Adventure stories; China -- Fiction; Science fiction; Tibet Autonomous Region (China) -- Fiction
There was one fact that struck me at once as unusual--even significant.
My attendant, or gaoler as he was now become, had been accustomed to
occupy one of the servants' chambers at the back of the house; here he
took his meals and slept, entering the living rooms only to bring me my
food. To-day the fellow posted himself on a couch in the main hall and
remained there practically all the time. I pretended to take no notice
of his presence, but I couldn't fail to see the meaning of it; and the
thought raised my hopes still higher. It looked as if there _was_ a
plot on foot to further my escape, and my enemies, having got wind of
it, had ordered this fellow to remain where he would be in a better
position to raise an alarm.
The man said not a word to me all day, but sat for the most part still
as a statue, and as handsome. He was only a servant in this valley of
Olympians, but he had a face that in any drawing room in Europe would
have forced the eyes of every man and woman upon him like a magnet.
At somewhere near eight o'clock, he brought his evening meal to the
main hall, laid it on the low table, and began to eat. I withdrew to
my bedchamber as if to sleep, though I'd not yet eaten my own supper,
which I was in the habit of taking about nine. After a while I became
conscious of a curious stillness in the large room. I crept to the
doorway and peeped between the curtain and the marble jamb. To-night
the great hanging lamp had been lit, and was filling the place with a
soft fragrance usual with the luminant oils used in the valley, and by
the light of this lamp I could see my gaoler quite clearly--could see
his face and the uncommonly languid expression it wore. The man was
dozing. Two minutes later he was asleep, and five after that, I knew
from the deep stupor he had fallen into that his food had been drugged.
So far so good. Now to get out. I rapidly searched him for the keys
of the building. They were not on him. Nor could I find them in his
quarters. I made a swift exploration of the whole place, but so far as
escape went, I seemed to be no better off with my gaoler insensible
than before: the main door, and the one other door at the back of
the house, were locked, and far too strong to be forced. However,
the drugging of the attendant proved that friends were stirring for
me--very capable friends at that, for the tampering with this man's
food could only have been effected by extreme craft and daring; and I
must apparently possess myself to sit down and wait to be rescued.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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