olume until, in half
an hour after the beginning, it seemed as though the very bottom had
fallen out of the heavens, and thus allowed the water pent up there to
fall upon the earth in an overwhelming cataract.

One by one, as they became chilled by the wet, the sleepers awoke, and
crawled drowsily either into or beneath the carts; and soon Frobisher
was the only human being in sight anywhere in camp. He was quickly
drenched to the skin, but realising how excellent a screen for rushing
the camp this downpour would make, he remained at his post, shivering
with cold, for the rest of the night; and by the time that morning
dawned, was feeling weary and wretched.

As soon, however, as the first hint of dawn paled the eastern sky, the
rain ceased as suddenly as it had begun, and Frobisher aroused Ling and
gave him orders to call the men to their breakfast, so that an early
start might be made.

When Frobisher poked his head under the hood of the cart where the
Korean had taken refuge from the rain, he somehow very strongly
suspected that that individual had been awake and sitting up at the
moment of his approach; yet he was obliged to shake the man vigorously
for a full minute before he could be made to comprehend that it was time
to bestir himself.

As soon as Ling permitted himself to realise this fact, however, he
sprang from the cart with an admirable assumption of briskness, and soon
had the mule-drivers at work preparing breakfast and inspanning the wet
and wretched-looking mules. He even took the trouble to light a fire
himself and prepare a cup of hot tea for the "mastel", for which the
drenched and shivering young Englishman felt sincerely grateful.

The young man had taken only a single sip, however, when he detected a
very peculiar taste in the liquid, and spat the mouthful out on to the
ground, with an exclamation of disgust. Happening to glance upward at
the moment, he caught sight of Ling regarding him with a peculiar
expression, in which hate, cunning, and satisfaction were curiously
mingled; and Frobisher could scarcely repress his anger as he realised
the meaning of that malignant glare. Not content with having attempted
to murder him by means of the knife during the night, the scoundrel was
now trying to put an end to him by means of poison; a powerful and very
painful poison, too, surmised Frobisher, if he might judge by the
burning, biting sensation that tingled on his throat, lips, and tongue.