The tomb of Ts'in
many apologies to his powerful rival, and Soo’s agents were active.
The first indication of trouble that Talham had seen, took the shape
of a jagged stone which was thrown at him as he passed through the
bazaar on an afternoon on his return from one of his expeditions.
That evening he found the soldiers sullen, and he was interviewed by
the officer of the guard.
“My insignificant men,” said the officer, “have petitioned me, asking
that your Noble Beneficence will restore to them their arms, because
they feel afraid and ashamed also, since the common people of the
bazaar laugh at them.”
“You may tell your men to go to the devil,” said Talham without
finesse.
But an hour later the officer had returned, this time with a fresh
grievance.
“My men,” he said boldly, “do not like these strangers sleeping in the
same room with them, for they come from another province, and are
members of another society.”
“Captain,” said Talham patiently, “if you come to me again with such
stories, I will have you beaten on the feet.”
Later, he was to receive private advice from one of these same
strangers, that the men had had a meeting and were discussing the
advisability of leaving the compound in a body.
This threat took definite shape the next morning, when the officer
came yet again in some fear to announce the intention of his men.
“These pigs,” he said humbly, “will leave your Excellency unless their
arms are returned.”
“Tell them they may leave,” said Talham cheerfully, “and they will get
no arms from me.”
The situation outside the gates was even more serious. A rumour had
broken through the bazaar that the foreigners had come to mark out the
land for a railway.
The people in this province were fanatics on the question of
“fire-horses,” and every hour the feeling grew against the intruders.
Talham suspected the Mandarin of fostering this feeling. Twice when he
had called at the Yamen His Excellency had been indisposed and only
his “men-shang” was visible. On the occasion of the second visit (he
had called in on his way back from one of his trips of exploration) a
hostile crowd surrounded his horse, and somebody from the outskirts of
the crowd had thrown a stone which narrowly missed his face.
Instantly the big man turned his horse, scattering the people left and
right. He had seen the face of the thrower, and reaching down he
caught him by the collar of his jacket and galloped with him at full
speed through the streets, his prisoner alternately running and
stumbling in the powerful grip of his captor.
Talham reached the compound and the gates closed behind him; then he
turned his attention to his captive.
“Seize that man,” he said in Chinese, and the guard obeyed the order
reluctantly.
Talham dismounted and came to where the man stood.
“Why did you throw stones?” he asked.
“Because you are a ‘foreign devil’ and are going to bring the
‘fire-horses’ across the graves of our ancestors,” said the Chinaman.
“Who told you this?”
“Everybody knows it,” answered the prisoner, emboldened by the fact
that he had escaped immediate punishment.
“You are not of this town. Where do you come from?”
The man hesitated.
“I come from Tang Ti,” he said suddenly.
“Oh, liar, and son of a liar!” said Talham. “You come from Tai-pau.”
The man shifted uneasily on his feet.
“Who sent you?” asked Talham. “Let me see his shoulder.”
Again the guard showed some reluctance to obey, and Talham himself
stepped forward and tore the blouse of the man from his neck and
scrutinised the yellow flesh for the sign of the tell-tale tattoo.
It was there.
“Go back to Lao-ae Soo T’si,” he said, “and tell him that I know who
is at the bottom of all this hostility. I speak to you fairly,” he
added, “because I see you are a student, and perhaps you are the son
of great parents.”
The young man nodded.
“I am the son of a son of a Mandarin,” he said with pride.
Your Chinaman will never deny his parentage if it be sufficiently
illustrious.
“Well, then, son of a son of a Mandarin, or son of a son of a gun,
whichever you are,” said Talham, “go quickly from this place and take
with you as many of your friends as you can find.”
With that he turned the man loose.
That night Talham’s escort deserted in a body, and the big man was
jubilant.
“It couldn’t have happened better,” he said. “I was wondering how I
could get rid of the beggars.”
Instantly he assembled his own men and armed them. He was satisfied of
their loyalty, and distributed ammunition that same night. For some
reason the hostility in the bazaar had ceased after that one act of
stone-throwing. The escort disappeared from the town as if by magic.
It was not a healthy sign as Talham knew, because armed or disarmed,
they were men who carried the Imperial badge upon their breast, and
their hurried departure was ominous.
He rode out now to Mount Li with an escort of four of his own men. He
thought he had detected the entrance to the tomb.
Half-way down the hill two straight ledges of the rock jutted out.
They ran parallel to one another for about twenty yards, and then
curved downward into the earth. From a distance they had every
appearance of being placed there by nature, but something induced
Talham to take a closer view. He made the ascent over the loose rubble
and through the stunted bushes which covered the hillside.
He examined them carefully, and in the end he had no doubt whatever
that they were placed there by the hand of man.
This would be the entrance, if entrance there were.
He had looked for an opening to the tomb at the foot of the hill.
Apparently, it was half-way up that he must seek it.
“I am perfectly sure,” he told Tillizinni that night, “that if we can
dig between those two pieces of sculpture, for pieces of sculpture
they are, ingeniously carved to represent natural rock, and at the
same time to afford some interested person a clue as to the
whereabouts of the hill, we shall come upon the famous bronze door
which hides the secret of the Emperor’s artificers.
“We shall have to do our digging by night,” he went on; “but I don’t
anticipate digging very far. From what I have seen of the entrance to
the tomb, it looks as though a few more showers of rain would wash the
bronze door into view.”
Preparations were far advanced towards the final examination of the
hill, and it was in the afternoon previous to the day on which the
attempt was to be made, that a courier came hot-foot from the Yamen
summoning Talham to the Mandarin’s presence.
He had not seen the great man for some days, and wondering what was
new, and somewhat apprehensive, since it was quite on the cards that
Pekin may have sent an Imperial edict prohibiting any further
research, he hurried to the Yamen, and was instantly admitted to the
presence of the Mandarin, who received him with great geniality.
“A courier has brought a letter for your honourable self from Pekin,”
and he picked it up from a little ebony table.
The letter, whatever it was, was enclosed in a large envelope covered
with Chinese characters.
Talham opened the outer envelope slowly, dreading the contents. They
proved to be two letters, and the first of these was startling enough,
for it was addressed to Miss Yvonne Yale, c/o the British Consul, Hoo
Sin.
Talham stared. There was no British Consul in Hoo Sin.
With a start he recognised the handwriting as that of Mrs. Yale.
The second was addressed to himself, and was from the same lady. He
tore it open quickly and read its contents with a sinking heart. It
ran:
“Dear Captain Talham,--
“Yvonne left London yesterday for China to join you. She is travelling
by the overland route.
“Naturally, I felt very chary of allowing her to go by herself, but
your telegram was so emphatic that I could not deny the dear girl the
pleasure which I know she will feel in meeting you.
“I am sure you will telegraph her arrival the moment she gets to Hoo
Sin, and that the ladies who have so kindly offered her their
hospitality will not be disappointed in my gem! I should be glad if
you will thank them for me.”
“My God!” muttered Talham, for he had sent no cablegram to the girl or
to her mother.
CHAPTER XVIII.
IN THE CAVERN OF THE DEAD.
“The honourable stranger has received bad news,” said the Mandarin.
Talham looked at him thoughtfully. Could he help?
“I have received very bad news,” he said, “with which I will not
assail your magnificent ear. Yet I would ask you this. Where is the
nearest telegraph town?”
The Mandarin considered.
“There is one at Tai Pan,” he said, looking straightly at the other.
“That is the nearest. Otherwise you would have to go to Cho Sin, which
is a hundred and fifty _li_ from here.”
“I shall send to Tai Pan,” said Talham, and took his leave with a
little ceremony.
All messages that went through Tai Pan would, of course, be seen by
Soo. It was Cho Sin or nothing.
He got back to the compound, and found Tillizinni making an inspection
of the walls.
“I’ve bad news,” he said, and with remarkable brevity told the
contents of the letter.
“The girl has been lured here by Soo,” said Tillizinni; “that’s
evident.”
“My God, she may be in Tai Pan now!” said Talham.
“He would have met her at one of the wayside stations on the
Trans-Siberian. It’s horrible, Tillizinni, horrible!”
Tillizinni considered.
“One thing is evident,” he said after a while. “Once you have
penetrated the tomb of the Emperor you must clear out quick. Why not
make the attempt to-night and leave China by way of Tai Pan? You have
fifty men. Make a dash upon Soo’s stronghold and take your chance of
finding Yvonne there.”
Talham thought for awhile.
“That is one scheme,” he said; “but I think I know a better. I will
leave twenty men to defend this place and use this as my base. We’ll
go to the tomb to-night.”
Talham could have let the tomb go--but there was nothing to be gained
by this. Mount Li was on the way to Tai Pan--the two expeditions could
be accomplished in one night. He could reach Tai Pan before the dawn.
Soo would not be prepared for an early morning rush upon his city.
Prudence and interest dictated parallel courses.
Talham had committed to memory the instructions which the dead
builders had left, some of which apparently conflicted with those upon
the jade bracelet.
He had written down the words engraved upon the bracelet, and now he
read them again.
“I am Shun, the son of the great mechanic, Shoo Shun, upon whom the
door fell when the Emperor passed. This my father told me before the
day, fearing the treachery of the Eunuchs.
“Behold the pelican on the left wall with the bronze neck. Afterwards
the spirit steps, afterwards rivers of silver, afterwards door of
bronze. Here Emperor… behind a great room filled with most precious
treasures.”
“I guess he’s a little wrong in the bronze door part of it,” said
Tillizinni. “It’s possible that there were two sets of disloyal
mechanics planning to secure the Emperor’s treasure, and made
provisions for entering and retiring at the proper moment.”
That afternoon his men left singly and in two’s and three’s, making
for the rendezvous, and when night fell, Tillizinni and Talham, both
men heavily armed, rode out into the dark streets, and the door of the
compound closed behind them.
They had left twenty-three men under a trusted old officer who had
been with Talham in the Northern wars, and the remainder of the party
were picked up beyond the city walls.
They rode along the mud track which led to Mount Li.
It was eleven o’clock before they debouched from the road and picked a
way across the rough, uncultivated land which sloped up to the
Emperor’s tomb.