Hickory began to whimper, Patsey drew back, Polly alone stood her
ground, albeit with a trembling lip.

"Let's say our prayers and frighten it away," she said stoutly.

"No! no!" said Wan Lee, with a sudden alarm. "No frighten Spillits! You
waitee! Chinee boy he talkee Spillit not to frighten you."*

* The Chinese pray devoutly to the Evil Spirits NOT to
injure them.

Tucking his hands under his blue blouse, Wan Lee suddenly produced from
some mysterious recess of his clothing a quantity of red paper slips
which he scattered at the entrance of the cavern. Then drawing from the
same inexhaustible receptacle certain squibs or fireworks, he let them
off and threw them into the opening. There they went off with a slight
fizz and splutter, a momentary glittering of small points in the
darkness, and a strong smell of gunpowder. Polly gazed at the spectacle
with undisguised awe and fascination. Hickory and Patsey breathed hard
with satisfaction: it was beyond their wildest dreams of mystery and
romance. Even Wan Lee appeared transfigured into a superior being by the
potency of his own spells. But an unaccountable disturbance of some
kind in the dim interior of the tunnel quickly drew the blood from
their blanched cheeks again. It was a sound like coughing, followed by
something like an oath.

"He's made the Evil Spirit orful sick," said Hickory in a loud whisper.

A slight laugh, that to the children seemed demoniacal, followed.