Chapter Forty.

Chapter Forty.Another Enemy.For as I looked towards the horizon away to the east, a curious lurid glow spread upward half-way to the zenith, and for the moment I thought that in a short time we should see the full-moon come slowly up out of the sea. But a few moments’ reflection told me that we were long past the full-moon time, and that it would be the last quarter late on in the night. The sea, too, began to wear a singular aspect, and great frothy clouds were gathering rapidly in the south. And even as I looked there was a peculiar moaning sigh, as if a great wind were passing over us at a great height, though the sea was only just pleasantly rippled, and a gentle breeze was sweeping us rapidly along and away from the great junk, which now seemed hazy and distant, while those we had watched so long were quite out of sight.“Feel cold?” said Mr Brooke quietly. “I ought to have told you to take off and wring out your clothes.”“Cold, sir!” I said wonderingly. “I hadn’t thought about it; I was so excited.”“Yes; we had a narrow escape, my lad. It is a lesson in being careful with these cunning, treacherous wretches. You made sure it was a trader, Ching?”“Ching neve’ quite su’e—only think so,” was the reply, accompanied by a peculiar questioning look, and followed by a glance over his right shoulder at the sky.“No, I suppose not. I ought to have been more careful. They threw something down at the boat as soon as we had mounted: did they not, Jecks?”“Yes, sir; I see it coming. Great pieces of ballast iron, as it took two on ’em to heave up over the bulwarks. I just had time to give the boat a shove with the hitcher when down it come. Gone through the bottom like paper, if I hadn’t. But beg pardon, sir, arn’t we going to have a storm?”“Yes,” said Mr Brooke quietly; “I am running for the river, if I can make it. If not, for that creek we were in last night. Take the tiller, Mr Herrick,” he said, and he went forward.“Going blow wind velly high. Gleat wave and knock houses down,” said Ching uneasily.“Yes, my lad; we’re going to have what the Jay-pans calls a tycoon.”“No, no, Tom Jecks,” I said, smiling.“You may laugh, sir, but that’s so. I’ve sailed in these here waters afore and been in one. Had to race afore it with bare poles and holding on to the belaying-pins. Tycoons they call ’em, don’t they, Mr Ching?”“Gleat blow storm,” said Ching, nodding. “Hullicane.”“There you are, sir,” said Jecks. “Hurricanes or tycoons.”“Typhoons,” I said.“Yes, sir, that’s it, on’y you pernounces it different to me. Don’t make no difference in the strength on ’em,” he continued testily, for his wound was evidently painful, “whether you spells it with a kay or a phoo. Why, I seed big vessels arterwards, as had been blowed a quarter of a mile inland, where they could never be got off again.”“Yes, I’ve heard of that sort of thing,” I said. “They ride in on a great wave and are left behind.”“Lookye here, sir,” whispered the coxswain, who seemed to ignore his wound; “I don’t want to show no white feathers, nor to holler afore I’m hurt, but if I was you, I should ask Mr Brooke to run straight for the nearest shore—say one o’ them islands there, afore the storm comes; you arn’t got no idea what one o’ them tycoons is like. As for this boat, why, she’ll be like a bit o’ straw in a gale, and I don’t want to go to the bottom until I’ve seed you made a skipper; and besides, we’ve got lots more waspses’ nests to take, beside polishing off those three junks—that is, if they’re left to polish when the storm’s done.”“Stand up, Mr Herrick,” cried the lieutenant. “Look yonder, due north. What do you see?”I held the tiller between my knees as I stood up and gazed in the required direction, but could see nothing for a few minutes in the dusk.“Can’t you see?”“Yes, sir, now. Small round black cloud.”“Yes, of smoke.”“Ay, ay, sir, I see it,” said one of the sailors. “Hooray! it’s theTeaserwith the wind blowing hard astern and carrying the smoke of her funnel right over her and ahead.”“TheTeaseror some other steamer; and she’s running fast for harbour. Let’s see: those are the Black Gull Islands to port there. Were you with us when the cutter’s crew landed, Jecks?”“Yes, sir; I rowed stroke-oar, sir.”“To be sure. The second one from the north had the highest ground.”“Yes, sir; but you couldn’t land for the surf and the shark-fin rocks, if you remember.”“Exactly; and we rowed along the south channel till we found a sheltered sand-cove, where we beached the cutter, and then explored the island. We must make for that channel, and try to reach it before the storm comes down. We could not get half-way to the river, and, thank heaven, theTeasetwill soon be in safety.”“No, sir, you couldn’t make no river to-night.”“It will be dark too soon.”“Not to-night, sir,” said Jecks sturdily.“Yes, man; there will be no moon.”“No, sir; but in less nor an hour’s time the sea ’ll be white as milk, and all of a greeny glow, same as it is some still nights in port. There won’t be no difficulty, sir, about seeing.”“But you think it will be hard to make the channel?”“I hope not, sir, but I’m afraid so; we can only try.”“Yes, we can only try,” said Mr Brooke slowly, as he came and sat beside me. “And we must try, Herrick—our best. For this is no night to be out in almost an open boat.”“Then you think there is danger, sir?” I said anxiously.“No, Herrick,” he replied, smiling; “sailors have no time to think of danger. They have enough to think about without that. We must get in the lee of that island to-night, and it the storm holds back, and the little boat spins along like this, we ought to do it.”“And if it doesn’t, sir?”“If it doesn’t? Ah, well, we shall see. Stand by, two of you, ready to lower that sail at a moment’s notice.”“Ay, ay, sir,” was the ready reply as two of the men changed their places; and just then I looked at Ching, to see that his face was lit up by the reflection of the strange light on our right and behind, which grew more striking, while away before us the land disappeared, and we were gazing at a bank of clouds of an inky black.The effect was very curious: behind us the dull coppery glow becoming fainter minute by minute, as the darkness increased the blackness before us; and one’s instinct seemed to warn one to turn from the black darkness to sail away towards the light. Tom Jecks took the same idea, and said, in an irritable whisper, exactly what I thought—“Seems rum, sir, don’t it, sir?—makes believe as that’s the best way, when all the time the wussest looking is the safest.”Just then, after a glance round, Mr Brooke uttered another warning to the men to be ready, and settled himself down to the tiller.“Sit fast, all of you; the hurricane may be down upon us at any moment now.”I looked at him wonderingly, for it was painfully still, though the darkness was growing intense, and the great junk seemed to have been swallowed up by the clouds that hung low like a fog over the sea.“There will be such a turmoil of the elements directly,” continued Mr Brooke in a low voice, but only to me, “that I don’t suppose a word will be heard.” Then aloud, “Look here, my lads; I shall try and run the boat high upon the sands at the top of some breaker. Then it will be every man for himself. Never mind the boat—that is sure to be destroyed—but each man try to save his arms and ammunition; and if the two wounded men are in difficulties, of course you will lend a hand. Now then, one more order: The moment I say, ‘Down with the sail,’ drag it from the mast, and two oars are to be out on either side. The wind will catch them and send us along, and I want them to give a few dips to get on the top of a roller to carry us in.”“Ay, ay, sir.”“That’s all.”His words in that terrible stillness sounded to me as almost absurd, for the sea was still calm, and save that sighing in the air of which I have before spoken, there was no further sound; and at last I said to him—“Do you really think we shall have a hurricane?”“Look at the sky, my lad,” he replied; “and take this as a lesson to one who will have men’s lives depending upon his knowledge and skill some day. If ever there were signs of an awful night in the Chinese seas, it is now. Hark at that!”“Guns! TheTeaser!” I exclaimed excitedly.“Heaven’s artillery that, my lad,” he said solemnly. Then in a whisper, “Shake hands! I’ll help you all I can, Herrick, but heaven knows how we shall be situated soon.”I felt a strange sensation of awe creep over me, as he gripped my hand warmly, and then snatched his away, and sat up firm and rigid, turning his head to the east as all now became suddenly black—so dark that I could hardly see the men before me and the sail. But still we glided rapidly on over the long smooth rollers, on and on toward the islands, which lay a short distance from the mainland.“It will be all guess work,” whispered Mr Brooke. “I am keeping her head as near as I can guess for the channel, but the breakers will soon be our only guide.”Then came the heavy roar again, which I had taken for guns, but it did not cease as before, when it sounded like a sudden explosion. It was now continuous, and rapidly increasing.“Thunder?” I asked in a low voice.“Wind. Tremendous. It will be on us in five minutes.”But even then it seemed impossible, for we were still sailing swiftly and gently along towards the channel between the islands, and the roar like distant thunder or heavy guns had once more ceased.“We shall get to the shore first after all,” I whispered.“No.”At that moment there was a sensation as of a hot puff of air behind us. It literally struck my head just as if a great furnace door had been opened, and the glow had shot out on to our necks.“Here she comes,” growled Tom Jecks; “and good luck to us.”And then, as if to carry out the idea of the opened furnace, it suddenly grew lighter—a strange, weird, wan kind of light—and on either side, and running away from us on to the land, the sea was in a wild froth as if suddenly turned to an ocean of milk.“Down with the sail!” shouted Mr Brooke, who had held on to the last moment, so as to keep the boat as long as possible under his governance; and quickly as disciplined men could obey the sail was lowered, and as far as I could see they were in the act of stowing it along the side, when it filled out with a loud report, and was snatched from their hands and gone.“Any one hurt?”“No, sir,” in chorus.“Oars.”I heard the rattle of the two pairs being thrust out. Next Mr Brooke’s words, yelled out by my ear—“sit fast!” and then there was a heavy blow, heavy but soft and pressing, followed by the stinging on my neck as of hundreds of tiny whips, and then we were rushing along over the white sea, in the midst of a mass—I can call it nothing else—of spray, deafened, stunned, feeling as if each moment I should be torn out of my seat, and as if the boat itself were being swept along like lightning over the sea, riding, not on heavy water, but on the spray.Then all was one wild, confusing shriek and roar. I was deafened; something seemed to clutch me by the throat and try to strangle me; huge soft hands grasped me by the body, and tugged and dragged at me, to tear me from my hold; and then, two arms that were not imaginary, but solid and real, went round me, and grasped the thwart on which I sat, holding me down, while I felt a head resting on my lap.I could see nothing but a strange, dull, whitish light when I managed to hold my eyelids up for a moment, but nothing else was visible; and above all—the deafening roar, the fearful buffeting and tearing at me—there was one thing which mastered, and that was the sensation of being stunned and utterly confused. I was, as it were, a helpless nothing, beaten and driven by the wind and spray, onward, onward, like a scrap of chaff. Somebody was clinging to me, partly to save himself, partly to keep me from being dragged out of the boat; but whether Mr Brooke was still near me, whether the men were before me, or whether there was any more boat at all than that upon which I was seated, I did not know. All I knew was that I was there, and that I was safe, in spite of all the attempts made by the typhoon to drag me out and sweep me away like a leaf over the milky sea.It cannot be described. Every sense was numbed. And if any lad who reads this were to take the most terrible storm he ever witnessed, square it, and then cube it, I do not believe that he would approach the elemental disturbance through which we were being hurled.There was a rocky shore in front of us, and another rocky island shore to our left; and between these two shores lay the channel for which we had tried to make. But Mr Brooke’s rule over the boat was at an end the moment the storm was upon us, and, as far as I could ever learn afterwards, no one thought of rocks, channel, saving his life, or being drowned. The storm struck us, and with its furious rush went all power of planning or thinking. Every nerve of the body was devoted to the tasks of holding on and getting breath.How long it lasted—that wild rush, riding on the spray, held as it were by the wind—I don’t know. I tell you I could not think. It went on and on as things do in a horrible dream, till all at once something happened. I did not hear it, nor see it, hardly even felt it. I only know that something happened, and I was being strangled—choked, but in another way. The hands which grasped my throat to keep me from breathing had, I believe, ceased to hold, and something hot and terrible was rushing up my nostrils and down my throat, and I think I then made some effort with my hands. Then I was being dragged along through water and over something soft, and all at once, though the deafening, confusing noise went on, I was not being swept away, but lying still on something hard.I think that my senses left me entirely then for a few moments—not more, for I was staring soon after at the dull light of white water sweeping along a little way off, and breathing more freely as I struggled hard to grasp what it all meant, for I did not know. I saw something dim pass me, and then come close and touch me, as if it sank down by my side; and that happened again and again.But it was all very dream-like and strange: the awful, overwhelming, crushing sound of the wind seemed to press upon my brain so that I could not for a long time think, only lie and try to breathe without catching each inspiration in a jerky, spasmodic way.I suppose hours must have passed, during which I stared through the darkness at the dull whitish phosphorescent glow which appeared through the gloom, and died out, and appeared and died out again and again, passing like clouds faintly illumined in a ghastly way, and all mingled with the confusion caused by that awful roar. Then at last I began to feel that the rush of wind and water was passing over me, and that I was in some kind of shelter; and when I had once hit upon this, I had as it were grasped a clue. I knew that I was lying on stones, and saw that rising above me was a mass of rock, which I knew by the touch, and this stone was sheltering me from the wind and spray.“We must have reached the shore safely, then,” I said to myself, for my head was getting clearer; “and—yes—no—I was not hurt. We were all saved, then.”At that point a terrible feeling of dread came over me. I was safe, but my companions?The shock of this thought threw me back for a bit, but I was soon struggling with the confusion again, and I recalled the fact that I had felt some one touch me as he sank down by my side.Arrived at this point, I turned a little to look, but all was perfectly black. I stretched out my hand and felt about.I snatched it back with a cry of horror. Yes, a cry of horror; for, though I could not hear it, I felt it escape from my lips. I had touched something all wet and cold lying close beside me, and I felt that it was one of my companions who had been cast up or dragged ashore—dead.Shivering violently, I shrank away, and stretched out my hand in the other direction—my left hand now, with my arm numbed, and my shoulder aching when I moved it, as if the joint had become stiffened and would not work.I touched somebody there—something cold and smooth and wet, and drew my hand away again, when, as it glided over the sand, it touched something else round and soft and long, and—yes—plaited. It was a long tail.“Ching!” I ejaculated; and, gaining courage, I felt again in the darkness, to find that it grew thinner. I tried again in the other direction, and once more touched the round wet object, which did not seem so cold, and then the next moment a hand caught mine and held it.I was right; it was Ching. I knew him by his long nails.Not alone! I had a companion in the darkness, one who was nearly as much stunned as I, for he moved no more, but lay holding on by my left hand, and for a time I was content to listen to the savage roar of the wind. But at last, as my brain worked and I mastered the sensation of horror, I began to feel about again with my right hand, till I touched the same cold, wet object I had encountered before.It was an arm, quite bare and cold; while now I could not withdraw my hand, but lay trembling and shuddering, till I felt that perhaps I was not right—that any one lying dead would not feel like that; and my hand glided down to the wrist.I knew nothing about feeling pulses only from having seen a doctor do so, but by chance my fingers fell naturally in the right place in the hollow just above the wrist joint, and a thrill of exultation ran through me, for I could distinctly feel a tremulous beating, and I knew that my imagination had played me false—that the man was not dead.

For as I looked towards the horizon away to the east, a curious lurid glow spread upward half-way to the zenith, and for the moment I thought that in a short time we should see the full-moon come slowly up out of the sea. But a few moments’ reflection told me that we were long past the full-moon time, and that it would be the last quarter late on in the night. The sea, too, began to wear a singular aspect, and great frothy clouds were gathering rapidly in the south. And even as I looked there was a peculiar moaning sigh, as if a great wind were passing over us at a great height, though the sea was only just pleasantly rippled, and a gentle breeze was sweeping us rapidly along and away from the great junk, which now seemed hazy and distant, while those we had watched so long were quite out of sight.

“Feel cold?” said Mr Brooke quietly. “I ought to have told you to take off and wring out your clothes.”

“Cold, sir!” I said wonderingly. “I hadn’t thought about it; I was so excited.”

“Yes; we had a narrow escape, my lad. It is a lesson in being careful with these cunning, treacherous wretches. You made sure it was a trader, Ching?”

“Ching neve’ quite su’e—only think so,” was the reply, accompanied by a peculiar questioning look, and followed by a glance over his right shoulder at the sky.

“No, I suppose not. I ought to have been more careful. They threw something down at the boat as soon as we had mounted: did they not, Jecks?”

“Yes, sir; I see it coming. Great pieces of ballast iron, as it took two on ’em to heave up over the bulwarks. I just had time to give the boat a shove with the hitcher when down it come. Gone through the bottom like paper, if I hadn’t. But beg pardon, sir, arn’t we going to have a storm?”

“Yes,” said Mr Brooke quietly; “I am running for the river, if I can make it. If not, for that creek we were in last night. Take the tiller, Mr Herrick,” he said, and he went forward.

“Going blow wind velly high. Gleat wave and knock houses down,” said Ching uneasily.

“Yes, my lad; we’re going to have what the Jay-pans calls a tycoon.”

“No, no, Tom Jecks,” I said, smiling.

“You may laugh, sir, but that’s so. I’ve sailed in these here waters afore and been in one. Had to race afore it with bare poles and holding on to the belaying-pins. Tycoons they call ’em, don’t they, Mr Ching?”

“Gleat blow storm,” said Ching, nodding. “Hullicane.”

“There you are, sir,” said Jecks. “Hurricanes or tycoons.”

“Typhoons,” I said.

“Yes, sir, that’s it, on’y you pernounces it different to me. Don’t make no difference in the strength on ’em,” he continued testily, for his wound was evidently painful, “whether you spells it with a kay or a phoo. Why, I seed big vessels arterwards, as had been blowed a quarter of a mile inland, where they could never be got off again.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of that sort of thing,” I said. “They ride in on a great wave and are left behind.”

“Lookye here, sir,” whispered the coxswain, who seemed to ignore his wound; “I don’t want to show no white feathers, nor to holler afore I’m hurt, but if I was you, I should ask Mr Brooke to run straight for the nearest shore—say one o’ them islands there, afore the storm comes; you arn’t got no idea what one o’ them tycoons is like. As for this boat, why, she’ll be like a bit o’ straw in a gale, and I don’t want to go to the bottom until I’ve seed you made a skipper; and besides, we’ve got lots more waspses’ nests to take, beside polishing off those three junks—that is, if they’re left to polish when the storm’s done.”

“Stand up, Mr Herrick,” cried the lieutenant. “Look yonder, due north. What do you see?”

I held the tiller between my knees as I stood up and gazed in the required direction, but could see nothing for a few minutes in the dusk.

“Can’t you see?”

“Yes, sir, now. Small round black cloud.”

“Yes, of smoke.”

“Ay, ay, sir, I see it,” said one of the sailors. “Hooray! it’s theTeaserwith the wind blowing hard astern and carrying the smoke of her funnel right over her and ahead.”

“TheTeaseror some other steamer; and she’s running fast for harbour. Let’s see: those are the Black Gull Islands to port there. Were you with us when the cutter’s crew landed, Jecks?”

“Yes, sir; I rowed stroke-oar, sir.”

“To be sure. The second one from the north had the highest ground.”

“Yes, sir; but you couldn’t land for the surf and the shark-fin rocks, if you remember.”

“Exactly; and we rowed along the south channel till we found a sheltered sand-cove, where we beached the cutter, and then explored the island. We must make for that channel, and try to reach it before the storm comes down. We could not get half-way to the river, and, thank heaven, theTeasetwill soon be in safety.”

“No, sir, you couldn’t make no river to-night.”

“It will be dark too soon.”

“Not to-night, sir,” said Jecks sturdily.

“Yes, man; there will be no moon.”

“No, sir; but in less nor an hour’s time the sea ’ll be white as milk, and all of a greeny glow, same as it is some still nights in port. There won’t be no difficulty, sir, about seeing.”

“But you think it will be hard to make the channel?”

“I hope not, sir, but I’m afraid so; we can only try.”

“Yes, we can only try,” said Mr Brooke slowly, as he came and sat beside me. “And we must try, Herrick—our best. For this is no night to be out in almost an open boat.”

“Then you think there is danger, sir?” I said anxiously.

“No, Herrick,” he replied, smiling; “sailors have no time to think of danger. They have enough to think about without that. We must get in the lee of that island to-night, and it the storm holds back, and the little boat spins along like this, we ought to do it.”

“And if it doesn’t, sir?”

“If it doesn’t? Ah, well, we shall see. Stand by, two of you, ready to lower that sail at a moment’s notice.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” was the ready reply as two of the men changed their places; and just then I looked at Ching, to see that his face was lit up by the reflection of the strange light on our right and behind, which grew more striking, while away before us the land disappeared, and we were gazing at a bank of clouds of an inky black.

The effect was very curious: behind us the dull coppery glow becoming fainter minute by minute, as the darkness increased the blackness before us; and one’s instinct seemed to warn one to turn from the black darkness to sail away towards the light. Tom Jecks took the same idea, and said, in an irritable whisper, exactly what I thought—

“Seems rum, sir, don’t it, sir?—makes believe as that’s the best way, when all the time the wussest looking is the safest.”

Just then, after a glance round, Mr Brooke uttered another warning to the men to be ready, and settled himself down to the tiller.

“Sit fast, all of you; the hurricane may be down upon us at any moment now.”

I looked at him wonderingly, for it was painfully still, though the darkness was growing intense, and the great junk seemed to have been swallowed up by the clouds that hung low like a fog over the sea.

“There will be such a turmoil of the elements directly,” continued Mr Brooke in a low voice, but only to me, “that I don’t suppose a word will be heard.” Then aloud, “Look here, my lads; I shall try and run the boat high upon the sands at the top of some breaker. Then it will be every man for himself. Never mind the boat—that is sure to be destroyed—but each man try to save his arms and ammunition; and if the two wounded men are in difficulties, of course you will lend a hand. Now then, one more order: The moment I say, ‘Down with the sail,’ drag it from the mast, and two oars are to be out on either side. The wind will catch them and send us along, and I want them to give a few dips to get on the top of a roller to carry us in.”

“Ay, ay, sir.”

“That’s all.”

His words in that terrible stillness sounded to me as almost absurd, for the sea was still calm, and save that sighing in the air of which I have before spoken, there was no further sound; and at last I said to him—

“Do you really think we shall have a hurricane?”

“Look at the sky, my lad,” he replied; “and take this as a lesson to one who will have men’s lives depending upon his knowledge and skill some day. If ever there were signs of an awful night in the Chinese seas, it is now. Hark at that!”

“Guns! TheTeaser!” I exclaimed excitedly.

“Heaven’s artillery that, my lad,” he said solemnly. Then in a whisper, “Shake hands! I’ll help you all I can, Herrick, but heaven knows how we shall be situated soon.”

I felt a strange sensation of awe creep over me, as he gripped my hand warmly, and then snatched his away, and sat up firm and rigid, turning his head to the east as all now became suddenly black—so dark that I could hardly see the men before me and the sail. But still we glided rapidly on over the long smooth rollers, on and on toward the islands, which lay a short distance from the mainland.

“It will be all guess work,” whispered Mr Brooke. “I am keeping her head as near as I can guess for the channel, but the breakers will soon be our only guide.”

Then came the heavy roar again, which I had taken for guns, but it did not cease as before, when it sounded like a sudden explosion. It was now continuous, and rapidly increasing.

“Thunder?” I asked in a low voice.

“Wind. Tremendous. It will be on us in five minutes.”

But even then it seemed impossible, for we were still sailing swiftly and gently along towards the channel between the islands, and the roar like distant thunder or heavy guns had once more ceased.

“We shall get to the shore first after all,” I whispered.

“No.”

At that moment there was a sensation as of a hot puff of air behind us. It literally struck my head just as if a great furnace door had been opened, and the glow had shot out on to our necks.

“Here she comes,” growled Tom Jecks; “and good luck to us.”

And then, as if to carry out the idea of the opened furnace, it suddenly grew lighter—a strange, weird, wan kind of light—and on either side, and running away from us on to the land, the sea was in a wild froth as if suddenly turned to an ocean of milk.

“Down with the sail!” shouted Mr Brooke, who had held on to the last moment, so as to keep the boat as long as possible under his governance; and quickly as disciplined men could obey the sail was lowered, and as far as I could see they were in the act of stowing it along the side, when it filled out with a loud report, and was snatched from their hands and gone.

“Any one hurt?”

“No, sir,” in chorus.

“Oars.”

I heard the rattle of the two pairs being thrust out. Next Mr Brooke’s words, yelled out by my ear—“sit fast!” and then there was a heavy blow, heavy but soft and pressing, followed by the stinging on my neck as of hundreds of tiny whips, and then we were rushing along over the white sea, in the midst of a mass—I can call it nothing else—of spray, deafened, stunned, feeling as if each moment I should be torn out of my seat, and as if the boat itself were being swept along like lightning over the sea, riding, not on heavy water, but on the spray.

Then all was one wild, confusing shriek and roar. I was deafened; something seemed to clutch me by the throat and try to strangle me; huge soft hands grasped me by the body, and tugged and dragged at me, to tear me from my hold; and then, two arms that were not imaginary, but solid and real, went round me, and grasped the thwart on which I sat, holding me down, while I felt a head resting on my lap.

I could see nothing but a strange, dull, whitish light when I managed to hold my eyelids up for a moment, but nothing else was visible; and above all—the deafening roar, the fearful buffeting and tearing at me—there was one thing which mastered, and that was the sensation of being stunned and utterly confused. I was, as it were, a helpless nothing, beaten and driven by the wind and spray, onward, onward, like a scrap of chaff. Somebody was clinging to me, partly to save himself, partly to keep me from being dragged out of the boat; but whether Mr Brooke was still near me, whether the men were before me, or whether there was any more boat at all than that upon which I was seated, I did not know. All I knew was that I was there, and that I was safe, in spite of all the attempts made by the typhoon to drag me out and sweep me away like a leaf over the milky sea.

It cannot be described. Every sense was numbed. And if any lad who reads this were to take the most terrible storm he ever witnessed, square it, and then cube it, I do not believe that he would approach the elemental disturbance through which we were being hurled.

There was a rocky shore in front of us, and another rocky island shore to our left; and between these two shores lay the channel for which we had tried to make. But Mr Brooke’s rule over the boat was at an end the moment the storm was upon us, and, as far as I could ever learn afterwards, no one thought of rocks, channel, saving his life, or being drowned. The storm struck us, and with its furious rush went all power of planning or thinking. Every nerve of the body was devoted to the tasks of holding on and getting breath.

How long it lasted—that wild rush, riding on the spray, held as it were by the wind—I don’t know. I tell you I could not think. It went on and on as things do in a horrible dream, till all at once something happened. I did not hear it, nor see it, hardly even felt it. I only know that something happened, and I was being strangled—choked, but in another way. The hands which grasped my throat to keep me from breathing had, I believe, ceased to hold, and something hot and terrible was rushing up my nostrils and down my throat, and I think I then made some effort with my hands. Then I was being dragged along through water and over something soft, and all at once, though the deafening, confusing noise went on, I was not being swept away, but lying still on something hard.

I think that my senses left me entirely then for a few moments—not more, for I was staring soon after at the dull light of white water sweeping along a little way off, and breathing more freely as I struggled hard to grasp what it all meant, for I did not know. I saw something dim pass me, and then come close and touch me, as if it sank down by my side; and that happened again and again.

But it was all very dream-like and strange: the awful, overwhelming, crushing sound of the wind seemed to press upon my brain so that I could not for a long time think, only lie and try to breathe without catching each inspiration in a jerky, spasmodic way.

I suppose hours must have passed, during which I stared through the darkness at the dull whitish phosphorescent glow which appeared through the gloom, and died out, and appeared and died out again and again, passing like clouds faintly illumined in a ghastly way, and all mingled with the confusion caused by that awful roar. Then at last I began to feel that the rush of wind and water was passing over me, and that I was in some kind of shelter; and when I had once hit upon this, I had as it were grasped a clue. I knew that I was lying on stones, and saw that rising above me was a mass of rock, which I knew by the touch, and this stone was sheltering me from the wind and spray.

“We must have reached the shore safely, then,” I said to myself, for my head was getting clearer; “and—yes—no—I was not hurt. We were all saved, then.”

At that point a terrible feeling of dread came over me. I was safe, but my companions?

The shock of this thought threw me back for a bit, but I was soon struggling with the confusion again, and I recalled the fact that I had felt some one touch me as he sank down by my side.

Arrived at this point, I turned a little to look, but all was perfectly black. I stretched out my hand and felt about.

I snatched it back with a cry of horror. Yes, a cry of horror; for, though I could not hear it, I felt it escape from my lips. I had touched something all wet and cold lying close beside me, and I felt that it was one of my companions who had been cast up or dragged ashore—dead.

Shivering violently, I shrank away, and stretched out my hand in the other direction—my left hand now, with my arm numbed, and my shoulder aching when I moved it, as if the joint had become stiffened and would not work.

I touched somebody there—something cold and smooth and wet, and drew my hand away again, when, as it glided over the sand, it touched something else round and soft and long, and—yes—plaited. It was a long tail.

“Ching!” I ejaculated; and, gaining courage, I felt again in the darkness, to find that it grew thinner. I tried again in the other direction, and once more touched the round wet object, which did not seem so cold, and then the next moment a hand caught mine and held it.

I was right; it was Ching. I knew him by his long nails.

Not alone! I had a companion in the darkness, one who was nearly as much stunned as I, for he moved no more, but lay holding on by my left hand, and for a time I was content to listen to the savage roar of the wind. But at last, as my brain worked and I mastered the sensation of horror, I began to feel about again with my right hand, till I touched the same cold, wet object I had encountered before.

It was an arm, quite bare and cold; while now I could not withdraw my hand, but lay trembling and shuddering, till I felt that perhaps I was not right—that any one lying dead would not feel like that; and my hand glided down to the wrist.

I knew nothing about feeling pulses only from having seen a doctor do so, but by chance my fingers fell naturally in the right place in the hollow just above the wrist joint, and a thrill of exultation ran through me, for I could distinctly feel a tremulous beating, and I knew that my imagination had played me false—that the man was not dead.

Chapter Forty One.After the Typhoon.The repugnance and horror gave way to a sensation of joy. Here was another companion in misfortune, alive and ready to share the terrible trouble with us, but who was it?I tried to withdraw my left hand from Ching’s grasp; but as soon as he felt it going, he clung to it spasmodically, and it was only by a sharp effort that I dragged it away, and turned to the side of my other companion, and began to touch him. There was the bare arm, but that was no guide; the face helped me no more; but the torn remnants of his clothes told me it was not Mr Brooke, and my heart sank. I felt again, and my hand encountered a drawn-up leg, and then I touched a bandage. It was Tom Jecks, who had been wounded by the fire from the junk.I could learn no more. I tried to speak; I shouted; but he made no sign, and I could not even hear my own cries. The darkness remained profound, and the deafening roar of the wind kept on without cessation.But, feeling more myself at last, I determined to crawl about a little, and find out whether any more of our crew were near us. Then I hesitated; but, summoning courage, I crept on my hands and knees, passed Ching, and then crouched down nearly flat, for I had crept to where the shelter ceased, and to have gone on would have been to be swept away.To test this I raised one hand, and in an instant I suffered quite a jerk, and each time I repeated the experiment I felt more and more that to leave the shelter meant to die, for the power of the blast was appalling.Crawling back, I proceeded in the other direction, and found that I could go what I guessed to be quite a dozen yards, feeling more and more in shelter. Then all at once I reached a point where the wind came through what afterwards proved to be a narrow pass between two masses of rock, and I shrank back disheartened at the barrenness of my search.In that black darkness it was very difficult to find my former position, even in so confined a space, and I found myself completely going wrong, and into the rushing wind, the effect being horribly confusing again. But, after lying flat down on the sand, which kept flying up and nearly blinding me, I grew more composed, and, resuming my search once more, found where my two companions lay; and, after touching our wounded sailor, and finding him lying as I had left him, I began to think of what I could do to help him, but thought in vain. To give help was impossible in the midst of that awful storm, and, utterly exhausted now, I sank back and reached out my left hand once more to try and touch Ching.He was on the alert, and caught my hand in both his, grasping it firmly, as if, boy as I was, he would gladly cling to me for protection; while I, in my horror and loneliness, was only too thankful to feel the touch of a human hand.Then, amid the strange confusion produced by the roar of the wind and thunder of the waves whose spray hissed over our heads, I lay wondering what had become of Mr Brooke and the others—whether they had reached the land, and were screened behind the rocks as we were; then about theTeaser—whether she had been able to make the shelter of the river before the typhoon came down upon them in all its fury.I seemed to see the men at their quarters, with the spars lowered upon deck, the boats doubly secured, and everything loose made fast. I fancied I felt the throb of the engines, and the whirr of the shaft, as it raced when the stern rose at some dive down of the prow; and the sharp “ting-ting” of the engine-room gong-bell struck on my ears above the yelling of the storm, for wild shrieks at times came mingled with the one tremendous overpowering roar.Then I began thinking again about Mr Brooke, and whether, instead of lying there in shelter on the sand, I ought not to be striving with all my might to find him; and all at once the roar over my head, the thunder of the breakers somewhere near, and the hiss and splash of the cutting spray, seemed to cease, and I was crawling about the shore, over sand and rocks, and through pools of water, to find Mr Brooke, while Ching followed me, crying out in piping tones, “Velly long of you. Windee blow allee way.” But still I toiled on, lying flat sometimes, and holding tightly to the rocks beneath me, for fear of being snatched up and sent whirling over the sea. Then on again, to come to a mass of rock, up which I climbed, but only to slip back again, climbed once more and slipped, and so on and on till all was nothingness, save that the deafening roar went on, and the billows dashed among the rocks, but in a subdued far-off way that did not trouble me in the least. For my sleep—the sleep of utter exhaustion—had grown less troubled, the dreamy crawl in search of Mr Brooke died away, and I slept soundly there, till the sun glowing warmly upon my face made me open my eyes, to find Ching’s round smooth yellow face smiling down at me, and Tom Jecks nursing his leg.I started up in wonder, but sank back with a groan, feeling stiff and sore, as if I had been belaboured with capstan bars.“You feel velly bad?” said Ching.“Horribly stiff.”“Hollibly ’tiff; Ching lub you well.”Before I knew what he was about to do, he seized one of my arms, and made me shout with agony, but he moved it here and there, pinching and rubbing and kneading it till it went easily, following it up with a similar performance upon the other. Back and chest followed; and in ten minutes I was a different being.But no amount of rubbing and kneading did any good to my spirits, nor to those of our companion in misfortune, whose wound troubled him a good deal; but he sat up, trying to look cheerful, while, with my head still confused, and thought coming slowly, I exclaimed—“But the storm—the typhoon?”“Allee blow way, allee gone,” cried Ching, smiling; “velly good job. You feel dly?”I did not answer then, for I felt as if I could not be awake. I had been lying in the lee of a huge mass of rock, amid stones and piled-up sand, upon which the sun beat warmly; the sky overhead was of a glorious blue; and there was nothing to suggest the horrors of the past night, but the heavy boom and splash of the billows which broke at intervals somewhere behind the rock.At last I jumped up, full of remorse at my want of thought.“Mr Brooke—the others?” I cried.“We were talking about ’em, sir, ’fore you woke up,” said Jecks sadly; and I now saw that he had received a blow on the head, while he spoke slowly, and looked strange.“And what—”“I’m afraid they’re—”“Allee dlowned; velly much ’flaid.”I groaned.“I don’t know how we managed to get ashore, sir,” said Jecks faintly. “I think it was because there was so little undertow to the waves. When the boat struck, it felt to me as if I was being blown through the shallow water, and I shouldn’t have been here if I hadn’t come up against Mr Ching, who was pulling you along.”“Then you saved me, Ching?” I cried.“Ching takee hold, and pullee here. Velly pull wolk. Him get hold of tow-chang, and pullee him both together.”“That’s right, sir. I snatched at anything, and got hold of his tail, and held on. But you don’t mind, Mr Ching?”“No; mustn’t cut tow-chang off.”“Let’s try if we can find the others,” I said; and, taking the lead, I walked round the mass of rock which had sheltered us, to gaze out at the heaving sea, which was rising and falling restlessly; but there was no white water, all was of a delicious blue, darker than the sky, and not a sail in sight.To right and left extended a low cliff, at whose feet lay huge masses which had fallen from time to time; then an irregular stretch of sand extended to where the waves came curling over, the swell being very heavy, and the only trace of the storm to be seen was the way in which the sand had been driven up against the cliff, so as to form quite a glacis.We could see about half a mile in either direction, but there was no sign of our companions, and my heart sank again. There were, however, here and there, ridges of rock, running down like breakwaters into the sea, and about which it fretted and tossed tremendously; and, in the hope that one of these ridges might hide our friends from our view, I climbed to the top of the highest piece of rock I could reach, and took a long and careful survey.“See anything, sir?” said Tom Jecks.“No,” I replied, “nothing. Yes; about a quarter of a mile on there’s a spar sticking up; it may be the boat’s mast.”I came hurriedly down, and my announcement was enough to set my companions off, Jecks limping painfully through the loose sand, climbing rocks, and finding it no easy task to get over that so-called quarter of a mile, which, like all such spaces on the sea-shore, proved to be about double the length it looked, while the nearer we got the higher and more formidable the ridge seemed to grow, completely shutting out all beyond, where it ran down from the cliff at right angles into the sea.All at once, as I was helping the coxswain over an awkward stone, the poor fellow being weak and rather disposed to stagger, but always passing it off with a laugh and an “All right, sir, I shall be better after breakfast,” Ching uttered an ejaculation, and pointed to something that the sea had washed up, and was pouncing upon again like a cat to draw it back.My heart seemed to stand still, but a horrible fascination drew me to the spot along with the Chinaman, for my first thought was that it was the body of Mr Brooke.“Not jolly sailor boy,” said Ching; and I felt a peculiar exaltation. “Not Mis’ Blooke. Pilate man dlowned. Ching velly glad.”We turned away, and continued our route, for I shrank from going into dangerous breakers to try and drag the man out, and my companion was too weak. As to its being one of the pirates, it seemed possible, for I knew that one, if not two, had gone overboard in the fight, and it was probably one of these.We trudged on and reached the ridge at last, to find it bigger and more precipitous than I had expected. It ran out evidently for hundreds of yards, its course being marked by foam and fretting waves, and I was just thinking what a fatal spot it would be for a vessel to touch the shore, when I reached the top and uttered a startled cry, which brought the others to my side; for there was the explanation of the presence of the drowned Chinaman! Spreading away for a couple of hundred yards, the shore was covered with timbers, great bamboo spars, ragged sails, and the torn and shattered fragments of some large Chinese vessel; while, before I could shape it in my mind as to the possibilities of what vessel this could be, though certain it was not theTeaser, Ching said coolly—“That velly good job. That big junk blow all to pieces, and allee bad pilate man dlowned. No go choppee off poor sailor head now. No ’teal silk, tea, allee good thing, and burnee ship. Velly good job indeed; velly bad lot.”“You think it was the junk which cheated us?”“Yes, velly muchee same. Look, allee paint, lacquee, gold. Allee same junk; no use go find um now. No get head chop off for killee sailo’. Allee bad pilate allee dlowned.”“Hold hard there, sir,” whispered Tom Jecks. “I can hear people talking. Quick! squat, hide; there’s a lot on ’em coming down off the cliff.”We had just time to hide behind some rocks, when a party of about twenty Chinamen came cautiously and slowly down on to the sands, and Ching whispered as he peeped between the fragments of rock—“Not allee pilate dlowned. Come along look at junk; take care; choppee off allee head; must hide.”Ching was quite right, and I was awake to the fact that we three were prisoners on a little desert island, and in company with a gang of as savage and desperate enemies as man could have.

The repugnance and horror gave way to a sensation of joy. Here was another companion in misfortune, alive and ready to share the terrible trouble with us, but who was it?

I tried to withdraw my left hand from Ching’s grasp; but as soon as he felt it going, he clung to it spasmodically, and it was only by a sharp effort that I dragged it away, and turned to the side of my other companion, and began to touch him. There was the bare arm, but that was no guide; the face helped me no more; but the torn remnants of his clothes told me it was not Mr Brooke, and my heart sank. I felt again, and my hand encountered a drawn-up leg, and then I touched a bandage. It was Tom Jecks, who had been wounded by the fire from the junk.

I could learn no more. I tried to speak; I shouted; but he made no sign, and I could not even hear my own cries. The darkness remained profound, and the deafening roar of the wind kept on without cessation.

But, feeling more myself at last, I determined to crawl about a little, and find out whether any more of our crew were near us. Then I hesitated; but, summoning courage, I crept on my hands and knees, passed Ching, and then crouched down nearly flat, for I had crept to where the shelter ceased, and to have gone on would have been to be swept away.

To test this I raised one hand, and in an instant I suffered quite a jerk, and each time I repeated the experiment I felt more and more that to leave the shelter meant to die, for the power of the blast was appalling.

Crawling back, I proceeded in the other direction, and found that I could go what I guessed to be quite a dozen yards, feeling more and more in shelter. Then all at once I reached a point where the wind came through what afterwards proved to be a narrow pass between two masses of rock, and I shrank back disheartened at the barrenness of my search.

In that black darkness it was very difficult to find my former position, even in so confined a space, and I found myself completely going wrong, and into the rushing wind, the effect being horribly confusing again. But, after lying flat down on the sand, which kept flying up and nearly blinding me, I grew more composed, and, resuming my search once more, found where my two companions lay; and, after touching our wounded sailor, and finding him lying as I had left him, I began to think of what I could do to help him, but thought in vain. To give help was impossible in the midst of that awful storm, and, utterly exhausted now, I sank back and reached out my left hand once more to try and touch Ching.

He was on the alert, and caught my hand in both his, grasping it firmly, as if, boy as I was, he would gladly cling to me for protection; while I, in my horror and loneliness, was only too thankful to feel the touch of a human hand.

Then, amid the strange confusion produced by the roar of the wind and thunder of the waves whose spray hissed over our heads, I lay wondering what had become of Mr Brooke and the others—whether they had reached the land, and were screened behind the rocks as we were; then about theTeaser—whether she had been able to make the shelter of the river before the typhoon came down upon them in all its fury.

I seemed to see the men at their quarters, with the spars lowered upon deck, the boats doubly secured, and everything loose made fast. I fancied I felt the throb of the engines, and the whirr of the shaft, as it raced when the stern rose at some dive down of the prow; and the sharp “ting-ting” of the engine-room gong-bell struck on my ears above the yelling of the storm, for wild shrieks at times came mingled with the one tremendous overpowering roar.

Then I began thinking again about Mr Brooke, and whether, instead of lying there in shelter on the sand, I ought not to be striving with all my might to find him; and all at once the roar over my head, the thunder of the breakers somewhere near, and the hiss and splash of the cutting spray, seemed to cease, and I was crawling about the shore, over sand and rocks, and through pools of water, to find Mr Brooke, while Ching followed me, crying out in piping tones, “Velly long of you. Windee blow allee way.” But still I toiled on, lying flat sometimes, and holding tightly to the rocks beneath me, for fear of being snatched up and sent whirling over the sea. Then on again, to come to a mass of rock, up which I climbed, but only to slip back again, climbed once more and slipped, and so on and on till all was nothingness, save that the deafening roar went on, and the billows dashed among the rocks, but in a subdued far-off way that did not trouble me in the least. For my sleep—the sleep of utter exhaustion—had grown less troubled, the dreamy crawl in search of Mr Brooke died away, and I slept soundly there, till the sun glowing warmly upon my face made me open my eyes, to find Ching’s round smooth yellow face smiling down at me, and Tom Jecks nursing his leg.

I started up in wonder, but sank back with a groan, feeling stiff and sore, as if I had been belaboured with capstan bars.

“You feel velly bad?” said Ching.

“Horribly stiff.”

“Hollibly ’tiff; Ching lub you well.”

Before I knew what he was about to do, he seized one of my arms, and made me shout with agony, but he moved it here and there, pinching and rubbing and kneading it till it went easily, following it up with a similar performance upon the other. Back and chest followed; and in ten minutes I was a different being.

But no amount of rubbing and kneading did any good to my spirits, nor to those of our companion in misfortune, whose wound troubled him a good deal; but he sat up, trying to look cheerful, while, with my head still confused, and thought coming slowly, I exclaimed—

“But the storm—the typhoon?”

“Allee blow way, allee gone,” cried Ching, smiling; “velly good job. You feel dly?”

I did not answer then, for I felt as if I could not be awake. I had been lying in the lee of a huge mass of rock, amid stones and piled-up sand, upon which the sun beat warmly; the sky overhead was of a glorious blue; and there was nothing to suggest the horrors of the past night, but the heavy boom and splash of the billows which broke at intervals somewhere behind the rock.

At last I jumped up, full of remorse at my want of thought.

“Mr Brooke—the others?” I cried.

“We were talking about ’em, sir, ’fore you woke up,” said Jecks sadly; and I now saw that he had received a blow on the head, while he spoke slowly, and looked strange.

“And what—”

“I’m afraid they’re—”

“Allee dlowned; velly much ’flaid.”

I groaned.

“I don’t know how we managed to get ashore, sir,” said Jecks faintly. “I think it was because there was so little undertow to the waves. When the boat struck, it felt to me as if I was being blown through the shallow water, and I shouldn’t have been here if I hadn’t come up against Mr Ching, who was pulling you along.”

“Then you saved me, Ching?” I cried.

“Ching takee hold, and pullee here. Velly pull wolk. Him get hold of tow-chang, and pullee him both together.”

“That’s right, sir. I snatched at anything, and got hold of his tail, and held on. But you don’t mind, Mr Ching?”

“No; mustn’t cut tow-chang off.”

“Let’s try if we can find the others,” I said; and, taking the lead, I walked round the mass of rock which had sheltered us, to gaze out at the heaving sea, which was rising and falling restlessly; but there was no white water, all was of a delicious blue, darker than the sky, and not a sail in sight.

To right and left extended a low cliff, at whose feet lay huge masses which had fallen from time to time; then an irregular stretch of sand extended to where the waves came curling over, the swell being very heavy, and the only trace of the storm to be seen was the way in which the sand had been driven up against the cliff, so as to form quite a glacis.

We could see about half a mile in either direction, but there was no sign of our companions, and my heart sank again. There were, however, here and there, ridges of rock, running down like breakwaters into the sea, and about which it fretted and tossed tremendously; and, in the hope that one of these ridges might hide our friends from our view, I climbed to the top of the highest piece of rock I could reach, and took a long and careful survey.

“See anything, sir?” said Tom Jecks.

“No,” I replied, “nothing. Yes; about a quarter of a mile on there’s a spar sticking up; it may be the boat’s mast.”

I came hurriedly down, and my announcement was enough to set my companions off, Jecks limping painfully through the loose sand, climbing rocks, and finding it no easy task to get over that so-called quarter of a mile, which, like all such spaces on the sea-shore, proved to be about double the length it looked, while the nearer we got the higher and more formidable the ridge seemed to grow, completely shutting out all beyond, where it ran down from the cliff at right angles into the sea.

All at once, as I was helping the coxswain over an awkward stone, the poor fellow being weak and rather disposed to stagger, but always passing it off with a laugh and an “All right, sir, I shall be better after breakfast,” Ching uttered an ejaculation, and pointed to something that the sea had washed up, and was pouncing upon again like a cat to draw it back.

My heart seemed to stand still, but a horrible fascination drew me to the spot along with the Chinaman, for my first thought was that it was the body of Mr Brooke.

“Not jolly sailor boy,” said Ching; and I felt a peculiar exaltation. “Not Mis’ Blooke. Pilate man dlowned. Ching velly glad.”

We turned away, and continued our route, for I shrank from going into dangerous breakers to try and drag the man out, and my companion was too weak. As to its being one of the pirates, it seemed possible, for I knew that one, if not two, had gone overboard in the fight, and it was probably one of these.

We trudged on and reached the ridge at last, to find it bigger and more precipitous than I had expected. It ran out evidently for hundreds of yards, its course being marked by foam and fretting waves, and I was just thinking what a fatal spot it would be for a vessel to touch the shore, when I reached the top and uttered a startled cry, which brought the others to my side; for there was the explanation of the presence of the drowned Chinaman! Spreading away for a couple of hundred yards, the shore was covered with timbers, great bamboo spars, ragged sails, and the torn and shattered fragments of some large Chinese vessel; while, before I could shape it in my mind as to the possibilities of what vessel this could be, though certain it was not theTeaser, Ching said coolly—

“That velly good job. That big junk blow all to pieces, and allee bad pilate man dlowned. No go choppee off poor sailor head now. No ’teal silk, tea, allee good thing, and burnee ship. Velly good job indeed; velly bad lot.”

“You think it was the junk which cheated us?”

“Yes, velly muchee same. Look, allee paint, lacquee, gold. Allee same junk; no use go find um now. No get head chop off for killee sailo’. Allee bad pilate allee dlowned.”

“Hold hard there, sir,” whispered Tom Jecks. “I can hear people talking. Quick! squat, hide; there’s a lot on ’em coming down off the cliff.”

We had just time to hide behind some rocks, when a party of about twenty Chinamen came cautiously and slowly down on to the sands, and Ching whispered as he peeped between the fragments of rock—

“Not allee pilate dlowned. Come along look at junk; take care; choppee off allee head; must hide.”

Ching was quite right, and I was awake to the fact that we three were prisoners on a little desert island, and in company with a gang of as savage and desperate enemies as man could have.

Chapter Forty Two.For Dear Life.It was all clear enough: the great junk which had so deceived Mr Brooke and Ching had been cast ashore and shattered, these men having escaped and been exploring the island, or perhaps they were only coming down now from the spot where they had taken refuge after being cast ashore.“Why, Ching,” I whispered, “perhaps there are more of them about!”“P’laps,” he replied.We dared not move, but remained there watching; and it now became pretty evident that the men had come down to examine the wreck, for they began to hurry about, chattering away as they searched in all directions amongst the fragments, one or another setting up a shout from time to time, which brought others to him. Then we saw them drag out now a chest from the sand in which it was bedded, now a cask; and soon after there was a burst of excitement over something we could not make out; but it was evidently a satisfactory find, for they bore it up from the sea to the soft, warm, dry sand, and all sat down round about it.“Find something velly good to eat,” whispered Ching. “Now allee velly busy; come along, hide.”It was very good advice; and we followed him down from the ridge, and in and out at the foot of the cliff, seeking for some place of concealment; for I had not a doubt about our fate if we were seen. In fact, I did not breathe freely until the great ridge and several masses of rock were between us; and only then, a good half-mile away in the direction from which we had come, did we venture to speak above our breath.“Velly big pity,” said Ching, whose face was all in wrinkles. “Velly muchee wish back at fancee shop.”“Let’s find a place before we talk about that,” I said.“Yes; soon findee place.”“Here, what is it, Jecks?” I cried, catching our companion’s arm; for he suddenly gave a lurch as we struggled through the loose sand, and nearly fell.“Bit done up, sir,” he said, with a piteous smile. “Wound in my leg makes me feel sick, and the sun’s hot. Is there a drop o’ water to be got at anywhere?”I looked round at the glowing sand and rocks with a feeling of horrible despair coming over me. Yes, there was water—hundreds and thousands of miles of water, blue, glistening, and beautiful in the calm morning, but none that we could give a parched and fainting man to drink.“Try and creep along a little farther,” I said. “Let’s get you in hiding, and then Ching and I will search for some and bring it—”As I spoke I remembered that I had nothing that would hold water, and I felt constrained to add—“Or fetch you to it.”“All right, sir,” said the man, with a weary smile; “allus obey your officers.”Ching went to his other side, and supported him some fifty yards farther, our way now being through quite a chaos of rocks, which had been loosened in bygone times from the cliff above. Then, so suddenly that we were not prepared, the poor fellow dropped with his full weight upon our arms, and we had to lower him down upon a heap of drifted sand.“No go, sir,” he said softly; “I’m a done-er.”“No, no; rest a bit, and we’ll find a cool place somewhere. I daresay we shall see a cave along here.”“Can’t do it, sir,” he said feebly; “I’ve kep’ on as long as I could. It’s all up. Never mind me. If those beggars see you, they’ll have no mercy on you, so go on and try and get away.”“Yes; velly muchee makee haste. Pilate come soon.”“Yes, sir; he’s quite right, sir. You two cut and run.”“And let them come and murder you, while we go?” I said.“Well, yes, sir,” said the poor fellow faintly; “there’s no good in having three killed when one would do.”“Look about, Ching,” I said sharply. “Is there any place where we can hide?”“No,” he replied disconsolately. “Only place for lit’ dog; no fo’ man.”“You can’t do it, sir,” said our poor companion. “Good-bye, sir, and God bless you; you’ve done all a orficer can.”“Oh, have I? I should look well when Mr Reardon or the captain says, ‘What have you done with your men?’”“Don’t! stop a-talking, sir,” he cried, clinging to my hand. “You know what these beggars are, and you’ll have ’em on to you, sir.”“Yes; and we shall have them on to you if we don’t find a place soon. Here, Ching, don’t run away and leave us;” for I could see the interpreter climbing up a gap in the cliff.“He’s quite right, sir; you go after him. I tell you it’s all over and done with me. If you got me along a bit farther, I should only go off all the same. It’s all up. Now, pray go, sir. It’s no use to stay.”“Hold your tongue!” I cried angrily; for with the feeling on me strong that the pirates might be down on us directly, and the only thing to do was to set off and run for my life, the poor fellow’s imploring words were like a horrible temptation that I was too weak to resist.“I must speak, sir,” he whispered, with his eyes starting, and his lips black and cracked by the heat and feverish thirst caused by his wound. “There, you see, Mr Ching’s gone, and your only chance is to follow him.”I looked up, and just caught sight of one of the Chinaman’s legs as he disappeared over the edge of the cliff to which, high up, he had crawled. And once more the desire to escape came upon me, but with increased strength, that made me so angry at my weakness that I turned upon the poor fellow almost threateningly.“Will you hold your tongue?” I whispered hoarsely.“Will you go, sir?” he pleaded. “I tell yer it’s all up with me, and the Teapots can’t hurt me worse than what I’ve got now. Arn’t got your dirk, have you?”“No; why?”“’Cause it would ha’ been an act o’ kindness to put me out of my misery, and save me from being cut to pieces by them there wretches. Now, sir, good-bye, and God bless you, once more! Tell the skipper I did my duty to the last.”I broke down as I sank on my knees by the poor fellow; and I didn’t know my voice—perhaps it was being husky from the heat-as I said to him, very chokily—“And if you get away, tell the captain I did my duty to the last.”“Yes, sir; but do go now.”I jumped up again, ashamed of the blinding tears that came for a few moments into my eyes.“Look here,” I said; “if you weren’t so weak, I’d kick you, old a man as you are. Likely thing for a British officer to sneak off and leave one of his men like this!”“But the beggars are coming, I’m sure, sir.”“Very well,” I said gloomily, “let them come. It’s all very well for a full-moon-faced Chinaman to go off and take care of himself, but it isn’t English, Tom Jecks, and that you know.”The poor fellow hoisted himself a little round, so that he could hide his face on his uninjured arm, and as I saw his shoulders heave I felt weaker than ever; but I mastered it this time, and knelt there with a whole flood of recollections of home, school, and my ambitions running through my brain. I thought of my training, of my delight at the news of my being appointed to theTeaser, of my excitement over my uniform; and that now it was all over, and that in all probability only the sea-birds would know of what became of me after the Chinamen had done.Then I thought of Ching’s cowardice in leaving me alone with the poor wounded fellow like this.“I knew he wasn’t a fighting man,” I said sadly; “but I couldn’t have believed that he was such a cur.”At that moment there was a quick scrambling sound, which made me start to my feet, and Tom Jecks started up on his elbow.“Here they come, sir,” he gasped. “Now, sir,” he whispered wildly, “do, pray, cut and run.”“With you,” I said resolutely.He made an effort to rise, but fell back with a groan.“Can’t do it, sir. Without me. Run!”I put my hands in my pockets without a word, and then started, for a voice said—“You think Ching lun away allee time?”“Ching!” I cried, grasping his arm.“Yes; no good. Can’t findee big hole to hide. Ching tumblee down off rock, and hurt him.”“Much?” I said.“Yes, plentee plentee. Time to go now. Pilate all come along this way.”He passed his hand involuntarily straight round his neck edgewise, as if thinking about how a knife or sword would soon be applied.“You saw them?” I cried.“Yes,” he said sadly. “Allee come along. You lun away now with Ching?”“I can’t leave Tom Jecks,” I said. “Off with you, and try and save yourself. Never mind us.”Ching looked at the injured sailor.“You no get up, lun?” he said.“Can’t do it, mate,” groaned the poor fellow. “I want Mr Herrick to make a dash for his life.”“Yes, velly good. You makee dashee you life, Mr Hellick.”“No, I stay here. Run for it, Ching; and if you escape and see the captain or Mr Reardon again, tell him we all did our duty, and how Mr Brooke was drowned.”“Yes, Ching tellee Mr Leardon evelyting.”“Then lose no time; go.”“No; Ching velly tire, velly hot; wantee bleakfast, flesh tea, nicee new blead. Too hot to lun.”“But I want you to save yourself,” I said excitedly.“Yes; allee save evelybody, alleegether. Ching won’t go leave Mr Hellick.”“Ching!” I cried.“Hush! No makee low. Lie down likee lit’ pigee in sand. Pilate come along.”His ears were sharper than mine; for, as I dropped down at full length in the sand upon my chest, I saw him drag a good-sized stone in front of his face to screen it, while I, in imitation, rapidly scooped up some of the sand and spread it before me, so as to make a little mound of a few inches high, just as a couple of the junk’s crew came into sight about a hundred and fifty yards on our left, and as close down to the sea as the billows would allow. Then a few more appeared; and at last the whole party, walking almost in single file, and looking sharply from left to right as they came.There was a space of about sixty yards from the face of the cliff to the edge of the water, and the shore, after about twenty yards of perfect hard level, rapidly rose, the interval being a rugged wilderness of rock half buried in the driven sand.It was up nearly at the highest part of this chaos of rocks, where we had been seeking along the cliff face for a cavern, that we three lay, many feet above the level strip by the sea; and there were plenty of rocks protruding from the sand big enough to hide us; but it could only be from a few of the men at a time. To the others I felt that we must be so exposed that some one or other must of necessity see us if he looked our way.There was no need to whisper, “Be silent,” for we lay there perfectly motionless, hardly daring to breathe, but forced, fascinated, as it were, into watching the long procession of our enemies, walking along, chattering loudly, and every now and then stooping to pick up something which had been driven up by the sea.At times I saw them gazing right in our direction, and then up, over us, at the cliff with its patches of grey-green vegetation; but fully half of them passed by without making a sign of being aware of our presence, and hope began to spring up of the possibility of their all going by without noticing us.The next moment it seemed impossible, and my heart sank as one active fellow stepped toward us, apparently coming straight to where we lay, and appearing to be watching me all the time.And now more strongly than ever came the feeling that I must leap up and run for my life, though I knew that if I did the mob of Chinamen would give chase, like the pack of savage hounds that they were, and never give up till they had run me down; and then—I felt sick with the heat of the sun, and the horror of my position. There, say it was all from the latter cause; and the rocks, sea, pirates, all swam before me in a giddy circle, with only one clear object standing out distinct upon the sands—imagination, of course, but so real and plain before my dilated eyes, that I shuddered at its reality—it was myself, lying in the baking sunshine, after the pirates had overtaken me and passed on!It was very curious in its reality, and so clear before me that I could hardly believe it true, when the man who was coming toward us suddenly stooped, picked up something, and then turned and went back to his position in the line.For I had not calculated in my excitement upon the deceptive nature of the ground upon which we lay, with its large masses of rock and scattered fragments of endless shapes, some partly screening, some blending with our clothes as we lay motionless; and above all, upon the fact that our presence there was not expected. Otherwise there might have been quite another tale to tell.Even when I knew that they were passing on, I hardly dared to draw my breath, and lay still now, with my head pressed down sidewise in the sand; till at last I could keep from breathing no longer, and the dry sand flew at one great puff.I lay trembling the next moment, fearing that the sound would bring the bloodthirsty wretches back, hot and eager to hack to pieces the foreign devil who had escaped from their clutches the day before; but the sound of their voices grew more and more faint, till the last murmur died away, and I raised my head slowly, an inch at a time, till I could gaze along the strand.There was nothing visible but the scattered rocks, sun-bleached sand, and the dark, smooth surface over which the foaming water raced back each time a glistening billow curved over and broke. And in proof that the enemy were some distance away, I could see the pale-feathered, white-breasted gulls passing here and there in search of food, while able at any moment to spread their wings and escape.

It was all clear enough: the great junk which had so deceived Mr Brooke and Ching had been cast ashore and shattered, these men having escaped and been exploring the island, or perhaps they were only coming down now from the spot where they had taken refuge after being cast ashore.

“Why, Ching,” I whispered, “perhaps there are more of them about!”

“P’laps,” he replied.

We dared not move, but remained there watching; and it now became pretty evident that the men had come down to examine the wreck, for they began to hurry about, chattering away as they searched in all directions amongst the fragments, one or another setting up a shout from time to time, which brought others to him. Then we saw them drag out now a chest from the sand in which it was bedded, now a cask; and soon after there was a burst of excitement over something we could not make out; but it was evidently a satisfactory find, for they bore it up from the sea to the soft, warm, dry sand, and all sat down round about it.

“Find something velly good to eat,” whispered Ching. “Now allee velly busy; come along, hide.”

It was very good advice; and we followed him down from the ridge, and in and out at the foot of the cliff, seeking for some place of concealment; for I had not a doubt about our fate if we were seen. In fact, I did not breathe freely until the great ridge and several masses of rock were between us; and only then, a good half-mile away in the direction from which we had come, did we venture to speak above our breath.

“Velly big pity,” said Ching, whose face was all in wrinkles. “Velly muchee wish back at fancee shop.”

“Let’s find a place before we talk about that,” I said.

“Yes; soon findee place.”

“Here, what is it, Jecks?” I cried, catching our companion’s arm; for he suddenly gave a lurch as we struggled through the loose sand, and nearly fell.

“Bit done up, sir,” he said, with a piteous smile. “Wound in my leg makes me feel sick, and the sun’s hot. Is there a drop o’ water to be got at anywhere?”

I looked round at the glowing sand and rocks with a feeling of horrible despair coming over me. Yes, there was water—hundreds and thousands of miles of water, blue, glistening, and beautiful in the calm morning, but none that we could give a parched and fainting man to drink.

“Try and creep along a little farther,” I said. “Let’s get you in hiding, and then Ching and I will search for some and bring it—”

As I spoke I remembered that I had nothing that would hold water, and I felt constrained to add—

“Or fetch you to it.”

“All right, sir,” said the man, with a weary smile; “allus obey your officers.”

Ching went to his other side, and supported him some fifty yards farther, our way now being through quite a chaos of rocks, which had been loosened in bygone times from the cliff above. Then, so suddenly that we were not prepared, the poor fellow dropped with his full weight upon our arms, and we had to lower him down upon a heap of drifted sand.

“No go, sir,” he said softly; “I’m a done-er.”

“No, no; rest a bit, and we’ll find a cool place somewhere. I daresay we shall see a cave along here.”

“Can’t do it, sir,” he said feebly; “I’ve kep’ on as long as I could. It’s all up. Never mind me. If those beggars see you, they’ll have no mercy on you, so go on and try and get away.”

“Yes; velly muchee makee haste. Pilate come soon.”

“Yes, sir; he’s quite right, sir. You two cut and run.”

“And let them come and murder you, while we go?” I said.

“Well, yes, sir,” said the poor fellow faintly; “there’s no good in having three killed when one would do.”

“Look about, Ching,” I said sharply. “Is there any place where we can hide?”

“No,” he replied disconsolately. “Only place for lit’ dog; no fo’ man.”

“You can’t do it, sir,” said our poor companion. “Good-bye, sir, and God bless you; you’ve done all a orficer can.”

“Oh, have I? I should look well when Mr Reardon or the captain says, ‘What have you done with your men?’”

“Don’t! stop a-talking, sir,” he cried, clinging to my hand. “You know what these beggars are, and you’ll have ’em on to you, sir.”

“Yes; and we shall have them on to you if we don’t find a place soon. Here, Ching, don’t run away and leave us;” for I could see the interpreter climbing up a gap in the cliff.

“He’s quite right, sir; you go after him. I tell you it’s all over and done with me. If you got me along a bit farther, I should only go off all the same. It’s all up. Now, pray go, sir. It’s no use to stay.”

“Hold your tongue!” I cried angrily; for with the feeling on me strong that the pirates might be down on us directly, and the only thing to do was to set off and run for my life, the poor fellow’s imploring words were like a horrible temptation that I was too weak to resist.

“I must speak, sir,” he whispered, with his eyes starting, and his lips black and cracked by the heat and feverish thirst caused by his wound. “There, you see, Mr Ching’s gone, and your only chance is to follow him.”

I looked up, and just caught sight of one of the Chinaman’s legs as he disappeared over the edge of the cliff to which, high up, he had crawled. And once more the desire to escape came upon me, but with increased strength, that made me so angry at my weakness that I turned upon the poor fellow almost threateningly.

“Will you hold your tongue?” I whispered hoarsely.

“Will you go, sir?” he pleaded. “I tell yer it’s all up with me, and the Teapots can’t hurt me worse than what I’ve got now. Arn’t got your dirk, have you?”

“No; why?”

“’Cause it would ha’ been an act o’ kindness to put me out of my misery, and save me from being cut to pieces by them there wretches. Now, sir, good-bye, and God bless you, once more! Tell the skipper I did my duty to the last.”

I broke down as I sank on my knees by the poor fellow; and I didn’t know my voice—perhaps it was being husky from the heat-as I said to him, very chokily—

“And if you get away, tell the captain I did my duty to the last.”

“Yes, sir; but do go now.”

I jumped up again, ashamed of the blinding tears that came for a few moments into my eyes.

“Look here,” I said; “if you weren’t so weak, I’d kick you, old a man as you are. Likely thing for a British officer to sneak off and leave one of his men like this!”

“But the beggars are coming, I’m sure, sir.”

“Very well,” I said gloomily, “let them come. It’s all very well for a full-moon-faced Chinaman to go off and take care of himself, but it isn’t English, Tom Jecks, and that you know.”

The poor fellow hoisted himself a little round, so that he could hide his face on his uninjured arm, and as I saw his shoulders heave I felt weaker than ever; but I mastered it this time, and knelt there with a whole flood of recollections of home, school, and my ambitions running through my brain. I thought of my training, of my delight at the news of my being appointed to theTeaser, of my excitement over my uniform; and that now it was all over, and that in all probability only the sea-birds would know of what became of me after the Chinamen had done.

Then I thought of Ching’s cowardice in leaving me alone with the poor wounded fellow like this.

“I knew he wasn’t a fighting man,” I said sadly; “but I couldn’t have believed that he was such a cur.”

At that moment there was a quick scrambling sound, which made me start to my feet, and Tom Jecks started up on his elbow.

“Here they come, sir,” he gasped. “Now, sir,” he whispered wildly, “do, pray, cut and run.”

“With you,” I said resolutely.

He made an effort to rise, but fell back with a groan.

“Can’t do it, sir. Without me. Run!”

I put my hands in my pockets without a word, and then started, for a voice said—

“You think Ching lun away allee time?”

“Ching!” I cried, grasping his arm.

“Yes; no good. Can’t findee big hole to hide. Ching tumblee down off rock, and hurt him.”

“Much?” I said.

“Yes, plentee plentee. Time to go now. Pilate all come along this way.”

He passed his hand involuntarily straight round his neck edgewise, as if thinking about how a knife or sword would soon be applied.

“You saw them?” I cried.

“Yes,” he said sadly. “Allee come along. You lun away now with Ching?”

“I can’t leave Tom Jecks,” I said. “Off with you, and try and save yourself. Never mind us.”

Ching looked at the injured sailor.

“You no get up, lun?” he said.

“Can’t do it, mate,” groaned the poor fellow. “I want Mr Herrick to make a dash for his life.”

“Yes, velly good. You makee dashee you life, Mr Hellick.”

“No, I stay here. Run for it, Ching; and if you escape and see the captain or Mr Reardon again, tell him we all did our duty, and how Mr Brooke was drowned.”

“Yes, Ching tellee Mr Leardon evelyting.”

“Then lose no time; go.”

“No; Ching velly tire, velly hot; wantee bleakfast, flesh tea, nicee new blead. Too hot to lun.”

“But I want you to save yourself,” I said excitedly.

“Yes; allee save evelybody, alleegether. Ching won’t go leave Mr Hellick.”

“Ching!” I cried.

“Hush! No makee low. Lie down likee lit’ pigee in sand. Pilate come along.”

His ears were sharper than mine; for, as I dropped down at full length in the sand upon my chest, I saw him drag a good-sized stone in front of his face to screen it, while I, in imitation, rapidly scooped up some of the sand and spread it before me, so as to make a little mound of a few inches high, just as a couple of the junk’s crew came into sight about a hundred and fifty yards on our left, and as close down to the sea as the billows would allow. Then a few more appeared; and at last the whole party, walking almost in single file, and looking sharply from left to right as they came.

There was a space of about sixty yards from the face of the cliff to the edge of the water, and the shore, after about twenty yards of perfect hard level, rapidly rose, the interval being a rugged wilderness of rock half buried in the driven sand.

It was up nearly at the highest part of this chaos of rocks, where we had been seeking along the cliff face for a cavern, that we three lay, many feet above the level strip by the sea; and there were plenty of rocks protruding from the sand big enough to hide us; but it could only be from a few of the men at a time. To the others I felt that we must be so exposed that some one or other must of necessity see us if he looked our way.

There was no need to whisper, “Be silent,” for we lay there perfectly motionless, hardly daring to breathe, but forced, fascinated, as it were, into watching the long procession of our enemies, walking along, chattering loudly, and every now and then stooping to pick up something which had been driven up by the sea.

At times I saw them gazing right in our direction, and then up, over us, at the cliff with its patches of grey-green vegetation; but fully half of them passed by without making a sign of being aware of our presence, and hope began to spring up of the possibility of their all going by without noticing us.

The next moment it seemed impossible, and my heart sank as one active fellow stepped toward us, apparently coming straight to where we lay, and appearing to be watching me all the time.

And now more strongly than ever came the feeling that I must leap up and run for my life, though I knew that if I did the mob of Chinamen would give chase, like the pack of savage hounds that they were, and never give up till they had run me down; and then—

I felt sick with the heat of the sun, and the horror of my position. There, say it was all from the latter cause; and the rocks, sea, pirates, all swam before me in a giddy circle, with only one clear object standing out distinct upon the sands—imagination, of course, but so real and plain before my dilated eyes, that I shuddered at its reality—it was myself, lying in the baking sunshine, after the pirates had overtaken me and passed on!

It was very curious in its reality, and so clear before me that I could hardly believe it true, when the man who was coming toward us suddenly stooped, picked up something, and then turned and went back to his position in the line.

For I had not calculated in my excitement upon the deceptive nature of the ground upon which we lay, with its large masses of rock and scattered fragments of endless shapes, some partly screening, some blending with our clothes as we lay motionless; and above all, upon the fact that our presence there was not expected. Otherwise there might have been quite another tale to tell.

Even when I knew that they were passing on, I hardly dared to draw my breath, and lay still now, with my head pressed down sidewise in the sand; till at last I could keep from breathing no longer, and the dry sand flew at one great puff.

I lay trembling the next moment, fearing that the sound would bring the bloodthirsty wretches back, hot and eager to hack to pieces the foreign devil who had escaped from their clutches the day before; but the sound of their voices grew more and more faint, till the last murmur died away, and I raised my head slowly, an inch at a time, till I could gaze along the strand.

There was nothing visible but the scattered rocks, sun-bleached sand, and the dark, smooth surface over which the foaming water raced back each time a glistening billow curved over and broke. And in proof that the enemy were some distance away, I could see the pale-feathered, white-breasted gulls passing here and there in search of food, while able at any moment to spread their wings and escape.

Chapter Forty Three.Our Refuge.“Oh deah me!” said Ching in his most squeaky tones, “I velly hungly. You like nicee bleakfast, Mis’ Hellick?”“Don’t speak to me as if I were a baby, Ching,” I cried angrily.“No; speak like to offlicer, Mr Hellick. You likee bleakfast—something good eat?”“I hadn’t thought of it before, Ching,” I said, feeling rather ashamed of my angry tone; “but I am faint, and I suppose that is through being hungry.”“Yes; Ching go down among locks and sand, see if he find something eat.”“No, no,” I cried excitedly; “it would be madness.”“Eh? you tinkee Ching mad?” he said, with a smile.“Oh no; but you would meet some of the pirates.”“No; allee gone ’long shore. Not come back long time.”“But it is too risky. Perhaps some of the wretches are waiting.”“No; allee velly wicked—velly bad men. Feel ’flaid stop all alone. ’Flaid see men again headee chop off. Pilate allee keep together. No come long time; Ching go find something good eat.”“But if they come on the cliffs and look back, they might see you.”“Yes; might see Ching flom velly long way topside lock chop. Then think—”“Think, yes, of course.”“Not allee same you think. See Ching? Yes; see John Chinaman in blue flock allee torn, long tow-chang; that’s all.”I did not grasp his meaning for a moment.“Oh, I see,” I cried at last; “you mean that if they did see you, they would think it was one of their own crew?”“Yes; think one of own clew. But Ching not pilate.”“Of course. Then there would be no risk. You shall go, but we must find some place where we can hide.”“Mis’ Hellick help soon makee velly nicee place.”“Wait a minute,” I said. “Couldn’t we climb up on the cliff like you did?”“Yes, Mr Hellick climb, but no cally jolly sailor boy, Tom Jeck, allee way.”“No; we must make a place here if we cannot find one.”He walked up to the face of the cliff, but there was no spot at all likely to answer the purpose till he had gone about fifty yards, when he turned and signalled to me.I crept close up to the cliff, and then stooped down, after a timid look in the direction taken by the pirates, and found Ching standing by a piece of the rock which had split away from above, fallen clear, and then its top had leaned back against the rock face, leaving a narrow rift between its base and the cliff, through which we could see the light dimly, some twelve or fourteen yards away, but it was only a faint gleam showing that the far end was nearly closed.“Velly nice beautiful place; ought to come here last night.”“Yes, capital. We can hide here; and once inside, if we had arms, we could keep the wretches at a distance.”“Don’tee want fight now,” said Ching, quietly. “No swold, no shoot gun, no jolly sailor boy. Wantee eat and dlink.”“Yes; let’s get poor Jecks here at once.”“You go fetch him; tly to walkee now: Ching go fetch eat, dlink.”He hurried off toward the ridge, while I went back to my wounded man, who seemed to be lying asleep, but he opened his eyes as I approached.“We’ve found a place,” I said. “Do you think you can limp a little way?”He tried to rise, and fell back with a moan, but upon my placing my arm under his, he made a fresh effort, and stood upright, taking step for step with mine, till I had him right up to the narrow opening of our shelter, into which he slowly crawled, and then spoke for the first time, but in a hoarse voice I did not know—“Water.”“I’ll try,” I said; “don’t stir from there till I come back.”Creeping along close under the cliff, I soon reached the ridge, and was about to mount, but dropped down and hid, for I saw something move in the direction taken by the pirates.A minute’s investigation, however, showed it to be some bird on the strand, and I began to climb, reached the top, took a careful observation in both directions, and then up at the cliff, and,—lastly, looked out for Ching.I soon espied him running out after a retiring billow, then running in again, and continuing this several times as if he were a boy at play. Finally, however, I saw him go splashing in after a wave, and then come hurrying back dragging something, which he drew right ashore.There he stopped, panting, and looking back, caught sight of me, and signalled to me to come.I hurried down, reached him amongst the piles of broken timber and rubbish, and found that he had secured a wooden box, one end of which had been battered upon the rocks, laying bare the bright glistening tin with which it was lined; and I realised directly that he had found what for us was a treasure, if we could tear open the tin, for the case bore the brand of a well-known firm of English biscuit-makers, and doubtless it was part of the loot taken from some unfortunate British merchantman.“You helpee me cally?” he said.For answer I took hold of one end of the case, and we bore it right up, through the thick sand, close under the cliff, where we placed it behind a big stone.“You gottee big stlong knife?” cried Ching.I took out a big-bladed knife, opened it, and found no difficulty in thrusting it through the soft tin and cutting a long gash. Then I cut another, parallel, and joined two of the ends, making a lid, which, upon being raised, showed that the biscuits were perfectly unharmed by the salt water.“Fillee allee pockets,” cried Ching; and I proceeded to do so, while twice as many as I could stow away disappeared under his garments.“Now,” I said, “we must find water and get back.”“Waitee minute; p’laps pilate come back; no have bliskit.”He dropped down upon his knees, and began tearing away the sand from behind the stone, after which he dragged the case into the hole, and tossed the sand over it at a tremendous rate, ending by completely covering it and looking up at me with a smile of satisfaction.“Now for water,” I said eagerly.“Yes, Ching find water;” and we tramped back, the loose dry sand falling in and obliterating our footprints.Ching led the way to a pile of tangled wreck-wood, and took out a jar covered with bamboo basket-work, and having a cross handle—a vessel that would probably hold about half a pailful.“Ching find—float flom junk,” he said; and then, with a knowing smile, he led the way to where the ridge joined the cliff; and, unable to contain myself when, he stopped and pointed down triumphantly, I fell upon my knees, and placed my lips to a tiny pool of clear cool water, which came down from a rift about forty feet above my head in the limestone rock, and, as I drank the most delicious draught I ever had in my life, the water from above splashed down coolly and pleasantly upon the back of my head.“Ching hear can gotlickle, tlickle,” he said, stooping in turn to get a deep draught before filling the vessel, and then leading the way back over the ridge, and out of the hot sunshine into the place where our poor companion lay upon his back, muttering hurriedly words of which we could not catch the import.This was a fresh difficulty, for he could not be roused into sitting up to drink; and at last, in despair, I scooped up some water in my hand, and let it trickle upon his half-parted lips.The effect was instantaneous; they moved eagerly, and, ceasing his muttering, he swallowed more and more of the water, till he must have drunk nearly a pint, and now sank into a more easy position fast asleep, and breathing easily.“Ha!” I exclaimed. But I said no more, Ching’s hand was placed over my lips, and he held me back, staring hard all the time towards the tall narrow outlet of our shelter.For the moment I thought that this was some cowardly attack—one is so prone to think evil of people rather than good; but he stooped down, placed his lips to my ear, and whispered the one word—“Pilate.”Then a loud burst of talking came upon us, sounding as it doubled by striking and echoing from the rocks. My blood ran cold once more, for I thought that my exclamation had been heard, and that the enemy was talking about and watching the opening of our shelter.Then the noise grew louder, and some dispute seemed to be on the way, while, what was worse, the sounds did not pass on, showing that the crew of the junk, for I felt that it must be they, had returned and stopped just in front of where we crouched.Where we were was dark enough to keep any one from seeing us if he looked in from the bright sunshine; but I knew that, sooner or later, if the men stayed where they were, some one was sure to come prying about, and would see the place. How long, then, would it be ere we were discovered, and had to meet our terrible fate after all?“You thinkee get out other way?” said Ching at last, with his lips to my ear.“I think not,” I whispered back.“Mustn’t look out this way,” he whispered again. “You go light to end and look see if pilate going stop.”I was so eager to get an observation of the enemy, that I hurriedly crept along the narrow passage. I say hurriedly, but my progress was very slow, for I had to worm my way over fallen stones, some of which were loose, and I was in constant dread of making a sound which might betray us.But I got to the end in safety, and had to mount up over a large narrow wedge-like piece which filled up the end; the opening, dim and partly stopped with some kind of growth outside, being quite ten feet from the sandy bottom.And all this while the murmur of voices from outside came indistinctly, till I was at the top of the wedge, when the talking grew suddenly louder.I hesitated for a few moments, and then, feeling sure that I was safe, I placed my face to the opening, parted the tough plant a little, and then a little more, so as not to attract attention; and at last, with a bright yellow daisy-like growth all about my face, I peered out, to see that the enemy had quietly settled down there to smoke, not thirty yards from our hiding-place, while some were settling themselves to sleep, and again others to eat biscuits similar to those we had found.They evidently meant to stay, and if our wounded companion began his delirious mutterings again, I knew that, although a fellow-countryman might be spared, my career was at an end.I crept down cautiously, and told Ching all I had seen; whereupon he nodded his head sagely, and placed his lips to my ear.“Plenty big stone,” he whispered. “Plenty sand; velly quiet; ’top up hole.”I shrank from making any movement, but, softly and silently, Ching crept nearly to the opening by which we had entered, and began moving the fragments embedded in sand, which formed the flooring of our narrow refuge, turning over peat shaley pieces, and laying them naturally between us and the light, and, after planting each heavy piece, scooping up the dry sand with both hands, and pouring it over the stone. Then another piece and another followed, awkward bits so heavy that he could hardly lift them; and, gaining courage, I let to as well, pulling blocks from out of the sand where I knelt, and passing them to him.He nodded his satisfaction, and we both worked on slowly and silently, building up till the erection became a breast-work, rapidly growing narrower as it rose higher; the sand poured in, filling up the interstices and trickling down on the other side, thus giving our rugged wall the appearance of being a natural heap, over which the dried sand had been swept in by the storm.I was in agony as we worked on, expecting moment by moment to hear a stone fall, or a loud clap of one against another; but Ching worked in perfect silence, while the busy chattering of the men without kept on, and then by slow degrees grew more smothered as our wall arose; while as it progressed our shelter grew more gloomy.There was plenty of material to have made a wall ten times the size, whereas, roughly speaking, ours was only about four feet in length from the fallen rock to the base of the cliff, and sloped inward till, at breast height, it was not more than two feet, and from there rapidly diminished till Ching ceased, and breathing hard, and wet with perspiration, he whispered to me—“No leach no higher; can’tee find now.”It was so dark that we could only just see each other’s faces, but in a short time we became so accustomed to the gloom, that we could watch the changes in Tom Jecks’ countenance as he lay sleeping, by the faint rays which stole in over the top of our cavern, and through the tuft of herbage which grew high up at the other end. But the heat was terrible in so confined a space, and, exhausted as I was with lifting stones and scooping up sand, there were moments when everything appeared dreamy and strange, and I suppose I must have been a little delirious.I was sitting panting with the heat, resting my head against the rock, listening to the breathing of Tom Jecks, and wondering why it was that something hot and black and intangible should be always coming down and pressing on my brain, when I started into wakefulness, or rather out of my stupor, for Ching touched me, and I found that he had crept past Tom Jecks to where I had made my seat, and had his lips close to my ear.“Hoolay!” he whispered. “Flee cheahs! Pilate all go away! Go up see.”

“Oh deah me!” said Ching in his most squeaky tones, “I velly hungly. You like nicee bleakfast, Mis’ Hellick?”

“Don’t speak to me as if I were a baby, Ching,” I cried angrily.

“No; speak like to offlicer, Mr Hellick. You likee bleakfast—something good eat?”

“I hadn’t thought of it before, Ching,” I said, feeling rather ashamed of my angry tone; “but I am faint, and I suppose that is through being hungry.”

“Yes; Ching go down among locks and sand, see if he find something eat.”

“No, no,” I cried excitedly; “it would be madness.”

“Eh? you tinkee Ching mad?” he said, with a smile.

“Oh no; but you would meet some of the pirates.”

“No; allee gone ’long shore. Not come back long time.”

“But it is too risky. Perhaps some of the wretches are waiting.”

“No; allee velly wicked—velly bad men. Feel ’flaid stop all alone. ’Flaid see men again headee chop off. Pilate allee keep together. No come long time; Ching go find something good eat.”

“But if they come on the cliffs and look back, they might see you.”

“Yes; might see Ching flom velly long way topside lock chop. Then think—”

“Think, yes, of course.”

“Not allee same you think. See Ching? Yes; see John Chinaman in blue flock allee torn, long tow-chang; that’s all.”

I did not grasp his meaning for a moment.

“Oh, I see,” I cried at last; “you mean that if they did see you, they would think it was one of their own crew?”

“Yes; think one of own clew. But Ching not pilate.”

“Of course. Then there would be no risk. You shall go, but we must find some place where we can hide.”

“Mis’ Hellick help soon makee velly nicee place.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Couldn’t we climb up on the cliff like you did?”

“Yes, Mr Hellick climb, but no cally jolly sailor boy, Tom Jeck, allee way.”

“No; we must make a place here if we cannot find one.”

He walked up to the face of the cliff, but there was no spot at all likely to answer the purpose till he had gone about fifty yards, when he turned and signalled to me.

I crept close up to the cliff, and then stooped down, after a timid look in the direction taken by the pirates, and found Ching standing by a piece of the rock which had split away from above, fallen clear, and then its top had leaned back against the rock face, leaving a narrow rift between its base and the cliff, through which we could see the light dimly, some twelve or fourteen yards away, but it was only a faint gleam showing that the far end was nearly closed.

“Velly nice beautiful place; ought to come here last night.”

“Yes, capital. We can hide here; and once inside, if we had arms, we could keep the wretches at a distance.”

“Don’tee want fight now,” said Ching, quietly. “No swold, no shoot gun, no jolly sailor boy. Wantee eat and dlink.”

“Yes; let’s get poor Jecks here at once.”

“You go fetch him; tly to walkee now: Ching go fetch eat, dlink.”

He hurried off toward the ridge, while I went back to my wounded man, who seemed to be lying asleep, but he opened his eyes as I approached.

“We’ve found a place,” I said. “Do you think you can limp a little way?”

He tried to rise, and fell back with a moan, but upon my placing my arm under his, he made a fresh effort, and stood upright, taking step for step with mine, till I had him right up to the narrow opening of our shelter, into which he slowly crawled, and then spoke for the first time, but in a hoarse voice I did not know—

“Water.”

“I’ll try,” I said; “don’t stir from there till I come back.”

Creeping along close under the cliff, I soon reached the ridge, and was about to mount, but dropped down and hid, for I saw something move in the direction taken by the pirates.

A minute’s investigation, however, showed it to be some bird on the strand, and I began to climb, reached the top, took a careful observation in both directions, and then up at the cliff, and,—lastly, looked out for Ching.

I soon espied him running out after a retiring billow, then running in again, and continuing this several times as if he were a boy at play. Finally, however, I saw him go splashing in after a wave, and then come hurrying back dragging something, which he drew right ashore.

There he stopped, panting, and looking back, caught sight of me, and signalled to me to come.

I hurried down, reached him amongst the piles of broken timber and rubbish, and found that he had secured a wooden box, one end of which had been battered upon the rocks, laying bare the bright glistening tin with which it was lined; and I realised directly that he had found what for us was a treasure, if we could tear open the tin, for the case bore the brand of a well-known firm of English biscuit-makers, and doubtless it was part of the loot taken from some unfortunate British merchantman.

“You helpee me cally?” he said.

For answer I took hold of one end of the case, and we bore it right up, through the thick sand, close under the cliff, where we placed it behind a big stone.

“You gottee big stlong knife?” cried Ching.

I took out a big-bladed knife, opened it, and found no difficulty in thrusting it through the soft tin and cutting a long gash. Then I cut another, parallel, and joined two of the ends, making a lid, which, upon being raised, showed that the biscuits were perfectly unharmed by the salt water.

“Fillee allee pockets,” cried Ching; and I proceeded to do so, while twice as many as I could stow away disappeared under his garments.

“Now,” I said, “we must find water and get back.”

“Waitee minute; p’laps pilate come back; no have bliskit.”

He dropped down upon his knees, and began tearing away the sand from behind the stone, after which he dragged the case into the hole, and tossed the sand over it at a tremendous rate, ending by completely covering it and looking up at me with a smile of satisfaction.

“Now for water,” I said eagerly.

“Yes, Ching find water;” and we tramped back, the loose dry sand falling in and obliterating our footprints.

Ching led the way to a pile of tangled wreck-wood, and took out a jar covered with bamboo basket-work, and having a cross handle—a vessel that would probably hold about half a pailful.

“Ching find—float flom junk,” he said; and then, with a knowing smile, he led the way to where the ridge joined the cliff; and, unable to contain myself when, he stopped and pointed down triumphantly, I fell upon my knees, and placed my lips to a tiny pool of clear cool water, which came down from a rift about forty feet above my head in the limestone rock, and, as I drank the most delicious draught I ever had in my life, the water from above splashed down coolly and pleasantly upon the back of my head.

“Ching hear can gotlickle, tlickle,” he said, stooping in turn to get a deep draught before filling the vessel, and then leading the way back over the ridge, and out of the hot sunshine into the place where our poor companion lay upon his back, muttering hurriedly words of which we could not catch the import.

This was a fresh difficulty, for he could not be roused into sitting up to drink; and at last, in despair, I scooped up some water in my hand, and let it trickle upon his half-parted lips.

The effect was instantaneous; they moved eagerly, and, ceasing his muttering, he swallowed more and more of the water, till he must have drunk nearly a pint, and now sank into a more easy position fast asleep, and breathing easily.

“Ha!” I exclaimed. But I said no more, Ching’s hand was placed over my lips, and he held me back, staring hard all the time towards the tall narrow outlet of our shelter.

For the moment I thought that this was some cowardly attack—one is so prone to think evil of people rather than good; but he stooped down, placed his lips to my ear, and whispered the one word—

“Pilate.”

Then a loud burst of talking came upon us, sounding as it doubled by striking and echoing from the rocks. My blood ran cold once more, for I thought that my exclamation had been heard, and that the enemy was talking about and watching the opening of our shelter.

Then the noise grew louder, and some dispute seemed to be on the way, while, what was worse, the sounds did not pass on, showing that the crew of the junk, for I felt that it must be they, had returned and stopped just in front of where we crouched.

Where we were was dark enough to keep any one from seeing us if he looked in from the bright sunshine; but I knew that, sooner or later, if the men stayed where they were, some one was sure to come prying about, and would see the place. How long, then, would it be ere we were discovered, and had to meet our terrible fate after all?

“You thinkee get out other way?” said Ching at last, with his lips to my ear.

“I think not,” I whispered back.

“Mustn’t look out this way,” he whispered again. “You go light to end and look see if pilate going stop.”

I was so eager to get an observation of the enemy, that I hurriedly crept along the narrow passage. I say hurriedly, but my progress was very slow, for I had to worm my way over fallen stones, some of which were loose, and I was in constant dread of making a sound which might betray us.

But I got to the end in safety, and had to mount up over a large narrow wedge-like piece which filled up the end; the opening, dim and partly stopped with some kind of growth outside, being quite ten feet from the sandy bottom.

And all this while the murmur of voices from outside came indistinctly, till I was at the top of the wedge, when the talking grew suddenly louder.

I hesitated for a few moments, and then, feeling sure that I was safe, I placed my face to the opening, parted the tough plant a little, and then a little more, so as not to attract attention; and at last, with a bright yellow daisy-like growth all about my face, I peered out, to see that the enemy had quietly settled down there to smoke, not thirty yards from our hiding-place, while some were settling themselves to sleep, and again others to eat biscuits similar to those we had found.

They evidently meant to stay, and if our wounded companion began his delirious mutterings again, I knew that, although a fellow-countryman might be spared, my career was at an end.

I crept down cautiously, and told Ching all I had seen; whereupon he nodded his head sagely, and placed his lips to my ear.

“Plenty big stone,” he whispered. “Plenty sand; velly quiet; ’top up hole.”

I shrank from making any movement, but, softly and silently, Ching crept nearly to the opening by which we had entered, and began moving the fragments embedded in sand, which formed the flooring of our narrow refuge, turning over peat shaley pieces, and laying them naturally between us and the light, and, after planting each heavy piece, scooping up the dry sand with both hands, and pouring it over the stone. Then another piece and another followed, awkward bits so heavy that he could hardly lift them; and, gaining courage, I let to as well, pulling blocks from out of the sand where I knelt, and passing them to him.

He nodded his satisfaction, and we both worked on slowly and silently, building up till the erection became a breast-work, rapidly growing narrower as it rose higher; the sand poured in, filling up the interstices and trickling down on the other side, thus giving our rugged wall the appearance of being a natural heap, over which the dried sand had been swept in by the storm.

I was in agony as we worked on, expecting moment by moment to hear a stone fall, or a loud clap of one against another; but Ching worked in perfect silence, while the busy chattering of the men without kept on, and then by slow degrees grew more smothered as our wall arose; while as it progressed our shelter grew more gloomy.

There was plenty of material to have made a wall ten times the size, whereas, roughly speaking, ours was only about four feet in length from the fallen rock to the base of the cliff, and sloped inward till, at breast height, it was not more than two feet, and from there rapidly diminished till Ching ceased, and breathing hard, and wet with perspiration, he whispered to me—

“No leach no higher; can’tee find now.”

It was so dark that we could only just see each other’s faces, but in a short time we became so accustomed to the gloom, that we could watch the changes in Tom Jecks’ countenance as he lay sleeping, by the faint rays which stole in over the top of our cavern, and through the tuft of herbage which grew high up at the other end. But the heat was terrible in so confined a space, and, exhausted as I was with lifting stones and scooping up sand, there were moments when everything appeared dreamy and strange, and I suppose I must have been a little delirious.

I was sitting panting with the heat, resting my head against the rock, listening to the breathing of Tom Jecks, and wondering why it was that something hot and black and intangible should be always coming down and pressing on my brain, when I started into wakefulness, or rather out of my stupor, for Ching touched me, and I found that he had crept past Tom Jecks to where I had made my seat, and had his lips close to my ear.

“Hoolay!” he whispered. “Flee cheahs! Pilate all go away! Go up see.”

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