"And what shall we have to pay him?"

"P'laps nothing 'tall."

"Oh, nonsense!" I said. "We must pay him the proper fare."

"Velly well, pay him ploper money."

I anticipated trouble, but when we got to the side and a dollar was handed to the man, his heavy round face lit up with pleasure, and he said something aloud.

"What does he say, Ching?" I asked.

"Say velly glad, and didn't tink he get anything 'tall."

We made the best of our way below, fully expecting that, if the captain and Mr Reardon saw us, they would take us to task for being at the execution, and ask; us how we dared to follow them there. But, as luck had it, they had been too much occupied by the horrible affair in progress, and our presence had escaped them. But it was a long while before I could get the scene out of my head or think of our trip ashore that day as anything but a horrible mistake.



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

"MAN OVERBOARD."

It was a great relief to us all to find that our visit to the Chinese prison had not been noticed. We of course kept silence about it, not even telling Mr Brooke, who was the most friendly of our officers, and we had the satisfaction of finding that Ching obeyed our orders, and kept his peace.

I used to be rather sorry for him, his position being so solitary on board. For he could not make himself at home with the sailors in the forecastle, and though as frank, good-hearted fellows as ever lived, they seemed to look upon him only in one way, that of being a butt for their sharp witticisms, an object upon whom they were to play practical jokes.

Consequently I used often, when I found him standing alone by the bulwarks watching the shore, to edge up to him, and stop to talk; our conversation being directed by me toward some little unpleasantry in the forecastle, which if he had complained about to the first lieutenant, there would have been a severe reprimand.

I remember one of these occasions, when Ching came flying up out of the hatch, followed by a roar of laughter, and as he reached the deck, clang-clang went something against the sides of the hatch; but Ching paid no heed, running forward till he was right up by the side of the bowsprit.

I followed quickly, feeling angry on the man's behalf.

"What's the matter?" I cried. "What have they been doing?"

"No know," he said rather pitifully, as he stood there trembling. "Done something. Thlow tin-kettle after."

"But what for? What were you doing?"

"Doing? fass 'sleep, dleam 'bout big fly come and bite leg. Jump up and lun. Then thlow kettle after."

"Here, let's look," I said; for as he shook his head there was the same hollow sound again, just like that made by a tin sheep-bell.

"Why, they've tied it to you," I said sharply.

"Tie to Ching flock? Don't matter. Not bess blue silkee."

"Here, let me see," I cried. "Turn round."

He turned sharply, and something banged against the bulwark.

"What a shame!" I cried. "They've tied the old canister to your tail."

"Tie canny all along Ching tow-chang?" he cried.

"Yes, and it's a rascally shame."

"Yes, allee lascally shame," he said, nodding his head. "Not hurt velly. Only flighten velly much, makee lun fass."

"Stand still, and I'll soon have it off," I cried, whipping out my knife.

"No, no," he cried, dragging the long plait from my hand; "mightee cut tow-chang, and that velly dleadful. Take long time glow."

"Very well, then. I'll unfasten it, and show it to Mr Reardon."

"What for? make Mis' Leardon velly angly, scold jolly sailor boy. Then they not like Ching 'tall."

"But it's too bad; treating you just as if you were a dog."

"Jolly sailor boy tie tin-pot dog tow-chang? No. Mr Hellick make laugh. Dog not got tow-chang."

"No," I said, trying very hard to get the pot off, "but dogs have got tails."

"Yes, got tails. Don't tellee, make no good. Didn't hurt Ching."

"But it's an insult to you," I said. "Any one would think they were a pack of boys."

"Yes, jolly sailor boy. You no makee come off?"

"No," I said. "They've made a big hole through the bottom of the canister, pushed the end of the tail—"

"Tow-chang."

"Well, tow-chang, if you like to call it so—through into the inside, and then hammered the tin back round it and made it as fast as fast. Here, I shall have to cut it, Ching."

"No, no," he cried, seizing the canister. "No cuttee piece of tow-chang."

"Then how are we to get it off?"

"Don't know, Mr Hellick; look velly bad?"

"Horrible—absurd; every one will laugh at you."

"Yes, velly bad. Ching put it in pocket."

"Oh, you're there, are you?" I cried, as Tom Jecks came cautiously on deck. "I should have thought that a man of your years would have known better than to help torment this poor Chinaman."

"Not velly poor," he whispered. "Ching got fancee shop. Plenty plize-money now."

"Didn't have nought to do with it," growled Tom Jecks.

"Then who did, sir?"

"Dunno, sir; some o' the boys. I was caulking till they wakened me wi' laughing."

"But you saw it done?"

"No, sir; it was all done aforehand. They'd turned his tail into a bull-roarer, and if you was to swing it round now like a windmill, it would make no end of a row."

"Silence, sir," I cried. "It's disgraceful."

"Lor', sir, they on'y meant it for a bit of a lark."

"Then they should lark among themselves, and not take advantage of a poor foreigner whom they ought to protect."

"Yes, sir, that's right enough. But he were asleep, and it didn't hurt him till one on 'em stuck a pin in his leg to waken him up."

"Ah!" I cried. "Who did?"

"Well, sir," said Tom Jecks. "Now you do puzzle me above a bit. It was one o' the lads, because the pin must have gone into his leg, for he squeaked out and then run up the ladder with the tin-pot banging about right and left, but who it was stuck that pin in, it were so dark that I couldn't say."

"You mean that you won't say, Tom?"

"Well, sir, you're orficer, and I'm on'y AB, and I shan't contradict you; have it that way if you like."

"I shall say no more, but we'll see what Mr Reardon says when he hears about it."

"Why, Mr Herrick, sir, yo' wouldn't go and tell upon the poor lads, would you? It were on'y a bit of a game, were it, Mr Ching?"

"No, only bit game," said the Chinaman.

"There, you hear, sir. There wasn't no bones broke."

"Hold your tongue, sir."

"Cert'n'y, sir."

"And come here."

Tom Jecks stepped forward obsequiously.

"Look, the tin sticks all round fast into the tail as if it were a rabbit trap."

"Ay, sir, it do; and if I might say so, they managed it very cleverly."

"Cleverly?"

"Yes, sir. If I'd been doing it, I should on'y have thought of tying it on with a bit o' spun-yarn; but this here tin holds it wonderful tight."

"How are we to get it off?"

"Oh, I can soon get it off," cried Tom Jecks, who seemed to be imbued with the same notion as Alexander of old, who unsheathed his sword to cut the Gordian knot. For he hauled out his knife by the lanyard, opened the blade with his teeth, and took a step forward, but Ching held the canister behind him and dodged round me.

"Steady, my lad," growled Tom Jecks, "it arn't a operation. Stand by."

"No, no, no!" shrieked Ching.

"Steady, my lad, I'll soon have it off. I won't cut down to the bone."

"No, no!" cried Ching, who was excited and alarmed, and who now began chattering in his own tongue, all pang ang nong wong ong, and a series of guttural sounds, while I could do nothing for laughing, but had to stand like a post for Ching to dodge behind.

"Why don't you stand by, messmate?" growled Tom Jecks. "You can't go through life with that there tin-kettle tied to your tail. Fust one as see yer will be calling, 'Mad dog.'"

By this time the watch had come to see what was going on, and I now began to feel sorry for the Chinaman.

"Here, Ching," I said. "Come down below."

But he was too much alarmed for the moment to listen to my words, expecting every moment as he was that some one would make a snatch at his tail, to obviate which accident he was now holding the canister tightly beneath his arm, and looking wildly round for a way to escape.

"Hadn't we better have it took off, sir?" said Tom Jecks, and there was a roar of laughter. "Let's ketch him and take him to the doctor."

"No, no!" cried Ching, dodging round me again, for Tom Jecks, to the delight of the others, made a snatch at him.

"You'll be a deal more comfortable, messmate—you know you will. Here, let's have it?"

Tom Jecks made another snatch at him, but Ching avoided it, and to save him from further annoyance I too made a snatch.

Poor fellow, interpreter though he was, he misinterpreted my intentions. He tore away from my grasp and made a rush forward, but several men were coming in that direction, and he dashed back to find himself faced by Tom Jecks again. In his desperation he charged right at the sailor, lowering his head as he did so, and striking him with so much force that Tom Jecks went down sprawling, and Ching leaped over him.

There was no way open to him for escape, as it seemed, and he made a rush for the side, leaped up, was on the bulwarks in an instant, and made a snatch at the foremast shrouds as if to climb up into the rigging, when either his foot slipped or his long loose cotton jacket caught in something, I don't know how it was, but one moment I saw him staggering, the next there was the terrible cry of "Man overboard" raised as I rushed toward the side, heard the splash, and got upon the bulwark in time to see the agitated water.

That was all.

It was rapidly getting dark, the tide was running swiftly seaward, and even if the Chinaman could swim it seemed very doubtful whether he could maintain himself long, hampered as he was by his loose clinging clothes.

But at the raising of the cry, "Man overboard," there is not much time lost on board a man-of-war. A crew leaped into the boat; the falls were seized; and in a minute the keel touched the water, and I found myself, as I stood on the bulwark holding on by a rope, called upon to direct those who had gone.

"Which way, sir? See him?"

I could only answer no, and then reply to Mr Reardon, who came up panting.

"Who is it?" he cried. "Mr Herrick?"

"No, sir, I'm here," I shouted. "It's the interpreter."

"And what business had he up on the hammock-rail?" roared the lieutenant as he climbed up there himself. "Steady, my lads, he can't be far."

At that moment there was a flash, and a brilliant blue-light burst out on the surface of the black water, sending a glare all round from where it floated on the trigger life-buoy, which had been detached and glided away astern, while directly after a second blue-light blazed out from the stern of the boat, showing the men dipping their oars lightly, and two forward and two astern shading their eyes and scanning the flashing and sparkling water.

"Can't you see him?" roared the lieutenant.

"No, sir."

We leaped downward, hurried right aft where the captain and the other officers were now gathered, and the orders were given for a second boat to be lowered and help to save the poor fellow.

"He ought to float, sir," said Mr Reardon in answer to some remark from the captain. "He's fat enough."

Then he began shouting orders to the men to row to and fro; and my heart sank as I vainly searched the lit-up water, for there was no sign of the unfortunate Chinaman.

"What a horrible ending to a practical joke!" I thought, and a bitter feeling of disappointment assailed me, as I asked myself why I had not gone in the second boat to help save the poor fellow.

Perhaps it was vanity, but in those exciting moments I felt that if I had been there I might have seen him, for it never occurred to me that I had a far better chance of seeing him from my post of vantage high up on that quarter-deck rail.

"See him yet?"

"No, sir!"—"No, sir!"

The first hail loudly from close by, the other from far away where the blue-lights shone.

"Bless my soul!" cried Mr Reardon, with an angry stamp. "I can't understand it. He must have come up again."

"Unless his pockets were heavily laden," said the captain, going to where Mr Reardon stood. "These men carry a great deal about them under their long loose clothes. Some heavy copper money, perhaps. A very little would be enough to keep a struggling man down."

"Ha!" ejaculated Mr Reardon, while I shivered at the idea of poor old Ching coming to so terrible an end.

"A glass here!" cried Mr Reardon, and one was handed up to him.

"Try the life-buoy," cried the captain.

"Bless me, sir, I was going to," retorted the lieutenant irritably; "but the idiot who uses this glass ought to be turned out of the service for being short-sighted. I shall never get it to the right focus."

The captain gave a dry cough, and I turned round sharply, expecting to hear some angry exclamation.

"No," cried Mr Reardon, "he is not clinging to the life-buoy. I wouldn't for anything that it should have happened. Poor fellow! Poor fellow!"

"Ay, poor fellow!" muttered Captain Thwaites. "Any use to lower another boat, Reardon?"

"No, sir, no," cried the lieutenant, "or I would have had one down. Ahoy there!" he roared. "Light another blue!"

"Ay, ay, sir!" came from far away, for the tide ran hissing by our sides in full rush for the sea, and the third blue-light which blazed out looked smaller and smaller, while those of the first boat and the life-buoy began to show faint, and then all at once that on the buoy seemed to go out.

"That blue-light ought to have burned longer on the buoy," cried Mr Reardon.

"They've picked up the buoy and laid it across the bows of the boat," said Mr Brooke, who was watching through his night-glass, and at that moment the light blazed out again like a star.

And still the halos shed by the lights grew fainter and fainter. Then one light burned out, and the lieutenant stamped with anger, but there was no cause for his irritation. Another flashed out directly.

The boats were too far away now for us to see much of what was going on, the heads of the men growing blurred, but we saw that they were zig-zagging across the tide, and we listened in vain for the hail and the cheer that should accompany the words—

"Got him, sir!"

The buzz of conversation among the men, who clustered on deck, in the shrouds and tops, grew fainter, and I was thinking whether I was very much to blame, and if I could in any way have saved the poor fellow. Then I began thinking of the men in the forecastle, and their punishment for being the cause, in their boyish way of playing tricks, of the poor Chinaman's death.

I wouldn't be Tom Jecks for all the world, I muttered, and then I turned cold and shuddered, as the hope, faint though it was, of Ching being picked up went out like one of the lights that now disappeared; for Captain Thwaites said sadly—

"I'm afraid we must recall the boats, Mr Reardon."

"Yes, sir," said the lieutenant in a husky voice. "I don't think any one is to blame about the attempt to save the poor fellow, sir. The life-buoy was let go, and the boat lowered promptly; the dishipline of the men was good."

"Excellent, Mr Reardon. I have nothing to say there. It would have been better perhaps to have lowered down the second boat sooner. But I think we have done our best. Can you make them hear from this distance?"

"Yes, I think so; a voice will travel far over the smooth water on a still night like this. Shall I recall them?"

Captain Thwaites was silent for a full minute, and we all stood gazing aft at the faint stars on the black water, while to right and left were those that were more dim and distant, being the paper lanterns of the house-boats moored a short distance from the bank.

Then the captain spoke again, and his words re-illumined the parting light of hope which flashed up like an expiring flame.

"Do you think he has struck out straight for the shore?"

"He may have done so, sir," replied Mr Reardon, as we all stood in a knot together on the quarter-deck, "but he could never have reached it."

"Not in this mill-race of a tide!" said Captain Thwaites. "Recall the boats."

But Mr Reardon made no sign. He stood there gazing through the night-glass for some moments, and the captain spoke again.

"Recall the boats, Mr Reardon."

"I beg your pardon, sir," said the lieutenant, with quite a start. "Aloft there! Who's in the foretop?"

"Ay, ay, sir; Jecks, sir."

I shivered.

"Hail the boats to come back."

The man did not answer for a moment, and Mr Reardon made an angry gesture, but just then Tom Jecks, with his hands to his mouth, sent forth a hoarse deep-toned roar.

Then there was a pause and a faintly-heard hail came from far away, the zig-zagging movement of the boats ceased, and we saw one of them, that is to say one of the lights, glide slowly toward the other, till one was apparently only a short distance in front, and the other following.

"Let me know when the boats come alongside, Mr Reardon," said the captain quietly.

"Yes, sir."

"And, by the way, I'll trouble you for my night-glass."

Mr Reardon gave a violent start.

"Your night-glass, sir?" he said.

"Yes, mine; you borrowed it."

The lieutenant handed the telescope without a word, and at another time we should all have had to turn away to smother the desire to burst out laughing, as we recalled the irritable remarks about the idiot to whom the glass belonged, and the wretchedness of his eyesight, coupled with an opinion that he ought to be dismissed the service.

But it was not a time for mirth: we were all too sad, and Barkins contented himself with whispering—

"I say, I'm jolly glad it wasn't I who said that. Don't the skipper take it coolly now? But he'll give old Dishy a talking-to for it when he gets him alone."

Mr Reardon's face was not visible to us, but we could see his movements, which were, so to speak, fidgety, for he began to walk up and down hastily, and once or twice I heard him mutter—

"How could I be such a fool?"

A dead chill had settled down upon the ship, and I felt as I stood there as if eight or nine years had suddenly dropped away from me—that I was a little child again, and that I should like to creep below somewhere out of sight, or sit down and cry and sob.

For it was such a horrible lesson to me of the nearness of death, and I felt as if it was impossible for it all to be true—that it must be some terrible dream.

And now for the first time it dawned upon me that I had a liking for the strange, simple-hearted Chinaman, who had always shown himself to be frank, honest, and brave in our service. He had been comic and peculiar, but always devoted to me as a faithful servant; and now, just too as I was joining in the mirth against him, instead of being indignant on behalf of one who had been insulted by the men's horseplay, he was as it were snatched from life to death.

I was brought back to the present by a voice at my ear—

"Poor old Ching! I am sorry, Gnat."

"Yes, and so am I."

I had not seen my messmates all through the trouble, and now they appeared close to me in the darkness in a way which made me start.

I turned to them, and I don't know how it was, but as we three stood there in the darkness, which was hardly relieved by a lantern here and there, Barkins held out his hand and shook mine, holding it tightly without letting go. Directly after, Smith took my other hand to give it a warm, strong pressure; and then we three parted without a word more, Barkins going one way, Smith another, while I went to the stern rail and leaned my arms upon it, and then rested my chin upon my arms to gaze out over the rushing water at the two blue stars.

But they were not there now. They had burned out some time before, and I could see nothing, only take it for granted that the boats were being slowly rowed back against the heavy tide, our anchor-lights acting as their guide.

"Is it possible that they have found him after all?" I thought, and for a minute I was hopeful. But once more the hope died out, for I knew well enough that if they had picked the poor fellow up they would have cheered.



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

A SURPRISE.

That night had set in very dark. The clouds were heavy overhead, and the river now looked intensely black, but toward the shore there were the dull lights of the Chinese town glimmering in the water, while from some building, whether on account of a religious ceremony or a festival, a great gong was being beaten heavily, its deep, sonorous, quivering tones floating over the place, and reaching my ears like the tolling of a church bell.

It only wanted that depressing sound to make my spirits at the lowest ebb, and set me thinking of home, the perils of the career in which I was engaged, and wondering whether I should ever see England again.

The watch had been set, and from time to time Mr Reardon came aft to look anxiously astern.

The last time Mr Brooke was with him, and they stopped near where I was standing.

"But they ought to be back by now," Mr Reardon said.

"It's a long pull," Mr Brooke replied, "and the tide is terribly sharp at this time."

"Yes, yes—it is; but I want to see them back. Who's that?"

"Herrick, sir."

"Oh! Looking out for the boats?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's right. I like to see a young officer take an interest in the men."

They moved away to walk forward, while my face burned, for I did not deserve the praise, and my words had not been quite so honest as I could have wished.

All at once, from out of the blackness astern, I heard the regular dip of oars, and at the same moment one of the watch challenged and received an answer. A minute later they were close up, and I shouted—

"Found him?"

"No, sir; not a sign of him anywhere."

I uttered a low groan, and the boats separated, one going to starboard and the other to port, to be hauled up to their quarters, and there was the customary trampling of the men going to their positions to run them up.

"Poor old Ching!" I said aloud; and then I started back as if I had received a stroke, for my name was uttered from below in a sharp whisper.

"Mister Hellick! Mister Hellick!"

"Ching!" I cried, leaning over as far as I could reach, and gazing down at the water. "Help!—help!" I shouted. "Here he is!"

Mr Brooke ran to me.

"What do you mean, my lad?"

"He's down here," I cried, "clinging to the chains."

"Nonsense! the boats would have seen him."

"But he is," I cried. "He has just called me. Below there! Ching!"

"Yes; help! Velly cold," came up in a piteous wail.

"Hold hard there!" shouted Mr Brooke. "Port boat back here under the counter."

The falls were unhooked, and the boat drawn back by the coxswain till she passed round close to the rudder.

"Any one there?" cried Mr Brooke.

"Ay, ay, sir!" and a cheer broke out from the men hurrying aft.

"Help! help!" came in a sharp wail. "No cut tow-chang! No cut tow-chang!"

"Nobody's going to cut it, my lad. All right, we've got you," came up from close under the stern windows, where even if it had been light we could not have seen.

"Found him?" cried the captain, who now came up.

"Ay, ay, sir! Will you lower us down a lantern, sir? He's tied up somehow to the chain and a ring-bolt. We can't quite lee."

The next minute, as I stood there longing to lower myself down into the boat, a lantern was swung over to them; while the men came swarming up the hatchway, for the news had soon spread, and they came running as far aft as they dared.

"Now then, steady," came from beneath us. "Let go; we've got you, I say."

"No cuttee tow-chang! No cuttee tow-chang!"

"Then he must have caught at the rudder-chains as he was swept along the side," said the captain. "Why didn't the fellow hail us, instead of letting the boats go on such a fool's errand?"

"Too much scared, sir," replied Mr Reardon. "Below there! Got him in the boat?"

"Got him, sir, and we can't get him," said one of the men. "He's all twissen up round the chain in a knot somehow."

"What?"

"He's tied hisself up somehow."

"Well, then, cut him loose, man," cried Mr Reardon.

"No cuttee tow-chang! No cuttee tow-chang!" cried Ching in a piteous wail.

"Not cut his toe?" said the captain in a tone full of disgust. "What does he mean? He can't have tied his foot to the chain."

"Hold still, will yer!" growled a deep voice; "I'm only untwisten on it. Nobody wants to cut yer pigtail."

"Oh, no cuttee tow-chang!" wailed Ching piteously.

"Tow-chang?" said the captain.

"Yes, sir; his tail," I said.

"Oh, I see! They're very proud of the length."

"Well, I'm blessed if ever I see such a snarl," cried the man below. "That's it. There you are. Here, cut this hankychy thing."

"Got him now?"

"Ay, ay, sir! all right," came from the boat; and at this the men burst out cheering again like mad, while the boat was drawn along the side with difficulty till the falls were reached, hooked on, and with a stamp and a run she was hauled up, and I was close up to the side as she was swung in, and Ching lifted out dripping, and sank down in a heap as soon as the men tried to set him on his feet.

"Here, let me have a look at him," said the doctor.

"But first of all, why did you cling there instead of calling for help?" cried Mr Reardon angrily.

"Bah! don't worry the man, sir," said the doctor sharply. "He's nearly insensible. What's this canister doing at the end of his tail?"

"Bah!" ejaculated the captain angrily, and he said something to Mr Reardon, and then went down to the cabin.

"Look here," cried the lieutenant angrily, "I want the names of the men who played this blackguardly trick upon the poor fellow."

"Yes, afterwards," said the doctor. "He's insensible, poor fellow. Here, one of you, a knife?"

Half-a-dozen jack-knives were opened and presented to the doctor, but I sprang forward.

"Don't do that, sir, please!" I cried excitedly.

"Eh? Not cut off this absurd thing?"

"No, sir. The poor fellow went overboard to escape having the pigtail cut, and it would break his heart."

Mr Reardon turned upon me sharply, and I anticipated a severe reproof, but he only gave me a nod.

"Carry him below," he said. And I walked beside the men to save the poor fellow from any fresh indignity, while half-an-hour later he had had a good rubbing and was lying in hot blankets fast asleep, partly from exhaustion, partly consequent upon having had a tumbler of mixture, steaming and odorous, which the doctor had administered with his own hands.

"Not to be taken every three hours, Herrick," he said, with a curious dry smile. "Fine mixture that, in its proper place. Know what it was?"

"It smelt like grog, sir," I replied.

"Oh, did it? Now, do you for a moment suppose that when a carefully-trained medical man of great experience is called in to a patient suffering from shock and a long immersion he would prescribe and exhibit such a commonplace remedy as grog?"

"Don't know, sir," I said. "But I should."

"Then, my good lad, as soon as you get back from this unpleasant voyage, the best thing you can do will be to go straight to your father and tell him that you have made a mistake in your vocation, and that he had better enter you for a series of terms at one of the universities, and then as a student at one of the hospitals."

"But I'm going to be a sailor, sir."

"Yes, a bad one, I daresay, my lad, when you might become a good doctor or surgeon."

"But I don't want to be one," I replied, laughing.

"Of course not, when it is the grandest profession in the world."

"But do you think he will come round all right, sir?" I said anxiously.

"Oh yes, of course. But you are not going to let that absurd thing stop on the end of his tail?"

"No, sir," I replied. "I'm going to try and get it off directly."

"How?"

"Lay it on a stool and stamp upon it."

"Good! that will flatten it and make the opening gape."

It did, after the exercise of a fair amount of pressure; and then, by the help of Tom Jecks, who was wonderfully penitent now, and eager to help with a tool he brought—to wit, a marlinespike—the star-like points of tin were one by one forced out, and the tail withdrawn uninjured, except that the silk ribbon at the end was a good deal frayed.

"Ha!" ejaculated Tom. "We've made an end of it at last. My word, Mr Herrick, sir, it's truly-thankful-Amen I am that the poor chap's all right again."

"And so am I, Tom Jecks," I replied.

"O' course you is, sir; I never meant to cut his tail, only to frighten him a bit; but, poor heathen, he took it all as serious as seas. Shall I go and chuck the tin-can overboard?"

"No; leave it here for him to find when he wakes up."

"Right it is, sir. But what a fuss for a man to make about a bit o' hair. He never howls about having his head shaved."

"No," I said; "but you see he would have given anything sooner than have his tail touched."

"And most got drownded, sir. Well, that all come o' the lads skylarking. If ever I'm skipper of a ship, no skylarking then. I s'pose there'll be a reglar hooroar in the morning, and Mr Reardon wanting to know who started the game."

"And you'll tell him, Tom?" I said.

"O' course, sir," he replied, with a solemn wink. "I'm just the man to go and split upon my messmates."

"But you'll be punished if you don't tell. You can't get out of it, because it's known that you were teasing him; and it wouldn't be fair for you to be punished and for them to escape."

"No, sir, it wouldn't; but sech is life. Wrong chap generally gets the kick as some one else ought to have ketched, but 'tarn't your fault, and it's no use to grumble."

"But it is your fault, if you know who were the offenders and will not tell."

"Is it? Humph! S'pose it is, sir. You're right. That's where you gents as is scholards gets over the like of me. I see it now; you are right, sir. What a wonderful head you've got for arguing, sewerly!"

"Then you'll tell Mr Reardon in the morning?"

"I didn't say as I would, sir."

"No; but you will?"

"No, sir, but I won't!" he said emphatically. "But I say, sir, do you think if I was to go overboard, and then hitch myself on to the rudder-chains till I was took aboard, the doctor'd give me a dose of that same physic as he give him?"

"Very likely, Tom," I said. "But you'd rather be without, wouldn't you?"

He smiled.

"But it was physic?"

"Oh yes, sir, it was physic. But then you see there's physic as he takes out of one of his little bottles with stoppers, and there's physic as he makes out of the ship's rum, hot with sugar. I could take a dose now easy, and it would do me good."

"Nonsense!" I said, after a glance at the sleeping Chinaman. "But I say, Jecks, how did he manage?"

"Oh, easy enough, sir. Tide would suck him right along the side, and he'd catch the chains."

"But how did he get in such a tangle?"

"Tied hisself on, sir, with a handkerchy round his left arm, to the chain; and then Dick Spurling says he twissened his tow-chang, as he called it, round and round, and tucked the canister in at the neck of his frock and buttoned it. Dick had no end of a job, as you know, to get him undone."

"Yes," I said thoughtfully, "I know that; but a man couldn't hang by his hair."

Tom Jecks laughed softly.

"Oh yes, he could, sir. There's no knowing how little a man can hang by when he's obliged. Why, ain't you heard how we men hangs on to the yards when we're aloft?"

"Oh yes, I've heard," I said; "by your eyelids."

"That's it, sir," he said, with a dry grin; "and that's harder than a man hanging on by his hair."

Ching was still sleeping heavily, and our conversation did not disturb him, and after a few moments' thought I said—

"But I don't feel at all sure why he did not hail the boats when they were going off."

"Oh, I do, sir," replied Tom Jecks. "I wouldn't ha' thought it possible, but the poor fellow was regularly scared, and wouldn't speak at first, because he thought that if he was hoisted on board the first thing we would do would be to go for his tail."

"Yes," I said, "that sounds likely; but he did hail after all."

"And enough to make him, sir; poor chap. Do you know why?"

"Well, not exactly," I said.

"A'cause the first fright had gone, and the bigger one had come. At first he was all in a squirm about losing his tail, but after a bit he got wacken up to the fact that if he didn't get took aboard he'd precious soon lose his life."



CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

CHING HAS A NOTE.

I suppose that Mr Reardon thought better of his threat, or probably he came to the conclusion that the expectation of punishment would prove as effective as the punishment itself. At all events nothing was said, and the routine of the ship went on as usual. The decks were scrubbed, the guns polished, and the marines drilled, till, as Barkins said, they could walk up to the top of a ladder and down the other side without touching.

The Jacks, too, had their gun drill and sword exercise, till their cutlasses flashed about with an exactness that promised to shave a head without cutting off an ear—promised: the performance might have been another thing.

As soon as I had an opportunity I started to go below and see Ching, but before I was half-way there I ran against Smith.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?"

"To see how Ching's getting on."

"Did you put on a clean shirt?"

"No," I said innocently. "I can't stand one every day."

"Oh, come, this won't do!" cried Smith. "Here, hi, Barkins!"

"What's the row?" said our messmate, coming up.

"Row enough. Look here, this won't do. The Gnat's going below to see His Excellency Ching Baron fancee shop, and Knight of the Tow-chang, without putting on a clean shirt."

"Go and report him to the captain. Why, worse and worse, he hasn't shaved!"

"No, that he hasn't."

"Well, I haven't got any razors like you fellows have," I retorted. "I say, Tanner, have you stropped yours up lately? Smithy's are getting rusty with the sea air."

"You're getting rusty with the sea air," grumbled Smith, who was very proud of the possession of a pair of razors with Sunday and Monday etched on the blades. He had once or twice shown them to me, saying that they were a present from his father, who was going to leave him the other five, which completed the days of the week, in his will.

I remember how I offended him at the time by saying—

"Well, that will be quite as soon as you want them."

"Look here," said Smith rather haughtily, after a look at Barkins; "we've been talking this business over, and it is time it was stopped."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"Oh, you know well enough. You came on board the Teaser to take your place as an officer and a gentleman, and we your seniors received you in a gentlemanly way."

"Yes, you were right enough," I said. "A bit cocky and bounceable at first, till you found that I wouldn't stand it, and then you were both civil."

"Well, I am blessed!" cried Barkins, blowing out his cheeks and looking down at me. "Of all the impudent little cockboats of boys you are about the most cheeky. Pretty strong turn that for a Gnat, Smithy."

"Yes; we shall have to put him down, and the sooner the better. Will you speak to him, or shall I?"

"Oh, I'm just in the humour for it," said Barkins; "so I'll give him his dose at once. Look here, young fellow: as aforesaid, when you interrupted, we received you as gentlemen should, and have taken great care of you, and tried to smooth you down into something like a budding officer."

"Thank you," I said humbly; "I'm so grateful."

"And so you ought to be, sir. But look here, what in the name of thunder do you mean by forsaking us and taking to bad company?"

"Who does?"

"Why, you do, sir. Smithy and I talked it over last night, and we both agreed that you're never happy unless you're along with the forecastle Jacks, or sneaking about with old Ching."

"Get out!" I said indignantly.

"None of your impudence, sir, because that won't do. It's come to this: either you've got to give up low society, or high."

"Which is which?" I said.

"What?"

"I said which is which? Do you mean you two fellows are high society?"

"Do you hear this beggar, Smithy?"

"Oh yes, I hear him. Isn't it awful to find so much depravity in such a small body? But keep him to it, and make him speak. He has got to choose."

"Yes, you've got to choose, Gnat. We can't have a brother officer always associating with the low Chinee."

"Do you mean that I oughtn't to go and see the poor fellow now he's below ill?"

"Something of the sort: you're not a doctor. Of course he ought to visit the men."

"So ought an officer when his men are in trouble."

"Yes; but not to make friends of them. It won't do, Gnat, and we've made up our minds not to stand it. That will do now. You have heard what I had to say, and I hope you will profit by it."

I burst out into a roar of laughter, for Barkins' assumption of dignity was comic.

"What do you mean by that, sir?" he cried in an offended tone.

"Second-hand captain's rowing!" I cried. "Why, I heard him say those very words to you."

"Hi! stop!" cried Smith, as Barkins turned red with annoyance. "Where are you going, sir?"

"Down below to see Ching," I replied coolly; and I descended the companion-ladder to where the man lay.

He was looking very yellow and gloomy, but as soon as he caught sight of me his face lit up.

"You come along see Ching?" he said in his high voice; and upon my nodding—"Velly glad. Doctor say stop along, velly much, not gettee up to-day."

"But you are ever so much better?"

"Yes, quite well. Not velly wet now. Captain velly closs Ching tumb' overboard?"

"No, he hasn't said anything."

"Ching velly glad. You go tell captain something?"

"What about?" I said.

"Ching get lettee flom fliend."

"That's right," I said. "How is he?"

"Velly glad you catchee pilate."

"Oh, he is, is he?"

"Yes, velly muchee glad, and send lettee."

"Yes, you said so."

"Allee 'bout pilates."

He took a piece of paper from somewhere and handed it to me.

"You no lead lettee?"

I shook my head as I glanced at the queer Chinese characters.

"No; what does he say about the pirates?"

"Say two muchee big junk in river going to sail, catchee tea-ship, lice-ship, silkee-ship."

"Going to sail from here?" I cried.

"Yes."

"But how does he know?"

"Know evelyting. Muchee big man. Wantee catchee more pilate."

"But do you mean your friend knows of these junks sailing?"

"Yes."

"When did you get the letter?"

"Chinese coolie bling lettee in flesh-vegetable boat."

"What, this morning?"

"Yes, bling lettee."

"When are the junks going to sail?"

"No know. Keepee watchee and catchee."

I sat thinking for a few moments, and I made up my mind to go and tell the first lieutenant, but found the Chinaman looking at me smiling the while.

"You likee this?" he said, holding out a tiny thin stoppered bottle, covered with Chinese characters.

"Like it? No. What for?"

"Velly good. Headache: lub lit' dlop here. Toothache: lub lit' dlop there. Got pain anywhere, lub lit' dlop."

I took out the stopper and smelt it.

"Smell velly good; all nicee."

"Why, it smells of peppermint drops," I said carelessly.

"Yes, smell beautiful, all peppimint. Velly gleat stlong. Muchee lit' dlop, so."

He took the bottle, drew out the stopper, and covered the neck with one finger, turned the vial upside down, and then rubbed the tiny drop of moisture upon his temples, replaced the stopper, and gave it back to me.

"Thank you, Ching," I said, placing it in my pocket, but without valuing the gift in the slightest degree. "I'm going now to tell the first lieutenant what you say."

"Yes, tell Mr Leardon watchee watchee, killee allee pilate."

"Yes," I said; and I hurried away, muttering, "Watchee watchee, killee. What stuff they do talk! Any one would think they were all big babies, who had been taught to speak English by a nurse."

As I reached the deck I saw Barkins and Smith standing by the first lieutenant, and he was nodding his head.

"Why, they've been telling him about me," I thought as I went aft. "No; they wouldn't be such sneaks."

But all doubt was at an end directly, for they came down to meet me, and Smith cried—

"Mr Reardon wants to speak to you directly, Herrick;" while, as I looked up and caught Barkins' eye, he coloured a little, and hurriedly avoided my gaze.

"Thank you, tale-bearer," I said to Smith.

"Don't you be insolent, sir, unless you wish me to give you a severe thrashing."

"With fists?" I said.

"Yes, sir, with fists. I suppose the rules of the service will not allow us to use such weapons as officers are accustomed to."

"Do you mean officers like you?" I said contemptuously.

"Yes, sir; officers like me."

"Oh, you mean knives and forks, then," I said carelessly. "I say, Barkins, I didn't think you could have been such a jerry sneak."

He turned upon me with an apologetic look, but his lips began to bluster.

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Oh, nothing; I am not going to quarrel with old Barkins. He wouldn't have done this, if it had not been for Blacksmith."

"Go and obey the first lieutenant's orders, sir," said Smith haughtily. "We will talk to you later on."

"You go and show Doctor Price your arms and legs," I said contemptuously and spitefully; for, to use a common phrase, my monkey was up. "Fight? With fists? Where are your muscles? Why, I could upset you both with a swab."

I hurried aft, and ran up the steps to the quarter-deck in time to encounter the first lieutenant, who was coming from the wheel with an angry look upon his face.



CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

A QUEER QUARREL.

"I sent a message to you, Mr Herrick," he cried angrily, and I could then guess that he had been coming to see why I had delayed. "I have something to say to you, sir, respecting the company you keep, and the society you affect, which I am given to understand is not that which conduces to good dishipline."

"Oh, that's what Mr Smith thinks, sir," I said coolly.

"Oh, indeed!" he cried sarcastically.

"Yes, sir; he said something about it to me this morning, but he does not know."

"Indeed!" he cried, growing black as a thundercloud; "then I am to take it, sir, that you do?"

"I hope so, sir; I try to know."

"Then you know, sir, possibly why it was that when I sent you a summons I am kept waiting?"

"Yes, sir; I was delayed a little—"

"Oh, thank you. I am glad to hear that, Mr Herrick. Perhaps you have something else of importance to communicate?"

"Yes, sir, very."

"Thank you. I am sorry I cannot ask you to sit down."

"Don't name it, sir," I said quietly, while he began to breathe very hard.

"I was down with Ching the interpreter, sir, this morning—"

"Were you really, Mr Herrick?" he said sarcastically. "Dear me, I hope he is much better?"

"Yes, sir, he's nearly all right. I was coming to you when I met Mr Barkins, and Smith." I couldn't say Mr Smith, I felt so exasperated against him.

"What a curious coincidence, Mr Herrick! If I had known I might have spared myself the trouble of sending."

"Yes, sir."

"And pray, may I know for what reason I was to be honoured?"

"Of course, sir," I said coolly enough, for I was enjoying the way in which he was working himself up for an explosion to fall upon my unfortunate head. "The fact is, sir—"

"Oh, it is a fact, is it?"

"Yes, sir—Ching has friends ashore."

"And wants leave of absence? Are you his envoy?"

"Oh no, sir. One of his friends sent him an important letter this morning by the vegetable boat."

"Eh? letter?" said Mr Reardon, beginning to grow interested.

"Yes, sir. This friend is a kind of a merchant or something; and he has news of two big junks—piratical junks—lying in this very river."

"The dickens he has! Here, Herrick, come down to my cabin."

He took my arm and marched me quickly to the ladder and down to his cabin. On the way I caught sight of Barkins and Smith watching us, and I gave them a nod.

"Now, my lad, sit down," cried Mr Reardon excitedly. "Let's hear."

I sat down, and he walked to and fro—two steps and turn.

"There's very little more to tell you, sir," I said; "but there are two very large junks assuming to be merchantmen. They are anchored close by here somewhere."

"You don't know which two?"

"No, sir; but we shall know them by their sailing at once, and I should say by boats coming off to them with extra men directly after."

"Yes, that's good, Herrick—very good. But you have no other information about them?"

"Only, sir, that they are just off on a cruise, and if we could catch them—"

"We will catch them, my lad. But is that all?"

"Yes, sir, that's all; I thought it rather big news."

"So it is, Herrick—very big news. Just what we wanted. It's time we made another capture. And to Ching has a friend on shore who sent this information?"

"Yes, sir."

"Not a trap, is it—to get us away?"

"Oh no, sir; Ching is as honest as the day."

"Humph, yes," said Mr Reardon, with his fingers to his lips. "I think he is, for he seems to have taken to us and to be working hard in our service. But he may have been deceived. He is cunning enough; but so are his countrymen, and they would glory in tricking the man who has taken up with the English. I don't know what to say to it, Herrick."

"But suppose we see two big junks setting sail, watch them with a boat, sir, and find that they take others on board, there could be no mistake then."

"Oh yes, there could, my boy. We might follow these junks, seize them, and spend a long time in their capture and bringing back into port. Then we should apply to the authorities, and find that we had got into sad trouble, for we had seized two vessels which the occupants could prove were intended for peaceable pursuits. We could not contradict them possibly, and all the time the scoundrels we wanted to take had sailed off upon a piratical expedition, consequent upon our absence. Now, sir, what do you say to that?"

I shook my head.

"I think Ching ought to know best," I said.

"Perhaps so," he replied. "We shall see. Come on now to the captain."

He opened the door, and I followed. I had forgotten all about Barkins and Smith for the time, but now all that had passed occurred to my mind, and I felt certain that they would be waiting somewhere to meet me and make sport of the tremendous setting-down which I had had.

I was not wrong: they were talking together amidships, just where they could command the companion-way, and as soon as we appeared I saw Smith's features expand into a malicious grin, while Barkins remained perfectly stolid.

As we passed to the ladder Smith looked after us wonderingly, and I saw him turn and whisper something, which I felt sure was—

"Taking him to the skipper."

For the captain was not in his cabin, but walking up and down the quarter-deck with his hands clasped behind him, and the telescope which had made Mr Reardon so angry under his left arm.

As we reached the deck he was going aft, so we followed him, and timed our pace so that when he turned we had only a step or two to take to be facing him.

"Yes, Mr Reardon," he said in response to our salute, "anything fresh?"

"Yes, sir, something very fresh. Will you listen to what Mr Herrick has to say?"

"Certainly," he replied, and he made room for me on his right Mr Reardon placed himself on my right, and as I narrated all I had said before as nearly as I could, they marched me up and down between them, from the binnacle to the end of the quarter-deck, turned and marched me back again.

As we approached the rail I could see Barkins and Smith watching us with all their eyes, and as we came in sight again they were still watching intently, evidently in the full belief that I was being, as we should have called it, wigged tremendously. And certainly they had some excuse for this idea, for I had been summoned by the first lieutenant, taken into his cabin, talked to, and then marched off to the captain. It almost looked like being dismissed from the ship in their eyes, and now I could see them scanning my features with intense interest for sight of my breaking down.

The captain heard me out, and then listened to Mr Reardon's objections.

"Yes," he said quietly at last, "that's very true, Mr Reardon, but we must not let an opportunity slip. I was intending to sail to-morrow for the north; now we will sail which way the junks lead. That will do for the present, Mr Herrick, and I thank you for your diligence in Her Majesty's service."

I touched my cap and went to the ladder, and as I descended there were my two messmates coming towards me.

Trying to make my face as mobile as possible, I stretched it here and there into wrinkles, and was walking straight along the deck looking the image of despair, when they stopped me.

"Serve you right!" said Smith exultantly. "There, be off below, and don't let the men all see what a setting-down you have had."

I gave each of them a piteous look, turned as they had suggested, and hurried down to our cabin to have a good laugh all to myself.

To my surprise, though, they followed me, Barkins to seat himself on the table, and Smith to lean up against the door.

"Well, Skeeter," said the latter, "you've had it pretty hot. Serve you right for being sarcy; you'll behave better next time."

"I hope so," I said meekly.

"Dishy gave you his lecture, then, and walked you off to the skipper, eh?"

"Yes," I said.

"Well, it's of no use for you to be grumpy. You've had your lesson, and now you've got to behave yourself."

"Yes."

"And I am very glad to see you are so humble. Aren't you, Tanner?"

"Yes," said Barkins gruffly.

"You see it won't do for a little gnat of a fellow to think he is going to do what he likes on board one of Her Majesty's ships. It was quite time you were taken down a few pegs—wasn't it, Tanner?"

"I suppose so," said Barkins.

"Then I don't see that it's any use for us to jump upon him, and show bad blood."

"No, not a bit," cried Barkins, with more animation. "We won't."

"No, I said we wouldn't; so look here, youngster: we're going to forgive you, if you promise to behave better and do as you're bid. This isn't school, you know, where a boy can set himself up against his elders, but the Queen's service, where every one has his place, and has to keep it too—mind that. There, that's all I've got to say."

"And very nicely said too," I replied.

He looked at me sharply, but my face was like marble, and he concluded that I had spoken seriously, for he turned to Barkins—

"There, Tanner, I've done; now it's your turn."

"What for?"

"To give him a few words."

"Oh, I don't think I want to say anything," said Barkins slowly. "I'm sorry the poor little beggar got into such a row."

"It'll do him good."

"I hope so," said Barkins slowly and reluctantly, and there was rather a mournful look in his eyes as he spoke.

"You'd better give him a few words of advice," said Smith in an off-hand tone.

"Oh no, he's had enough jawing. I shan't say anything."

"Thank you, Tanner," I said.

"Oh, all right," he cried, and he held out his hand and shook mine, brightening up the next moment, and looking as pleased as if he had just got a great trouble off his mind.

"You needn't be in such a jolly hurry to forgive him," said Smith in a remonstrant tone; "he has been a cheeky little beggar, and deserved all he got."

"But it isn't nice to be wigged, all the same," said Barkins sharply.

"No, but it don't matter if you deserved it. Now then, Gnat, tell us what Dishy said."

"What about?" I asked innocently.

"What about? Why, your associating with Ching so much."

"Oh, that!" I cried.

"Oh, that!" he said, mocking my way of speaking. "Why, what did you think I meant?"

"I don't know."

"Well, what did he say?"

"Nothing at all."

"What! no lies now."

"Who's telling lies? He didn't say a word about it. We had something of more consequence to talk about."

"Now, Tanner, hark at that. Did you ever hear such a miserable cheeky little beggar in your life? It's of no use; we must give him a regular good towelling."

"Better tell us what the luff said, Gnat," growled Barkins, in so strange an accession of gruffness that I began to laugh.

"Why, what's the matter with you?" I said. "Don't gruff and grow hoarse like that."

"Can't help it; got a cold, I s'pose," he cried. "But I say, stop it now; we want to be friends. Tell us what the luff said."

"Precious little," I replied. "I did all the speaking till we went up on the quarter-deck."

"Don't listen to him," cried Smith, growing wroth with me. "I never saw such cheek. One tries to be friends with him, but it's of no use; directly you open your mouth he jumps down your throat."

"Then you shouldn't have such a big mouth, Smithy," I said sharply, and then the storm burst.

Tanner roared with laughter, for the width of Smith's mouth had often been food for our mirth; and, as Barkins afterwards said, my remark came out so pat.

"Look here," cried Smith, "I'm not going to stand this sort of thing. You may be fool enough to put up with it, but I won't."

"If you call me a fool I'll punch your head, Smithy," growled Barkins.

"No, you won't," was the retort; "and that's the way you take sides against me, and encourage the miserable little beggar in his impudent ways? Now then, you Herrick, you've got to go down on your knees and beg my pardon, and then tell me everything the skipper and the first luff said."

"When?" I asked coolly.

"When? Why, now, directly," cried Smith fiercely. "Now then, no nonsense," he cried, seizing me by the collar; but I wrested myself away, and in the slight struggle sent him staggering against Barkins.

"Now then, keep off me, please," growled Barkins.

"Keep off yourself; why don't you get out of the way?"

"How was I to know that a blundering idiot was coming up against me?"

"It'll tell you when I've done with the Gnat," said Smith angrily; for I had unintentionally hurt his arm. "Now you, Skeeter."

"Let him alone," said Barkins gruffly.

"When I've done with him," said Smith; "you could have had first go at him if you had liked."

"I don't want to hit the little fellow, I'm not overbearing like you are. Let him alone, I say."

"I shall let him alone when I choose," retorted Smith fiercely. "I'm not going to let our junior ride roughshod over me, if you're fool enough to."

"I shall be fool enough to kick you out of the cabin if you touch him," cried Barkins angrily. "I won't have him bullied; and it was a mean sneaking thing to go telling tales as you did to old Dishy."

"Look here," cried Smith, "if any one is a sneak it's you, for harking back and taking the miserable little beggar's side."

"Never mind about that; you let him alone."

"Oh, I say, Tanner," I said, "don't quarrel with him about me. What he said did no harm. Mr Reardon was as friendly as could be."

"That's a cracker," cried Smith sharply.

At that moment a marine came to the door.

"First lieutenant wants to see Mr Herrick directly."

"Yes; where is he?" I said, smiling—purposely, of course.

"With the cap'n, sir, on the quarter-deck."

"All right; I'll be there directly."

The man saluted and marched off, while I followed to the door, where I turned, thrust in my head, and said banteringly—

"Now be good boys and don't fight while I'm gone."

Bang!

A book off the table, flung by Smith, struck the door which I was holding half open, for I saw the missile coming, and dodged it. Then I popped my head in again.

"Don't take any notice of him, Tanner," I cried; "he's bilious. Thankye for sticking up for me. Can I say a word for you to the captain?"

"Here, get up," cried Smith, with a snarl. "Touch your hat to him. He's promoted; and they'll send poor old Brooke a step lower. All hail, Lieutenant Skeeter!"

"All right!" I cried, and I hurried away, leaving Barkins looking as if he could not believe his ears.

The next minute I was facing the captain and Mr Reardon.



CHAPTER THIRTY.

A FRESH START.

"Mr Herrick," said the captain, as I saluted, "I have decided that, as you know so much about this business, you shall go with Mr Brooke in one of the boats; but I wish you to observe what I say: the success of our expedition depends a great deal upon secrecy, so do not chatter anything about your mission in the hearing of the men."

"No, sir, certainly not," I said, wondering what the mission might be, and whether we were going to cut out the junks.

"That's right; you had better take the interpreter with you."

"To search for the junks, sir?"

"Hush; guard your tongue, sir. You are ostensibly going up the river with Mr Brooke upon a little shooting expedition for wild-fowl, so get rid of your uniform. I daresay we can lend him a gun, Mr Reardon?"

"If he'll take care of it, he can have mine, sir," said Mr Reardon.

"Then off with you, my lad, and be as observant as you can. Mr Brooke will tell you, I daresay, all about his instructions."

I saluted, and darted away in time to see that Smith had been watching me, for he drew back as I approached, and I found him standing by where Barkins sat, looking exceedingly glum.

I daresay it was very petty, but Smith had been so malicious, and had so often made himself disagreeable, that I could not help feeling a delicious sensation of triumph as I bustled into the cabin and rushed to my locker, without taking any notice whatever of Smith, while I felt sorry for big burly Barkins, who I felt would not say an unkind word if it were not for Smith's influence.

I remember Charles Dickens saying in one of his tales something about it being hard enough to live with any one who had a bad temper in a large house, but to be shut up with the said person in a cart or travelling van was terrible. Of course I am not giving his exact words, only making the allusion to illustrate the fact that it is quite as bad to exist with an ill-tempered person in the small cabin of a vessel at sea. For you may depend upon it there is no better—or worse—way of finding out a companion's peculiarities than that.

I acted pettily, but then I was only a boy; and now I am a man, getting on in years, I don't know that I am much better. But it was very comic all the same to see those two fellows try to ignore my proceedings, poor old Barkins following Blacksmith's lead once more. They did not want to know what I was going to do—not a bit. And I laughed to myself as I hurriedly kicked off my shoes and put on a pair of strong boots, carefully took off my uniform jacket and replaced it by a thin tweed Norfolk, after which I extricated a pith helmet from its box, having to turn it upside down, for it was full of odds and ends.

Smith had taken up a book and pretended to read, while Barkins sat back on a locker with his hands in his pockets, and his lips thrust out and screwed as if he were whistling, but no sound came, and he stared hard at the bulkhead facing him.

But try how he would he could not keep his eyes fixed there—they would follow my movements; and twice over I caught Smith peeping round the side of the book with which he was screening his face.

I began to whistle as I rapidly made my preparations, and at last Smith could bear it no longer.

"What's the idiot dressing himself up for?" he cried contemptuously.

That started Barkins, and he burst out with—

"What's up, Gnat? Shore leave?"

"Eh! Didn't you know?" I said coolly. "Shooting."

"What!" they exclaimed in a breath, and Smith's eyes were more wide open than I had ever seen them.

"Shooting," I said coolly. "Brooke and I are going after ducks."

"Gammon!" cried Barkins. "Why, you have no gun."

"No," I said. "Reardon is going to lend me his double breech-loader, central fire, number twelve."

Barkins gave his leg a sharp slap.

"We're going up the river; plenty of sport up there among the marshes."

"Going to walk?" said Barkins.

"Oh no; we're to have a crew and one of the cutters."

"Don't you believe him, Barkins, it's all gammon. The little humbug can't deceive me."

"All right, call it gammon," I said, stooping to tighten my boot-laces. "Roast duck for dinner, Tanner, to-morrow."

Barkins rushed on deck, leaving me with Smith, and the next minute he was back again.

"It's all right, Smithy," he cried; "and they're shoving in a basket of prog for the beggars."

"What!" yelled Smith. "Do you mean to say that Brooke and this—this— thing are going off wasting Her Majesty's time shooting?"

"Yes; I saw Brooke, and he said it was so."

"Then I shall resign. Hang me if I'll stop in a service where such beastly favouritism is shown. Profession for gentlemen's sons, is it? I call it a mockery!"

"Oh, don't be so snaggy, Smithums," I said banteringly; "wait till his poor old wing's all right again, and he shall go a shooting too."

That was too much. He made a rush at me, but Barkins flung an arm round his waist, and as they struggled together I dodged to the other side of the table and escaped from the cabin, but popped my head in again.

"Don't hit him, Tanner," I cried; "he ain't got no friends. Good-bye, old chap, I wish you were coming too."

Our eyes met, and I suppose my tone and the look I gave him seemed sincere, for, as he held Smith, his arms tightly round him from behind, and his chin resting upon our messmate's shoulder, he gave me a friendly nod.

"All right, old chap," he said; "I hope you'll enjoy yourself."

"And I hope the John Teapots 'll get hold of you, you miserable little cad!" cried Smith. "I shan't be there to help you this time."

I burst out laughing and ran on deck, to find the men mustered ready, and Mr Brooke standing there in sun helmet and gaiters, looking as unlike a naval officer as he could be.

"Oh, there you are, Herrick," he said, giving me a look over. "Yes, that will do."

"But the men," I whispered. "Oughtn't they to be armed?"

"All right, my lad; plenty of tackle in the boat under the thwarts."

"But my gun—I mean Mr Reardon's?"

"In the stern-sheets, with plenty of cartridges. Where's Ching?"

"I don't—down below, I suppose."

"Fetch him up; we're off at once."

There was no need, for the interpreter appeared smiling and happy, looking as if he had not passed through such a terrible ordeal a short time before.

The captain and Mr Reardon came up then.

"Ready, Mr Brooke?"

"Yes, sir."

"Order the crew into the boat, Mr Reardon."

As the men sprang in, the captain came close to us.

"You'll keep up the appearance of a sporting expedition, Mr Brooke," he said in a low voice. "I expect you'll find the junks in the river off some village. The rest I must leave to you."

"Take them, sir, if I feel pretty certain?"

Captain Thwaites knit his brows, and stood as if thinking for a few moments.

"No," he said at last; "but that I leave all to your discretion. Don't risk your men, if they are strong. I'm afraid some of these mandarins are mixed up with the piratical expeditions, and share in the plunder, and I am certain that every movement we make is watched. There, off with you; don't let Mr Herrick get hurt. I trust you to do your best."

We sprang into the boat, which was lowered down; the falls were unhooked; and as Tom Jecks, who was coxswain, gave us a shove off, the tide, which was running up, bore us right aft; then the oars dropped with a splash, the rudder lines were seized, and away we went up-stream on as glorious a day as ever made a dirty Chinese city look lovely.

I looked back, and there were Barkins and Smith leaning over the side watching us, but I hardly noticed them, for something else caught my eye.

"Why, they're getting up steam, Mr Brooke!" I said.

"Yes, my lad, they're getting up steam, and I hope your information may mean some good active service for us. Here, Ching," he whispered, "you have not told the men anything about our business?"

Ching shut his eyes and shook his head solemnly.

"Velly muchee keepee mouf shut," he said, with the addition now of a few nods of the head. "Nobody but Ching an' officer know."



CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

GETTING WARM.

The men were in high glee, and, had they not been checked, would have sent the boat spinning up the river, in their delight to escape from the monotony of harbour-life, and the natural love there is in Englishmen for a bit of sport.

"Steady, my lads," said Mr Brooke quietly. "Just give her headway, and back water the moment I speak."

I did not hear what one of the men whispered to his messmate, but I saw his face as he leaned forward, and it certainly suggested to me that he said—

"They mean some of the tame ducks to make sure."

"No, we do not, my man," said Mr Brooke, and I stared at him in astonishment, that he should have taken the same idea as I had.

The man coloured through his tan, and Mr Brooke; said in a low voice to me—

"Our work's cut out, Herrick; how are we to pick out the right two junks from all this crowd?"

"I don't know, sir," I said. "But I don't fancy they would be down here where other people might talk about them. I should think they would be up the river."

"Well, we must find them, my lad, so use our brains as much as you can, and if you see a junk with a very evil-looking lot aboard, just give me a hint as we pass."

"I'll ask Ching what he thinks, sir."

Mr Brooke nodded, and I turned to the interpreter, who was squatting in the bottom of the boat right aft, his eyes half shut, and apparently taking no heed of anything.

"How are we to know which are the junks we want, Ching?" I said.

"Oh, velly soon find," he said. "Ching look along. Not these. Pilate boat big and tall. Empty. No got big calgo aboard. Stand high up now. Velly full and low down when full of plize-money."

"Then you don't think they are down here?"

He shook his head as he glanced at the various forms of trading-boat moored off the town, from the tiny sampan to the heavy, clumsy mat-sailed vessel, whose stern towered up, and whose great bamboo yards looked as if they must be perfectly unmanageable.

"What do you think we had better do, then—row about here and watch?"

"No good," he said; "makee men low fast light up liver, findee, pilate junk."

"But suppose we pass them?" I said.

"No pass pilate boat: Ching here."

"And so you think you will know them?"

The Chinaman screwed his face up into a curiously comic smile.

"Ching know pilate when he see him."

"And you think it better to go right up the river?" said Mr Brooke, turning suddenly to join in the conversation.

"Yes; pilate junk long way."

"How do you know?"

He gave a cunning smile at us both, his little eyes twinkling in a singularly sly manner.

"You see vegetable boat come along mo'ning?"

"Yes, I saw the boat come alongside."

"Blought Ching 'nothee lettee, allee same fliend. Say pilate boat long way uppee liver in big cleek, waitee come down along lunning water in the dalk."

"Then you pretty well know where they are?" said Mr Brooke.

"No; far uppee liver; in cleek."

"I suppose this is right?" said Mr Brooke to me.

"Yes, quite light. Ching likee see Queen Victolia ship killee catch pilate."

"Give way, my men," said Mr Brooke, and the boat shot forward, while, relieved for the moment from the task of scanning the different boats, I sat gazing at the beautiful panorama of quaint houses, narrow streets debouching on the river, and the house-boats all along the edge of the river, while smaller boats were swinging here and there wherever there was room.

It was a wonderfully interesting sight, for, in addition to the curious shapes of the buildings, there was plenty of brilliant colour, and every now and then patches of brightest blue and vivid scarlet were heightened by the glistening gilding which ornamented some particular building. Then there were temples dotted about amongst the patches of forest, which fringed the high ground at the back of the city, and away beyond them the steep scarps of rugged and jagged mountains, which stood up looking of so lovely a pinky-blue, that I could for the moment hardly believe they were natural, and was ready to ask whether it was not some wonderful piece of painting.

The house-boats took my fancy greatly, for, in endless cases, they were of a variety of bright colours, pretty in shape, and decorated with showy flowers in pots and tubs; some had cages containing brightly-plumaged birds, and in most of them quaint bald-headed little children were playing about or fishing.

Higher up we saw men busy with nets which were attached to the end of a great bamboo pole, balanced upon a strong upright post fixed in the river's bottom, and by means of this balanced pole the net was let down into the depths of the river, and hoisted from time to time, sometimes with a few glittering little fish within the meshes, sometimes having nothing but weed.

"Yes, catchee fish; catchee velly big fish some time."

About ten minutes after, Ching pulled my sleeve and pointed to the other side of the river, where I caught sight of a very familiar old friend sitting in his boat, just as I had seen him in an old picture-book at home.

There he sat with a big umbrella-like sunshade fixed up over him on a bamboo pole, in front of him a kind of platform spread across the front of his moored boat, and upon it sat perched eight or nine of my old friends the cormorants, one of which dived into the river from time to time, and soon after emerged and made its way back to the boat with a fish in its beak.

"See that, Mr Brooke?" I cried eagerly. "I suppose we can't stop to watch them?"

"Not when on Her Majesty's service, Herrick," he said, with a smile, and we glided rapidly on, till the houses, which had long been growing scattered, finally disappeared, and we were following the windings of the river in company with a few small junks and sampans, which seemed bound for one of the cities higher up the great waterway.

"Shoot bird now," said Ching, in answer to an inquiring look from Mr Brooke.

"Yes; but do you think the junks are up here?"

"Oh yes, velly quite su'e. Plenty eye in boat watchee see what Queen Victolia offlicer going to do uppee river."

"What does he mean?" said Mr Brooke, who was puzzled by this last rather enigmatical speech. "Of course we have watchful eyes in our boat, but I don't see anything yet worth watching."

"He means that very likely there are friends of the pirates in one of these boats, and that we had better begin shooting, so as to take off attention from our real purpose."

"Yes, allee same; p'laps pilate fliend in lit' boat go and tell Queen Victolia foleign devil sailor boy come catchee."

"Oh, I see," said Mr Brooke. Then, turning to me, "You do understand a little French, don't you?"

"Well, sir, I used to learn some at school," I replied, feeling very doubtful about my proficiency.

"I daresay you can understand my Stratford-atte-Bow French," said Mr Brooke, laughing.

"I'll try, sir," I said; and he said to me directly in excellent French—

"I feel doubtful about this man. You have seen more of him than I have. Do you think he is honest, or leading us into a trap?"

"Honest, sir," I said, "I feel certain."

"Well, then, we will trust him fully; but if he betrays us, and I can get a last shot—well, then—"

"He'll be sorry for it, sir," I said, for Mr Brooke did not finish his remark.

"Exactly; get out your gun and put on your cartridge belt."

I followed his example, and Ching smiled.

"Velly good thing," he said. "Now pilate fliend, see jolly sailor boy, and say—Come killee duck-bird, goose-bird to make nicee dinner, not come catchee catchee pilate."

"You hear what this man says, my lads?" said the young lieutenant, addressing the men.

"Ay, ay, sir."

"Then you understand now that we have not only come up to shoot?"

"Ay, ay, sir."

"Keep your rifles and cutlasses quite handy in case they are wanted. No confusion, mind, but at the word be ready."

Mr Brooke's words seemed to send a thrill through the men, who pulled on now with a more vigorous stroke, while, with our guns charged, and the butts resting on our knees, we gave place to the coxswain, who took the tiller.

"We'll go forward, Herrick," said my companion; and he stepped over the thwarts into the coxswain's place, and I sat by him, watching alternately for birds, junks, and creeks, up which the latter might lie.

"Begin shootee soon," said Ching rather anxiously.

"Why?"

"Velly muchee sail boat behind think why we come."

"There goes something, Herrick," said Mr Brooke just then, and I looked up and saw a bird flying over the river at a tremendous rate.

I raised my piece quickly, fired, and as soon as I was a little clear of the smoke, fired again.

"You hit him, sir!" said our stroke-oar. "I see him wag his tail."

"It was a miss," I said quietly.

"Velly good," whispered Ching. "Allee men in other boat look see;" while I replaced the cartridges in my gun, and looked shoreward, to see that the land was level for miles, and that little flocks of duck or other birds were flying here and there. Soon after a wisp of about a dozen came right over head, and as they approached the men rested upon their oars till Mr Brooke had fired, without result.

He looked at me and smiled, while the men pulled again, and we went merrily along, getting a shot now and then, but the result for the game-bag was very meagre indeed, at which I was not surprised on my own account, but I fully expected Mr Brooke to have done some good.

And still we went on along the great river, with the country, save for the distant mountains, looking wonderfully English, and making it hard to believe that we were in China. In places where we were close to the shore I could see forms of growth different to our own, but at a little distance the trees, shrubs, and reeds looked much the same as those we should have encountered at home, and I confess to feeling a little disappointed. Then all at once, as if he too were suffering from the same sensation, Mr Brooke spoke.

"They will laugh at us when we get back, Herrick," he said, "as far as our birds are concerned, but I am beginning to think that we shall find the pirate junks are somewhere up here."

"You think so, sir? Look, a flock coming this way!"

"Of pirate junks?" he said drily.

"No, sir, ducks."

"Give it them, then, my lad—both barrels."

I took aim and fired both barrels quickly one after the other, but as I drew trigger I felt that I had done wrong, for I had aimed right in front of the swiftly-flying flock.

"Umbrellas up!" shouted one of the men. "Rains geese!" and there was a cheer and a roar of laughter, as one by one five geese fell with a splash in the river, two to lie perfectly still while they were retrieved—the others, poor birds, to make desperate efforts to swim broken-winged away, but to be shot one by one by Mr Brooke, and after a sharp row dragged into the boat.

"Velly nicee," said Ching, smiling.

"Yes, I must take lessons in shooting from you, Mr Herrick," said the young lieutenant, smiling. "It's my turn next."

I felt hot and uncomfortable, for my success seemed to be the result of pure accident, and I said so, but Mr Brooke laughed and shook his head.

"Never mind the birds, Herrick," he said; "I feel sure our other game is close by somewhere."

"Yes, up cleek somewhere," said Ching.

"Why do you say that?"

"No pointee—no look. I tell you," said the Chinaman, taking up and pretending to examine the mottled brown wing of the goose he opened out. "Boat come behind, pilate fliend come see which way we go."

"Yes, I'm sure you are right," said Mr Brooke, taking up another of the birds; "and if I'm not very much mistaken, that other boat you see ahead has his eye upon us."

"Ching not velly sure, p'laps; only see one man look over side thlee times."

"There's a bit of a river runs off here, sir, to the right," said one of the men, nodding to his left, where there was an opening in a patch of forest which came down to the river, with fine timber trees overhanging the muddy banks, and their branches every here and there showing dead grass and reeds caked with mud, as if at times this part of the country was deeply flooded.

"Yes," said Ching very quietly; "p'laps plenty mud up there. Go see."

"And while we are up a side branch of the river, they may come down the main stream and escape."

Ching shook his head.

"Fliend say pilate junk hide up liver in cleek."

"Yes, but—"

"Wait lit' bit," said Ching, with a cunning look. "Go up lit' way, shoot birds, and no lit' boat come after, no pilate fliend. If come after, plenty muchee pilate fliend, and junk not vellee far."

"He's right, Herrick," said Mr Brooke, nodding. "Turn up the side branch, my lads. Keep up the comedy of the shooting, and have a shot at something."

"But there's nothing to shoot at, sir," I said, feeling rather doubtful of the accuracy of Ching's ideas.

But as we turned up the narrow branch of the river—a creek not much wider than an English canal, I caught sight of a black-looking bird, which rose from the water and flew away paddling the surface with its feet.

I fired and dropped the bird, but it flapped along, and the men cheered and pulled in chase for two or three hundred yards before it was retrieved.

"It's a sort of moor-hen," I said, as I looked up from my captive.

"One of the pirate's hens, perhaps, Herrick," said Mr Brooke, smiling.

"Well, Ching, had we better go on?"

"Yes, go 'long," said the Chinaman rather huskily. "Velly good place."

We rowed on for another three or four hundred yards, the branch winding a great deal, so that we seemed to be in a succession of lakes, while the trees on either side completely shut us in.

"Stream runs very fast," I said.

"Yes, velly fast," said Ching.

"There, I think we had better turn back now," said Mr Brooke, but Ching smiled in a curious way.

"What go turnee back? Pilate fliend both come in cleek after, to see what Queen Victolia jolly sailor boy go to do."

"Are you sure?" said Mr Brooke excitedly.

"Yes, sir, I see the top of one of their sails," said Tom Jecks.

"Then, by George, we are in the right track," cried Mr Brooke, and, as my heart began to beat rapidly, "Give way, my lads," he cried, "give way."



CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

A STARTLING.

"What are we going to do?" I said, with my heart beating fast.

"Afraid?" said Mr Brooke in a whisper.

"I don't know, sir—a little," I replied.

"We're not going to fight, Herrick. I shall go on and find the junks so as to know them again—take their portraits in our minds—and then go back for help. They can't escape out of the river, and once we know them, our boats can soon follow and bring them to book."

The men pulled as if their hearts were in their work, and upon rounding a bend, there, about a quarter of a mile away, lay two large vessels, moored close up to the trees.

"We'll keep up the idea that we are shooting," said Mr Brooke. "No, there is no need now. We have kept it up long enough. We must reconnoitre and go back. They will think still that we are a shooting-party, and not know that we are making for them."

"Of course not," I said thoughtfully. "How could they know we had heard?"

We rowed steadily on for a minute or two, and then Ching said quietly—

"One boat—two boat come behind."

We glanced back, and there, sure enough, were the sailing craft, which had been hanging about in front and aft, coming steadily along in our wake. A moment or two later Ching spoke again—

"Look over boat side, see jolly sailor boy."

"Never mind those boats," said Mr Brooke impatiently.

"Steady, my lads, hold hard now; that's right," he continued, as the oars were held, and checked the boat's progress. "Now, Mr Herrick, take a good look at them. Do you think we should know them again if you saw them coming down the river?"

"Yes, sir," I said; "the stern of this one and bows of the other would be unmistakable. I don't think I could make a blunder."

"No; almost impossible; pull starboard, back water, port side. Now, we'll just turn and row gently back. I don't see any men on board."

"All lie down flat," said Ching sharply. "Plenty men aboard."

"Ah, well, it does not matter. I'm not going to run risks by attacking the savages. Lift your gun and look about, Herrick. Let them keep in the same mind."

I stood up in the boat at this, and noted how rapidly the tide was running up as Mr Brooke gave the word to pull again.

The movement of the boat brought me in full view of the two sampans which had followed us, each with a man and boy aboard; and now, as I looked, I was surprised to see a yellow head raised and begin watching us. Then another; and Ching said quickly—"Lot men in both boats."

I don't know how they had stowed themselves, but now, to our intense astonishment, head after head appeared, till Mr Brooke exclaimed—

"Why, the boats are packed full of men."

"Yes, and the junks too," I whispered hastily; for their decks, which a few moments before had appeared to be bare, were now crowded.

"Trapped, Herrick!" said Mr Brooke through his set teeth. "Is this a trick on the part of Mr Ching?"

The men were looking hard at us, and they did not have long to wait.

"Arms ready, my lads?"

"Ay, ay, sir."

"That's right. Now then, lay your backs to it, and row with all your might."

"Ay, ay, sir."

"What are you going to do?" I said huskily.

"Run for it. The junks can't follow against this tide. We must row out into the river. Keep your fire till I give orders. They may not try to stop us. If they do, I shall try and ram one. We have four barrels for the other, without troubling the men."

"You don't think it's a false alarm?"

"No," he said sternly; "the falsity lies somewhere else."

"He means Ching," I said, but there was no time for much thought, not even to see a great deal. The men grasped the situation as soon as the boat's head was straight, and Mr Brooke took the tiller in his left hand, his gun in his right, and cocked it, while I followed suit.

Then I felt disposed to laugh as Ching made a dive down, and began to crawl under the thwarts among the men's legs, but the laugh changed to a serious grin as Mr Brooke steered to pass between the two boats, when the course of one was changed so as to throw her right athwart our way, and quite a dozen men rose up in each, armed with clumsy swords, yelling at us, and dancing about as they gesticulated and seemed to be trying to frighten us back.

"Very well, if you will have it," said Mr Brooke between his teeth. "Be ready, my lads. Cutlasses, if they try to board."

A sound like the exhaustion of a heavy breath escaped from the men, and Mr Brooke roared at them to pull, while I sat with my finger on the first trigger and the gun lowered a little, gazing wildly at the savage crew before us.

Those moments were like long minutes, but I could make out that, instead of frightening us, the men in the boat which crossed us were now frightened themselves, and they made an effort to give us room.

But there were too many of them—they got in each other's way. Then there was a wild shriek, a crash, and the head of our fast cutter crashed into them, driving their bows round, partly forcing them under water, and the flimsily-built boat began rapidly to fill.

The second party held a little aloof, too much startled by the boldness of our manoeuvre to attempt to help their companions, so that we had only the first boat to tackle, as such of the men as could trampled over one another in their struggle to get on board us.

But the moment the crash had come our lads sprang up with a cheer, and, forgetting their proper weapons, let go at the enemy with their oars, using them as spears and two-handed swords, and with such effect that in less than a minute the wretches were driven back or beaten into the water, to swim to and cling to their half-sunken boat, whose light bamboos refused to go right down.

"Now pull—down with you—pull!" roared Mr Brooke, and, thanks to Mr Reardon's grand "dishipline," every man dropped into his place, and the boat, which had come to a standstill, now began to move forward, while the tide carried the enemy towards their junks, from whence came now as savage a yelling as that from the boats.

"Without firing a shot," cried Mr Brooke exultantly. "Pull, boys. Now, a cheer! they can't follow us against this tide."

The men sent up a triumphant shout, and, as we swept round the next bend, we lost sight of the junks, and directly after of the two boats, the last I saw of them being that the crew of the second were dragging their companions of the first out of the water, and loading their own down to the gunwale edge.

"Now," cried Mr Brooke, "who's hurt?"

There was no answer for a moment or two. Then one of the men said, with a grin—

"I arn't drownded, sir; but I shall ketch cold if something arn't done— my feet's wet."

"Yes, so velly wet," cried a plaintive voice, and Ching struggled up from the bottom of the boat, and stood up, showing his blue cotton garments to be drenched with water.

"What, have we sprung a leak?" cried Mr Brooke.

"Yes, sir," said Tom Jecks, "she's got a hole in her skin here forrard; but if I might be so bold, sir, if you was to send Mr Ching to lean up agin it, we shouldn't hurt much."

"Pull—pull steady," cried Mr Brooke. "Here, take the tiller, Mr Herrick."

He laid his gun behind us and handed me the rudder, before going right forward to the coxswain, while I sat envying the men their coolness as they sat pulling away nonchalantly enough, though the water was rising fast and nearly covered their bare feet and ankles, while it soon invaded the grating upon which my own boot-covered feet were placed.

"Much injured, sir?" I shouted; and Mr Brooke gave me back poor Mercutio's answer to his friend, in Romeo and Juliet—

"'Tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door: but 'tis enough; 'twill serve."

"Here, my lads, one of you; I must have a frock."

"Right, sir, mine'll do," said the coxswain, unfastening and dragging his white duck garment over his head.

This was soaked and wrung out to make it softer, and then thrust into the hole in our bows.

"There, you must sit forward here, and plant both feet against it, my lad," said Mr Brooke.

"Ay, ay, sir. Men never knows what he may come to. Fancy my toots being used to caulk a leak!"

He, laughing, sat down on the forward thwart, and pressed his feet against the jacket.

"Now then, a man to bale," cried Mr Brooke, and the coxswain fished the tin baler out of the locker forward. "No; pass it here," continued our leader. "Pull away, my lads, and Mr Herrick and I will take it in turns to bale. We must get out of this narrow creek as soon as we can."

"Me balee water out," squeaked Ching, who looked very wet and miserable.

"No, thank you," said Mr Brooke coldly.

"Beg pardon, sir; I've got nothin' to do but sit here like a himage," said the coxswain; "I can reach down and bale."

"Without shifting your feet?"

"Yes, sir; look here."

The man took the baler, and began to send the water, which still came in but slowly, over the side; while, after satisfying myself that we should not be obliged to run our boat ashore and tramp back to the city, I kept on directing anxious glances backward to see if we were pursued.

"We shan't sink, Herrick," said Mr Brooke, returning to my side; while, after glancing at my very serious, and at the young lieutenant's stern countenance, Ching crept forward under the oars to where the coxswain was baling, and, getting a second tin from the locker, he seated himself, tucked his loose things out of the way, and began meekly to toss out the water as fast as he could scoop it up.

"That fellow's a traitor," said Mr Brooke to me in a low voice, after a glance back by Ching.

"Oh no, I hope not, sir," I said.

"I wish I could hope so too, my lad. There's a deal of cunning in his plans, and he tried hard to make it seem that he was all the time working upon our side; but I feel as if he has led us into a trap, and we were very nearly coming to our end in it without a man left to tell the tale."

"But why, sir? What object could he have?"

"Plunder, for one thing; our boat, and weapons such as they cannot get. Yes, I believe that he is in league with those pirates."

"Oh, I can't think it, Mr Brooke," I cried. "He has served us so well."

"Yes, to gain his own ends."

"But surely he wouldn't do such a base thing for the sake of getting a paltry share in these rifles and cutlasses?"

"He would have the satisfaction of seeing us massacred."

"But what satisfaction could that be, sir?" I cried. "We have always been his friends."

"The Chinese hate the outer barbarians and foreign devils, as they call us, my lad. They are obliged to tolerate our presence, but the common people, as you know well, would feel an intense pleasure in murdering every European they came across."

"All the same, sir," I said, "I don't believe poor old Ching would do anything that was against us."

"Well, we shall see. But what an escape, my lad! What a trap we were in!"

"And how capital to get out of it without having a man hurt."

"It's splendid, my lad. The captain will be delighted at that, and forgive me about the boat."

"But we had to run away, sir," I said.

"Rather strange running away to charge that boat as we did! But don't you take it into your head, my lad, that it is cowardly to retreat at the proper time. It is madness to go throwing away the lives of your men when you can do no good by fighting. It might sound very grand and heroic for us to have fought both those boats, and then tried to capture the junks; but we must have been cut to pieces in the attempt, and what then—"

"We should have been able to say that we did not turn tail upon our enemies."

"No, we should not, my boy, because there would not have been a soul left to tell the story. There, my lad, don't indulge in romance. He is the best commander who gains victories at the smallest cost of blood to his country.—Ha, at last! how much longer the creek seems coming back than it did going up."

"Running against the tide, too," I cried; and the next minute we glided out into the big stream, crossed the river, and settled down to a quiet, steady row on the far side, where the eddy enabled us to make a very fine rate of speed.

But our rate did not satisfy Mr Brooke, who kept on looking at his watch as the time went on, and we found that the swift tide had carried us much farther than we thought for.

"We shall never get back at this rate," said Mr Brooke, "and it can't be very long before the tide turns, and then those scoundrels will come sailing down, perhaps pass us before we can get to the Teaser."

"Hardly," I ventured to observe.

"Well, no; you are right," he said. "I am too impatient. We have a good start, and must get to the gunboat long before they can."

Meanwhile Tom Jecks sat fast, pressing his feet against the jacket placed over the hole, and kept baling, while Ching took his time from him, and used his baler with enough skill to help get rid of a great deal of water, so that the boat was freed to an extent which set aside all danger of our sinking; but with all their efforts they never got beyond a certain point, for the water oozed in pretty constantly through and round the extempore plug.

At last, faint with heat and nearly exhausted, we came in sight of the first straggling houses, then they grew more close together, and fields and gardens gave place to the closely-packed habitations. For we had reached the town, though even then we had quite a long row before we could reach the Teaser.

The final stretch came at last—just about a quarter of a mile to traverse, and then we should be alongside.

"Thank goodness!" said Mr Brooke, drawing a deep breath; "I don't know when I have felt so anxious. Now, my lads, only another five minutes—a long pull and a strong pull, and all together."

The men cheered and pulled, sending the boat merrily along now, for the tide was close upon its highest point, and for some little time it grew more and more sluggish before the coxswain cried out—

"She's swung round, sir; tide's with us."

"Ha!" ejaculated Mr Brooke. "Then we shall get to the Teaser in time. They couldn't start from the creek with those light junks till now."

"How much farther is it, sir?" I said, as he stood up and shaded his eyes with his hand.

"It can't be many hundred yards," he replied. "It must be just beyond that head where the boats lie so thick. Yes, off that temple there up on the hill."

The men gave a cheer, and the boat sped on fast now, feeling the push given by the falling tide, and the short distance that lay between us; and the spot where we had lain at anchor so many days was soon traversed—the latter part in perfect silence, with Mr Brooke standing in the stern-sheets gazing straight ahead, and turning his eyes from side to side of the busy water thoroughfare.

"She has shifted her moorings," he said at last.

"Has she, sir?" I replied, as I recalled how the furnace fires were going and the Teaser was getting up steam when we started.

"Yes; how tiresome!" he muttered. "Just, too, when we want to communicate at once."

"But you can see her, sir?"

"No, my lad, no," he cried. "How can I see her if she is not here?"

"But I thought you said she had shifted her moorings, sir?"

"Yes, and gone down the river somewhere. Hang it all, she can't have sailed without us."

"They wouldn't do that, sir," I cried, feeling quite startled at the idea of the ship leaving us with our small boat in the midst of strangers. "Why, she must have had news of some other junks, sir, and gone in pursuit, or is it a mistake? We can't have come far enough. No; this is the spot."

The men were looking at me inquiringly, just as men accustomed to be led lean on their superiors for orders, even if one of those superiors be a mere boy, while I, acting in precisely the same spirit, looked up to Mr Brooke, and listened excitedly for what he would say next.

It seemed to be a long time before he spoke, and then it was between his teeth and with angry vehemence, as he dropped down into his seat.

"After all this hard struggle to get back with our news," he muttered, in so low a tone that I only heard his words, while the men sat with their oars balanced gazing forward to see if they could make out the Teaser's funnel and tall spars. "They ought not to have stirred; it's playing at dog and the shadow. Here have we brought the substance, and they are snapping at the reflection."

"Mr Brooke!" I said in a whisper.

"All right, my boy; don't be down-hearted. It's the fortune of sea life. Here we are, tired, hungry, and hot, with a badly leaking boat, and a far from friendly place to land in and get her repaired."

"But they can't have gone far," I said.

"I don't know, my lad. Had some news of pirates, perhaps. All I know now is that they've left us in the lurch."



CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

AN EXCHANGE.

"Now then," said Mr Brooke, after a few minutes' pause, "what's the first thing, Herrick? We can't keep watch for the junks in this boat."

"The first thing is to get her mended, sir."

"Yes; but how?"

"Let's ask Ching."

"Ching!" said Mr Brooke angrily.

"You wantee Ching?" came in the familiar highly-pitched voice from forward. "You wantee Ching go buy new boatee?"

He came hurrying aft, nearly tumbling once; while, left to his own power alone, the coxswain redoubled his efforts to keep down the water, and the tin baler went scoop scroop, scoop scroop, and splash splash, as he sent the water flying.

But the dark, angry expression of Mr Brooke's countenance repelled the Chinaman, and he stopped short and looked from one to the other in a pleading, deprecating way, ending by saying piteously—

"You no wantee Ching?"

Mr Brooke shook his head, and our interpreter went back over the thwarts, reseated himself, and began to bale again, with his head bent down very low.

"Give way, my lads," said Mr Brooke, bearing hard on the tiller, and the boat began to bear round as he steered for the landing-place a quarter of a mile away.

I looked up at him inquiringly, and he nodded at me.

"We can't help it, Herrick," he said; "if we stop afloat with the boat in this condition we shall have a serious accident. But we shall lose the junks."

"Oh!" I ejaculated, "and after all this trouble. We had been so successful too. Couldn't we repair the boat?"

"If we could run into a good boat-builder's we might patch it up, but we can do nothing here."

"Couldn't Ching show us a place?"

"I can't ask the scoundrel."

I winced, for I could not feel that Ching had deceived us, and for a few moments I was silent. Then a thought struck me.

"May I ask him, sir?"

Mr Brooke was silent for a while, but he spoke at last.

"I hate risking his help again, but I am ready to do anything to try and carry out my instructions. We ought to patrol the river here to wait for the junks coming down, and then follow them, even if it is right down to sea. Well, yes; ask him it he can take us to a boat-builder's, where we can get some tarpaulin or lead nailed on."

I wasted no time. "Ching!" I cried; and he looked up sadly, but his face brightened directly as he read mine.