"It's just cruel luck," said he, as though he were speaking to himself. "Guess I can't look upon it in any other light. Why did I leave Paradise City!"
"There's not much paradise about this," said Frank, taking in his hand a burnt stick and stirring the embers of the fire. A flame sprang forth that illumined the rugged walls of the cave. Here and there upon the hard rock were narrow, streaky grooves, where the moisture had trickled down.
"We're helpless," Mr Waldron burst out, "helpless as the little children these fiends used to throw from the top of that tower. That's what gets me on the raw, Judge. I never before felt helpless. In the course of my life, I have found myself in a great many awkward places; but I have always been able to see a way out and I have made good in the end. This thing's different. Hennessy K. Waldron may be a great man in the state of Nevada; but in this blamed country I guess he don't count more than a copper cash."
And Mr Hennessy K. Waldron was about right--a copper cash, in the coinage of China, having the approximate value of the fifth part of a farthing.
CHAPTER VIII--AND HOW FRANK RESOLVED TO FOLLOW IT
That same evening, Men-Ching, accompanied by another man, set forth upon his journey to the south. It was calculated that he could reach the river in five days, though to do so he would have to travel by night as well as day. The prisoners had little doubt that he would find a river-junk at Pinglo or at some other river-side village where the brigands had established outposts. With the help of the current and a favourable wind, he could reach Canton in a few days, and thence the last stage of the journey could be completed by steam-boat--ships leaving Canton for Hong-Kong at least twice a day.
There was, therefore, plenty of time--provided no mishap befell him--for Men-Ching to fulfil his mission. Cheong-Chau, who knew his business, had taken steps to convince the Governor that the plight of the judge was genuine. He had included in the envelope containing his own letter a gold signet ring, which he himself had taken from the finger of Sir Thomas.
When Men-Ching left the cave it was raining hard. He brought the two letters to the fireside, desiring in all probability to satisfy the prisoners that there was to be no mistake, that he was not going to take any risks. He took off his faded scarlet coat, ripped up the lining with a sharp knife, and sewed the letters inside. That done, he tied a sash around his waist, threw a straw raincoat across his shoulders, and put on a large straw hat such as the coolies wear when at work in the southern ricefields. Then he and his companion departed, Men-Ching carrying in his hand a long stick. They followed the narrow path that traversed that bare, desolate region, at one moment on the crest-line of a watershed, at another upon the very brink of a precipice.