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CHAPTER XI – The First Rumour of a Riot

When they entered the old Ichang Consulate by a decidedly crooked and very dusty passage way, they found Mr. Mortimer looking very grave.

‘Anyone heard anything about this rumour?’ he asked – over his shoulder, as it were.

No one spoke, no one moved. He waited. To Lilian there was at once something appalling about the dead silence that prevailed. It prepared her for what was to come.

‘It can’t have come by telegraph, because the telegraph wires are broken.’

‘They always are,’ said the Doctor. ‘They’ve always sense enough for that.’

‘And it can’t have come any other way, because it is impossible. But the Chinese say there was trouble at Chinkiang days ago – that all the foreign houses are burnt, and the foreigners driven out.’

‘Chinkiang!’ exclaimed Mr. Bertolacci.

‘Chinkiang!’ cried the Doctor in a different key, and quite half a minute behind.

‘Chinkiang!’ said Mr. Ashurst in a very low tone, and as if to himself, after about a minute’s pause.

‘That’s the first place we stopped at as we came up the Yangtsze,’ explained Mrs. Betterton to Lilian, ‘where the captain complained so much of the size of the missionaries’ houses, and we learnt afterwards they were schools for native teachers. You remember the Consulate, with its large garden and beautiful view?’

‘You hear all the houses are burnt?’ asked the Doctor.

‘That’s what my writer has just told me.’

‘Do you think it will be safe to go on to Chungking?’ asked Mrs. Betterton after a pause.

‘Well, it is right the other way, is it not? There’s been one riot there, too.’

‘And you mean there may be another?’

‘No, I mean they don’t generally have two in the same place, one on top of the other. Ichang is the next place. There’s never been a riot here yet, and each port is bound to have its turn. But I’m determined to be even with them, the beggars. I have made a complete inventory of all my things, with the prices I value them at, and I’ve sent it down to Shanghai. If they burn me too, they’ll have to pay all the same to my heirs and executors. Heirs and executors! How grand it sounds! I’ve made a will, too, on the strength of it.’

‘Not really?’ asked Lilian.

‘Haven’t I, though? My will and inventory went down to Shanghai by the last mail. And now I’m ready for them. Let them come on, I say! I’m spoiling for a fight.’

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