They passed into another room, unlighted except for the light coming from the door left open behind them. They crossed two rooms and an empty dark court, turning down a narrow runway between houses from which they came out on an open space. Megan supposed it to be a garden because the gravel of ordered walks crunched under their feet and in the gusty wind the dark trees about them made sudden abrupt gestures against the pallor of starry sky. After the smoky room they had left the air seemed fresh and even sharp, full of the agitation of hidden rustling leaves and grass. They came to a gate which the General opened himself. "The road is over there," he said. "The car, if it is still waiting, is along this stretch." They crossed a field. Ahead of them, sprinkled at an indefinite distance in the dark, were a few trembling lights. The field was full of mounds, some topped with what seemed replicas of houses. Graves. Once a fetid odor drifted across their path like a warm current in the cold air. Then their feet touched the smoother surface of the road, and they almost collided with a car that, without lights, waited there. "Well, this is luck," exclaimed Mr. Shultz. "Think of the old bus being here!" The General's driver sat at the wheel. He had been waiting stolidly and he showed no surprise at seeing them. Perhaps he was expecting them. He climbed down without a word and opened the door. The General and Mr. Shultz explained to him the route he was to follow. The General and Megan got in and Mr. Shultz sat between them, Captain Li took one of the folding seats. Against the faintly luminous square of the windows the chenille fringes made fanciful patterns. The car started. "Looks as though we're going to get a good break all around," said Mr. Shultz with satisfaction. The sound of the motor was comforting and enveloped them in security. That the car should have been there, that it should function so perfectly, seemed to mean they were intended to get away unharmed. Mr. Shultz's hunch evidently told him so, and Megan was inclined to believe he was right. Mr. Shultz talked in a low, agreeable voice, like a host who feels the responsibility for his guests. He talked to Megan more directly. "Well, this will make something for you to write home about, Miss Davis; your friends will enjoy all your Chinese adventures." "Yes," she answered absently. From time to time he leaned across to peer through the window. "Nice clear night," he said, "good wind. We'll be down the bay in no time. If my launch isn't where it ought to be, we'll take a junk. There is bound to be at least one there, probably more. How much money have you got with you, General?" "Oh, five or six hundred dollars." "Well, I always carry some. I wish, though, I had more on me to-night, though sometimes that's the worst place for your money."