins, the one sealed down, the other with the lid half off. The first contained the body of Sing's daughter, of whom he had been so fond in life that in death he kept her in the same room with the open coffin which had been presented to him by the girl as a filial offering.
Such gifts as this, which I dare say you will think a sombre one, are by no means more rare among the Chinese than the preservation in their own houses of the bodies of those they have loved. And just above an altar upon which incense was burning, hung a portrait of the dead girl, before which silently and with cheeks damped with tears of memory, Sing threw himself reverentially, and prayed fervently for the other world happiness of his child. Having, with as much real sympathy as mere courtesy, joined in the ceremony for a short time, Chow arose, and left the bereaved parent throwing cuttings of silver paper upon the burning dish, in the belief that in the next world it would change into real money for his daughter's use.
As when Chow reached the police tribunal he found it closed for the day, he clattered upon a large gong or kettle drum, affixed to the door, a piece of great daring on his part; for if his business did not strike the mandarin as being of the greatest importance, he might make sure of some fifty blows for his impudence, for the public officers in China are quite as averse to doing too much for the public money as many that I could name of our own.
The door was opened and the boy was shown into the hall of audience, where he had not long to wait before the mandarin and four bamboo sticks in waiting made their appearance. "How, dog! Why this clatter at our gates when the tribunal is closed?" asked the surly grandee.
"Will the magnificent fountain of justice give his unworthy servant a private hearing?" said the bold boy, glancing significantly at the bamboo sticks in waiting.
"Let the fellow's mouth be opened with ten blows for his impudence," said the polite magistrate; but as the men were about to obey, Chow thrust his hand into his robe, and pulling out a letter threw it into the great man's lap, a piece of effrontery so beyond all precedent that the bamboo sticks waiting stood aghast and ready at a glance from the mandarin to immolate the profane boy. The magistrate, however, no sooner opened the paper than in tremulous tones he exclaimed, "Leave us alone, this fellow has matters of private importance to communicate."
This order having been obeyed, Chow broke through the rules of decency and etiquette by speaking before he was spoken to. "A crime has been committed within thy district, O mandarin, yet justice sleeps. Surely this is not according to the sacred books," said he.