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Updated: May 16, 2025
The sergeant looked at him hastily and saw the mistake. "Schemmer!" he called, imperatively. "Come here." The German grunted, but remained bent over his task till the chunk of iron was lashed to his satisfaction. "Is your Chinago ready?" he demanded. "Look at him," was the answer. "Is he the Chinago?" Schemmer was surprised.
Then he spoke: "Is Schemmer going to cut off my head?" Cruchot grinned as he nodded. "It is a mistake," said Ah Cho, gravely. "I am not the Chinago that is to have his head cut off. I am Ah Cho. The honourable judge has determined that I am to stop twenty years in New Caledonia." The gendarme laughed. It was a good joke, this funny Chinago trying to cheat the guillotine.
It was twenty miles from Papeete to Atimaono, and over half the distance was covered by the time the Chinago again ventured into speech. "I saw you in the court room, when the honourable judge sought after our guilt," he began. "Very good. And do you remember that Ah Chow, whose head is to be cut off do you remember that he Ah Chow was a tall man? Look at me."
He was unaware of the error of the Chief Justice, and he had no way of working it out; but he did know that he had been given this Chinago to take to Atimaono and that it was his duty to take him to Atimaono. What if he was the wrong man and they cut his head off? It was only a Chinago when all was said, and what was a Chinago, anyway? Besides, it might not be a mistake.
"It must have been the jailer's mistake." "Then let's go on with it. They can't blame us. Who can tell one Chinago from another? We can say that we merely carried out instructions with the Chinago that was turned over to us. Besides, I really can't take all those coolies a second time away from their labour."
The Chinago was carrying the foolishness too far. "I am not Ah Chow " Ah Cho began. "That will do," the gendarme interrupted. He puffed up his cheeks and strove to appear fierce. "I tell you I am not " Ah Cho began again. "Shut up!" bawled Cruchot. After that they rode along in silence.
It is only a Chinago." The sergeant remembered the long ride before him, and the pearl-trader's daughter, and debated with himself. "They will blame it on Cruchot if it is discovered," the German urged. "But there's little chance of its being discovered. Ah Chow won't give it away, at any rate." "The blame won't lie with Cruchot, anyway," the sergeant said.
That blow of Schemmer's fist had been worth thousands of dollars to the Company, and no trouble ever came of it to Schemmer. The French, with no instinct for colonization, futile in their childish playgame of developing the resources of the island, were only too glad to see the English Company succeed. What matter of Schemmer and his redoubtable fist? The Chinago that died?
They worried about little things, and on occasion could out-toil even a Chinago. They were not temperate as Chinagos were temperate; they were gluttons, eating prodigiously and drinking more prodigiously. A Chinago never knew when an act would please them or arouse a storm of wrath. A Chinago could never tell. What pleased one time, the very next time might provoke an outburst of anger.
From them a Chinago rarely expected more than the unexpected. The heavy punishment for a crime they had not committed was no stranger than the countless strange things that white devils did. In the weeks that followed, Ah Cho often contemplated Ah Chow with mild curiosity. His head was to be cut off by the guillotine that was being erected on the plantation.
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