The Red Rat's Daughter

"I dink dat mein old comrade, Herr Sauber, must have been drunken mit too much schnapps when he talk mit you. What should Johann Schmidt have to do mit Russian bolitical brisoners? His piziness is mit de curios of China, mit silk, rice, ginger, but not mit de tings you do speak to him about."

"Then I am to understand that you can do nothing to help me?" said Browne, rising from his chair as if to take leave.

"For mineself it is not possible," returned the other, with great deliberation. "But since you are a frien of mein old comrade Sauber, den I tink over tings and gause inquiries to be made. Dis a very strange work is, and dere are many men in it. I do not tell you dat it gannot be done, but it will be difficult. Perhaps dere may be a man to be found who will gommunicate mit your friend."

The meaning of this speech was perfectly clear to him. In plain English, it, of course, meant that, while Herr Schmidt was not going to commit himself, he would find some one else who would.

"I should be under a life-long obligation if you would do so," answered Browne. "And what is more, I may as well say now I am not afraid to pay handsomely for the service rendered."

This time there was a twinkle to be seen in the German's eye. "I know noddings at all about what you speak; you will remember dot," continued he. "But I will do de best I can. If you write me now on a paper de name of your frien, and de place where he is – what shall we say? – now staying, I will let you know what de price would be, and when der work can be done. It will be – how you call it? – a ready-money transaction."

"I desire it to be so," replied Browne a little shortly.

There was silence between them for a few moments. Then Schmidt inquired where Browne's yacht was anchored. Browne informed him; and as he did so, it struck him that this was a rather curious remark upon his companion's part, if, as he had led him to believe at the beginning of the interview, he knew nothing whatever about his coming to Hong-kong. However, he did not comment upon it.

"Dat is goot, den," said Schmidt. "If I find a man who will run de risk, den I will gommunicate mit you before den o'clock to-night."

Browne thanked him; and, feeling that they had reached the end of the interview, bade him good-bye and passed through the shop out into the street once more. His coolie was still seated on the shafts of his rickshá; and, when Browne had mounted, they returned at a smart trot, by the way they had come, to the Club. Here he found his friends awaiting him. They had done the sights of the city, and were now eager to get back to the yacht once more.

CHAPTER XXII

"Did you find your friend Schmidt?" inquired their host of Browne as he seated himself in a chair and lit a cigar.

"Yes," the latter answered, "I found him, and a curious character he is. He has some wonderful curios in his shop, and I could have spent a day there overhauling them."

"I should be very careful, if I were you, what sort of dealings you have with him," said the other, with what struck Browne as a peculiar meaning. "He does not bear any too good a reputation in these parts. I have heard some funny stories about him at one time and another."

"Oh, you need not be afraid on my account," replied Browne. "As I told you in your office, my dealings with him are of a purely commercial character, and I don't think he has robbed me of very much so far. Now, what would you say if we were to make our way to the yacht?"

They accordingly adjourned to the boat. Perhaps, as the result of his interview that afternoon, Browne was in the highest of spirits. He did the honours of his table royally, and the new-comer, ever since that day, has been wont to declare that it was the jolliest dinner of which he has ever partaken in his life. How little he guessed the tragedy that was overhanging it all! Of the quartette, Maas was the only one in any way silent. For some reason or another he seemed strangely preoccupied. It was not until some months later that Browne heard from Jimmy Foote that that afternoon, during their perambulations of the city, he had excused himself, and having discovered the direction of the telegraph station, had left them for upwards of three-quarters of an hour.

"I am not quite myself to-night," he remarked, in reply to a remark from Browne. "But I have no doubt I shall be all right again to-morrow."

Dinner being at an end, they adjourned to the deck, where they settled down to coffee and cigars. The myriad lights of the city ashore flashed out, and were reflected like countless diamonds in the still waters of the bay. Browne was irresistibly reminded of another harbour-scene. At another momentous epoch of his life, he had sat on this self-same deck, and looked across the water at the lights ashore. And what a different man he had been then to the man he was now! So much had happened that it seemed scarcely possible it could be the same.

Their friend of the afternoon proved a most interesting companion. He had spent the greater portion of his life in the Farthest East, and was full of anecdotes of strange men he had met, and still stranger things he had seen. They reclined in their deck-chairs and smoked until close upon ten o'clock. Then the new-comer thought it was time for him to see about getting ashore. He accordingly rose from his chair, and was commencing the usual preparatory speeches, when a hail from alongside reached their ears. A quartermaster went to the bulwark and inquired who was calling, and what he wanted. A voice answered him in educated English: —

"Can you tell me if this is the Lotus Blossom?" it said.

"Yes," answered the quartermaster. "What do you want?"

"I want to see Mr. Browne, if he is aboard," the other answered.

"He is aboard," returned the quartermaster. "But I don't know whether he can see you. I will inquire."

"Who is he?" asked Browne. "Tell him to give you his name."

The quartermaster hailed the sampan again. "He says his name is MacAndrew, sir," he replied after a short pause, "and if you will see him, he says he will not detain you many minutes."

"Let him come aboard, then," said Browne. "Just tell him to look sharp." Then, turning to his guests, he continued, "I wonder who the fellow is, and what he wants with me at this hour of the night." In his own heart he thought he knew pretty well.

"By the way," remarked his guest, "I should advise you to keep your eyes open while you are in this port. You can have no idea what queer sort of people you will have to do with; but when I tell you that it is the favourite meeting-place for half the villains of the East, you will have some very good notion."

"Thanks for the warning," returned Browne. "I'll bear it in mind."

He had scarcely finished speaking, before the figure of a man appeared at the top of the gangway and came towards them. He was tall and slimly built, was dressed entirely in white, and wore a helmet of the same colour upon his head. From an indescribable something about him – it may possibly have been his graceful carriage or the drawl in his voice when he spoke – he might very well have passed for a gentleman.

"Mr. Browne?" he began, lifting his hat, and, as he did so, looking from one to another of the group.

"My name is Browne," said the young man, stepping forward. "What can I do for you?"

"I should be glad if you would favour me with a few minutes' private conversation," answered the other. "My business is important, but it will not detain you very long."

"I can easily do that," replied Browne, and as he said it his guest of the evening came forward to bid him good-bye.

"Must you really go?" Browne inquired.

"I am afraid I must," the other responded; "the boat has been alongside for some considerable time, and to-morrow the homeward mail goes out, and I have my letters to finish. I must thank you for a very jolly evening. My only regret is that you are not staying longer in Hong-kong. However, I hope we shall see you on the return voyage, when you must let us entertain you, in a somewhat better fashion, than we have been able to do to-day."

"I shall be delighted," said Browne as he shook hands; but in his own heart he was reflecting that, when he did return that way, there would, in all probability, be some one with him, who would exercise such control over his time and amusements, that bachelor pleasures would be out of the question. The man having taken his departure, Browne begged his friends to excuse him for a few moments, and then passed down the deck towards the tall individual, whom he could see waiting for him at the saloon entrance. "Now, sir," he began, "if you wish to see me, I am at your disposal."

"In that case, let us walk a little farther aft," replied the tall man. "Let us find a place where we shall run no risks of being disturbed."

"This way, then," said Browne, and led him along the deck towards the taffrail. He climbed up on to the rail, while his companion seated himself on the stern grating. The light from the after-skylight fell upon his face, and Browne saw that it was a countenance cast in a singularly handsome mould. The features were sharp and clear cut, the forehead broad, and the mouth and chin showing signs of considerable determination. Taken altogether, it was the face of a man who, having embarked upon a certain enterprise, would carry it through, or perish in the attempt. Having lit a cigarette and thrown the match overboard, he began to speak.

"It has been brought to my knowledge," he began, "that you are anxious to carry out a certain delicate piece of business connected with an island, a short distance to the north of Japan. Is that so?"

"Before you go any farther," continued Browne, "perhaps it would be as well for you to say whether or not you come from Johann Schmidt."

"Johann Schmidt!" replied the other, with some little astonishment. "Who the devil is he? I don't know that I ever heard of him."

It was Browne's turn this time to feel surprised. "I asked because I understood that he was going to send some one to me this evening."

"That is very possible," MacAndrew answered; "but let me make it clear to you that I know nothing whatsoever of him; in matters like this, Mr. Browne, you will find it best to know nothing of anybody."

After this plain speech, Browne thought he had grasped the situation. "We will presume, then, that you know nothing of our friend Johann," he said. "Perhaps you have a plan worked out, and can tell me exactly what I ought to do to effect the object I have in view."

"It is for that reason that I am here," resumed MacAndrew, with business-like celerity, as he flicked the ash from his cigarette. "I've got the plan fixed up, and I think I can tell you exactly how the matter in question is going to be arranged. To begin with, I may as well inform you that it is going to be an expensive business."

"Expense is no difficulty to me," replied Browne. "I am, of course, quite prepared to pay a large sum, provided it is in reason, and I am assured in my own mind, that the work will be carried out in a proper manner. How much do you think it will cost me?"

"Five thousand pounds in good, solid English gold," answered MacAndrew; "and what is more, the money must be paid down before I put my hand to the job."

"But, pardon my alluding to it, what sort of a check am I going to have upon you?" Browne next inquired. "How am I to know that you won't take the money and clear out?"

"You've got to risk that," said MacAndrew calmly. "I see no other way out of it. You must trust me absolutely; if you don't think you can, say so, and I'll have nothing whatever to do with it. I won't make you any promises, because that's not my way; but I fancy when the business is finished you'll be satisfied."

"I hope so," returned Browne, with a smile. "But can you give me no sort of guarantee at all?"