there was something almost pathetic in the way in which uzali uttered the few words which passed his lips. his face was devoid of all trace of anger, his dark eyes had grown very sad.
"i am afraid you will hardly understand me," he said. "it is almost impossible for western people to enter into the thoughts and ambitions of the east. you would hardly suppose, to see me sitting here in the heart of london, surrounded by these evidences of civilization, that i am a man who has set his heart upon the remaking of a nation. and yet, up to a few moments ago, that ambition was as strong and keen as ever. and now it has been dispelled like a dream. but, perhaps, i had better not talk in this poetic strain. three or four years ago i came to england to see if i could come to terms with the government. you see, both my brother and myself had been educated here, and we thought it was just possible that the british government would take our province under their protection. we had talked it over scores of times, and at last i came to england to see what i could do. it is about three years since the news of the catastrophe came to me, and even then i learnt it through the medium of one of the newspapers. i suppose the press did not think it worth more than a paragraph, which merely told of the disaster of the lake and how the tribe to which it belonged had been swept out of existence. mind you, i did not think there was anything wrong. it seemed not unnatural that some great storm might sweep the dam away, and then the rest would have been a mere matter of minutes. but i was not satisfied. i went to borneo to make inquiries, and eventually i found two survivors of the disaster. then it was i discovered what had taken place. i can assure you, from that time to this i have done nothing but investigate and investigate till, by slow degrees, i have hit upon the right track. but tell me, gentlemen, how did you find me out?"
"we didn't find you out at all," mercer said. "the thing was pure accident. we discovered that some of your tribe were bent upon wreaking their vengeance on samuel flower, and as my friend russell was so mixed up in the matter he determined to see the thing through. it was the merest coincidence that we met you at the theatre to-night."
"i see," uzali said. "well, gentlemen, if you will help me i will promise to help you. but even as yet you don't quite appreciate where the danger lies. everything is in the hands of those two clansmen of mine. if they are here on their own responsibility and i can gain speech with them, i may prevent murder. but if, on the other hand, these men are here as the emissaries of our priests, then it is little heed they will pay to me. if i were to sit here talking to you all night i could not impress upon you the influence which our priests exercised over our people. but at any rate, i can try. if you will both come with me to a place in the east end of london——"
"impossible so far as i am concerned," russell said curtly. "i have other and much more important work to do. but there is no reason why mercer should be home before saturday evening, and i daresay he will be glad to keep you company."
"anything where i can oblige," mercer said.
uzali rose hurriedly to his feet.
"then there is no more to be said for the present," he exclaimed. "i suppose dr. mercer knows where to find you if necessary. now, if you will give me a few moments i will change my dress."
russell had gone by the time uzali came back. the latter had changed into a thick pilot suit with a blue cap which came well below his ears. a short clay pipe in his mouth gave him the aspect of the foreign type of seaman generally to be found loitering about the docks, and along the wharves about limehouse.
"we are going into some queer company," he explained. "i had better give you a cap like my own to wear and a shabby overcoat. if we have any luck we shall be on the track of our friends before daylight. we can take a cab as far as upper thames street and walk the rest of the journey."
uzali chuckled to himself as the first passing cabman looked at him keenly and demanded to know where his fare was to come from. the sight of half a sovereign seemed to allay the cab-man's fears and he set his horse going somewhat sulkily. when the cab was dismissed there was a good step yet to go before uzali turned down a side street with the air of a man who appears to be sure of his ground, and knocked three times at a doorway which was so far underground as to be more like the entrance to a cellar than anything else. a grating in the doorway was pushed cautiously back and a yellow, skinny face peeped through. it was the face of an elderly chinaman scored and creased with thousands of lines, each line having the dirt ground into it, and the whole resembling an engraving after rembrandt. it was an old, cunning, wicked face, too, so that even mercer, accustomed to all sorts and conditions of men, recoiled at the sight.
apparently the guardian of the door was satisfied, for he mumbled something in response to uzali's question and opened the door. for a moment the atmosphere was unbearable. it smote mercer with the strength of a blow. he had had many adventures in various sinks of iniquity on the four continents. he knew san francisco and new york, port said and cairo, but never before had he encountered anything quite so bad as this. he reeled to and fro and then sat down on the filthy door-step. as to uzali, it seemed natural to him.
he was speaking a kind of pidgin english which mercer could understand. he chinked some coins in his pocket which seemed to mercer rather an imprudent thing to do, for the yellow face lit up and the dark almond eyes gleamed with cupidity.
"they are not here, illustrious one," the chinaman said. "on my soul be it if i do not speak the truth."
"but they have been here," uzali persisted.
the chinaman bowed till his forehead touched the filthy floor. apparently he was placing his den and all it contained at the disposal of his visitor. uzali took a step forward and shook him violently. it seemed rather a dangerous thing to do, for the damp, stagnant floor of the room was littered with prostrate forms either in the full ecstasy of their opium, or drugged to a dreamless sleep by it. the chinaman shook his head again.
"one, two, three, four, five," said uzali counting on his fingers, "six, seven, eight, nine, ten sovereigns if you find them for me this evening. i have the gold in my pocket. more money than you could make in a week. now wake up, exert yourself. surely you could find some one who can tell me where they have gone."
the chinaman pondered a moment with his long fingers in his grey beard. then, once more he bowed and excused himself a moment whilst he disappeared in the murky blackness at the back of the evil-smelling den.
"dare you trust him?" mercer asked.
"bah, he would do anything for money," uzali said contemptuously. "he could have told me in the first place if he liked."
"and your friends have been here to-night?"
"yes, they have been here right enough, and i am rather glad of it for one thing. they would not be able to resist the opium, and when we do catch up with them they will be like children in our hands. we are not going to have our walk for nothing."
"i don't mind as long as we get outside this place," wilfrid said. "it seems impossible that anybody could live in an atmosphere like this. i hope that chinaman of yours isn't going to keep us here much longer."
after what seemed to be an interminable time the proprietor of the opium den returned, accompanied by a fellow-countryman almost as wrinkled and quite as dirty as himself. it was only from the alertness of his movements that the newcomer proclaimed the fact that he was much younger than the master of the ceremonies. his face was suspicious and sullen, and there was no sign of animation in his eyes till uzali produced a sovereign from his pocket.
"malays," he said curtly. "north borneo men. there were two or three of them here this evening who have now gone. show me where to find them and this piece of money is yours."
a transformation came over the cunning face of the listener. he held out a lean, yellow claw which trembled violently as the piece of gold was passed into it.
"you stay here, small piecie," he said, "and i go find. maybe, small piecie be long piecie, and i find all le same."
"we had better go with him," uzali suggested.
the chinaman winked slightly and shook his head. even the display of a second piece of money failed to shake his determination, though his eyes fairly watered at the sight of it.
"no, no, i not go at all," he said sulkily. "all same piecie gold, good thing, but life better still."
uzali gave it up with a gesture of despair. there was nothing for it but to wait in that loathsome atmosphere till the messenger came back. the minutes dragged along; a quarter of an hour passed and then the messenger returned. he held up his hand as a sign for the others to follow.
