Blue Jackets - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel Blue Jackets Part 7 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
"I'll try," I said.
"Keep velly close," whispered Ching. "No takee notice. No talkee closs. Ching speakee."
He said something in Chinese to the men, and led us in single file between the two most fierce-looking, our prompt action taking them somewhat by surprise, and, as we gave them no excuse for taking offence, they only turned to gaze after us.
There were plenty of people in the street ready to stand and look at us, and we met with no interruption from them, but I could not help seeing the anxiety in Ching's face, and how from time to time he wiped his streaming brow. But as soon as he saw either of us looking at him he smiled as if there was nothing the matter whatever.
"No velly long now," he said. "Lot bad men to-day. You come walkee walkee 'gain?"
"It's not very tempting, Ching," I said. "Why can't they leave us alone?"
He tightened his lips and shook his head. Then, looking sharply before him, he hurried us along a little more.
"Wish got ten--twenty--piecee soldier man 'longside," he whispered to me, and the next minute he grasped my arm with a spasmodic s.n.a.t.c.h.
"What's the matter?" I said.
He did not speak, but looked sharply to right and left for a means of escape. For, in spite of the cleverness of our guide, the mandarin's men had been as cunning. They had either divined or been told that we had made for the other street, and had contrived to reach the connecting lane along which we should have to pa.s.s. Here they had planted themselves, and just as we were breathing more freely, in the belief that before long we should reach the sh.o.r.e of the great river, we caught sight of them in company with about a dozen more.
We were all on the point of halting, as we saw them about fifty yards in front, but Ching spoke out sharply--
"No stoppee," he said firmly. "Lun away, all come catchee and choppee off head. Go 'long stlaight and flighten 'em. Englis' sailor foleign debil, 'flaid o' n.o.body."
"There's something in that," said Barkins. "Right. Show a bold front, lads. Let's go straight by them, and if they attack, then out with your swords and let's make a fight for it."
I heard Smith say, "All right," and my heart was beating very fast as I said the same.
Frightened? Of course I was. I don't believe the boy ever lived who would not feel frightened at having to face death. For it was death we had to face then, and in the ugliest shape. But Smith's words sent a thrill through us.
"I say, lads," he said, "we've got to fight this time. If we begged for our lives they'd only serve us worse; so let 'em have it, and recollect that, if they kill us, the old _Teasers'll_ come and burn their town about their ears."
"'Fraid, Ching?" I whispered; for he and I were in front.
"No 'flaid now," he whispered back. "Plenty flighten by and by."
He smiled as he spoke, and led us straight on to where the four mandarin's men and the rough-looking fellows with them blocked the road, and if for a moment we had shown any hesitation, I believe they would have rushed at us like wolves. But Ching kept his head up as if proud of acting as guide to three British officers, and when we got close up he nodded smilingly at the men in the mandarin's colours, and then, as if astounded at the little crowd standing fast, he burst out into a furious pa.s.sion, shouting at them in a wild gabble of words, with the effect of making them give way at once, so that we pa.s.sed through.
Then I heard him draw a panting breath, and saw that he was ghastly.
"Walkee walkee," he whispered. "Not velly fast. 'Top I say lun, and lun fast alleegether."
At that moment there was a loud shouting behind, then a yell, and, turning my head, I saw that the mandarin's men had their great blades out, and were leading the men after us, shouting to excite themselves and the little mob.
"Now lun!" cried Ching. "I showee way."
"No!" shouted Barkins. "Draw swords and retreat slowly."
We whipped out our weapons and turned to face the enemy, knowing full well that they would sweep over us at the first rush, while a feeling of rage ran through me, as in my despairing fit I determined to make the big fellow opposite to me feel one dig of English steel before he cut me down.
Then they were upon us with a rush, and I saw Ching dart in front and cleverly s.n.a.t.c.h one of the clumsy swords from the nearest man. The next moment he had whirled it up with both hands, when--
_Boom_--_Crash_!
There was the report of a heavy gun, whose concussion made the wooden houses on each side jar and quiver as it literally ran up the narrow street, and, to our astonishment, we saw the little mob turn on the instant and begin to run, showing us, instead of their fierce savage faces, so many black pigtails; the mandarin's men, though, last.
"Hooray!" we yelled after them, and they ran the faster.
"Now, velly quick," panted Ching. "Come back again soon."
We uttered another shout, and hurried along the lane to the princ.i.p.al street, turned at right angles, and began to hurry along pretty rapidly now, Ching marching beside us with the big sword over his shoulder.
But the scare was only temporary, the tremendous report was not repeated, and before a minute had elapsed, our guide, who kept glancing back, cried--
"Now, lun velly fast. Come along catchee catchee, and no big gun go shoot this time."
He was quite right, and we took to our heels, with the yelling mob close at hand, and so many people in front, that we felt certain of being run down long before we could reach the waterside.
"And no chance for us when we do," muttered Barkins from close behind me. "Oh, if a couple of dozen of our lads were only here! Why didn't they send 'em?" he panted, "instead of firing as a signal for us to go back on board."
CHAPTER THREE.
CUTTING IT CLOSE.
My messmate uttered these words close to my ears in a despairing tone as we dashed on, and now I saw Ching strike to his right, while I made a cut or two at my left, as men started from the sides and tried to trip us up.
I was growing faint with the heat down in that narrow, breathless street, my clothes stuck to me, and Barkins' heavy telescope banged heavily against my side, making me feel ready to unfasten the strap and let it fall. But I kept on for another fifty yards or so with our enemies yelling in the rear, and the waterside seeming to grow no nearer.
"Keep together, lads," cried Barkins excitedly. "It can't be far now.
We'll seize the first boat we come to, and the tide will soon take us out of their reach."
But these words came in a broken, spasmodic way, for, poor fellow, he was as out of breath as any of us.
"Hoolay! Velly lit' way now," cried Ching; and then he finished with a howl of rage, for half-a-dozen armed men suddenly appeared from a gateway below us, and we saw at a glance that they were about to take sides with the rest.
"Lun--lun," yelled Ching, and, flouris.h.i.+ng his sword, he led us right at the newcomers, who, startled and astounded by our apparent boldness, gave way, and we panted on, utterly exhausted, for another fifty yards, till Ching suddenly stopped in an angle of the street formed by a projecting house.
"No lun. No, no!" he panted. "Fight--kill."
Following his example, we faced round, and our bold front checked the miserable gang of wretches, who stopped short a dozen yards from us, their numbers swelled by the new party, and waited yelling and howling behind the swordsmen, who stood drawing up their sleeves, and brandis.h.i.+ng their heavy weapons, working themselves up for the final rush, in which I knew we should be hacked to pieces.
"Good-bye, old chap," whispered Barkins in a piteous tone, his voice coming in sobs of exhaustion. "Give point when they come on: don't strike. Try and kill one of the cowardly beggars before they finish us."
"Yes," I gasped.
"Chuck that spygla.s.s down," cried Smith; "it's in your way."
Gladly enough I swung the great telescope round, slipped the strap over my head, and as I did so I saw a sudden movement in the crowd.