There was no one there. The only light, a very faint one, came through a barred window at the end. He heard nothing; slipped out into the cool open air.
He clung close to the buildings. The courtyard was deserted. A shadow of the whipping-post lay like a band across the stone paving. No window showed any light. At last he got to the corridor which led to freedom. He peeped around an angle of the wall. This prison had been a fortress in feudal times, and just inside the great nail- studded gate there was a cramped guardroom.
A dim light, probably that of a lantern, shone out from the guardroom door.
And he had to pass that door.
He inhaled deeply, then went ahead. No one was to be seen inside, the lantern stood on a table. He passed, and came to the gate.
The bolts—they seemed to be well oiled—were already withdrawn from the sockets which secured the gate.
Inch by inch. Tony swung open the mass of teak and iron. When the gap was wide enough to slip through, he stepped out, paused for a moment, breathing hard, then gently reclosed the gate.
He set off at a good pace, but avoided running. His escape had been perfectly planned. The guard had only to shoot the bolts into place, employ his national talent for lying, and the prisoner’s disappearance would look like magic, for Tony had taken the keys and the lighter with him. Sound staff work. But it must have cost a lot of money.
When he came to the river, there was his old sampan, tied up to a rickety stage.
Not pausing to examine the craft, he cast loose the mooring line and stepped on to the oarsman’s platform, aft.
When day broke into full flame he was many miles south. He tied up in a cactus-lined backwater from which he could see no signs of a nearby road. Then he stooped under the strip of plaited roof and went in to find where the money was hidden and what provisions he had.
There was a Chinese girl asleep in the cabin.
She was curled up on a heap of matting, one arm half covering her face. Her clothes were at least as ragged and soiled as his own and her black hair was disheveled He could see that she had long dark lashes and there were tear tracks from her closed eyes cutting through the dirt on her cheeks.
How had she got on board, and when? She might have been there from the time he started, or she might have crept on later, during one of his several reconnaissance tours ashore.
However, here she was, and he had to make up his mind what he was going to do with her. An added problem, when he had far too many to cope with already. First and foremost stood the problem of Chien-Wei. Where was Chien-Wei? He had never heard of it. Such names cropped up like nettles all over the map of China. Was it a town or merely a village? This he must find out, and soon, for he might be getting farther away from the place instead of nearer.
Creeping quietly out to the stem, carrying soap and shaving material, he stripped, soaped himself all over and then dropped into the cool water. Climbing back, much refreshed, he toweled and, stifling his disgust, got into the filthy rags which were all he had. Then he lighted his galley fire (an iron bucket with holes punched in it) using dry wood gathered on the bank, and boiled a pannikin of water.
He was struggling through his first shave for more than two weeks when he saw the girl watching him. He paused, shaving brush in hand, and stared. He had expected coal-black eyes. But her eyes were dark blue. He remembered, though, that some of the up-country peasants had blue eyes. She looked like a very dirty Chinese doll.
“So you are awake at last?”
“Yes.” She looked down and shuddered. “How long did I sleep?”
She had a pretty, bell-like voice, but it shook nervously.
“I don’t know.” More to reassure her than for any other reason he went on shaving. “When did you come on board?”
“Some time last night,” she answered.
Wiping his face, he began anxiously to forage in the locker. His own few pots and pans were there. He had jettisoned everything incriminating when he had realized they were coming to arrest him. He found a considerable sum of money, mostly in small currency, and there were cigarettes and a carton of canned meat, soup and other edibles. Sea toast and rice he found, too, and fresh fruit; soap, shaving kit, matches, a bottle of lime juice and a bottle of Scotch. And, last of all, a .38 and a box of shells.
Then, resoaping his chin, he went on shaving again. “You came on board at Chia-Ting?”
“Yes. Please don’t throw me off. I don’t know what I shall do if you won’t let me stay.”
At Chia-Ting! The ways of these people were strange and tortuous. Did they know more than he supposed? Was this little stowaway a spy? Perhaps it was a plot to learn where he was going, to identify his associates.
He finished shaving. The girl, her hands clasped, waited with entreaty in her eyes.
“What’s your name?”
“Yueh Hua. I can cook, and fish, and manage a boat. I won’t be any trouble!”
Yeuh Hua meant “Moon Flower”. This poor little waif hardly looked the part.
“Where did you come from?”
“A small village ten miles from Chia-Ting. It is called Su-Chien.”
“And what were you doing in Chia-Ting?”
“Running away from my stepfather.” She spoke eagerly. “He had sold me to Fuen Chang, a horrible old man who would have beaten me. It is his only pleasure, beating girls.”
“You had friends in Chia-Ting, I suppose?”
“Yes.” Yueh Hua nodded. “My sister. But she had gone. There was nothing to do but try to get to my aunt. It is a long way.”
Tony sponged his face, washed the shaving brush, and began, very thoughtfully, to clean the razor blade. If this girl was an agent of the Master she certainly knew her piece.
“Where does your aunt live?”
“In Lung Chang.”
“Where is Lung Chang?”
“On the Lu Ho,7
This startled him. He was far from sure of his route to the Lu Ho.
“Do you know the way to Lung Chang?”
“Of course!” There came a flash of white teeth in the grimy face. “I used to go there in my father’s boat. I mean, my real father.”
“I see.” He replaced the razor in its box. “What I don’t see is why you came on to my boat and fell asleep.”
“I was tired and frightened. I had walked a long way. People were beginning to notice me—to follow me. I came on your boat to hide. I don’t remember falling asleep. Are you angry with me?”
Chapter IV
Some hours before this interesting conversation took place, a less amiable conversation had been held in the office of the governor of the prison. Dr. Fu Manchu sat behind the desk. The old governor and Colonel Soong stood before him.
“I fear. Colonel Soong, that here is some serious breach of discipline. There would seem to be traitors among your men.” He spoke softly, but there was menace in every syllable.
Colonel Soong’s voice was unsteady when he replied, “I assure you. Most High, it is not so. This man’s escape Was magic.”
The narrowed green eyes were turned in the old governor’s direction.
“Who had charge of the keys?”
“The head jailer. Highness.”
“Where are they now?”
“In their usual place where he placed them having re-locked the prisoner in his cell after his interview with Highness.”
