"All right, old chap," replied Ned, taking the old fellow's arm and leading the way in, while I followed him. "Here goes." The moment, however, that we had entered the flimsy-looking building the door was quickly slammed-to behind us; while a gang of ruffians of the same kidney as the treacherous old scoundrel who had beguiled us, threw Ned and myself on the ground and gagged and pinioned us like a pair of trussed fowls, before we could call out or make a single movement in our own defence. When they saw that we were properly secured, our uniforms were torn off our backs and a couple of blue cotton shirts, such as the Chinese coolies wear, pulled over our shoulders, as a sort of disguise. An ugly old pith hat, of the shape of a mushroom, was then jammed down on the tops of our unfortunate heads; and we looked at one another in wonder as to what would come next. We were not long in suspense. The old chap, who was evidently a person of authority, shouted out some loud order or other, which sounded more like a pig grunting under a gate than any language I had previously heard spoken, there being a strong swinish flavour in the Chinese lingo, as about their fields, which Ned Anstruther and I had smelt coming along on our unlucky walk! He had evidently given some order to the attendants; for, no sooner had he finished grunting than a couple of rum things somewhat like the palanquins I had seen when at Bombay, were brought in and put down in front of us. They were, really, cages made of bamboo, and which only criminals are confined in, as I afterwards found out. Into these, Ned and I were thrust separately, one in each. We were then lifted up by the poles attached to our novel sort of conveyance, two men carrying mine and two more lifting Ned's "trap"--I know I felt very much like what a mouse does when caught in one, for I was caged with a vengeance--they trotted off with us, through a back door, and then along a wide, country road, I knew not whither! CHAPTER THIRTY ONE. "ONE PIECEE CAN DO!" We could not talk together, for the very good reason that our mouths were gagged, nor could we see each other now, poor consolation as that would have been; although possibly a friendly wink from Ned might have cheered me up a bit under the circumstances, the idea preying on my mind that it was owing to my fault in persuading him to enter into the treacherous ambuscade that we had been thus entrapped. But whatever Anstruther's reflections might have been I had no means of knowing, as our bearers trotted onwards with his bamboo palanquin abreast of mine, both of our craft making good headway; the artful, yellow-hatted old scoundrel who had so successfully planned our capture bringing up the rear of the procession and grunting away at a fine rate behind.