Held by Chinese Brigands. Gilson Charles

don't they do it and have done with it, instead of stuffing us full of rice and rotten fish?"

      Sir Thomas shook his head.

      "There is every reason to suppose," he answered, "that this is a case of ransom. If this rascal had meant to murder us he would have done so before emptying our pockets of all the money, watches and valuables in our possession. You may be sure, Mr Waldron, he has brought us here for a purpose. That is not troubling me in the least."

      "It troubles me," said the American. "I left Paradise City with the idea of seeing the world; but I guess, Judge, this is one side of human experience that it was not my original intention to investigate. Wish I was back in Nevada."

      Frank Armitage laughed aloud. It was the first time he had done so since the calamity had befallen them. Sir Thomas sat cross-legged by the fire, stirring the embers with a stick, his brows set in a frown.

      "Even now," said he, in a quiet voice, "even now I can't realise that Yung How is the unmitigated villain he is."

      Frank bit his lip. "If I ever get the chance," said he, "I'll be even with that scoundrel."

      "He has been in my service," continued Sir Thomas, "for nearly seven years. During the whole of that period he has never once given me cause to suspect or to mistrust him. That shows you very clearly, Mr Waldron, what a subtle rascal a Chinaman can be. For seven years he has been obedient, faithful, and even honest; and yet-it is now apparent-all that time he was but waiting his chance."

      Mr Waldron made a wry face.

      "Guess he might have waited another seven years," said he, "or at least till I was clear of Hong-Kong. Why his chance should have come the moment I arrive in the colony is a mystery to me."

      "I am sorry to say, Mr Waldron," said Sir Thomas, "I can't regard that coincidence in the light of a mystery. I have a very shrewd suspicion that your wealth is the sole cause of all our trouble."

      "Not the first time," added Mr Waldron, "by a long chalk, that money has led to disaster. I tell you frankly, I was a happier man in the old days-when I lived on fifteen dollars a week-than after I had made my pile."

      "I can very well believe it," said Sir Thomas. "That, however, doesn't alter the situation in the least. Mark my words, very soon Cheong-Chau will show his hand."

      It is clear that the judge had correctly estimated both the circumstances of the case and the character of Cheong-Chau; for scarcely had the last words left his lips when the brigand chieftain himself entered the cave, accompanied by Men-Ching, his second-in-command.

      Cheong-Chau seated himself cross-legged upon the ground, and for a few moments warmed his hands by the fire, without uttering a word. Then he spoke in the Cantonese language, addressing himself to the judge:

      "Those who fall into the hands of Cheong-Chau," said he, "must purchase their freedom in silver taels or in blood."

      The judge did not reply. After a pause Cheong-Chau continued. Though he was a little man, his voice was both deep and guttural. He spoke slowly and with great deliberation, as if particularly desirous that his words should not be misunderstood.

      "I make you a fair offer," said he. "It is not my habit to mince matters. I hold you captive. You are my prisoner. I can do with you what I like. No one will ever find you here. Neither can you escape; day and night there are sentries at the mouth of the cave. They tell me that you have the reputation of being a wise man. If that is so, you cannot fail to see that you and your companions are in my power-birds caught in the fowler's net."

      He paused again and looked at the judge, who merely nodded his head.

      "This is my offer," he continued. "After I have explained matters I shall give you ten minutes in which to make up your mind. You are to write a letter to the Governor of Hong-Kong, or to anyone else you may choose. In that letter you are to say that your life, and the lives of those who are with you, are in the hands of Cheong-Chau, and that Cheong-Chau demands, as the price of your freedom, the sum of twenty thousand Hong-Kong dollars, to be paid in cash before the new moon."

      Having laid down his conditions, the man remained silent whilst the judge explained the meaning of his words to Mr Waldron.

      "It is as I told you," said Sir Thomas. "Twenty thousand dollars. The rascal certainly cannot be accused of being modest."

      Mr Waldron snapped his fingers.

      "So far as I am concerned," said he, "he can have it. Don't let the money worry you, Judge. I've paid that for a picture."

      The judge turned to Cheong-Chau and asked him to continue. The man grinned-an unholy grin of fiendish satisfaction. To him and his cut-throats the sum was more than a fortune; it would serve to keep the whole gang of them in luxury for the rest of their lives.

      "The matter," said he, "is quite simple to arrange. Write your letter, and I will undertake to have it conveyed to Hong-Kong. The moon is but three days old. We have therefore twenty-five days. Together with your letter I will send one of my own, in which I propose to demand that the money be left hidden in a certain place upon the Sang River, not far from Canton. If the whole of this sum is safely deposited in the proper place before the conclusion of the waning of the moon, you and your friends shall be set at liberty. If, however, for any reason, the ransom is not paid, I swear by the Five Sacred Books that all three of you will be put to death. Concerning the manner of your death," he added, "I say nothing-beyond a warning that those who die by order of Cheong-Chau die neither easily nor swiftly."