Peter the Brazen: A Mystery Story of Modern China
Page 30
CHAPTER XII
The shadows were lengthening, the sky was of a deeper and vaster blue,when the train came to a creaking stop in the Kowloon Station.
Peter emerged, scanning the passengers warily, but catching not aglimpse of his red-faced enemy. What did that one have in store forhim now? This chase was becoming a game of hide-and-seek. But in HongKong he would feel safer. Hong Kong was a haunt of civilized men andof able Sikh policemen, who detested the yellow men of China.
He took the ferry-boat across the bay to the city, which rose tier upontier of white from the purple water; and he made his way afoot to theAmerican consulate.
With auspicious celerity the sad-eyed clerk bowed him into the presenceof an elderly gentleman with white side whiskers and an inveteratehabit of stroking a long and angular nose.
This personage permitted his shrewd, grave eyes to take in Peter fromhis blond hair to his tan walking shoes, and with a respectful mienPeter prepared his wits for a sharp and digging cross-examination.
"I have been advised," began the American consul, giving to Peter'sblue eyes a look of curiosity in which was mingled not a littleunconcealed admiration, as he might have looked upon the person ofPancho Villa, had that other miscreant stepped into his gloomyoffice--"I have been advised," he repeated importantly, "by thecommander of the auxiliary cruiser _Buffalo_ that you contemplated avisit to Hong Kong."
He sank back and stared, and it took Peter several moments to becomeaware that the content of the remark was not nearly so important as itspronunciation. The remark was somewhat obvious. The American consuldesired Peter to make the opening.
Peter inclined his head as he slowly digested the statement.
"I was told by Commander Eckles to report to you," he repliedrespectfully, "for orders."
The American consul laid his hands firmly upon the edge of the mahoganydesk.
"My orders, Mr. Moore, are that you leave China immediately. Itrust----"
"Why?" said Peter in a dry voice.
"That is a matter which, unfortunately, I cannot discuss with you. Theorder comes, I am permitted to inform you, from the highest ofdiplomatic quarters. To be exact, from Peking, and from the Americanambassador, to be more specific."
It was crystal clear to Peter that the American consul was notcognizant of what might be behind those orders from the Americanambassador; yet his face, for all of its diplomatic masking, told Peterplainly that the American consul was not entirely averse to learning.
"Have I been interfering with the lawful pursuits of the ChineseEmpire?" he inquired ironically.
The American consul stroked his long nose pensively.
"Well--perhaps," he said. "On the whole, that is something you canbest explain yourself, Mr. Moore. If you should care to give me yourside of the question, ah----"
"I haven't a thing to say," rejoined Peter. "If the United StatesGovernment chooses to believe that my presence is inimical to itsinterests in China----"
"Pressure might have been brought to bear from another quarter."
"Quite so," admitted Peter.
"Now, if you should desire to make me acquainted with your pursuitsduring the past--ah--few months, let us say, it is within the bounds ofpossibility that I might somehow rescind this drastic--ah--order.Suffice it to say, that I shall be glad to put my every power at youraid. As you are an American, it is my duty and my pleasure, sir, ifyou will permit me, to do all within my power, my somewhat restrictedpower, if I may qualify that statement, to reinstate you in the goodgraces of those--ah--good gentlemen in Peking."
It was all too evident that, back and beyond the friendly intentions ofthis official, was a hungry desire for information regarding this youngman whose dark activities had been recognized by the high powers to anextent sufficient to set in motion the complicated and bulky wheels ofdiplomacy.
Peter shook his head respectfully, and the consul permitted hisreluctantly admiring and inquisitive gaze to travel up and down theromantic and now international figure.
"I am able to say nothing," he expressed himself quietly. "If theAmerican ambassador has decreed that I ought to go home--home I go!I'll confess right now that I did not intend to go home when I steppedinto this office, but I do respect, and I will respect, the authorityof that order."
"If the President, for example, should request you tocontinue--ah--what you have been doing, for the good, let us say, ofhumanity, you would continue without hesitation, Mr. Moore?"
Peter gave the long, pale face a sharp scrutiny. Did thisinnocent-faced man know more than he intimated, or was he merelyapplying the soft, velvet screws of diplomacy, endeavoring to squeezeout a little information?
"I certainly would."
The consul rose, with a bland smile, and extended his hand.
"It has been gratifying to know one who has become such a singular,and, permit me to add, such a trying figure, in diplomatic circles,during the past week. Good-day, sir!"
Peter walked down Desvoeux road in a state of mental detachment. Aweek! Only a week had passed since he had sailed from Batavia, a weeksince he had thrown overboard the emissary of the Gray Dragon. Heconcluded that in more than one way could his presence be dismissedfrom the land of darkness and distrust.
How had the Gray Dragon brought pressure upon the American ambassador,a man of the highest repute, of sterling and patriotic qualities? Theanswer seemed to be, that the coils of the Gray Dragon extendedeverywhere, like an inky fluid which had leaked into every crevice andcrack of all Asia.
He was still under orders to pay a visit to J. B. Whalen, the Marconisupervisor. That cross-examination he was glad to postpone.
He called at the office of the Pacific Mail, and found that the _Kingof Asia_ was due to leave for the United States the following morningat dawn. He made a deposit on a reservation.