Stan Lynn Part 5

The Chinaman grinned and nodded.

"Come now," he said, and turned to go, but stopped short directly to look curiously at his young master.

"Well," said Stan, "why don't you go?"

"Wantee go? Stan-lee wan tee man to shave him?"

"To shave me? Nonsense! To shave my uncle."

"What good shave uncle? Uncle killee. All loasted 'way in big fi'."

"Nonsense! He wasn't hurt."

"Not killee?"

"No."

"Not Mistee Lynn killee?"

"What! My father?"

The man nodded quickly.

"No; we fought the enemy and beat them off."

"Sin velly glad," said the man, smiling. "All say Mistee Jefflee and Mistee Lynn allee kill dead and loast black. Velly good job fo' Sin.

No go find new mastee. Sin lun fas' now."

He set off at a very slow dog-trot, and the lad looked after him for a few moments before walking back through the staring crowd, who had caught from Sin the refutation of their news, and were chattering eagerly, and, as it seemed to Stan, looking disappointed at the fact that neither of the English merchants had been killed. In fact, the information just received had reduced a serious catastrophe into nothing better than a pitiful fire and the breaking of a few windows; but the crowd stopped and stared all the same, just as persistently as a London gathering would round a house where something or another had happened.

"You've been pretty quick, Stan," said his father as the lad entered the room where the brothers were discussing the night's proceedings, with their loaded revolvers lying upon the table.

Uncle Jeff turned sharply and stared.

"You haven't been?" he said as he pa.s.sed his hand slowly over his singed face.

Stan told of his meeting with their Chinese cook and general man.

"The cowardly ruffian!" cried Uncle Jeff angrily. "Did he say anything about leaving us in the lurch last night?"

Stan told him.

"Of course. Velly much aflaid. Just like a Chinaman; but they're brave enough when they're fifty to one, as they were last night. He ought to have stood by us, Stan. We've behaved well to him."

"He's a very good servant, Jeff," said Stan's father, "and works well for us. Don't bully the man for what he cannot help."

"I'm not going to, Oliver. I know, and I'll forgive him if he'll only make haste back, bring that precious barber, and get us some breakfast.

I'm starving."

As it happened, the unhappily named man came hurrying back with the razor-wielder; and soon after the latter had performed his task, turning Uncle Jeff into a bluff-looking middle-aged man with closely cut hair, smooth chin, and a short, fierce moustache, Sin made his appearance at the door, to smilingly announce that "bleakfast" was "leady," and then stood fast, wide-open of eyes, extended of lips, and shaking gently.

"You scoundrel!" cried Uncle Jeff. "If you dare to laugh at my misfortunes I'll kick you downstairs."

"Pi Sin no laugh at Mistee Jeff's misfoltunes," said the man piteously.

"Him laugh see mast' look so 'live and well when Sin tink um dead and bellied. Gleat pity didn't make shave all head and weah long tail."

"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Uncle Jeff, who was mollified by the man's words, "Well, what's for breakfast?"

"Coffee, hot cake--"

"What!" cried Uncle Jeff. "You've had no time to make hot cakes."

"Pi Sin buy um all leady at bakee when he go fetch shave-man."

"Oh, that's how you managed--eh?" said Uncle Jeff Sin smiled.

"Make poke-pie yes'day. Nice cold."

"That'll about do--eh, Stan?" said Uncle Jeff.

"Capitally, uncle."

"Got any appet.i.te after your fighting?"

"Oh yes, uncle; it has made me terribly hungry."

"Then come along."

"Hah!" said Uncle Jeff, about a quarter of an hour later, as he wiped his lips with a paper napkin. "Who'd ever have thought we should be having such a breakfast as this in the old place--eh, Oliver?"

"I for one fully expected that we should be buried in its ashes," said Stan's father.

"Humph!" said Uncle Jeff; "then next time you think such dolorous things keep them to yourself, and don't say them to spoil your son's breakfast."

"They don't spoil my breakfast a bit, Uncle Jeff. More pie, please."

"You're right, Stan. Sin is a good cook, even if he is no use as a fighting-man."

"Splendid, uncle."

"And we'll forgive him--eh?"

"Certainly, uncle."

Five minutes later the object of these remarks appeared, to say that a party of gentlemen had arrived.

It was a deputation from the foreign merchants of the port, to offer condolences and help to their brethren; and on finding how little the Lynns had suffered, they did not hesitate to tell them that they might have expected the fate that befell them, which was like a judgment upon them for erecting their warehouse and stores so far away from their brother-merchants, and prophesied more evil to them if they failed now to remove to a safer position.