Dave Darrin on the Asiatic Station. Or, Winning Lieutenants' Commissions on the Admiral's Flagship

In an undertone the missionary repeated in Chinese. Then, after a few moments, the movement backward began. A visible tremor of rearward motion passed through the throngs.

In silence the Chinese had heard the closing words of their governor, and now no crowd of thousands could have been more noiseless.

“Take his excellency below again,” Dave commanded Sampson. “He is too valuable an asset to lose just yet. Put him on top of the powder magazine. Our missionary friends will assure his excellency that he is in not the least danger unless the attack is begun again.”

Having seen these orders carried out, Ensign Darrin hurried back to the circle of lanterns.

“Ladies, I am glad to be able to say that I think our danger is nearly over,” he announced. “We have a few more wounded to bring down from the walls. After these men have had attention I think we shall be ready to take up the march to the river, and soon after that I believe that you will all be safe on board the ‘Castoga.’ Don’t rub your eyes or pinch yourselves to see if it all be true. I believe the bad dream is ended.”

Then Dave sought out Sin Foo and “Burnt-face.”

“Come with me to the governor,” he directed, for, while the speech from the rampart was being made, these two underlings had somehow managed to slip away from their perilous place on top of the magazine.

“You are not going to offer us violence, are you?” asked Sin Foo fearfully.

“Not unless you do something to merit it,” was Darrin’s response. “I have other uses in view for you.”

Securing the services of the same missionary, Dave directed him to ask the governor if he would trust Sin Foo and “Burnt-face” to go out into the city and carry to the people his excellency’s will that no attack be made upon the Americans when they started for the river front.

The governor replied that his two secretaries were the very ones to carry his orders to his people.

“So that fellow is a secretary to the governor, also?” asked Darrin, pointing to “Burnt-face.”

“He is the governor’s secretary,” replied the missionary. “Sin Foo is the under secretary, who, that he might deal with Englishmen and Americans, was educated in England.”

“Warn the governor that if his secretaries play him false, and we are attacked, then his excellency will surely lose his life,” Dave requested.

“His excellency is satisfied that his secretaries will serve him faithfully, and keep his life secure,” the missionary declared.

The governor himself spoke to “Burnt-face” and Sin Foo, after which both bowed low.

“Now, you two may turn yourselves out into the street,” Dave announced. “We will let you pass through the gates. See to it that you circulate well, and that you impress upon the people their governor’s wishes. Otherwise, his excellency will sail sky-high on a keg of powder – you may be sure of that!”

To Ensign Dave’s intense amazement, both “Burnt-face” and Sin Foo bowed very low before him. Next, they threw themselves upon their knees before the governor, who addressed them briefly, but earnestly.

When the secretaries rose Dave called a petty officer, to take them to the gate and to vouch for their right to pass out.

In the meantime the wounded were being attended. Nearly all of the unhurt defenders still remained upon the ramparts, though the great open spaces below were devoid of any signs of a hostile populace.

“I wonder if his excellency would like to change his shoes before starting,” Dave suggested to Bishop Whitlock, as he glanced down at the governor’s dainty embroidered silken footgear.

“Are you going to take the governor with us?” asked the Bishop.

“He must go with us to the river front, and must remain there until all of our party is safe,” Darrin answered.

“But you really mustn’t make him walk,” objected the Bishop. “If you did, it would be such an affront as the people of Nu-ping would never forgive in foreigners. There are several sedan chairs in the yamen, and there are still enough attendants left to bear it. Permit me, Mr. Darrin, to see to the matter of the governor’s sedan.”

“I shall be deeply grateful, sir, if you will,” was Dave’s answer.

In less than five minutes the chair was ready, resting on the shoulders of eight husky coolies.

Ten minutes later the gates were thrown open. The defenders, hastily recalled from the ramparts, had formed.

First in the line were the marines, with a machine gun. Then followed a detachment of sailors. Danny Grin took command of the advance guard. Behind this were the wounded, some of whom hobbled slowly and painfully, as there was no conveyance except for those who had been badly hurt.

After the wounded came the women, in a body, and, behind them, the governor in his sedan chair.

There followed the missionaries, armed and unarmed, and the other male American residents of Nu-ping. Finally marched the rest of the seamen with Pembroke as their prisoner, and Dave commanded at this point.

Outside all was now as still as though in a city of the dead.

Was it safe to risk the march, or were they soon to run into some villainous trap prepared by the ingenuity of the Chinese?

“Forward, march!” Ensign Darrin sent the order down the line.

CHAPTER XIII – ALL ABOUT A CERTAIN BAD MAN

Like a long-drawn-out snail the procession crept through the yamen gates. The pace was set by the men most severely wounded.

Was it safe to leave the yamen while multitudes were yet abroad in the city, and those multitudes angry over the shedding of Chinese blood?

How many Chinese had fallen in the fight Darrin had no means of estimating. He had seen many fall, but dead and wounded alike had been promptly carried away by their own countrymen.

That the city of Nu-ping was in a ferment of anger there could be no doubt. Yet the governor, who had professed that morning to be unable to stem the revolution, had, by a few words, sent the fighting throngs back in the dead of night.

Last of all in the line walked Dave, in as uncomfortable a frame of mind as he had ever known. If his little party should be attacked and overwhelmed, and the women killed, he had made up his mind that he would make no effort to outlive the disaster. Death would be preferable.

There was still one other who knew less of comfort than any in the procession. That one was His Excellency, the Governor of Nu-ping.

In the sedan chair had been placed six kegs of powder, one of them opened. On top of the kegs, without as much as a cushion to soften the hardness of the seat, was his excellency, squatting, terror-stricken.

On either side marched a sailor with a loaded rifle. Also beside the sedan marched Sailorman Sampson, with a package of loose powder and a piece of slow-match found at the yamen. Seaman Sampson had his orders, with a considerable amount of discretionary power added, all of which was known to the governor with the greenish-yellow face.

As the line swung into the street on the way to the river, Danny Grin and two seamen trod softly ahead, alert for any surprises that might be met, particularly at street corners.

Not a sound was heard from natives, however, save for the occasional groans of the greenish-yellow governor, who, at that moment, was more fully posted on the feeling of absolute terror than was any other man in China.

No move was made on the part of the natives to stop the progress of the Americans. The party soon reached the wharf at the river front.

Now, with the women out on the wharf, Dalzell hastily drew up new lines of defense, pointing cityward, while Dave, with flashlight and whistle, managed to attract attention from the deck of the “Castoga” and to flash the signal to the watch officer.

It seemed but the work of a minute to get the launch and two ship’s boats under way. The launch chugged busily shoreward. No time was wasted on explanations. The women and wounded were hurried into the boats and taken out to the gunboat.

On the next trip the rest of the party was speedily embarked.

As the last act, Sampson relaxed his watch over his excellency. Signs were made to the governor’s chair bearers to take their lord back to the yamen. Nor did the departure of the governor take any time at all.

“Well done, Darrin! Fine, Dalzell!” boomed the hearty voice of Lieutenant-Commander Tuthill as the two young officers stepped on the deck of the gunboat. “Every man under your command has behaved like an American!”

Then, as his eye roved to Pembroke, standing under marine guard, he asked:

“How came Mr. Pembroke to be in trouble?”

“Attempted treachery,” Darrin responded. “I caught him trying to open the yamen gate to the Chinese rebels.”

Tuthill’s brow darkened.

“Pembroke, I did not think that of you, sir. You have a heavy burden of guilt! You will be taken down to the brig and locked up until I can decide what is to be done in your case, sir.”

After Pembroke had been marched below, to go behind bars, the commander of the gunboat continued, in a low tone to Darrin:

“I am afraid not much of anything can be done with him. He is a British subject, I suppose, and guilty of an offense committed on Chinese soil. The most that I can do will be to keep him locked up until to-morrow, and then turn him loose. Perhaps the Chinese will take care of him. The ladies are waiting in the wardroom to thank Dalzell and yourself. You had both better go inside.”

“I’d rather face the Chinese again,” laughed Dan, “than have to stand and be thanked by a lot of women.”

An hour later the ladies were established for the night, several of the officers’ quarters having been given over to them. The American missionaries and civilians, like the sailors, were obliged to sleep in hammocks.

Just as Dave was seeking a mattress on the floor of the wardroom Surgeon Oliver hurried in. “Darrin,” began the medical man, “did you know that Pembroke was badly hurt?”

“By the blow I gave him on the head?” queried the young ensign, wheeling.

“No, though that was quite bad enough. A stray bullet hit the fellow in the side, and he bound it up as best he could. He tells me that the shot hit him before you struck him down – perhaps an hour earlier.”

“If I had known that,” murmured Darrin, “he would have had somewhat softer handling.”

“Pembroke is really in a bad way,” continued the surgeon. “I have had him removed from the brig to the sick-bay, and have put a hospital attendant on watch over him to-night.”

“Is he going to die?” asked Ensign Darrin.

“Can’t say; I think not. But what brought me here is the fact that Pembroke asked if he might see you.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“Certainly.”

Dave was tired out. Danny Grin was already sound asleep on a mattress on the floor. Darrin had been yawning heavily, but now the call of humanity appealed to him.

“I’ll go with you, Doctor,” Dave added, and followed the surgeon.

In a bunk down in the sick bay Pembroke tossed uneasily, his face a bright red.

“Here is Mr. Darrin, Pembroke,” announced the medical officer.

“You’ll think I had a jolly large amount of nerve to send for you,” murmured the stricken man, holding out a hand. Under the circumstances Darrin did not hesitate to take the hand.

“Sit down, won’t you?” begged Pembroke, and Dave occupied a stool alongside.

“I felt that I ought to see you,” Pembroke went on. “Sawbones tells me I have plenty of chance to pull through, but I’m not so sure about that. If my carcass is to be heaved over in canvas, with a solid shot for weight, I want to go as clean as I can. So I want to tell you a few things about myself, Mr. Darrin. You don’t mind, do you?”

“I shall be glad to hear whatever you have to say to me,” Dave replied.

“You look jolly well tired out,” observed the stricken man, “so I won’t detain you long. To-night you accused me of being a scoundrel, and you had the goods on me. There can be no doubt about my being crooked, and I may as well admit it.”

“Then you are really Rogers, instead of Pembroke?” Dave asked.

“I’ve used both names, but neither belongs to me. I have had so many names in my day that I barely remember my right one, which I’m not going to tell you, anyway. I came of decent people, and some of them are left. I’m not going to disgrace them. Darrin, I expect that I’m going to die, and I’m going to try to do it like a man – the first manly thing I’ve done in years. If I wanted to live at all now, it would be that I might stand and take my punishment for my connection with this Nu-ping affair.”

“I don’t believe that you could be punished for that by Americans,” Dave went on. “You are a British subject, and your offense was committed on Chinese soil.”

“I’m about as English as you are,” returned Pembroke. “If I were a Britisher, and any good I’d been serving my country, right now, in France. I was born on the Atlantic seaboard of the United States. Out of decency I’m not going to name my birth state. At times, when it suited better, I’ve been an Englishman as a matter of convenience. But what I want to tell you about, especially, Darrin, is my connection with this Nu-ping business.”

“Did that connection begin back in Manila?” Darrin asked.

“In Nu-ping first, but there was a Manila end. It won’t take long to tell the story. I – ”

In an instant a deadly pallor appeared in the stricken man’s face. Then he lay silent.

“Doctor, I think Pembroke has gone,” said Dave quietly, as he stepped over to the surgeon who was bent over another cot.

CHAPTER XIV – DAVE HEARS SOME EYE-OPENERS

“I’ll look at the chap in a moment,” replied Dr. Oliver.

But Pembroke had fainted, not died. Restoratives were applied, and presently he was ready to go on.

“Shall I listen to him now, or wait until to-morrow?” Dave asked the surgeon.

“The man will feel better if he talks himself out now,” advised the surgeon.

So Dave sat down again, while Pembroke rambled on:

“You see, Darrin, this isn’t the first time I have served Chinese officials among white men. I was in Nu-ping when that yarn got abroad that the missionaries had secretly looted that old temple and had removed millions in loot, burying the treasure secretly in the compound grounds of the mission at Nu-ping. You have no idea how such stories take hold in China. Doubtless, as a result of former rebellions and wars in China, the country is full of spots where fortunes have been buried for safety, with the people who buried the treasure killed off and the secret lost. I believed fully that the missionaries had buried such a treasure here at Nu-ping. The governor was sure of it, and so were his secretaries and the few other officials who had heard the story.”

“Then why didn’t the governor proceed officially and legally to have the mission grounds dug up and searched?” Dave asked.

“Don’t you understand?” cried Pembroke. “If the governor had done that and found the treasure, he would have had to turn it over to the central government. In that there would be mighty little graft for his excellency. Now, unless he did it in an open and official manner, the missionaries could resist and report his excellency to the central government. Being a governor in China in these days isn’t quite so fine a job as it was in the old days under the emperors. In those days the governor was called a viceroy – a ruler who served in the place of the monarch, and a mighty big chap a viceroy was. But these governors of the new breed are not such powerful chaps, though they still have many chances to steal without detection.

“But our yellow governor here at Nu-ping looked the situation over on all sides. He decided that it would be best to have a rebellion take place here on a small scale, have the missionaries killed or chased away, and then have his own men dig up the mission grounds and find the treasure. In the first place, our Nu-ping chap has about twelve thousand troops under his command. They could stop any rebellion that started around here. It was necessary to get the troops out of the way, so his excellency got ready to send them out of the way. He kept in town only the few troops you saw to-day. With so few soldiers he couldn’t be expected to stop a rebellion, could he?

“The more his excellency thought over the matter of the hidden millions in the mission grounds, the more he itched for them. Sin Foo sent for me, and I talked it over with them. The rebellion, once started, might last quite a while. We looked over the American fleet in Asiatic waters and decided that the ‘Castoga’ was the only naval craft of light enough draft to come up the Nung-kiang River to this point. His excellency wanted to take time for a leisurely rebellion, but knew that this gunboat would be sent up here at the first murmurs of trouble. So he sent me to Manila to look over this craft, and, if possible, to cripple or sink her.”

“Sink this gunboat?” asked Dave, in amazement.

“Yes,” Pembroke nodded. “It struck his excellency as being worth while, in case his rebellion here should last long enough.”

“But how could you sink the ‘Castoga’?”

“Not such a difficult thing, if I got myself liked by the officers aboard,” Pembroke replied. “Some afternoon I could put off and come aboard, carrying a suitcase. I could have asked you, or any other officer, to let me leave my case in his cabin over night, couldn’t I?”

“Yes,” Dave said. “But how sink the boat?”

“If the suitcase contained the right contents, and if those contents went off in the dead of night, it would be easy, wouldn’t it?” asked Pembroke, flushing.

“And – you – you – would have done such a thing as that?” gasped Ensign Dave.

“I would have done it – at that time,” Pembroke confessed. “Darrin, drifting through the Orient as I have done for some years, and always needing money – as I did – a fellow gets so he will do many things that he would hardly do in the good old home town.”

Dave shuddered.

“His excellency’s secretary – ” Pembroke went on, but Darrin interrupted to ask:

“The ‘Burnt-face’ chap?”

“Yes. He went to Manila with me to see that I stuck to my job, and that I didn’t misapply too much of the expense money that I carried.”

“I want to ask you something, Pembroke,” Dave broke in quietly. “Do you know anything about the Chinaman who was slain almost alongside this craft one night in Manila?”

“A good deal,” the stricken man admitted. “He was a Christian convert, and the fellow overheard the secretary and myself talking of our plans. In trying to get away the eavesdropper made noise enough so that we pursued him. He escaped us, but we felt that he had to be found. Now, that Chinese convert, like most poor and simple people of his race, did not think of going to the police. He was bound to reason toward more direct procedure. My accomplice felt that the convert would try to warn the commander of the threatened gunboat. That was what he did. He put off alone, at night, to paddle out to the Castoga.’ My accomplice and another Chinese pursued, and – well, you know what was done with the sword.”

Dave looked up from a deep revery as Pembroke finished. As he did so he noticed that the surgeon and a hospital man had been listening in the shadow beyond. Witnesses to such a rehearsal were necessary, so Darrin did not object.

“But tell me one thing,” Dave asked, presently. “In Manila I saw ‘Burnt-face’ look after Miss Chapin with a look amounting to hatred. Why should that have been?”

“Because, in the first place, the fellow hates all Christians, and missionaries in especial. Miss Chapin is a missionary; more, she is engaged to wed the Rev. Mr. Barstow, of the party that you rescued. Now, he and the Rev. Mr. Barstow have been at odds for some time, and the Chinaman hates the missionary most sincerely. Probably the secretary knew that Miss Chapin is engaged to Mr. Barstow.”

“Why did you come up with the party with which Miss Chapin and my wife traveled?” asked Dave.

“Because it was the quickest way to get to Nu-ping,” Pembroke admitted. “And my own reason for coming back here was to get my own share of the loot which, until to-day, I really believed existed in the mission grounds. Now, I think you know all. I – I-”

“You are very tired; I can see that,” said Ensign Darrin quietly. “I am greatly obliged to you for what you have told me, for it has cleared up many points that had puzzled me.”

“You think me a villain – an utter scoundrel, don’t you?” asked Pembroke.

“Yes,” Dave assented, speaking as quietly as before. “Any man who can plot to take innocent lives at wholesale is certainly a wicked scoundrel. But, if you should recover, I hope that you will lead a new life, and will be manly hereafter.”

“I – I wonder if a man can do that, after he has led the kind of life that I have led?” smiled Pembroke, weakly.

“I think so. I believe that you can. But that is not as much in my line as some other questions. The man you should talk with is one of the missionary party. Shall I waken one of them and ask him to come to you?”

“Not to-night,” Pembroke answered, tossing. “I am too weary. If I am alive in the morning, perhaps.”

“Good night,” said Dave, bending over the berth and holding out his hand.

“Can you shake hands with a fellow such as you now know me to be?” demanded Pembroke, in utter amazement.

“Not with the fellow you have been, but with the man I hope you’re going to be,” Dave answered. “Good night, Pembroke.”

“Good night, Darrin.”

CHAPTER XV – WHEN THE FLAGSHIP WAS SIGHTED

In the morning, when Darrin and his chum came on deck, the sun was shining brightly over Nu-ping.

Perhaps a hundred of the smaller houses of the place had been burned by the fires started by the gunboat’s shells the night before, but in a whole city full of small Chinese houses the loss was not especially noticeable.

“You wouldn’t want to land over yonder to-day, Darrin,” smiled Lieutenant Warden, when Ensign Dave saluted him on deck.

“Why not, sir?”

“Soon after daylight the governor’s troops marched into the city. As nearly as we could estimate the strength of the force from this deck, there are about twelve thousand of the troops, and with them are three batteries of field artillery.”

“Are the batteries strong enough to be used against this craft?”

“The batteries might be able to give us a good bit of trouble to handle, but there is no danger of their being employed. It would cost the governor his head to turn his troops against us, for that would be an official act of his, and a violation of China’s peace with us. Of course the pretended riot and rebellion of the populace was carried out by the governor’s secret orders, but we could never prove that. His excellency will be questioned by the Chinese government, but he can claim that the rebellion started when his troops were in another part of the province. The governor will promise Pekin to punish the ringleaders of the rebellion. He will then proceed to ‘try’ and behead a few of his political enemies, and Pekin will be satisfied. That will close the incident.”

A messenger came briskly up, with word calling the executive officer into the presence of his commander.

Pembroke’s confession, which Dave and the witnesses had promptly reported to the Lieutenant-Commander the night before, was the talk of the officers this morning.

The wounded man was said to be in somewhat better condition. All of the wounded sailors, marines and civilians were reported as being in no danger of dying from the injuries received in the spirited fighting of the day before.

Dave’s eyes caught sight of Belle the instant she stepped on deck. He hurried to her, looking her over closely to see how she had stood the excitement and terrors of the day before.

“Do you think I shall ever be able to qualify as a naval man’s wife?” Belle asked, laughing.

“You won’t have to qualify,” Dave assured her. “You’ve already passed all the necessary tests.”

“There were times yesterday when I was dreadfully afraid,” shuddered Belle.

“Then you have mastered the necessary secret of how to conceal your fears,” Darrin assured her. “There was many a time yesterday when I, too, was badly scared.”

“You?” cried Belle, gazing at her husband, in astonishment.

“Yes,” smiled Dave. “Did I betray myself?”

“You are jesting,” Belle declared. “I saw you often, in the worst of the fighting and your courage and endurance were magnificent. Not once did you show any sign of faltering.”