Adrift in Pacific and Other Great Adventures – 17 Titles in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). Jules Verne
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has not read the advertisement concerning him,” answered Craig.
“And will still keep to the terms of the agreement,” added Fry.
“But where can he be?” cried Kin-Fo.
“Sir,” said Fry-Craig, “do you think you are in greater danger during the last days of the agreement?”
“Most certainly I do,” answered Kin-Fo. “Wang does not know the change in my circumstances, and it seems probable he will not be able to free himself from the necessity of keeping his promise. Therefore, in two or three days, I shall be in greater danger than I am to-day, and in six greater still.”
“But when the time has passed?”
“I shall have nothing more to fear.”
“Well, sir,” answered Craig-Fry, “there are only three ways of ridding yourself of all danger during these six days.”
“What is the first?” asked Kin-Fo.
“It is to return to the hotel,” said Craig, “to shut yourself up in your room, and wait till the time has expired.”
“And the second?”
“Is to have yourself arrested as a criminal,” answered Fry, “in order to be placed in safety in the prison of Tong-Tcheou.”
“And the third?”
“Is to pass yourself off for dead,” answered Fry-Craig, “and only to come to life again when safety is yours once more.”
“You do not know Wang,” cried Kin-Fo. “Wang would find his way into my hotel, my prison, or my tomb. If he has not killed me so far, it is because he has not wished to do so, or it was because it seemed to him preferable to leave me the pleasure or the anxiety of waiting. Who knows what can have been his motive? Under all circumstances, I prefer to wait in liberty.”
“We will wait then. Yet”—said Craig.
“It seems to me that”—added Fry.
“Gentlemen,” interrupted Kin-Fo, in a curt tone, “I will do what pleases me. After all, if I die before the 25th of this month, what will your company lose?”
“Two hundred thousand dollars,” answered Fry-Craig. “Two hundred thousand dollars, which we shall have to pay to your heirs.”
“And I lose all my fortune, without counting my life. I am, then, more interested than you in the matter.”
“To be sure.”
“Very true.”
“Continue, then, to watch over me as long as you think proper; but I shall act after my own inclination.”
There was nothing to be said in reply.
Craig-Fry were then obliged to give him more liberty, and to double their precautions. But they did not conceal from themselves that the gravity of the situation grew more decided every day.
Tong-Tcheou is one of the most ancient cities in the Celestial Empire. Situated on the canal arm of the Pei-ho, at the junction of another canal which unites it with Pekin, it is the centre of great business activity, while its suburbs are extremely lively from the going and coming of its inhabitants.
Kin-Fo and his companions were more strongly impressed by this stir when they reached the wharf, where sampans and the junks of commerce are anchored.
Finally Craig and Fry, after having weighed every thing, came to the conclusion that they were safer in the midst of a crowd. The death of their patron would apparently be owing to suicide: the letter which would be found on him would leave no doubt on that score. Wang, therefore, would have no interest in striking him, except under certain conditions, which did not present themselves in frequented streets or in the public place of a city. Consequently, Kin-Fo’s guardians did not fear an immediate attack. The only thing now was to ascertain if the Tai-ping, through marvellous skill, had not been following in their track since they left Shanghai, so they made good use of their eyes in scanning the faces of the passers-by.
Suddenly a name was spoken which made them listen intently.
“Kin-Fo! Kin-Fo!” cried several Chinese children from among the crowd, jumping up and down, and clapping their hands.
Had Kin-Fo been recognized? and did his name produce the usual effect?
The unwilling hero stopped.
Craig-Fry stood ready, in case of need, to make a rampart of their bodies around him.
These cries were not addressed to Kin-Fo; for no one seemed to suspect that he was there: therefore he did not stir, but waited to find out why his name had been spoken.
A group of men, women, and children had formed around a strolling singer, who seemed greatly in favor with the street public, who shouted, clapped their hands, and applauded him in advance.
When the singer found himself in the presence of a sufficiently large audience, he drew from his robe a package of placards, with colored illustrations, then shouted in a sonorous voice,—
“The Five Periods in the Life of the Centenarian.”
It was the famous lament heard everywhere in the Celestial Empire.
Craig-Fry wished to drag their charge away; but this time Kin-Fo obstinately persisted in remaining. No one knew him. He had never heard the lament which told his ways and doings, and he desired to hear it.
The singer began thus:—
“In the first period the moon shines on the pointed roof of the house at Shanghai. Kin-Fo is young,—he is twenty,—and resembles the willow whose first leaves show their little green tongue.
“In the second period the moon shines on the east side of the costly yamen. Kin-Fo is forty. His ten thousand business-affairs are successful, according to his wishes. The neighbors sing his praises.”
The singer’s expression changed, and he seemed to grow old, at every verse. They loaded him with applause.
He continued,—
“In the third period the moon lights the open space, Kin-Fo is sixty. After the green leaves of summer come the yellow chrysanthemums of autumn.
“In the fourth period the moon has declined to the west. Kin-Fo is eighty. His body is drawn up like a crab in boiling water. His life is waning,—waning with the star of night.
“In the fifth the cocks hail the birth of dawn. Kin-Fo is a hundred. He is dying, his strongest desire accomplished; but the disdainful Prince Ien refuses to receive him. Prince Ien does not like old people who would go into second childhood in his court. The old Kin-Fo will wander through all eternity without ever being able to rest.”
And the crowd applauded, and the singer sold his laments by the hundred, at three sapeques a copy.
And why should not Kin-Fo buy one? He drew out some small change from his pocket, and, extending his arm through the first rows of the crowd, held out a handful; but all at once his hand opened, and the money fell to the ground.
Opposite him stood a man whose gaze met his.
“Ah!” cried Kin-Fo, who could not restrain this exclamation, which was both interrogative and exclamatory.
Fry-Craig surrounded him, thinking him recognized, menaced, shot at, dead perhaps.
“Wang!” he cried.
“Wang!” repeated Craig-Fry.
It was Wang in person. He had just perceived his former pupil; but, instead of rushing at him, he pushed vigorously through the last rows of the crowd, and ran off as fast as his long legs would carry him.
Kin-Fo did not hesitate. He wished to understand his intolerable situation, and set out in pursuit of Wang, escorted by Fry-Craig, who wished neither to go ahead nor to remain behind.
They,