Reflection on
the general situation, and on the insecurity of Number One, came later,
after he had obtained possession of the revolver and of the box of
cartridges out of the table drawer in the living-room.
"Oh, you savee plenty about white men," Heyst went on in a slightly
bantering tone, after a moment of silent reflection in which he had
confessed to himself that the recovery of the revolver was not to be
thought of, either by persuasion or by some more forcible means. "You
speak in that fashion, but you are frightened of those white men over
there."
"Me no flightened," protested Wang raucously, throwing up his
head--which gave to his throat a more strained, anxious appearance than
ever. "Me no likee," he added in a quieter tone. "Me velly sick."
He put his hand over the region under the breast-bone.
"That," said Heyst, serenely positive, "belong one piecee lie. That
isn't proper man-talk at all. And after stealing my revolver, too!"
He had suddenly decided to speak about it, because this frankness could
not make the situation much worse than it was. He did not suppose for a
moment that Wang had the revolver anywhere about his person; and after
having thought the matter over, he had arrived at the conclusion that
the Chinaman never meant to use the weapon against him. After a slight
start, because the direct charge had taken him unawares, Wang tore open
the front of his jacket with a convulsive show of indignation.
Pages:
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370