Returning to the boat, he brought it from out its shelter among the reeds, and soon had it drawn up for a few feet on the muddy shore. Every one of the party breathed more freely. They sat on the sampans to rest. For some little time no one spoke; they all listened intently: would the pursuers come to the same spot? They could hear voices, faint in the distance; but the sounds seemed to be receding. It appeared certain that, whether they knew of it or not, the pursuers were not at present rowing in the direction of the hiding-place. Presently absolute silence reigned; and Errington reckoned that they were lucky in having approached so late in the evening, when the wild fowl had settled themselves; otherwise they might have been betrayed by the birds’ flight. "We can’t see what’s wrong with the machine in the darkness," said Burroughs at length, in a whisper; "and we daren’t strike a light." "No; the only thing we can do is to wait for morning," replied Errington. "We shall pass a wretched night, old man." "It might be worse. I only wish I hadn’t got this whack in the shoulder; it stings horribly." "I can bathe it and tie it up; hope it’s not serious; but if we can get the machine mended we shan’t be long running down to Sui-Fu in the morning, and then we’ll soon put you to rights." Errington took a dipper down to the water, filled it, and returned to bathe Burroughs’ wound. Lo San met him. "Captin he glumble velly much," he said. "He say wantchee chow-chow; long time he hab catchee nuffin to eat." Burroughs had brought a little food from Sui-Fu--enough to provide himself and the two Chinamen with meals for a day. A portion of these provisions still remained; but knowing Chung Pi’s appetite, he doubted whether the captain would be satisfied if the food were divided. "Tell him he can have a crust of bread, a sausage end, and a mug of beer," he said. "We haven’t got any melon seeds or sam-shu." Chung Pi gobbled the food with great celerity, but drank the beer in slow sips, having been assured that he could have no more. He still grumbled very much, and it struck Burroughs suddenly that cold and hunger might so work on the captain that he might be tempted to betray them. Henceforth he would be a marked man so far as the rebels were concerned; and the chance to reinstate himself in the favour of his chief, Su Fing, might prevail over the prospect of advancement at which he had mysteriously hinted. "You two men keep your eye on Chung Pi," said Burroughs to the servants. "He’s not to stir from the sampan he’s on. Show him a knife if he objects, but don’t use it." Burroughs need not have been alarmed. Chung Pi slept through the greater part of the night; and in the intervals of wakefulness he comforted himself for the cold and hunger he felt by blissful imaginings of plenty of sam-shu and melon seeds in a not distant future.