In the evening, when it was growing dark, a tapping was heard at one of the ports in the captain's cabin; and both Tim and I were just on the point of firing, when, to our great surprise Ching Wang's well-known voice was heard.

"Chin, chin lilly pijjin! Comee one chop quick, me wantee talkee talkee. Lis'en me, an' you lickee kyfong number one go!"

"I thought he'd never turn traitor," cried Captain Gillespie emphatically; Tim Rooney adding with equal warmth, "Nor I, sorr. I've allers found the Chinee chap a good Oirishman ivery day he's bin' aboord!"

The upshot of Ching Wang's communication was, that the pirates were anxious to get all they could out of the ship and clear off; and, believing that he had joined them, they had sent him to negotiate terms with the captain, the pirate chief saying that he would spare all our lives if we would let him have what dollars there was on board and a ransom for the ship, on account, of course, of their not being able to get at the cargo.

Before Captain Gillespie could indignantly refuse making any terms with the rascals, Ching Wang proceeded to say that he had overheard the pirates saying that the reason for their violent hurry was that an English gunboat had been seen in the distance cruising off the mouth of the Canton river.

"Me gottee sampan," continued Ching Wang, declaring now his real motive. "Lilly pijjin squeezee one port, me go along findee gunboat an' catchee kyfong chop chop!"

"First rate," cried Mr Mackay, who acted as general interpreter, knowing the Chinaman's lingo well, explaining that the reason why Ching Wang had not gone off by himself in the sampan was that he did not know the right course to steer for the Canton river in the first place; and, secondly, he was afraid that the officers of the gunboat might not believe his story about the Silver Queen being assailed by pirates unless some European belonging to her accompanied him. "Nothing could have been more sensible, you see, cap'en; and Ching Wang's got his head screwed on straight."

"And where is this boat ye're going in?"

"Sampan, go long now," returned Ching Wang, motioning with his hand to the water below the stern. "Go long chop chop, soon lilly pijjin come down topside."

His selection of me, though apparently a very flattering one, was due to the fact of my being the only one capable of squeezing through the port, Weeks, who had grown awfully fat on the voyage, being incapable of accomplishing the feat, while all the rest of us were far too big.

"How will ye be able to steer for Canton?" asked Captain Gillespie sniffing—"even if ye know all about managing the boat?"

"Oh, sir," cried I, quite joyous at the idea of starting off on such an expedition and coming with a British gunboat to take the pirates by surprise and give them a licking, "Ching Wang'll see to the sampan, as he calls it, and I will steer, sir, if you give me the course, sir. I've got a little compass here on my watch chain."

"Humph!" he ejaculated; "I think ye'll do, boy. Ye're smart enough at any rate for the job; and, besides, there's no one else that can get through the port. Ye can go!"

"Thank you, sir," said I, grateful for even this semi-reluctant concession, being afraid he might refuse; and then, squeezing gingerly through the port and carefully lowering myself down by a rope which Tim Rooney hitched round the captain's bunk, I landed on the bottom boards of the boat that old Ching Wang had ready below.

I recollect well Tim's whispering softly as I let go my hold of the port sill, "Sure, now, take care av y'rsilf, Misther Gray-ham, sorr, an' don't forgit what the skipper's tould you about your coorse whin ye gits outsoide the rafe; ye're to steer nor'-nor'-west, wid a little more west in it, an' kape a good look-out for the blissid gunboat—an'—an' God bliss ye me bhoy, an' that's Tim Rooney's dyin' wish if ye niver say him ag'in!"



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

THE "BLAZER" TO THE RESCUE.

"Hist!" whispered Ching Wang softly, catching hold of my legs as I came down the rope to prevent my feet making a noise on touching the bottom of the sampan; while he carefully guided me into a seat in the stern- sheets. "Makee quiet, tyfong watchee. If catchee no go, all up topside!"

I hardly needed this caution; although, after receiving it I was as still as any mouse suddenly finding itself in the company of a cat unsuspicious of its presence could possibly be.

It was quite dark now, the hull of the ship looming faintly above us, a big black shadow, and the water was without a glimmer near, save where, just ahead, the light of a flare-up, which the pirates had kindled on the forecastle, shone out over the sea there, besides illuminating the island beach—where a number of black figures could be seen moving about opening some casks, which, Ching Wang explained to me, he had assisted in getting up from the forehold, so as to distract their attention from us for awhile; for, knowing that these casks contained salt pork, and being acquainted with the predilections of his countrymen for this dainty, he was certain they would have an orgy before proceeding to further hostilities.

This impression of the Chinaman proved to be quite correct; for not only did the pirates rout out the salt pork, but they immediately proceeded to cook it in Ching Wang's coppers, which were full of boiling water which he had got ready in the first instance for the purpose of throwing over the gentlemen as they boarded the ship. He had, however, subsequently changed his mind on this point, thinking that by adopting the guileless subtlety of his race and pretending to side with our enemies he might in the end be of more effectual service to us.

Of course the Chinaman did not mention to his new allies the original use for which the coppers were intended, as such candour on his part might have led to his getting into "hot water" and so spoilt his little plot, the complete success of which was further assured by his purloining Tim Rooney's private bottle of rum from his cabin in the deck-house, and bestowing it with his benediction on the stalwart Portuguese captain of the pirates. This gentleman, being partial to the liquor, enjoyed himself to such an extent over the unexpected treasure- trove, keeping it selfishly for his own gratification, that he was more than "half-seas-over" ere his rascally fellow cut-throats had begun their pork feast; so, he was equally disinclined with them for further active operations against the ship, the captain and crew of which he regarded for the moment in a most benevolent spirit on account of their having saved him the trouble of making them captive, probably at the expense of several lives on his side, by locking themselves in the cabin below of their own accord!

I got out all this by degrees from Ching Wang, as, paddling in the most noiseless fashion across the lagoon where it was darkest, and carefully avoiding the other junks anchored out in the middle, he directed the course of the sampan towards the opening in the reef. This became all the more distinct as we got near its edge from the phosphorescent glitter of the surf breaking over the coral ledge, excepting at the place where the Silver Queen had steered through the rocks and breakers and entered the calm sheet of water within.

The pirates ashore on the island and on board the junks were all too busy to notice us, and indeed their eyes must have been wonderfully acute to have done so through the darkness that enveloped sky and sea alike, swallowing our little barque up in its folds; so, when we got well outside the reef and beyond the line of breakers Ching Wang put up a small sprit-sail, which he had been thoughtful enough to take out of the long-boat when he had secured the sampan, rigging it on top of one of his oars, and stepping it forward like a lug.

We then kept the wind which we knew was south-west on our port hand and pretty well abeam, steering as nearly as we could guess to the northward and westward, according to Captain Gillespie's directions to me; for there was not light sufficient yet to see my little pocket-compass so as to take the proper bearings for making a straight course to fetch the mouth of the Canton river.

When daylight came, fortunately, not a trace of the reef or the ship and pirate craft could be seen, though Ching Wang peered over our starboard quarter, where we ought to have sighted any trace of them, while I shinned up the little mast too for a better look-out.

Nothing was to be seen, not even a passing sail—only the rolling sea far and wide as far as the eye could reach, now lit up by the early dawn and rose-coloured in the east, where the sun, just rising above the horizon, was flooding the heavens with crimson tints, that presently changed to gold and then gave place to their normal hue of azure. This the ocean reflected with a glorious blue, seeming to be but one huge sapphire, except where crystal foam flecked it here and there from the topping of some impatient wavelet not content to roll along in peace till it reached the shore.

I could, of course, look at my compass now, and I noticed that by keeping the wind abeam we had been working in the right direction during the night, the head of the sampan now facing pretty nearly nor'-nor'- west, "and a little westerly too," as Tim Rooney enjoined on me at parting.

Ching Wang told me in his pigeon English that we must have already run from thirty to forty miles—"one hunled li," he said; so, we had therefore accomplished a quarter of our journey towards the coast.

The sun rose higher and higher, until it was almost over our heads at noon, when the wind dropping I found it very hot. Besides the discomfort of this the fact of our not getting on so fast as previously made me anxious about those we had left behind, although the Chinaman told me the pirates would not be likely to start fighting again until it was getting towards evening, which was their favourite time for attack, as they always kept quiet in the day.

They would, he said, be especially afraid now of making a row in the day more than at any other time, for fear of the sound of the fray being heard by the gunboat, which they knew was cruising about near.

"I only wish we could see it now, Ching Wang," I cried, thinking that before we got to the Canton river and returned with the man-of-war, all our shipmates might be murdered and the poor Silver Queen set fire to by the ruffians after pillaging her, as they would be certain to do when Captain Gillespie and the brave fellows with him could hold out no longer. "I only wish we could sight her now."

"You waitee, lilly pijjin," said he. "Bimeby soon comee."

It was dreary work, though, waiting, for we were going along very slowly on the torpid sea, which seemed to swelter in the heat as the breeze fell; but about two o'clock in the afternoon the south-west wind springing up again, we once more began dancing on through the water at a quicker rate, the sampan making better progress by putting her right before wind and slacking off the sheet of our transformed sprit-sail. An hour later, Ching Wang, who had gone into the bows to look out, leaving me at the tiller, suddenly called out:

"Hi, lilly pijjin!" he shouted, gesticulating and showing more excitement than he had ever displayed before, his disposition generally being phlegmatic in the extreme. "One big smokee go long. Me see three piecee bamboo walkee, chop chop!"

I rose up in the stern-sheets equally excited; and there, to my joy, I saw right ahead and crossing our beam, a small three-masted vessel, showing the white ensign and blood cross of Saint George, the most beautiful flag in the world, I thought.

It was the gunboat, without doubt.

She had sighted us long before we noticed her; and seeing from our altering our course now that we desired to speak her, she downed her helm and was soon alongside the sampan.

Breathless, I clambered on board, a smart blue-jacket with "HMS Blazer" printed in gold letters on the ribbon of his straw hat, handing me the sidelines of the accommodation ladder, which reached far enough down for me to step on to it from the gunwale of the sampan; and when the lieutenant in command of the gunboat, a handsome fellow like Mr Mackay, addressed me, I could not at first speak from emotion.

But my mission was too important to be delayed, and I soon found my voice; a very few words being sufficient to explain all the circumstances of the case to the lieutenant.

"Full speed ahead!" he called out to the officer on the bridge, as soon as he had heard me out, directing also the blue-jacket who had received me at the entry port to pass the word down that he wanted to speak to the gunner; while Ching Wang was invited to come on board and the sampan veered astern by its painter and taken in tow.

The lieutenant turned to me when these orders had been given, although he did not keep me half a minute waiting; and, calling me by my name, which I had told him, said, "We shall be up to the pirates before nightfall, Mr Graham, for the old Blazer can go ten knots on an emergency like this. I've no doubt we'll be in plenty of time to rescue your shipmates before they have another brush with the pirates."

He then invited me to go below and have some refreshment; but I was too anxious about those on board the poor Silver Queen to care about eating then. However, I took a nice long drink of some delicious lemonade with pleasure, for I was so thirsty that my tongue had swollen to the roof of my mouth; while Ching Wang, who had recovered his usual placid and imperturbable demeanour, accepted the hospitalities of the crew with great complacency, his emotion not affecting his appetite at any rate.

If I did not care about eating, though, I was highly interested in the preparation of the Blazer presently for action, her five-inch breech- loaders being loaded with Palliser shell and the hoppers of her machine- guns filled; while the crew with rifles in their hands and cutlasses by their side mustered at quarters.

"I think, Mr Graham," said the lieutenant, noticing my admiring gaze, "we'll be able to teach your Malay friends something of a lesson—eh?"

"I hope so, sir," I replied. "I don't think there's much thinking about it, though. I'm only afraid they'll run away before we can reach them."

"No fear of that," said he laughing. "The Blazer, as I've told you, can travel fast when we want her; and if she's not fast enough, why, that gun there on the sponson forrud can send a speedier messenger in advance of her, to tell the pirates she's coming!"

"Will it reach them inside the reef, sir?"

"Reach them inside the reef!" he repeated after me in a quizzing sort of way. "Of course it will, my lad, and further too. That gun will carry seven miles at an elevation of less than forty-five degrees!"

"Oh, crickey!" I exclaimed; whereat he and the other officers laughed at my astonishment, which my face betrayed, of course, as usual. The crew, though, who were near were too well trained to laugh, except according to orders. Being men-o'-war's men, they only smiled at my ejaculation.

It was getting on for sunset when we sighted the Pratas shoal, the masts of the Silver Queen being seen much further off than the reef, although I forgot to mention that her sails of course had been furled after she grounded; and, as we got nearer and nearer, we did not hear any noise of rifle shots, or the junks' matchlocks, as would have been the case if they had been fighting again—my comrades I was certain would die dearly.

I hoped that they had not begun yet; for I could not bear to think that their fate might have been sealed in my absence, and all those brave fellows, perhaps, been butchered by the pirates!

Closing in upon the reef and making for the entrance on the south-west side, we noticed that boats were passing to and fro between the junks and the ship.

Just then a puff of smoke came from the stern of the ship, followed by the sound of a rifle shot in the distance, after which followed a regular fusillade of musketry fire.

The lieutenant had meanwhile not been idle, the man-of-war's launch and pinnace having been lowered with their nine-pounders in the bows, all primed and loaded; and, on my getting after him in the pinnace, he gave the order to pull in towards the scene of action, the gunboat meanwhile bringing her big Armstrongs to bear on the fleet of junks in the middle of the lagoon, only waiting until we got well up to the ship before firing so as to take the pirates by surprise.

I cannot describe the feeling I had as we dashed forward, the thought of checkmating the bloodthirsty scoundrels and saving my shipmates being too great to be expressed by words.

Ching Wang, whom the lieutenant allowed to come in the pinnace with me, also looked wonderfully excited again, for one generally so phlegmatic:—he seemed really to turn his back on the traditions of his race.

We, though, rushed forwards; and, when close to the Silver Queen, the lieutenant ordered the captain of the gun in the bows to "fire!" into a junk that was coming round under her stern.

"Bang!" and a shell burst right in the centre of the junk's bamboo deck, sending forty of the villains at least to Hades, for she was crowded with men. A wild yell of surprise came from the pirates at the report of the gun, succeeded by a faint hurrah from those on board the Silver Queen. This told us that Captain Gillespie and the rest now knew, from the second report caused by the bursting of the shell, that their rescuers had at last arrived, in the very nick of time.

Then a big boom rolled in from seaward as the gunboat opened fire with her five-inch Armstrong, shell and shot being pitched into the group of junks as fast as those on board the Blazer could load; the launch and pinnace, with Ching Wang and myself in the latter, pulling to the ship and boarding her on both sides at the same time.

Captain Gillespie and all the hands who had been intrenched in the cabin, now burst out of their prison; and after this, those pirates who were not cut down by the men's cutlasses or shot, surrendered at discretion, as did also their brother scoundrels on the island and in the junks, who were all caught completely in a trap, there being no creeks here for them to smuggle their boats into, nor mountain fastnesses to retreat to, the gunboat commanding the only way of escape open to them, and her launch and pinnace within the lagoon having them at their mercy.

"Begorra I am plaized to say you ag'in, Misther Gray-ham, sorr!" cried Tim Rooney, wringing my hand again and again as Mr Mackay released it— all the poor fellows who had been relieved from almost instant death by the coming of the gunboat seeming to think that I had brought about their rescue, whereas, of course it was Ching Wang who ought to be thanked, if anybody had to be praised, beyond Him above who had sent us on our mission and brought the Blazer up in time. Tim, too, was even more absurd about the whole matter than any of the rest.—"Bedad, you've saved us all, sorr," said he again and again; and I could only get him off this unpleasant tack by asking what further damage the pirates had done after I left.

They had not done much, he said, their leader having only just succeeded in breaking open the main-hold, and just beginning another attack on the cabin, when the report of the shell from the Blazer's pinnace as it burst made the pirates scramble overboard for their lives.

"But, sure, I caught that chafe villain av theirs, at last, Misther Gray-ham."

"Oh, did you!" I cried. "That chap in the red sash?"

"Aye, I kilt him as de'd as mutton jist now by the dor av me cabin in the deck-house, where, would ye belaive me, sorr, the thaife wor drainin' the last dhrop av grog out av me rhum bottle!"

"He didn't steal it though," said I, telling him all about Ching Wang's plot for making the rascal drunk; whereat Tim was highly delighted, patting the Chinaman on the back as the latter blandly smiled and beamed upon him, not understanding a word he said. After this matter was settled I bethought me of my bird "Dick."—"And how about the starling?"

"Oh, that's all roight," said Tim. "He scramed out 'Bad cess to ye' whin he saw the ugly pirate cap'en fall, an' sure, that wor as sinsible as a Christian."

Everybody had got off pretty well, the majority only having a few slight scratches and flesh wounds; all, save, of course, the three of the hands who had been killed on deck in the first attack, and poor Mr Saunders, who, Tim said, was sinking fast.

He did not die yet awhile, though, having a wonderful constitution and persisting in eating and living where another man would have expired long since.

And the ship? She wasn't lost after all, as might have been thought, albeit ashore there on Prata Island and inside the reef. Oh, no. Mr Mackay managed it all, and surprised everybody by the way he did it— making even Lieutenant Toplift of the Blazer open his eyes.

I'll tell you what he did.—Our chief mate battened down two of the pirate junks, making them water-tight, and then, weighting them with heavy ballast till their decks were almost flush with the water, he made them fast under the bows of the ship.

The ballast was then taken out of them, when, of course, as they floated higher they lifted the Silver Queen; and a stream anchor being then got out astern she was floated out into the lagoon, where on subsequent examination she was found pretty water-tight below and staunch and sound all round.

To get her out of the lagoon, the passage through the reef was well buoyed and the ship lightened of her cargo, a large portion of which was taken out of her and stowed in the junks.

She was then kedged over the reef, as Tim Rooney had suggested to Mr Mackay in the first instance as the best plan; the Blazer's officers and crew helping us to get her outside, and afterwards assisting us in loading her up again.

Then, our dear old barquey sailed for Hongkong, where she put in for temporary repair so as to be able to prosecute the remainder of her voyage, and here poor Mr Saunders died at last, and was laid to rest in "Happy Valley," the English burying-place, that has such a poetical name and such sad surroundings!

We were detained nearly a month here docking, and during our stay Captain Gillespie rejoiced all hands by rewarding them for their pluck in fighting and floating the ship again with the present of a month's wages for a spree ashore. "Old Jock" could well afford to be liberal, too; for a native speculator gave him a better price for the balance of his marmalade than he would have realised if he had fed the men on it throughout our home voyage.

Our repairs and refit being at last completed we set sail for Shanghai, casting anchor in the Yang-tse-kiang eight days exactly after our leaving Hongkong.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

HOMEWARD BOUND.

"Bedad, sorr, it sames I'm dhramin', sure," observed Tim Rooney to Mr Mackay as the two now stood together on the forecastle, looking out over the hows. "It's moighty loike the ould river; an' I'd a'most fancy I wor home ag'in, an' not in Chainee at all at all!"

"You're not far wrong, bosun," replied Mr Mackay, smiling at his remark, or rather at the quaint way in which it was made. "I can fancy the same thing myself, the appearance of the Yang-tse-kiang hereabouts being strangely like that of the Thames just below Greenhithe."

I, overhearing their conversation, thought the same too; for, although, of course, there was no dome of Saint Paul's in the distance, nor forests of masts, nor crowds of steamers passing to and fro, nor all that bustle of business and din and dense black smoke from those innumerable funnels that distinguishes the waterway which forms the great heart artery of London, still there were many points of resemblance between the two—the show of shipping opposite Shanghai, where we lay, being almost as fair as that which is to be seen sometimes at the mouth of the Thames on a fine day, when it blows from the south and there are many wind-bound craft waiting to get down Channel.

The sampans and other native boats, darting about hither and thither in shoals, somewhat made up for the absence of the panting tugs and paddle steamers plying on the former stream, albeit there was no deficiency here either of Fulton's invention, steamers running regularly a distance of more than seven hundred miles up the Yang-tse-kiang; and, as for houses and the signs of a numerous population, there were plenty of these, although different to the bricks and mortar structures of our more accustomed eyes in England, with the peaks of pagodas doing duty for church spires, while the paddy fields planted with rice on either hand offered a very good imitation of the low-lying banks of our great mother river along the Essex shore.

"Aye, it's the very image, an' as loike as two pays," reiterated Tim Rooney on my joining the two. "Don't ye think so, too, Misther Gray- ham?"

"I wish you would leave the 'ham' out of my name!" I replied laughing, but a bit vexed all the same. "I think you might by this time, it's getting quite a stale joke."

"Faix, I dunno what ye manes, sorr," he replied, pretending to be puzzled, but the wink in his eye showing clearly that this density of his mental powers on the point was only assumed. "Sure, an' I can't hilp me brogue, ye know, if ye manes that?"

"Nobody says you can," said I rather shortly; for one or two of the hands by the windlass bitts were grinning, as well as Sam Weeks who was standing by, too, and I did not like being made fun of before them. "No one could mistake you for anything else but a Paddy all the world over!"

"Begorra, an' I'm proud av that very same, Misther Gray-ham," he retorted, not one whit put out by my words, as I imagined he would be. "If other folks had as little to be ashamed av, it's a blissid worrld sure this'd be, an' we'd be all havin' our wings sproutin' an' sailin' aloft, loike the swate little cheroob, they says, looks arter poor Jack!"

A general laugh followed this; and the captain just then coming out of his cabin, where he had been busy getting all his papers and bills of lading together, and ordering the jolly-boat to be lowered to pull him ashore, Tim turned away to see to the job—so, he had the best of me in our little skirmish, albeit we were nevertheless good friends afterwards.

In the afternoon, Captain Gillespie came off to the ship again, with a gang of coolies under a native comprador. These were sent by the consignees to help discharge the cargo into a lot of small junks that they brought alongside; but the Chinamen made a poor show, contrasting their work with that of our stalwart able-bodied tars, one of whom thought nothing of handling a big crate as it was hoisted out of the hold which it took ten of the others merely to look at.

Fortunately, only a few boxes of the Manchester stuffs that were stowed in our fore compartment were found damaged by the sea, the rest of the goods being in good condition, and the cargo generally as sound as when it came on board in the docks; a result which afforded "Old Jock" much satisfaction, as he had feared the worst. The only loss, therefore, the owners would have to suffer would be the small amount of our freight that had been jettisoned when the ship first went ashore on the Pratas, the cargo that had subsequently been taken out to lighten her before getting her off the shoal having been carefully preserved.

"'All's well that ends well,'" cried he, rubbing his hands and sniffing and snorting, when the people ashore reported this after a systematic examination of all the bales and stuff. "I told ye so, Mackay, I told ye so; and when I say a thing, ye know, I mean a thing."

"I'm sure, I'm only too glad everything has turned out right," replied the first mate, smiling to himself, though, at "Jock's" assertion of having prognosticated this favourable issue, the contrary being the case; for, he'd been grumbling all the way from Hongkong about the salvage to be paid, and compensation to the consignees for deterioration of the cargo, besides perhaps demurrage for late delivery, the ship arriving at Shanghai more than a month beyond her time. "'All's well that ends well,' as you say, sir; and I only hope we'll soon have a freight back which will recoup any loss the owners may have suffered from the mishaps of our voyage out."

But, hoping for a thing, and having it, are two very different things.

It was the middle of July when we finally reached Shanghai, and it took us, with the slow way of going to work of the Chinese coolies and their comprador and the people ashore and all, a good three weeks to unload our cargo; so that, by the time we had the hold swept out and got ready below for the reception of a freight of tea promised the captain, lo and behold we found we were too late, for the consignment intended for us was now well on its way home in another vessel. This latter, however, we were told in excuse for our disappointment, had been waiting longer for a cargo than us, having been lying in the river since May, and only starting off as we commenced discharging.

We were cheered up, though, by the hope of having a cargo of the second season tea, which the shore folk said was expected in the town from up country shortly; which "shortly" proved to be of the most elastic properties, it being September before we received authoritative information of our expected freight being at last at Shanghai and ready for shipment.

When it came, though, we did not lose much time in getting it on board and stowed, even Tom Jerrold and I working under hatches.

"Begorra, we'll show them poor craythurs," cried Tim Rooney, bracing himself up for the task and baring his sinewy arms with much gusto as he buckled to the job, setting the hands a worthy example to follow. "Aye, we'll jist show them what we calls worruk in our counthry, me darlints. Won't we, boys?"

"Aye, aye," roared out the men, all anxious to set sail and see Old England again; sailors being generally the most restless mortals under the sun, and never satisfied at being long in one place. "Aye, aye, bo, we will!"

And they did, too, "Old Jock" rubbing his hands and snorting and sniffing in fine glee as the tea-chests were rattled up out of the junks alongside and lowered into the hold, where they underwent even a greater amount of squeezing and jamming together than our original cargo out, the process of compression being helped on by the aid of the jack-screws and the port watch under Mr Mackay—who now superintended the stowage of the cargo, in place of poor Mr Saunders. No one, apparently, save the faithful Tim Rooney, gave a thought to the latter, now resting in his quiet tomb in Happy Valley!

"Bedad, we miss our ould sickond mate, sorr," I heard him say to Mr Mackay, who was a little strange to the job, having had nothing to do in the stowing line for some time, his duties as first mate being more connected with the navigation of the ship. "He wor a powerful man to ate, sure; but he knew his way about the howld av a vissil, sorr, that same."

"That means, I suppose, bosun," replied Mr Mackay laughing and coughing as the tea-dust caught his breath, "that I don't—eh?"

"Be jabers, no, sorr," protested Tim; "I niver maned to say that, sorr, aven if I thought it. But poor ould Misther Saunders samed, sorr, to take koindly to this sort av worruk, betther nor navigatin'; which he weren't a patch on alongside av you, sorr, as ivery hand aboard knows."

"Get out with your blarney," said Mr Mackay good-humouredly, urging the crew on to fresh exertions by way of changing the topic. "If we stop jawing here long we'll never sail from Shanghai before next year. Put your hearts in it, men, and let us get all stowed and be done with it."

"Look aloive," yelled the boatswain, following suit; "an' hurry up wid thim chistesses—one'd think ye wor goin' to make the job last a month av Sundays, sore!"

They "hurried up" with a vengeance; so that, before the week was out, the tea was all stowed and the hatches battened down, with the ship quite ready to sail as soon as Captain Gillespie got all his permits and papers from the shore—of which latter, by the way, I may confess, Tom Jerrold and I got tired at last.

I had received no less than three letters from home, all in a batch, when we got to Shanghai, one also coming after we arrived, telling me about father and them all; and it seemed, as I read of their doings at the vicarage and what went on at Westham, as if it had been years since I left England, instead of only six months or so passing by; the change of life and all that had happened making me feel ever so much older.

However, reading these dear home letters made me long all the more to get back and see them again; and, in anticipation of this, you may be certain I did not forget to make a good collection of nice things for mother and my sister Nellie, as well as some "curios" for father, such as he had promised in my name when the letter came which made my mother grieve so, telling that all the arrangements had been completed for my going to sea,—do you recollect?

Yes; and besides the curios I myself bought ashore, I had one given me, at the very last moment before we left the Yang-tse-kiang, by Ching Wang, who, much to the surprise of all, said he wasn't going back in the Silver Queen—not, at all events, this voyage, he made the captain understand, being desirous of remaining at Shanghai until the next year.

"Me likee lilly gal, she likee me," he explained with his bland vacuous smile and his little beady eyes twinkling. "Me wifoo get chop chop. Two men not stop one placee—no go ship and 'top shore too."

"You rascal!" shouted "Old Jock" in a rage, "you served me just the same trick the voyage before last. You'd better come with us now, for I'm hanged if I give you the chance again."

"No, cap'en," grinned the imperturbable Chinaman, "no can do."

So, amidst the chaff of the men, who asserted that Ching Wang must have about fifty wives by this time at various ports, considering the number of times he had contracted matrimonial engagements, he went over the side into a sampan he had waiting for him, smiling blandly to the last, and giving me as a parting present the little brass figure of Buddha which he worshipped as his deity. This was a sure token of the strong affection he entertained for me, his "lilly pijjin," as he always called me from the time that Tim Rooney had commended me to his good graces.

"He'll come back with us next trip," said Mr Mackay, as he with all of us gave Ching Wang a parting "chin chin" on the celestial cook being presently rowed ashore in great state, sitting in the stern-sheets of his sampan and beaming on us with his bland smile as long as his round face could be distinguished, dwindling away in the distance till it finally disappeared. "I'm sorry to lose him, though, sir, for he was a capital cook, besides being a plucky fellow. Recollect how he helped to save all our lives the other day, as well as the ship and cargo."

"Humph!" grunted "Old Jock," who appeared to have forgotten this. "He's served us a shabby trick now, by going off like that at the last moment, and I've half a mind not to have any truck with him again."

"Ha, ha, cap'en," laughed Mr Mackay, "you said so last time, don't you remember? Yet, you brought him aboard again with the other hands before we started from Gravesend this trip. You're too good-natured to bear in mind all the hard things you say sometimes."

"Perhaps I am, Mackay, perhaps I am," sniggered and snorted "Old Jock," thinking this a high compliment. "Though, when I say a thing, I mean a thing, you know."

Ching Wang, when he got ashore, did not forget his old friends and leave us altogether in the lurch; for he sent off a black cook, a native of Jamaica, one Tippoo by name, to take his place; and as a messenger from the brokers on shore came off at the same time with the ship's papers, nothing now delayed our departure from Shanghai.

Then was heard Tim Rooney's piercing whistle once more on board, and the welcome—thrice welcome cry:

"All ha-a-nds make sail!"

The topsails were soon loosed by one watch, while the other hove up the anchor in fine style to the chorus of "Down in the lowlands, oh!"

"Up and down!" cried Matthews on the forecastle, taking poor Saunders' place here, for he was now doing duty as second mate, although he had not yet passed the Trinity House examination for the post. "Anchor's up and down, sir!"

"Then heave and paul!" answered Mr Mackay from the poop, calling out at the same time to the men standing by the halliards: "Sheet home and hoist away!"

In another minute, the topsails were dropped and the yards hoisted, the jib run up and the spanker set; when, as our anchor cleared the ground, soon peeping over our bows and being catted and fished in the old fashion, the Silver Queen's canvas filled and she bade adieu to China with a graceful curtsy, making her way down the Yang-tse-kiang at a rate that showed she was as glad as those on board her to lose sight of its yellow waters at last!

It was the 14th September when we sailed; and, although it was rather early in the year for it, the nor'-east monsoon had already begun to blow, fine and dry and cold, bowling us down through the Formosa Channel and into the China Sea beyond, "as if ould Nick war arter us," as Tim Rooney said.

In our progress past the same latitudes in which we had previously encountered such perils, we now met with nothing of interest; steering south by the Strait of Gaspar—to the other side of the island of Banca, instead of by our former route when coming up—we navigated Sunda the same day, getting out into the Indian Ocean at the beginning of October.

Shaping a course from here to pass about a hundred miles to the southward of Madagascar, our nor'-east wind changing to a nor'-westward in 15 degrees south latitude, which was all the more favourable for us, we were able to fetch the Cape of Good Hope in forty-three days from our start. Our passage round the stormy headland was now comparatively easy, being aided by the strong current that comes down the African coast through the Mozambique, and so did not cost us any bother at all, as we had fine weather all the time until we turned into the Atlantic.

From the Cape to the Channel we made a splendid passage, sighting the Lizard on the 20th December and getting into dock on the afternoon of the 22nd of the month. Strange to say, too, we were towed up from the Downs by our old friend the Arrow, just as we were towed down the river at starting on our eventful voyage.

Captain Gillespie gave me leave to go home the next day, telling me he would write when the ship would be ready again for another trip early in the following year; and so, bidding my mess-mates a cordial farewell, I was soon in a train on my way to Westham once more, with "Dick" the starling in a bran new wicker cage I had bought for him at Shanghai, as well as my sea-chest packed full of presents for the home-folk and everybody.

It was late in the afternoon of Christmas-eve when I reached the old well-known little station, which seemed to look ever so much smaller than when I left; and the very first person I saw whom I knew—none of my people coming to meet me, as they did not know when I would arrive, not expecting me indeed until the next morning—was Lawyer Sharpe, as ferrety-looking as ever!

He gave me a hearty greeting, however, saying he was glad to see me back again, and to have "ocular demonstration," as he expressed it, that I had not been lost at sea as was reported; so, I recalled what father had said when I had turned up my nose at the legal profession, and thought Mr Sharpe no doubt was misjudged by a good many, and might not be altogether such a tricky customer as the Westham folks made out.

Leaving my traps at the station to be sent on by a porter, only taking Dick's cage with me, I was soon trotting along through the village, passing old Doctor Jollop on my way. He, too, was the very same as ever, without the slightest alteration, muddy boots and all; for, although there was a little sprinkling of snow on the ground, as befitted the season, it had thawed in the streets of Westham, and as a matter of course the doctor, who always appeared to choose the very muddiest of places to tramp in, had managed to collect as much of the mire as he could on his boots and legs.

But, mud or no mud, he was a jolly kind old fellow, and more really pleased again to see me than—even with the most charitable feelings I must say it—Lawyer Sharpe pretended to be.

"Just back in time, Allan, for the plum-pudding," he called out on seeing me. "Eh, my boy, eh?"

"Yes, sir," said I, laughing as I shook hands with him. "Just in time for it."

"And the pills, too," he added, chuckling as he went into a cottage close by. "And the pills, too; you mustn't forget them."

Nasty old fellow, as if I wished to be reminded of anything so disagreeable at such a moment!

The next instant, however, I was at the vicarage gate, when Nellie, who was on the watch, although as I've said I was not expected till next day, flew out of the porch and had her arms round my neck, with my mother after her and father and my brother Tom, too—the latter bringing up the rear, his dignity not allowing him to hurry himself too much; and what with meeting and greeting these all thoughts of Doctor Jollop and his pills and everything else were banished from my mind—everything, save the delicious feeling of being at home again.

"And what have you here, Allan?" inquired sister Nellie when all the kissing and hugging was over, and I'd asked and answered at least a thousand questions. "A bird?"

"Yes, a starling," said I, introducing Dick and telling them his history as we all went back into the house, keeping this a surprise and not mentioning about the little beggar in my letter from Shanghai. "I've brought him home for you, Nellie."

"Oh, thank you, Allan," she cried, hugging me again. "What a dear little fellow!"

"Ah, wait till you hear him talk," said I, speaking to Dick and giving him my old whistle, "Dick, Dick!"

"Hullo!" cracked the starling, so comically, in Tim Rooney's voice that they all burst out laughing, "here's a jolly row!"

Dick then whistled a couple of bars, which was all he could accomplish, of "Tom Bowling," after which he ejaculated his favourite expression, "Bad cess to ye!" in such a faithful imitation of my friend the boatswain's manner that father smiled with the rest; although he said drily, "Your bird, Nellie, I hope will learn better language when he has been amongst us a bit longer!"

My chest arriving presently from the station, I had the happiness of showing them all that I had forgotten none when away; for I had got a Mandarin hat for Tom, and two old china jars I had brought for mother delighting her heart, while Ching Wang's idol which I gave father especially pleased him. He became, too, I may add, all the more deeply interested in this little idol when I told him all the circumstances connected with it, and the impression the Chinaman's devotion to his god had made on me.

I have little further to say, having now given a full, true, and faithful account of my first voyage; although I might point out to you that I was no longer a "green" apprentice, but now able to "reef, hand, and steer," as "Old Jock," or rather Captain Gillespie to speak more respectfully of him, said when I was leaving the ship, expressing the hope of having me with him on his next trip out, as I "had the makings of a sailor" in me, and was "beginning to be worth my salt."

I had told father, though, so much about Tim Rooney, recounting all his kindness to me on board the Silver Queen from almost the first moment I saw him—almost, but not quite, the commencement of our first interview having been rather alarming to me—that nothing would suit him but my friend Tim's coming down to Westham for a short visit, if only for a day.

Of course, I wrote to him, inclosing a letter father sent inviting him, and Tim came next day prompt as usual in his sailor fashion, winning all the hearts at the vicarage before he had been an hour in the place.

Father naturally thanked him for all that he had done for me, which made the bashful boatswain blush, while he deprecated all mention of his care of me.

"Bedad, sorr," said he to father in his raciest brogue, and with that suspicion of mirth which seemed always to hover about his left eye, "it wor quite a plisure, sure, to sarve him; for he's the foorst lad I iver came across as took so koindly to the thrade. 'Dade an' sure, sorr, I belaive he don't think none the worse av it now, by the same token; an' would give the same anser, sorr, to what I've axed him more nor once since he foorst came aboord us. Faix, I'll ax him now, your riverince. Ain't ye sorry, Misther Gray-ham, as how ye iver wint to say, now?"

"No, not a bit of it," replied I sturdily, in the same way as I had always done to his stereotyped inquiry. "And I'll go again cheerfully as soon as the Silver Queen is ready again for her next voyage."

"There ye are, sorr!" cried Tim admiringly. "He's a raal broth av a boy entoirely. Sure, he'll be a man afore his mother yit, sorr!"

THE END.