o a
gateway opening upon a very narrow lane, which evidently went along by
the backs of the neighbouring houses, parallel with the main street,
which was, however, not such a great deal wider than this.

"Here's a way for us to go down, at all events," said Barkins, after we
had listened for a few moments for Ching's song, and the wiry notes of
his instrument.

"Yes, let's cut down at once," said Smith.

"Where to?" I said excitedly. "We can't find our way without Ching."

"No; and those beggars would hunt us down there at once," said Barkins.
"Won't do. I say, though, why don't they give us better tools than
these to wear?"

"Hark!" I said; "listen!"

We listened, but there was nothing but the murmur of voices in the
house, and not a soul to be seen on our side, till all at once I caught
sight of something moving among the shrubs, and made out that it was the
gay coat of one of the men from whom we sought to escape.

"Come on!" said Smith excitedly, and he threw open the gate leading into
the narrow lane, so that in another moment we should have been in full
retreat, had not a door behind us in the side of the house been opened,
and Ching appeared.

He did not speak, but made a sign for us to enter, and we were hardly
inside and the door thrust to--all but a chink big enough for our guide
to use for reconnoitring--when we heard the soft pat-pat of the men's
boots, then the rustle of their garments, and the tap given by one of
their swords as they passed through the gateway and ran down the narrow
lane.

"All gone along, catchee you," whispered Ching. "Come 'long other way."

He stepped out, made us follow, and then carefully closed the door.

"Now, come 'long this way," he said, with his eyes twinkling. "No
walkee fast. Allee boy lun after."

We saw the wisdom of his proceedings, and followed him, as he took us by
the way our enemies had come, straight out into the main street, down it
a little way, and then up a turning, which he followed till we came to
another important street parallel to the one by which we had come, and
began to follow it downward toward the waterside.

"Muchee flighten?" he said.

"Oh, I don't know," growled Barkins, who had the deepest voice of the
three. "It was startling. Did they mean mischief?"

"Mean chop chop. Allee bad wick' men. No catchee now. Ching velly
much flighten."

He did not look so, but chatted away with open, smiling face, as he
pointed first o