apped his hand over her mouth, and, in
spite of her biting it, kept it there.

Meanwhile Ping Wang and Fred had scrambled back, hearing the noise. They
joined Charlie, and between them managed to tie the Chinaman's pigtail
round the woman's neck, so that neither could move without difficulty.

'Now let us leave them,' Ping Wang said, and they started running. But
before they had gone many yards they heard the Chinaman and his wife
shouting frantically, 'Foreigners! Kill the foreigners!'

Their shouts were heard by others, also, and a man rushed forward to
stop them, but Charlie raised his knife threateningly and the fellow
ran. Nevertheless, he too shouted 'Foreigners!' and, gathering together
some friends, started in pursuit. At every few yards others joined in
the chase.

'Where are you going to take us?' Charlie asked of Ping Wang, after
glancing back at the mob pursuing them.

'To the gates,' Ping Wang answered. 'This is our way.'

They turned into one of the narrow streets which they had traversed
earlier in the evening, and, as they ran at full speed along it, here
and there men came out of their houses to see what the noise meant. They
heard the shouts of 'Foreigners!' but the average Chinaman has a great
respect for his skin, and consequently not one of the men who saw the
Pages and Ping Wang rush by attempted to stop them.

'I'm done up,' Ping Wang gasped before long; 'our only chance is to
hide.'

The next street was a short one, and the Pages were surprised after what
Ping Wang had said about being tired to see him sprint along it. They
followed close on his heels, and when he stopped at the end of it, they
did the same. Instead of crossing the wide road which faced them, Ping
Wang turned to the right, and after walking quickly for about thirty
yards made another turn to the right which brought them into a narrow
street running parallel with the one down which they had sprinted. There
was no one visible; all the residents were evidently at the feast. Ping
Wang stopped at the second house and pressed his hand against the door,
which opened. He peeped into the place, and, seeing no one, entered
stealthily, the Pages following quickly and equally cautiously. As soon
as they were in, Ping Wang shot the bolt of the door. It was a dark and
dirty room in which the fugitives found themselves, and by the faint
light of a lantern they could see that it was a poverty-stricken place.

(_Continued on page 374._)