Brown of Moukden: A Story of the Russo-Japanese War Page 4

  *CHAPTER III*

  *Deported*

  Mesalliance--An Outing--Bonbons--"Mr. Blown"--A NorthernFrontier--Bandit and Patriot--Hi Lo--Arrested--Monsieur Brin offersCondolences--Old Scores--General Bekovitch--Short Notice--The Generalloses Patience

  "Ah! I disturb you, Mr. Brown. I always disturb somebody. I disturbmyself! Therefore I go; another time, another time."

  "Not a bit of it, Monsieur. Sit down; I shall be through with thesepapers in five minutes. What will you drink? We have a fairselection."

  "Lemonade, my dear Mr. Brown, nothing but lemonade. It is the cooldrink."

  "Hi Lo, wailo fetchee lemonade for Monsieur."

  "Allo lightee, sah," said a little fellow of some thirteen years,bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked, a smiling Chinese boy.

  Monsieur Anatole Brin, correspondent of the _Soleil_, sat down in a canechair and wiped his perspiring bald pate with a yellow silkhandkerchief. Mr. Brown continued to sort his papers. It was notpossible for Monsieur Brin to sit speechless.

  "Ah! Mr. Brown, you have things to do. You do not suffer, as weothers, from nostalgia--the home-sickness, you understand? I sigh forParis, for the boulevards, the cafes, the Opera, for anything, anything,but this Moukden. It is five weeks that I am here; I have my paper, mypencils, my authorization; I have presented to the Viceroy my letter ofcredit, my photograph, as it is ordained. I have the red band on myarm; you see it: the letters B.K., correspondent of war; also Chinesearabesques, one says they mean 'Him who spies out the military things!'and here I am still in Moukden. I spy out no military things; I broilmyself with sun, choke myself with dust; it is not possible to go to thesouth, where the war is made; no, it is permitted to do anything butwhat I am sent for; I become meagre with disappointment."

  "Cheer up! Yours is a hard lot, no doubt. The modern general has noliking for you correspondents. But you will get your chance, no doubt,in time. The Japanese are coming north. There has been a fight atWa-fang-ho, I hear."

  "What!" cried the Frenchman, starting up. "A battle and I not there! Ihear of no battle. Colonel Pestitch hear of none. I ask him just now.Does he tell me lie--prevaricate?"

  "He probably knows nothing about it. I knew it through a Chinamanyesterday. The natives outdo the telegraph, Monsieur, especially thetelegraph with a censor at one end. But, in fact, I have more than onceheard the result of an engagement before even the military authorities."

  Monsieur Brin walked up and down the little office impatiently twistinghis moustache.

  "Ah! It is abominable--but yes, abominable. Of what good that Franceis the ally of Russia? I might be Japanese, or Englishman, with noalliance at all. Why did I quit Paris? To put on this odious redbadge, like a convict. For what? To promenade myself about Moukden,from day to day, from week to week, in prey to hundred Chinese diseases,subject to thousand Chinese odours! Ah, quelle malaise, queldesappointement, quel spleen!"

  "You're in low spirits to-day, Monsieur. Why don't you go about thecountry and see the sights?"

  "The sights! I have seen them. I have seen the tombs. They do notequal the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame. Pouah! My throatfills itself with dust, or my feet stick fast in the mud. For the rest,if I go farther I fall into the hands of the Koungouzes, the brigands;they have asperity; I have respect for my skin."

  "Look here, Monsieur, this won't do. You'll make yourself ill if youtake things so hardly. What do you say to this, now? My boy is goingsome fifteen miles out to a farm, to see some friends of ours--Chinese,you understand. Why not go with him and see something of the Chinese athome? Our friend Mr. Wang has an interesting family; you'll enjoy it,and get material for one article at least for the _Soleil_."

  "Ah! it is an idea. We go--how?"

  "On ponies. They will put you up for the night. You can return in thecool to-morrow morning."

  "It is an idea. It please me. There is no risk?"

  "None, I should think. You can take a revolver, but Jack is pretty wellknown. Hi Lo, tell Mr. Jack I want him."

  In a few seconds Jack entered. He shook hands cordially with MonsieurBrin, whom he had seen once or twice since his arrival with a letter ofintroduction to Mr. Brown.

  "Jack, Monsieur Brin is making himself ill for want of something to do.Take him with you and introduce him to Wang Shih's people. I thinkhe'll like them."

  "I'll be glad, I'm sure. Will you come, Monsieur?"

  "With pleasure, to pass the time."

  "I am starting immediately. Hi Lo, saddle a pony for Monsieur, quick."

  The little fellow, son of Mr. Brown's compradore, ran off, and returnedin five minutes.

  "Pony allo lightee, sah."

  "Good boy! Now, Monsieur, shall we start?"

  "Hope you'll have a pleasant day, Monsieur," said Mr. Brown. "Look meup in the morning, and tell me how you got on."

  "Good-bye! Thanks! I have not disturb you--busy man like you?"

  "Not a bit. Good-bye!"

  Mounted on neat little ponies, Monsieur Brin and Jack set off throughthe city. To the Frenchman's surprise, Jack did not choose the mainthoroughfare direct to one of the eastern gates, but turned first intoone side street, then into another. They were dusty, dirty, crowdedwith people, pigs, and poultry, and Monsieur Brin held his nose andbegan to expostulate.

  "Wait a little, Monsieur," said Jack. "We are coming to my street. Inever miss it when I come in this direction."

  They came by and by to a street differing in no wise from the rest,except that in one of the paper-windowed houses a school was held. Nosooner had Jack appeared at the end of the street than the sing-song ofchildren at lessons ceased as by magic, and out of the school flocked ascore of little ones, who rushed towards him with loud and happy criesof greeting, scattering the fowls and pigs and kicking up clouds of dustas they ran.

  "Mon Dieu!" exclaimed Monsieur Brin, reining up his pony to avoidtrampling them.

  "Don't be alarmed," said Jack, laughing. "They are my littlepensioners."

  The biggest of the children were already swarming round the pony. Jackput his hand into his pocket. Instantly there was a yell of delight.Then suddenly a shower of sweetmeats fell on the outskirts of the crowd,among the smallest of the children. There was a merry scramble; beforethe first handful was picked up a second was scattered in the oppositedirection, and soon every child was on all-fours, hunting for treasurein the thick brown dust. Meanwhile every door in the street had becomeblocked with smiling elders,--toothless old grandames, brawny workmen,women, girls, all enjoying the scene, chattering among themselves, someof them giving pleasant salutation to Jack. His pockets at last wereempty; his pony was becoming impatient; and, laughingly threatening torun the youngsters down, he moved on amid high-pitched cries of "Comeagain soon, Mr. Blown!"

  Monsieur Brin was vastly entertained. The children's antics were verydroll, and Monsieur was a man of sentiment.

  "My word!" he said. "Here is something at last for the readers of the_Soleil_. I have no victories of war to write; I write of a victory ofpeace; how a young Englishman has won the hearts of all a street ofChinese; how to them he is no longer foreign devil but sweet-stuffsaint. Eh? How became you so great a friend?"

  "Oh, it is very simple. I took a fancy one day to a little toddler;picked him up out of the way of a boisterous pig, and gave him a sweetto comfort him. Other children were looking on; next time I came thisway a group of them stood with their fingers in their mouths and theireyes on my pockets. I flung them a sweet or two; they picked them upand scampered away as though half-scared; but they were on the watch forme after that, and now, as you see, it has become an institution. Theyhave very easy-going schoolmasters here; as soon as my nose is seen atthe street end the word is given and out they troop, and the elders knowthe sounds and come to see the fun. They are all very good friends ofmine."

  Leaving the narrow streets, they came at length to th
e outer gate,guarded jointly by several sleepy Chinese soldiers and a Russian sentry.Jack was well known, and the two riders passed through withoutdifficulty.

  Having a little business to settle with Mr. Wang senior, Jack hadoffered, before Wang Shih left Mr. Brown's house in the small hours ofthat morning, to ride out and inform the family of his escape. A rideof some fifteen miles brought the two within sight of the farm. It wasa brick building of one story, like all Manchurian houses, withcow-byres, pig-sties, and poultry-houses clinging to the wall. Thefarmstead was surrounded by lofty wooden palings, and Monsieur Brin'sattention was attracted by two fantastic warlike figures roughly daubedin red and green on either side of the great gate.

  "Oh!" said Jack, in reply to his question, "they're supposed to scareaway evil spirits."

  "He! Are not the dogs enough?"

  The appearance of the two strangers was hailed by a rush of dogs, largeand small, yelping and barking fiercely, but without malice. The noisebrought the inmates to the door: an old Chinaman and his wife, and twogirls of eighteen or thereabouts, whose regular features, soft browneyes, and delicately ruddy complexion made an instant impression uponthe Frenchman. He doffed his hat with the most elegant and gracefulease, and was not disconcerted when this unaccustomed mode of salutationset the girls giggling. The mistress led the visitors into the bestroom, lofty, airy, clean, with paper windows; along one side a broadplatform some thirty inches from the floor. This was the k'ang, ahollow structure containing a flue warmed by the smoke and hot air fromthe kitchen-fire; it served as a table by day and a bed by night. Alittle graven image occupied a tinselled niche; and, the kitchen-firenot being required in hot weather, a kettle stood on a small brazier,boiling water for the indispensable tea.

  The old people were greatly distressed at the disgrace that had befallentheir only son; still more at his approaching fate, for to die without amale child to honour one's ashes is the worst of ills to a Chinaman.They were not aware of his escape; but when Jack told them that he wasnow at large, and had gone to join the great Chunchuse chief Ah Lum,they all, parents and girls, clapped their hands, feeling now secureagainst ill-treatment by the Chinese officials. The chief would sendword from his head-quarters to his agent in Moukden that Wang Shih wasunder his protection, and the terror in which the brigand was held wasso great that the farmer's family would remain unmolested.

  Jack asked where was the encampment of the Chunchuse band. It varied,said the old man. To avoid capture by the Russians, the chieffrequently shifted his quarters. His band was constantly on the movebetween Kirin and the Shan-yan-alin mountains, going so swiftly andsecretly that no one knew where it would turn up next. One day it wouldbe on the Hun-ho; a detachment of Cossacks would be sent to cut it off,only to find that it had disappeared. Two or three days later it mightbe heard of several hundred li away, on the Sungari.

  "Yes," said the old man. "Ah Lum is a great leader, and a great haterof the Russians; but he hates the Japanese nearly as much. He woulddrive all foreigners out of the country. I am glad my son is with him,though I fear he will not be able to return home until the war is over."

  Jack and Monsieur Brin spent some time in rambling about the farm, thelatter smoking innumerable cigarettes, making copious notes, and everynow and then breaking forth into enthusiastic praise of the eldestdaughter, who he declared reminded him of his fiancee in the boulevardRaspail. He watched with absorbed interest the Chinese way of makingtea: the green leaves placed in a broad saucer and covered with boilingwater; another saucer inverted over the first, and pushed back a littleway after the tea had "drawn", the beverage being sipped through theinterstice. The old farmer insisted on his guests going to see hiscoffin, a very handsome box thoughtfully provided by his son and kept inan outhouse, where Mr. Wang frequently spent an hour in meditation onmortality. Afterwards Brin was initiated into the complexities offan-tan--a guessing game that was prolonged far into the night. Theyslept comfortably on the k'ang, and left about eight next morning verywell pleased with their visit.

  The sun was already hot, and they rode at a walking pace, partly toavoid the clouds of choking dust which trotting would have raised. Theywere still several miles from the city when Jack saw a small Chinese boyhastening in their direction.

  "That's young Hi Lo," he said, as the figure came more clearly intoview. "I wonder what he is coming this way for! Surely Wang Shih hasnot been caught after all?"

  The boy had broken into a run, and when he met them Jack saw at once byhis face that he bore grave news. But he was not prepared for what thelittle fellow told him in breathless gasps. Soon after daybreak a squadof Siberian infantry had appeared at Mr. Brown's house, put the merchantunder arrest, ransacked his papers, and carried him off a prisoner. HiLo's father, the compradore, happened to be at a window of the frontroom as the soldiers came up; and suspecting, with Chinese shrewdnessand dislike of the soldiers, that something was amiss, he had run to theinner sanctum and removed the most valuable papers from the safe beforethe Russians entered. But knowing that he was likely to be searched, hehad handed the papers to Hi Lo, hoping that the boy would escape thevisitors' attentions. Mr. Brown made a vigorous protest against theRussians' action, and demanded by what authority they arrested him andthe crime with which he was charged; but the officer in command refusedto give him any information. Before he was marched off, he was alloweda few words with his compradore, a servant of many years' standing.Learning that the papers were for the present secure, he had managed,without making his meaning clear to the Russian officer, to direct thatthey should be handed to Jack. They were for the most part vouchers fromthe Russian authorities for goods supplied; if not concealed, they wouldcertainly be seized, and Mr. Brown knew how impossible it was to make aRussian official disgorge plunder. The whole thing was probably amistake, at the worst a plot which could no doubt be shown up. Thefirst necessity was to put the securities out of harm's way; then Jackcould take whatever steps might be called for to obtain his father'srelease, if he were still detained after he had met the charge againsthim.

  The boy told his story rapidly in pidgin English; not that Jack did notunderstand Chinese, but because, like all Chinese servants, Hi Lo madeit a point of pride to use his master's language. Monsieur Brin couldmake nothing of the narrative.

  "What is the matter with you, my friend?" he asked, seeing the look ofconcern on Jack's face.

  "An annoying mistake, Monsieur. My father has been arrested by theRussians."

  "Oho! What has he been doing?"

  "Nothing, of course. Some official has been too zealous, I suppose. Imust ride on, Monsieur."

  "But may not you be arrested, too?"

  "I don't think so. If they intended it, they would already have sent adetachment after me. You may be sure their spies know very well where Ihave been. No, I'm in no danger; but anyhow I must find out what it allmeans, so if you don't mind, Monsieur, we'll hurry on and chance thedust."

  "Certainly, my friend. My word! this is an unfortunate end to ourpleasant little picnic."

  "You have the papers, Hi Lo?"

  The boy produced them from some pouch in his wadded cotton garments.Jack looked them over. They represented a considerable sum of money.He did not care to have them about him, in case he should be searched.What could he do with them? For a moment he thought of giving them intothe care of Monsieur Brin, but on reflection he hesitated to involve thecorrespondent in his difficulties. Hi Lo was a clever little fellow,devoted to him; probably he would be the best custodian for the present.He gave the papers back to the boy.

  "Keep them carefully, Hi Lo. Don't come near our house till I send foryou."

  Then he put his pony to a canter, and with Brin by his side hastened onto the city. At the moment, as Jack knew, there were few Russiansoldiers in Moukden. General Kuropatkin was at the front, somewheresouth of Liao-yang; Admiral Alexeieff was at Harbin. The arrest musthave been made in their absence, and probably unknown to them, by thelocal mili
tary authorities. But, knowing his father's innocence, Jackexpected to find that he had already been released.

  On entering the city he said good-bye to Monsieur Brin, who was full ofcondolence.

  "If I can do anything, tell me," he said. "Unhappily I cannottelegraph; the soldiers have monopoly of the wires; and, besides, thereis the terrible censor. But if I can do anything----"

  "Don't worry, Monsieur. It will be all right. My father is a Britishsubject; and though the Russians don't love us just now, they won't doanything very dreadful, I imagine. Many thanks! I will let you knowhow things stand."

  He rode straight home, and, finding that the house was shut and locked,sought the compradore at his cottage at the rear of the compound behind.Learning from him further details of the arrest, he at once set off forthe military head-quarters near the railway-station. He knew several ofthe Russian officers, but those to whom he spoke had heard nothing ofthe singular occurrence. One of them offered to make enquiries. Hereturned by and by with the information that the order for Mr. Brown'sarrest had been given by General Bekovitch. This was not cheering, forGeneral Bekovitch, as Jack knew, was an officer who under a surfacepolish and refinement was thoroughly unscrupulous, and one indeed whoseenmity Mr. Brown had incurred by his uncompromising attitude towards theofficial methods of corruption. Some time before this, when Bekovitchwas a colonel, he had transferred to the Pole, Sowinski, a contractwhich had been placed in Mr. Brown's hands. The latter protested, andBekovitch's superior disallowed his action and gave him metaphorically arap on the knuckles. The colonel was deeply chagrined, both at thereprimand and at the loss of the secret commission arranged withSowinski. He was now promoted major-general; his superior was gone; andJack could hardly doubt that he had seized the opportunity to pay offhis grudge against the English merchant. Jack shrank somewhat from ameeting with the general, but his indignation outweighed every otherfeeling, and, plucking up his courage, he made his way to the luxuriousrailway-carriage which served Bekovitch for quarters.

  He had to wait some time before he gained admittance to the general'spresence. When at last he was invited to enter, he found Bekovitchlolling on a divan smoking a cigarette, a champagne bottle at his elbow.He was a tall fair man, inclining to stoutness, with a long moustacheand carefully-trimmed beard, and looked in his white uniform a verydignified representative of the military bureaucracy.

  Jack's residence as a boy in Vladivostok had given him a good colloquialknowledge of Russian, so that he had no difficulty in addressing thegeneral in his own language.

  "I have recently heard, sir, of my father's arrest," he said, "and Ihave come to ask if you will be good enough to tell me where he is andwhat he is charged with."

  "You are Mr. Brown's son? How do you do?" said the general suavely. "Iam sorry for you. It is a bad business altogether. I should be quitejustified in refusing to give you information, but I am, of course,willing to stretch a point in a case like this--father and son, youknow. Well, I regret to say that I had to arrest your father for givingmilitary information to the Japanese."

  "But, sir, that is ridiculous. My father never did such a thing. Hehas had no connection, not even a business one, with the Japanese; hedoesn't like them. Besides, he would never think of doing anythingunderhand. No one who knows him could even imagine it."

  If Bekovitch felt the personal application, he did not show it.

  "Very creditable, very creditable indeed. A loyal son; excellent. Ishould be the last to undeceive you; therefore we will say no more aboutit. Let me offer you a cigarette."

  "No, thank you, sir. Really the matter cannot end thus. What evidencehave you against my father?"

  The general shrugged.

  "Well, if you will---- We had our suspicions; your father is anEnglishman, you know; we examined his papers and found proof of oursuspicions--full, conclusive. There is no doubt at all about it."

  "But you will allow my father to clear himself. I am sure he can doso."

  "We have no time for long-winded processes," replied the general,throwing away the end of his cigarette and lighting another. "Moukden,as you must be aware, young man, is under martial law."

  "Then what has become of my father, sir? Where is he?"

  "We might have shot him, you know." The general's manner was suaverthan ever. "But we are a merciful people. Your father has merelybeen--deported."

  At this Jack felt that either there was a hole in the net woven aroundhis father, or the Russians had feared to proceed to extremities owingto his British nationality.

  "Well, sir," he said, "I shall, of course, appeal to our government."

  "Certainly, my young friend, certainly! But on what ground? See, Irecognize your anxiety; it is perfectly natural; for that reason I ampatient with you. But we must be the judges as to who shall stay inManchuria, who shall leave. Your father is now on his way to--to thefrontier. You will follow without loss of time. I give you twelvehours to quit the city. A pass shall be made out for you; you will goby to-night's train to Harbin."

  General Bekovitch's manner was as urbane and polite as ever, but therewas in his tone a something that warned the boy that further protestwould be useless. Still, he must make one more effort to discover hisfather's whereabouts.

  "Has my father gone to Harbin?" he asked.

  "I have told you, my young friend, he has been deported. I can tell youno more."

  "But why not tell me his route, General Bekovitch? He was in any caseleaving for England in a few days. If I am to go to Harbin I should liketo know whether there is any possibility of overtaking my father andproceeding to Europe with him."

  For answer the general summoned an attendant.

  "Michel Sergeitch, show this young man out."

  Jack gave him one look, then turned in silence towards the door.

  "One moment," called the general after him. "As I said, a pass shall besent you. The train leaves at eight. If you are found here to-morrow,you will be arrested and escorted as a prisoner to the frontier. That,I may remark, is an unpleasant mode of travelling. Remember, eighto'clock."