But T'ong whispered that the law uses these terms in China, and
that nobody would be more disappointed than the Chinese magistrate if I
_did_ take advantage of his unmeaning offer. So I took a _wu-pan_, and
the following night, when pulling into the shadows of the Sui-fu pagoda,
cold and hungry, I cursed my luck that I had not broken down the useless
etiquette which these Chinese officials extend towards foreigners, and
taken the fellow's gunboat.
The _wu-pan_, they swore to me, would be ready to leave at 3:30 a.m. the
day following. My boy did not venture to sleep at all. He stayed up
outside my bedroom door--I say bedroom, but actually it was an apartment
which in Europe I would not put a horse into, and the door was merely a
wide, worm-eaten board placed on end. In the middle of the night I heard
a noise--yea, a rattle. The said board fell down, inwards, almost upon
me. A light was flashed swiftly into my eyes, and desultory remarks
which suddenly escaped me were rudely interrupted by shrill screams. My
boy was singing.
"Master," he cried, pulling hard-heartedly at my left big toe to wake
me, "come on, come on; you wantchee makee get up. Have got two o'clock.
Get up; p'laps me no wakee you, no makee sleep--no b'long ploper.
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