Chapter Twelve.Repairing Damages.For some moments I could not believe it true, and I stood on the thwart and gazed carefully round, scanning every fragment of the wreck in the expectation of seeing some trick to deceive us—men lying flat with only their faces above the surface of the water, and holding on by sweep or bamboo with one hand. But in a very short time we were all certain that not a living being was near; of the dead there were several, as we found on rowing here and there. One, as he was turned over, seemed to be perfectly uninjured, but the others displayed ghastly wounds in face, neck, and breast, showing how horribly fierce had been the encounter in which they had been engaged.Satisfied at last that our task was at an end, the word was given, and the men began to row back to theTeaser, which still lay so transformed in appearance, as seen from a distance, that I was thinking that it was no wonder that the pirates had been deceived, when one of the men, forgetful of all the horrors through which we had passed, of his wounded comrade, and the dangerous prisoners under his feet, burst out into a merry fit of laughter.“Say, lads,” he cried, “we shall have a nice job to-morrow, to wash the old girl’s face.”The rest of the crew laughed in chorus, till the boatswain sternly bade them give way.“I doubt it,” he said in a low voice to me. “I should say that the captain will do a little more to make her less ship-shape, ready for the next lot.”“But you don’t think there are any more pirates, do you?”“More!” he said, looking at me in surprise. “Why, my lad, the coast swarms with them. We never hear a hundredth part of the attacks they make. It is not only European vessels they seize, but anything that comes in their way. It strikes me, Mr Herrick, that we have only just begun what may turn out a very successful cruise.”Ten minutes later we were nearing theTeaser, and I saw the reason why we could not see either of the other boats. They were swinging to the davits, and we were therefore the last.Just then Mr Reardon hailed us.“How many men hurt?” he shouted between his hands.“Only one, sir; Barr—coxswain.”“Badly?”“Oh no, sir,” shouted the sufferer. “Bit of a scrat on the back.”“How many prisoners?”“Four, sir.”Then we were alongside, the boat was run up, and, after our wounded man had been lifted out, I stepped on board, eager to know the result of the action on the part of the other boats, and to learn this I went below, and found Barkins alone.“Well,” I cried, “how many prisoners?”“Round dozen,” he cried.“Any one hurt?”“Round dozen.”“I know, twelve prisoners,” I said impatiently. “I asked you how many were hurt.”“And I told you, stupid,” he replied, “a round dozen.”“What! a man wounded for every prisoner?”“That’s it; and we shouldn’t have taken any, the beggars were game for fighting to the last, if Mr Brooke hadn’t given the word for them to be knocked on the head first with the thick end of the oars.”“To stun them?”“Yes; and our lads got so savage after seeing their mates stabbed when trying to save the brutes’ lives, that they hit as hard as they could. They killed two of ’em, or we should have had fourteen.”“How horrid!”“Horrid? Why, I enjoyed it,” said my messmate. “When I saw poor old Blacksmith—”“What!” I cried excitedly, “he isn’t hurt?”“Not hurt? why, one yellow-faced savage, when poor old Smithy held out his hand to pull him aboard, took hold of his wrist, and then reached up and stuck his knife right through the poor old chap’s arm, and left it there.”“Poor old Smithy!” I cried huskily, and a choking sensation rose in my throat. “I must go and see him.”“No, you mustn’t. I’ve just been, and they sent me away.”“But where is he?”“Doctor’s got him, and been mending him up. He has gone to sleep now.”“Was he very bad?”“Stick a stocking-needle through your arm, and then square it, cube it, add decimal nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, and then see how you feel.”“Poor old boy!” I said; “I am sorry.”“Well, so am I,” said Barkins sourly; “but I don’t keep on howling.”“Did they take the blackguard prisoner?”“Well, they did, and hauled him aboard, but he was no good, and they pitched him overboard again.”“Why?” I said wonderingly.“Why! because he was dead. Bob Saunders, that red-haired chap, was in the stern-sheets helping to catch the beggars with hitches, and as soon as he saw the big yellow-faced wretch stick his knife into poor old Blacksmith, he let drive at the brute with the boat-hook, twisted it in his frock, and held him under water. He didn’t mean to, but he was savage at what he had seen, for the lads like Smithy, and he held the beggar under water too long.”I shuddered, and thought of the man being bayoneted from our boat, and Mr Grey’s narrow escape.“Your fellows behaved better, I s’pose?” said Barkins.“Not a bit,” I said. “We’ve got a man stabbed just in the same way—” and I told him of our adventures.“They’re nice ones,” said Barkins sourly. “I don’t think our chaps will want to take many prisoners next time. But I say, what a crusher for them—all four junks, and not a man to go back and tell the tale.”“It’s glorious,” I cried, forgetting the horrors in our triumph.“For you,” said Barkins sourly.“Why for me? You and poor old Smith did your part. Don’t be so jolly envious.”“Envious? Come, I like that,” he cried. “If you felt as if something red-hot was being stuck in your leg you’d feel envious too. You’re the luckiest beggar that ever was, and never get hurt or anything.”“No more do you,” I said, laughing.“Oh, don’t I? What do you call that, then?” he cried, swinging his legs round, for he was sitting with one of them under the table.To my horror and astonishment, I saw that his leg was bandaged, and a red stain was showing through.“Why, Tanner, old chap,” I cried, catching his hand as my eyes were blurred; “I didn’t know you were hurt.”He looked quite pleased at my weakness, and the emotion I showed.“Oh, it ain’t much,” he said, smiling and holding on to my hand very tightly; “but it pringles and sticks a bit, I mean stingles—no, I don’t! My tongue’s getting all in a knot, it tingles and pricks a bit. I say, Gnat, old chap, you don’t think those chaps carry poisoned knives, do you?”“What, like the Malays? Oh no.”“I’m glad of that, because it made me feel a bit funky. I thought this stinging might mean the poison spreading.”“Oh no, don’t think that,” I cried; “and some one told me a Malay prince said it was all nonsense about the knives being poisoned.”“He did?”“Yes; he laughed, and said there was no need to poison them, they were quite sharp enough to kill a man without.”“That depends on where you put it in,” said Barkins grimly.“Yes,” I said; “but what did the doctor say?”“What about?”“Your leg.”“He hasn’t seen it yet.”“Why, Tanner,” I cried, “you haven’t had it properly bandaged.”“No; I felt so sick when I got on board, that I sneaked off here to lie down a bit. Besides, he had poor old Blacksmith to see to, and the other chaps.”“But didn’t he see the bandage when you went there?”“No; there was no bandage then. It’s only a bit of a scratch; I tied it up myself.”“How was it?”“I don’t hardly know. It was done in a scuffle somehow, when we had got the first prisoner in hand. He began laying about him with a knife, and gave it to two of our lads badly, and just caught me in the leg. It was so little that I didn’t like to make a fuss about it. Here, stop, don’t leave a chap. I want to talk to you.”“Back directly,” I cried, and I hurried on deck so quickly that I nearly blundered up against Mr Reardon.“Manners, midshipman!” he said sharply. “Stop, sir. Where are you going?”“Doctor, sir.”“What, are you hurt, my lad?” he cried anxiously.“No, sir, but poor Barkins is.”“Bless my soul, how unfortunate! Mr Smith down too! Where is he?”I told him, and he hurried with me to the doctor, who was putting on his coat, after finishing the last dressing of the injured men.“Here, doctor,” cried Mr Reardon sharply, “I’ve another man down—boy, I mean.”“What, young Smith? I’ve dressed his wound.”“No, no; Barkins has been touched too.”“Tut, tut!” cried the doctor, taking up a roll of bandage. “Are they bringing him?”“No, sir; he’s sitting by his berth. He tied up the wound himself.”Without another word the doctor started off, and we followed to where Barkins sat by the table with his back leaning against the side of his berth, and as soon as he caught sight of us he darted a reproachful look at me.“Oh, I say, Gnat,” he whispered, “this is too bad.” For the doctor had raised the leg, and, after taking off the handkerchief, roughly tied round just above the knee, made no scruple about slitting up the lad’s trousers with an ugly-looking knife, having a hooky kind of blade.“Bad?” said Mr Reardon anxiously.“Oh dear, no,” replied the doctor. “Nice clean cut. Sponge and water, youngster. Ha, yes,” he continued, as he applied the cool, soft sponge to the bleeding wound, “avoided all the vessels nicely.”“Gnat, old chap,” whispered Barkins, as I half supported him, “pinch me, there’s a good fellow.”“What for?” I whispered back.“Feel sicky and queer. Don’t let me faint before him.”“Here, hallo! Barkins, don’t turn like a great girl over a scratch—lower his head down, boy. That’s the way. He’ll soon come round. Ever see a wound dressed before?”“No, sir,” I said, repressing a shudder.“Don’t tease the boys, doctor,” said Mr Reardon sharply; “get the wound dressed.”“Well, I am dressing it, arn’t I?” said the doctor cheerily, and as if he enjoyed his task. “I must draw the edges together first.”He had taken what seemed to be a pocket-book from his breast and laid it open, and as I looked on, feeling sick myself, I saw him really put in three or four stitches, and then strap up and bandage the wound, just as Barkins came to and looked about wonderingly.“I didn’t faint, did I?” he said anxiously.The doctor laughed.“There, lie down in your berth,” he said. “Let me help you.”He assisted my messmate gently enough, and then said laughingly—“One can dress your wound without having three men to hold you. I say, Reardon, isn’t it waste of good surgical skill for me to be dressing the prisoners’ wounds, if you folk are going to hang them?”“I don’t know that we are going to hang them,” said the lieutenant quietly. “Perhaps we shall deliver them over to the Chinese authorities at Wanghai.”“What? My dear fellow, go and beg the captain to hang ’em at once out of their misery. It will be a kindness. Do you know what a Chinese prison is?”“No.”“Then I do. It would be a mercy to kill them.”“The Chinese authorities may wish to make an example of them so as to repress piracy.”“Let ’em make an example of some one else. Eh? Bandage too tight, my lad?”“No, sir,” said Barkins rather faintly. “The wound hurts a good deal.”“Good sign; ’tis its nature to,” said the doctor jocosely.“But—er—you don’t think, sir—”“‘That you may die after it,’ as we used to say over cut fingers at school. Bah! it’s a nice clean honest cut, made with a sharp knife. Heal up like anything with your healthy young flesh.”“But don’t these savage people sometimes poison their blades, sir?”“Don’t people who are wounded for the first time get all kinds of cock-and-bull notions into their heads, sir? There, go to sleep and forget all about it. Healthy smarting is what you feel. Why, you’ll be able to limp about the deck with a stick to-morrow.”“Do you mean it, sir?”“Of course.”Barkins gave him a grateful look, and Mr Reardon shook hands, nodded, and left us to ourselves for a moment, then the doctor thrust in his head again.“Here, lads,” he said, “Smith’s all right, I’ve made a capital job of his arm. Your turn next, Herrick. Good-bye.”This time we were left alone.
For some moments I could not believe it true, and I stood on the thwart and gazed carefully round, scanning every fragment of the wreck in the expectation of seeing some trick to deceive us—men lying flat with only their faces above the surface of the water, and holding on by sweep or bamboo with one hand. But in a very short time we were all certain that not a living being was near; of the dead there were several, as we found on rowing here and there. One, as he was turned over, seemed to be perfectly uninjured, but the others displayed ghastly wounds in face, neck, and breast, showing how horribly fierce had been the encounter in which they had been engaged.
Satisfied at last that our task was at an end, the word was given, and the men began to row back to theTeaser, which still lay so transformed in appearance, as seen from a distance, that I was thinking that it was no wonder that the pirates had been deceived, when one of the men, forgetful of all the horrors through which we had passed, of his wounded comrade, and the dangerous prisoners under his feet, burst out into a merry fit of laughter.
“Say, lads,” he cried, “we shall have a nice job to-morrow, to wash the old girl’s face.”
The rest of the crew laughed in chorus, till the boatswain sternly bade them give way.
“I doubt it,” he said in a low voice to me. “I should say that the captain will do a little more to make her less ship-shape, ready for the next lot.”
“But you don’t think there are any more pirates, do you?”
“More!” he said, looking at me in surprise. “Why, my lad, the coast swarms with them. We never hear a hundredth part of the attacks they make. It is not only European vessels they seize, but anything that comes in their way. It strikes me, Mr Herrick, that we have only just begun what may turn out a very successful cruise.”
Ten minutes later we were nearing theTeaser, and I saw the reason why we could not see either of the other boats. They were swinging to the davits, and we were therefore the last.
Just then Mr Reardon hailed us.
“How many men hurt?” he shouted between his hands.
“Only one, sir; Barr—coxswain.”
“Badly?”
“Oh no, sir,” shouted the sufferer. “Bit of a scrat on the back.”
“How many prisoners?”
“Four, sir.”
Then we were alongside, the boat was run up, and, after our wounded man had been lifted out, I stepped on board, eager to know the result of the action on the part of the other boats, and to learn this I went below, and found Barkins alone.
“Well,” I cried, “how many prisoners?”
“Round dozen,” he cried.
“Any one hurt?”
“Round dozen.”
“I know, twelve prisoners,” I said impatiently. “I asked you how many were hurt.”
“And I told you, stupid,” he replied, “a round dozen.”
“What! a man wounded for every prisoner?”
“That’s it; and we shouldn’t have taken any, the beggars were game for fighting to the last, if Mr Brooke hadn’t given the word for them to be knocked on the head first with the thick end of the oars.”
“To stun them?”
“Yes; and our lads got so savage after seeing their mates stabbed when trying to save the brutes’ lives, that they hit as hard as they could. They killed two of ’em, or we should have had fourteen.”
“How horrid!”
“Horrid? Why, I enjoyed it,” said my messmate. “When I saw poor old Blacksmith—”
“What!” I cried excitedly, “he isn’t hurt?”
“Not hurt? why, one yellow-faced savage, when poor old Smithy held out his hand to pull him aboard, took hold of his wrist, and then reached up and stuck his knife right through the poor old chap’s arm, and left it there.”
“Poor old Smithy!” I cried huskily, and a choking sensation rose in my throat. “I must go and see him.”
“No, you mustn’t. I’ve just been, and they sent me away.”
“But where is he?”
“Doctor’s got him, and been mending him up. He has gone to sleep now.”
“Was he very bad?”
“Stick a stocking-needle through your arm, and then square it, cube it, add decimal nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, and then see how you feel.”
“Poor old boy!” I said; “I am sorry.”
“Well, so am I,” said Barkins sourly; “but I don’t keep on howling.”
“Did they take the blackguard prisoner?”
“Well, they did, and hauled him aboard, but he was no good, and they pitched him overboard again.”
“Why?” I said wonderingly.
“Why! because he was dead. Bob Saunders, that red-haired chap, was in the stern-sheets helping to catch the beggars with hitches, and as soon as he saw the big yellow-faced wretch stick his knife into poor old Blacksmith, he let drive at the brute with the boat-hook, twisted it in his frock, and held him under water. He didn’t mean to, but he was savage at what he had seen, for the lads like Smithy, and he held the beggar under water too long.”
I shuddered, and thought of the man being bayoneted from our boat, and Mr Grey’s narrow escape.
“Your fellows behaved better, I s’pose?” said Barkins.
“Not a bit,” I said. “We’ve got a man stabbed just in the same way—” and I told him of our adventures.
“They’re nice ones,” said Barkins sourly. “I don’t think our chaps will want to take many prisoners next time. But I say, what a crusher for them—all four junks, and not a man to go back and tell the tale.”
“It’s glorious,” I cried, forgetting the horrors in our triumph.
“For you,” said Barkins sourly.
“Why for me? You and poor old Smith did your part. Don’t be so jolly envious.”
“Envious? Come, I like that,” he cried. “If you felt as if something red-hot was being stuck in your leg you’d feel envious too. You’re the luckiest beggar that ever was, and never get hurt or anything.”
“No more do you,” I said, laughing.
“Oh, don’t I? What do you call that, then?” he cried, swinging his legs round, for he was sitting with one of them under the table.
To my horror and astonishment, I saw that his leg was bandaged, and a red stain was showing through.
“Why, Tanner, old chap,” I cried, catching his hand as my eyes were blurred; “I didn’t know you were hurt.”
He looked quite pleased at my weakness, and the emotion I showed.
“Oh, it ain’t much,” he said, smiling and holding on to my hand very tightly; “but it pringles and sticks a bit, I mean stingles—no, I don’t! My tongue’s getting all in a knot, it tingles and pricks a bit. I say, Gnat, old chap, you don’t think those chaps carry poisoned knives, do you?”
“What, like the Malays? Oh no.”
“I’m glad of that, because it made me feel a bit funky. I thought this stinging might mean the poison spreading.”
“Oh no, don’t think that,” I cried; “and some one told me a Malay prince said it was all nonsense about the knives being poisoned.”
“He did?”
“Yes; he laughed, and said there was no need to poison them, they were quite sharp enough to kill a man without.”
“That depends on where you put it in,” said Barkins grimly.
“Yes,” I said; “but what did the doctor say?”
“What about?”
“Your leg.”
“He hasn’t seen it yet.”
“Why, Tanner,” I cried, “you haven’t had it properly bandaged.”
“No; I felt so sick when I got on board, that I sneaked off here to lie down a bit. Besides, he had poor old Blacksmith to see to, and the other chaps.”
“But didn’t he see the bandage when you went there?”
“No; there was no bandage then. It’s only a bit of a scratch; I tied it up myself.”
“How was it?”
“I don’t hardly know. It was done in a scuffle somehow, when we had got the first prisoner in hand. He began laying about him with a knife, and gave it to two of our lads badly, and just caught me in the leg. It was so little that I didn’t like to make a fuss about it. Here, stop, don’t leave a chap. I want to talk to you.”
“Back directly,” I cried, and I hurried on deck so quickly that I nearly blundered up against Mr Reardon.
“Manners, midshipman!” he said sharply. “Stop, sir. Where are you going?”
“Doctor, sir.”
“What, are you hurt, my lad?” he cried anxiously.
“No, sir, but poor Barkins is.”
“Bless my soul, how unfortunate! Mr Smith down too! Where is he?”
I told him, and he hurried with me to the doctor, who was putting on his coat, after finishing the last dressing of the injured men.
“Here, doctor,” cried Mr Reardon sharply, “I’ve another man down—boy, I mean.”
“What, young Smith? I’ve dressed his wound.”
“No, no; Barkins has been touched too.”
“Tut, tut!” cried the doctor, taking up a roll of bandage. “Are they bringing him?”
“No, sir; he’s sitting by his berth. He tied up the wound himself.”
Without another word the doctor started off, and we followed to where Barkins sat by the table with his back leaning against the side of his berth, and as soon as he caught sight of us he darted a reproachful look at me.
“Oh, I say, Gnat,” he whispered, “this is too bad.” For the doctor had raised the leg, and, after taking off the handkerchief, roughly tied round just above the knee, made no scruple about slitting up the lad’s trousers with an ugly-looking knife, having a hooky kind of blade.
“Bad?” said Mr Reardon anxiously.
“Oh dear, no,” replied the doctor. “Nice clean cut. Sponge and water, youngster. Ha, yes,” he continued, as he applied the cool, soft sponge to the bleeding wound, “avoided all the vessels nicely.”
“Gnat, old chap,” whispered Barkins, as I half supported him, “pinch me, there’s a good fellow.”
“What for?” I whispered back.
“Feel sicky and queer. Don’t let me faint before him.”
“Here, hallo! Barkins, don’t turn like a great girl over a scratch—lower his head down, boy. That’s the way. He’ll soon come round. Ever see a wound dressed before?”
“No, sir,” I said, repressing a shudder.
“Don’t tease the boys, doctor,” said Mr Reardon sharply; “get the wound dressed.”
“Well, I am dressing it, arn’t I?” said the doctor cheerily, and as if he enjoyed his task. “I must draw the edges together first.”
He had taken what seemed to be a pocket-book from his breast and laid it open, and as I looked on, feeling sick myself, I saw him really put in three or four stitches, and then strap up and bandage the wound, just as Barkins came to and looked about wonderingly.
“I didn’t faint, did I?” he said anxiously.
The doctor laughed.
“There, lie down in your berth,” he said. “Let me help you.”
He assisted my messmate gently enough, and then said laughingly—
“One can dress your wound without having three men to hold you. I say, Reardon, isn’t it waste of good surgical skill for me to be dressing the prisoners’ wounds, if you folk are going to hang them?”
“I don’t know that we are going to hang them,” said the lieutenant quietly. “Perhaps we shall deliver them over to the Chinese authorities at Wanghai.”
“What? My dear fellow, go and beg the captain to hang ’em at once out of their misery. It will be a kindness. Do you know what a Chinese prison is?”
“No.”
“Then I do. It would be a mercy to kill them.”
“The Chinese authorities may wish to make an example of them so as to repress piracy.”
“Let ’em make an example of some one else. Eh? Bandage too tight, my lad?”
“No, sir,” said Barkins rather faintly. “The wound hurts a good deal.”
“Good sign; ’tis its nature to,” said the doctor jocosely.
“But—er—you don’t think, sir—”
“‘That you may die after it,’ as we used to say over cut fingers at school. Bah! it’s a nice clean honest cut, made with a sharp knife. Heal up like anything with your healthy young flesh.”
“But don’t these savage people sometimes poison their blades, sir?”
“Don’t people who are wounded for the first time get all kinds of cock-and-bull notions into their heads, sir? There, go to sleep and forget all about it. Healthy smarting is what you feel. Why, you’ll be able to limp about the deck with a stick to-morrow.”
“Do you mean it, sir?”
“Of course.”
Barkins gave him a grateful look, and Mr Reardon shook hands, nodded, and left us to ourselves for a moment, then the doctor thrust in his head again.
“Here, lads,” he said, “Smith’s all right, I’ve made a capital job of his arm. Your turn next, Herrick. Good-bye.”
This time we were left alone.
Chapter Thirteen.A Wild-Beasts’ Cage.All doubts as to our next destination were set at rest the next morning, for it was generally known that we were making for Tsin-Tsin, at the mouth of the Great Fo river, where the prisoners were to be delivered over to the Chinese authorities.I had been pretty busy all the morning with Barkins and Smith, going from one to the other, to sit with them and give them what news I could, both looking rather glum when I went away, for they were feverish and fretful from their wounds. But I promised to return soon with news of the men, who were all together in a cool, well-ventilated part of the ’tween-decks, seeming restful and patient, the doctor having been round, and, in his short, decisive way, given them a few words of encouragement.I saw their faces light up as I went down between the two rows in which they were laid, and stopped for a chat with those I knew best, about the way in which they had received their wounds, the coxswain of our boat being the most talkative.“They all got it ’bout the same way, sir,” he said. “It all comes of trying to do the beggars a good turn. Who’d ever have thought it, eh, sir? Trying to save a fellow from drownding, and knives yer!”They were all very eager to know what was to become of the prisoners, and upon my telling the poor fellows what I knew, I heard them giving their opinions to one another in a lying-down debate.“Seems a pity,” said one of the men. “Takes all that there trouble, we does; captivates ’em; and then, ’stead o’ having the right to hang ’em all decently at the yard-arm, we has to give ’em up to the teapots.”“How are you going to hang ’em decently?” said another voice.“Reg’lar way, o’ course, matey.”“Yah, who’s going to do it? British sailors don’t want turning into Jack Ketches.”“’Course not,” said a third. “Shooting or cutting a fellow down in fair fight’s one thing; taking prisoners and hanging on ’em arterwards, quite another pair o’ shoes. I says as the skipper’s right.”“Hear, hear!” rose in chorus, and it seemed to be pretty generally agreed that we should be very glad to get rid of the savage brutes.I was on my way back to where Smith lay, when I encountered the doctor, who gave me a friendly nod.“At your service, Mr Herrick,” he said, “when you want me; and, by the way, my lad, your messmate Barkins has got that idea in his head still, about the poisoned blade. Try and laugh him out of it. Thoughts like that hinder progress, and it is all nonsense. His is a good, clean, healthy wound.”He passed on, looking very business-like, and his dresser followed, while I went on to see Smith.“Good, clean, healthy wound!” I said to myself; “I believe he takes delight in such things.”I turned back to look after him, but he was gone.“Why, he has been to attend to the prisoners,” I thought, and this set me thinking about them. To think about them was to begin wishing to have a look at them, and to begin wishing was with me to walk forward to where they were confined, with a couple of marines on duty with loaded rifles and fixed bayonets.The men challenged as I marched up.“It’s all right,” I said. “I only want to have a look at them.”“Can’t pass, sir, without orders,” said the man.“But I’m an officer,” I said testily. “I’m not going to help them escape.”The marine grinned.“No, sir, ’tain’t likely; but we has strict orders. You ask my mate, sir.”“Yes, sir; that’s it, sir,” said the other respectfully.“What a bother!” I cried impatiently. “I only wanted to see how they looked.”“’Tain’t my fault, sir; strict orders. And they ain’t very pretty to look at, sir, and it’d be ’most as safe to go in and see a box o’ wild-beasts. Doctor’s been in this last hour doin’ on ’em up, with depitty, and two on us inside at the ‘present’ all the time. They’d think nothing o’ flying at him, and all the time he was taking as much pains with them as if they were some of our chaps. They have give it to one another awful.”“Well, I am sorry,” I said. “I should have liked to see them.”“So’m I sorry, sir; I’d have let you in a minute, but you don’t want to get me in a row, sir.”“Oh no, of course not,” I said.“My mate here says, sir—”“Get out! Hold your row,” growled the other, protesting.“Yes, what does he say?” I cried eagerly.“That if we was to shut ’em up close in the dark and not go anigh, sir, till to-morrow morning, there wouldn’t be nothing left but one o’ their tails.”“Like the Kilkenny cats, eh?” I said, laughing; and I went back on deck with the desire to see the prisoners stronger than ever.Captain Thwaites was on the quarter-deck, marching up and down, and the men were hard at work cleaning up, squaring the yards, and repainting. The spars were up in their places again, and theTeaserwas rapidly resuming her old aspect, when I saw Mr Reardon go up to the captain.“I’ll ask leave,” I said. “He has been pretty civil;” and I made up my mind to wait till the lieutenant came away.“No, I won’t,” I said. “I’ll go and ask the captain when he has gone.”The next moment I felt that this would not do, for Mr Reardon would be sure to know, and feel vexed because I had not asked him.“I’ll go and ask leave while they are both together,” I said to myself. “That’s the way.”But I knew it wasn’t, and took a turn up and down till I saw Mr Reardon salute and come away, looking very intent and busy.I waited till he was pretty close, and then started to intercept him.His keen eye was on me in an instant.“Bless my soul, Mr Herrick!” he cried, “what are you doing? Surely your duty does not bring you here?”“No, sir,” I said, saluting. “I beg your pardon, sir; I’ve been going backward and forward to Mr Barkins and Mr Smith.”“Ho! Pair of young noodles; what did they want in the boats? Getting hurt like that. Well?”“Beg pardon, sir; would you mind giving me permission to see the prisoners?”“What! why?”“I wanted to see them, sir, and go back and tell my messmates about how they looked.”“Humbug!” he cried. “Look here, sir, do you think I have nothing else to do but act as a wild-beast showman, to gratify your impertinent curiosity? Let the miserable wretches be.”“Yes, sir.”“And be off to your cabin and study your navigation, sir. Your ignorance of the simplest matters is fearful. At your age you ought to be as well able to use a sextant as I am.”“Beg pardon, sir, I am trying.”“Then be off and try more, and let me see some results.”I touched my cap, drew back, and the lieutenant marched on.“Jolly old bear!” I muttered, looking exceedingly crestfallen.“Herrick!” came sharply, and I ran up, for he was walking on, and I had to keep up with him.“Yes, sir.”“You behaved very well yesterday. I’m horribly busy. Here, this way.”“Thank you, sir,” I said, wondering what he was going to set me to do, and thinking that he might have given me the permission I asked.“Now then, quick,” he said; and, to my surprise, he led the way to the hatchway, went down, and then forward to where the two marines were on duty, ready to present arms to the officer who always seemed of far more importance in the ship than the captain.“Let Mr Herrick pass in, marines,” he said. “Keep a sharp eye on your prisoners.”I gave him a look of thanks, and then felt disappointed again.“Stop,” he said; “fetch up two more men and a lantern, Herrick.”I gladly obeyed; and then the door was opened. After a look in through the grating, and followed closely by three of the marines with their rifles ready, we walked in to where the prisoners were squatted upon their heels all round close up against the bulkheads, bandaged terribly about the faces and necks, and with their fierce eyes glowering at us.I had expected to find them lying about like wounded men, but, bad as several were, they all occupied this sitting position, and glared at us in a way that told us very plainly how unsafe it would be to trust our lives in their keeping even for a minute.“Beg pardon, sir,” whispered the corporal of marines, who was carrying a lantern; “better be on the look-out.”“Oh yes,” said Mr Reardon. “We shall not stay. I only wanted a look round. Look sharp, Mr Herrick, and see what you want of them.”“Doctor was dressing that farthest chap’s head, sir,” whispered the corporal to me; “and as soon as he was about done, the fellow watched his chance and fixed his teeth in the dresser’s arm, and wouldn’t let go till—”“Well? Till what?” said Mr Reardon, gazing fixedly at the brutal countenance of one of the men right before us.“We had to persuade him to let go.”“Humph!” ejaculated the lieutenant. “Wild-beast.”“How did you persuade him?” I whispered.“With the butt-end of a rifle, sir; and then we had to wrench his teeth open with bayonets.”I looked round from face to face, all ghastly from their wounds, to see in every one a fierce pair of eyes glaring at me with undying hatred, and I was wondering how it was that people could think of the Chinese as being a calm, bland, good-humoured Eastern race, when Mr Reardon said to me—“Nearly ready, Herrick? The sight of these men completely takes away all compunction as to the way we treat them.”“Yes, sir; and it makes one feel glad that they are not armed.”“Ready to come away?”“Yes, sir,” I said; “quite.”“Come along, then.”He took a step towards the door, when the corporal said, “Beg pardon, sir; better back out.”“Eh? oh, nonsense!” said the lieutenant, without changing his position, while I, though I began to feel impressed with the glaring eyes, and to feel that the sooner we were out of the place the pleasanter it would be, thought that it would be rather undignified on the part of officers to show the wretches that we were afraid of them.Just then Mr Reardon glanced sidewise to where one of the men on our left crouched near the door, and said quickly—“The surgeon saw all these men this morning?”“Yes, sir,” said the corporal, “not half an hour ago.”“He must be fetched to that man. The poor wretch is ready to faint.”“Yes, sir; he shall be fetched.”Mr Reardon bent down to look at the prisoner more closely.“Hold the lantern nearer,” he said.The corporal lowered the light, which shone on the pirate’s glassy eyes, and there was a fixed look in his savage features which was very horrible.“Get some water for him,” said Mr Reardon.But hardly had the words left his lips when I was conscious of a rushing sound behind me. I was dashed sidewise, and one of the prisoners, who had made a tremendous spring, alighted on the lieutenant’s back, driving him forward as I heard the sound of a blow; the corporal was driven sidewise too, and the lantern fell from his hand. Then came a terrible shriek, and a scuffling, struggling sound, a part of which I helped to make, for I had been driven against one of the prisoners, who seized me, and as I wrestled with him I felt his hot breath upon my face, and his hands scuffling about to get a tight grip of my throat.
All doubts as to our next destination were set at rest the next morning, for it was generally known that we were making for Tsin-Tsin, at the mouth of the Great Fo river, where the prisoners were to be delivered over to the Chinese authorities.
I had been pretty busy all the morning with Barkins and Smith, going from one to the other, to sit with them and give them what news I could, both looking rather glum when I went away, for they were feverish and fretful from their wounds. But I promised to return soon with news of the men, who were all together in a cool, well-ventilated part of the ’tween-decks, seeming restful and patient, the doctor having been round, and, in his short, decisive way, given them a few words of encouragement.
I saw their faces light up as I went down between the two rows in which they were laid, and stopped for a chat with those I knew best, about the way in which they had received their wounds, the coxswain of our boat being the most talkative.
“They all got it ’bout the same way, sir,” he said. “It all comes of trying to do the beggars a good turn. Who’d ever have thought it, eh, sir? Trying to save a fellow from drownding, and knives yer!”
They were all very eager to know what was to become of the prisoners, and upon my telling the poor fellows what I knew, I heard them giving their opinions to one another in a lying-down debate.
“Seems a pity,” said one of the men. “Takes all that there trouble, we does; captivates ’em; and then, ’stead o’ having the right to hang ’em all decently at the yard-arm, we has to give ’em up to the teapots.”
“How are you going to hang ’em decently?” said another voice.
“Reg’lar way, o’ course, matey.”
“Yah, who’s going to do it? British sailors don’t want turning into Jack Ketches.”
“’Course not,” said a third. “Shooting or cutting a fellow down in fair fight’s one thing; taking prisoners and hanging on ’em arterwards, quite another pair o’ shoes. I says as the skipper’s right.”
“Hear, hear!” rose in chorus, and it seemed to be pretty generally agreed that we should be very glad to get rid of the savage brutes.
I was on my way back to where Smith lay, when I encountered the doctor, who gave me a friendly nod.
“At your service, Mr Herrick,” he said, “when you want me; and, by the way, my lad, your messmate Barkins has got that idea in his head still, about the poisoned blade. Try and laugh him out of it. Thoughts like that hinder progress, and it is all nonsense. His is a good, clean, healthy wound.”
He passed on, looking very business-like, and his dresser followed, while I went on to see Smith.
“Good, clean, healthy wound!” I said to myself; “I believe he takes delight in such things.”
I turned back to look after him, but he was gone.
“Why, he has been to attend to the prisoners,” I thought, and this set me thinking about them. To think about them was to begin wishing to have a look at them, and to begin wishing was with me to walk forward to where they were confined, with a couple of marines on duty with loaded rifles and fixed bayonets.
The men challenged as I marched up.
“It’s all right,” I said. “I only want to have a look at them.”
“Can’t pass, sir, without orders,” said the man.
“But I’m an officer,” I said testily. “I’m not going to help them escape.”
The marine grinned.
“No, sir, ’tain’t likely; but we has strict orders. You ask my mate, sir.”
“Yes, sir; that’s it, sir,” said the other respectfully.
“What a bother!” I cried impatiently. “I only wanted to see how they looked.”
“’Tain’t my fault, sir; strict orders. And they ain’t very pretty to look at, sir, and it’d be ’most as safe to go in and see a box o’ wild-beasts. Doctor’s been in this last hour doin’ on ’em up, with depitty, and two on us inside at the ‘present’ all the time. They’d think nothing o’ flying at him, and all the time he was taking as much pains with them as if they were some of our chaps. They have give it to one another awful.”
“Well, I am sorry,” I said. “I should have liked to see them.”
“So’m I sorry, sir; I’d have let you in a minute, but you don’t want to get me in a row, sir.”
“Oh no, of course not,” I said.
“My mate here says, sir—”
“Get out! Hold your row,” growled the other, protesting.
“Yes, what does he say?” I cried eagerly.
“That if we was to shut ’em up close in the dark and not go anigh, sir, till to-morrow morning, there wouldn’t be nothing left but one o’ their tails.”
“Like the Kilkenny cats, eh?” I said, laughing; and I went back on deck with the desire to see the prisoners stronger than ever.
Captain Thwaites was on the quarter-deck, marching up and down, and the men were hard at work cleaning up, squaring the yards, and repainting. The spars were up in their places again, and theTeaserwas rapidly resuming her old aspect, when I saw Mr Reardon go up to the captain.
“I’ll ask leave,” I said. “He has been pretty civil;” and I made up my mind to wait till the lieutenant came away.
“No, I won’t,” I said. “I’ll go and ask the captain when he has gone.”
The next moment I felt that this would not do, for Mr Reardon would be sure to know, and feel vexed because I had not asked him.
“I’ll go and ask leave while they are both together,” I said to myself. “That’s the way.”
But I knew it wasn’t, and took a turn up and down till I saw Mr Reardon salute and come away, looking very intent and busy.
I waited till he was pretty close, and then started to intercept him.
His keen eye was on me in an instant.
“Bless my soul, Mr Herrick!” he cried, “what are you doing? Surely your duty does not bring you here?”
“No, sir,” I said, saluting. “I beg your pardon, sir; I’ve been going backward and forward to Mr Barkins and Mr Smith.”
“Ho! Pair of young noodles; what did they want in the boats? Getting hurt like that. Well?”
“Beg pardon, sir; would you mind giving me permission to see the prisoners?”
“What! why?”
“I wanted to see them, sir, and go back and tell my messmates about how they looked.”
“Humbug!” he cried. “Look here, sir, do you think I have nothing else to do but act as a wild-beast showman, to gratify your impertinent curiosity? Let the miserable wretches be.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And be off to your cabin and study your navigation, sir. Your ignorance of the simplest matters is fearful. At your age you ought to be as well able to use a sextant as I am.”
“Beg pardon, sir, I am trying.”
“Then be off and try more, and let me see some results.”
I touched my cap, drew back, and the lieutenant marched on.
“Jolly old bear!” I muttered, looking exceedingly crestfallen.
“Herrick!” came sharply, and I ran up, for he was walking on, and I had to keep up with him.
“Yes, sir.”
“You behaved very well yesterday. I’m horribly busy. Here, this way.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said, wondering what he was going to set me to do, and thinking that he might have given me the permission I asked.
“Now then, quick,” he said; and, to my surprise, he led the way to the hatchway, went down, and then forward to where the two marines were on duty, ready to present arms to the officer who always seemed of far more importance in the ship than the captain.
“Let Mr Herrick pass in, marines,” he said. “Keep a sharp eye on your prisoners.”
I gave him a look of thanks, and then felt disappointed again.
“Stop,” he said; “fetch up two more men and a lantern, Herrick.”
I gladly obeyed; and then the door was opened. After a look in through the grating, and followed closely by three of the marines with their rifles ready, we walked in to where the prisoners were squatted upon their heels all round close up against the bulkheads, bandaged terribly about the faces and necks, and with their fierce eyes glowering at us.
I had expected to find them lying about like wounded men, but, bad as several were, they all occupied this sitting position, and glared at us in a way that told us very plainly how unsafe it would be to trust our lives in their keeping even for a minute.
“Beg pardon, sir,” whispered the corporal of marines, who was carrying a lantern; “better be on the look-out.”
“Oh yes,” said Mr Reardon. “We shall not stay. I only wanted a look round. Look sharp, Mr Herrick, and see what you want of them.”
“Doctor was dressing that farthest chap’s head, sir,” whispered the corporal to me; “and as soon as he was about done, the fellow watched his chance and fixed his teeth in the dresser’s arm, and wouldn’t let go till—”
“Well? Till what?” said Mr Reardon, gazing fixedly at the brutal countenance of one of the men right before us.
“We had to persuade him to let go.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the lieutenant. “Wild-beast.”
“How did you persuade him?” I whispered.
“With the butt-end of a rifle, sir; and then we had to wrench his teeth open with bayonets.”
I looked round from face to face, all ghastly from their wounds, to see in every one a fierce pair of eyes glaring at me with undying hatred, and I was wondering how it was that people could think of the Chinese as being a calm, bland, good-humoured Eastern race, when Mr Reardon said to me—
“Nearly ready, Herrick? The sight of these men completely takes away all compunction as to the way we treat them.”
“Yes, sir; and it makes one feel glad that they are not armed.”
“Ready to come away?”
“Yes, sir,” I said; “quite.”
“Come along, then.”
He took a step towards the door, when the corporal said, “Beg pardon, sir; better back out.”
“Eh? oh, nonsense!” said the lieutenant, without changing his position, while I, though I began to feel impressed with the glaring eyes, and to feel that the sooner we were out of the place the pleasanter it would be, thought that it would be rather undignified on the part of officers to show the wretches that we were afraid of them.
Just then Mr Reardon glanced sidewise to where one of the men on our left crouched near the door, and said quickly—
“The surgeon saw all these men this morning?”
“Yes, sir,” said the corporal, “not half an hour ago.”
“He must be fetched to that man. The poor wretch is ready to faint.”
“Yes, sir; he shall be fetched.”
Mr Reardon bent down to look at the prisoner more closely.
“Hold the lantern nearer,” he said.
The corporal lowered the light, which shone on the pirate’s glassy eyes, and there was a fixed look in his savage features which was very horrible.
“Get some water for him,” said Mr Reardon.
But hardly had the words left his lips when I was conscious of a rushing sound behind me. I was dashed sidewise, and one of the prisoners, who had made a tremendous spring, alighted on the lieutenant’s back, driving him forward as I heard the sound of a blow; the corporal was driven sidewise too, and the lantern fell from his hand. Then came a terrible shriek, and a scuffling, struggling sound, a part of which I helped to make, for I had been driven against one of the prisoners, who seized me, and as I wrestled with him I felt his hot breath upon my face, and his hands scuffling about to get a tight grip of my throat.
Chapter Fourteen.The Sequel.If ever I was active it was at that moment. I struck out with my clenched fists, throwing all the power I possessed into my blows, and fortunately for me—a mere boy in the grasp of a heavily-built man—he was comparatively, powerless from loss of blood consequent upon his wounds, so that I was able to wrest myself free, and stand erect.At that moment the corporal recovered the lantern, and held it up, showing that fully half the prisoners had left the spots where they were crouching the minute before, and were making an effort to join in the fray initiated by one of the savages of whom we had been warned.It is all very horrible to write of, but I am telling a simple story in this log of what takes place in warfare, when men of our army and navy contend with the uncivilised enemies of other lands. In this case we were encountering a gang of bloodthirsty wretches, whose whole career had been one of rapine and destruction. The desire seemed to be innate to kill, and this man, a prisoner, who since he had been taken had received nothing but kindness and attention, had been patiently watching for the opportunity which came at last. Just as Mr Reardon was stooping to attend to his fellow-prisoner, he had made a tremendous cat-like bound, driving me sidewise as he alighted on Mr Reardon’s back, making at the same time a would-be deadly stroke with a small knife he had managed to keep hidden in the folds of his cotton jacket.As I rose up I could see the knife sticking in the lieutenant’s shoulder, apparently driven sidewise into his neck, while he was standing with his eyes dilated, looking in horror at his assailant, who now lay back, quivering in the agonies of death, literally pinned down to the deck.My brain swam, and for a few moments everything looked misty, but that horrid sight forced itself upon me, and I felt as if I must stare hard at the pirate, where he lay bayoneted and held down at the end of the rifle by the strong arms of the marine sentry, who was pressing with all his might upon the stock.The struggling went on for a few moments, then grew less and less violent, while a low hissing sound came from the prisoners around. Then the quivering entirely ceased, and the marine gave his bayonet a twist, and dragged it out of the wretch’s chest, throwing himself back into position to strike again, should it be necessary. But the last breath had passed the pirate’s lips; and, while the sentry drew back to his place by one side of the door and stood ready, his comrade fell back to the other, and the corporal and the fourth man seized the pirate, and rapidly drew him forth through the doorway; we followed, the place was closed and fastened, and I stood panting, as if I had been running hard, and could not recover my breath.The next moment I was clinging to Mr Reardon, trying to hold him up, but he misinterpreted my action, and seized and gave me a rough shake.“Don’t, boy,” he cried in an angry, excited tone. “Stand up; be a man.”“Yes, yes,” I gasped; “but quick, corporal! never mind—that wretch—run—the doctor—fetch Mr Price.”“Bah!” cried Mr Reardon roughly, and trying to hide his own agitation, “the man’s dead.”I stared at him in horror.“He don’t know!” I gasped. “Mr Reardon—sit—lie—lay him down, my lads. Don’t you know you are badly hurt?”“I! hurt?” he cried. “No; I felt him hit me, but it was nothing.”I reached up my trembling hand, but he caught it as it touched his shoulder, and was in the act of snatching it away, when his own came in contact with the handle of the knife.“Great heavens!” he ejaculated, as he drew it forth from where it was sticking through the stiff collar of his coat; “right through from side to side—what a narrow escape!”“I—I thought he had killed you,” I cried faintly, and a deathly sensation made me feel for the moment as if I must fall.“No, not a scratch,” he said firmly now. “A little memento,” he muttered, as he took out his handkerchief and wrapped it round the blade before thrusting the knife in his breast-pocket. “I must keep that for my private museum, Herrick. Here, my lads, throw something over that wretch. Sentry, I’ll talk to you later on. You saved my life.”“Officer’s orders, sir,” said the man, looking uncomfortable and stiff as he drew himself up.“What, to save my life?” said Mr Reardon, smiling, and trying to look as if everything had been part of the ordinary business of life.“No, sir; to keep my eye on the Chinees. I had mine on that chap, for he looked ugly at you, and I see him pull himself together, shuffle in his blue jacket, and then make a jump at you, just like a cat at a rat.”“What?”“Beg pardon, sir,” said the man awkwardly; “I don’t mean to say as you looked like a rat.”“I hope not, my lad.”“I meant him jumping like a cat.”“Yes; and you saw him springing at me?”“Yes, sir.”“Well, what then?”“Only bayonet practice, sir—point from guard, and he came right on it.”“Yes?”“Then I held him down, sir.”I saw Mr Reardon shudder slightly.“That will do, sentry,” he said shortly. “I will see you another time. Come, Mr Herrick.”I followed him on deck, and saw him take off his cap and wipe his forehead, but he turned consciously to see if I was looking.“Rather warm below,” he said drily. “I’d better have kept to my first answer to you, my lad. You see it’s dangerous to go into a wild-beasts’ cage.”“Yes, sir, I’m very sorry,” I said; then, anxiously, “But you are sure you are not hurt, sir?”“Tut, tut! I told you no, boy. There, there, I don’t mean that. Not even scratched, Mr Herrick. You can go to your messmates now with an adventure to tell them,” he added, smiling; “only don’t dress it up into a highly-coloured story, about how your superior officer relaxed the strict rules of dishipline; do you hear?”“Yes, sir, I hear,” I said, and I left him going to join the captain, while I went down and told Barkins what had been going on, but I had not been talking to him five minutes before I heard a heavy splash as if something had been thrown over the side.“What’s that?” said Barkins, turning pale.I did not answer.“Sounds like burying some one,” he whispered. “Don’t say poor old Blacksmith has gone?”“No no,” I said. “I know what it is. Wait till I’ve told you all I have to tell, and then you’ll know too.”He looked at me wonderingly, and I completed my account of the scene in the black-hole place.“Oh, I see,” he cried; “it was the Chinaman?”I nodded carelessly, but I felt more serious than ever before in my life, at this horrible sequel to a fearful scene.
If ever I was active it was at that moment. I struck out with my clenched fists, throwing all the power I possessed into my blows, and fortunately for me—a mere boy in the grasp of a heavily-built man—he was comparatively, powerless from loss of blood consequent upon his wounds, so that I was able to wrest myself free, and stand erect.
At that moment the corporal recovered the lantern, and held it up, showing that fully half the prisoners had left the spots where they were crouching the minute before, and were making an effort to join in the fray initiated by one of the savages of whom we had been warned.
It is all very horrible to write of, but I am telling a simple story in this log of what takes place in warfare, when men of our army and navy contend with the uncivilised enemies of other lands. In this case we were encountering a gang of bloodthirsty wretches, whose whole career had been one of rapine and destruction. The desire seemed to be innate to kill, and this man, a prisoner, who since he had been taken had received nothing but kindness and attention, had been patiently watching for the opportunity which came at last. Just as Mr Reardon was stooping to attend to his fellow-prisoner, he had made a tremendous cat-like bound, driving me sidewise as he alighted on Mr Reardon’s back, making at the same time a would-be deadly stroke with a small knife he had managed to keep hidden in the folds of his cotton jacket.
As I rose up I could see the knife sticking in the lieutenant’s shoulder, apparently driven sidewise into his neck, while he was standing with his eyes dilated, looking in horror at his assailant, who now lay back, quivering in the agonies of death, literally pinned down to the deck.
My brain swam, and for a few moments everything looked misty, but that horrid sight forced itself upon me, and I felt as if I must stare hard at the pirate, where he lay bayoneted and held down at the end of the rifle by the strong arms of the marine sentry, who was pressing with all his might upon the stock.
The struggling went on for a few moments, then grew less and less violent, while a low hissing sound came from the prisoners around. Then the quivering entirely ceased, and the marine gave his bayonet a twist, and dragged it out of the wretch’s chest, throwing himself back into position to strike again, should it be necessary. But the last breath had passed the pirate’s lips; and, while the sentry drew back to his place by one side of the door and stood ready, his comrade fell back to the other, and the corporal and the fourth man seized the pirate, and rapidly drew him forth through the doorway; we followed, the place was closed and fastened, and I stood panting, as if I had been running hard, and could not recover my breath.
The next moment I was clinging to Mr Reardon, trying to hold him up, but he misinterpreted my action, and seized and gave me a rough shake.
“Don’t, boy,” he cried in an angry, excited tone. “Stand up; be a man.”
“Yes, yes,” I gasped; “but quick, corporal! never mind—that wretch—run—the doctor—fetch Mr Price.”
“Bah!” cried Mr Reardon roughly, and trying to hide his own agitation, “the man’s dead.”
I stared at him in horror.
“He don’t know!” I gasped. “Mr Reardon—sit—lie—lay him down, my lads. Don’t you know you are badly hurt?”
“I! hurt?” he cried. “No; I felt him hit me, but it was nothing.”
I reached up my trembling hand, but he caught it as it touched his shoulder, and was in the act of snatching it away, when his own came in contact with the handle of the knife.
“Great heavens!” he ejaculated, as he drew it forth from where it was sticking through the stiff collar of his coat; “right through from side to side—what a narrow escape!”
“I—I thought he had killed you,” I cried faintly, and a deathly sensation made me feel for the moment as if I must fall.
“No, not a scratch,” he said firmly now. “A little memento,” he muttered, as he took out his handkerchief and wrapped it round the blade before thrusting the knife in his breast-pocket. “I must keep that for my private museum, Herrick. Here, my lads, throw something over that wretch. Sentry, I’ll talk to you later on. You saved my life.”
“Officer’s orders, sir,” said the man, looking uncomfortable and stiff as he drew himself up.
“What, to save my life?” said Mr Reardon, smiling, and trying to look as if everything had been part of the ordinary business of life.
“No, sir; to keep my eye on the Chinees. I had mine on that chap, for he looked ugly at you, and I see him pull himself together, shuffle in his blue jacket, and then make a jump at you, just like a cat at a rat.”
“What?”
“Beg pardon, sir,” said the man awkwardly; “I don’t mean to say as you looked like a rat.”
“I hope not, my lad.”
“I meant him jumping like a cat.”
“Yes; and you saw him springing at me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, what then?”
“Only bayonet practice, sir—point from guard, and he came right on it.”
“Yes?”
“Then I held him down, sir.”
I saw Mr Reardon shudder slightly.
“That will do, sentry,” he said shortly. “I will see you another time. Come, Mr Herrick.”
I followed him on deck, and saw him take off his cap and wipe his forehead, but he turned consciously to see if I was looking.
“Rather warm below,” he said drily. “I’d better have kept to my first answer to you, my lad. You see it’s dangerous to go into a wild-beasts’ cage.”
“Yes, sir, I’m very sorry,” I said; then, anxiously, “But you are sure you are not hurt, sir?”
“Tut, tut! I told you no, boy. There, there, I don’t mean that. Not even scratched, Mr Herrick. You can go to your messmates now with an adventure to tell them,” he added, smiling; “only don’t dress it up into a highly-coloured story, about how your superior officer relaxed the strict rules of dishipline; do you hear?”
“Yes, sir, I hear,” I said, and I left him going to join the captain, while I went down and told Barkins what had been going on, but I had not been talking to him five minutes before I heard a heavy splash as if something had been thrown over the side.
“What’s that?” said Barkins, turning pale.
I did not answer.
“Sounds like burying some one,” he whispered. “Don’t say poor old Blacksmith has gone?”
“No no,” I said. “I know what it is. Wait till I’ve told you all I have to tell, and then you’ll know too.”
He looked at me wonderingly, and I completed my account of the scene in the black-hole place.
“Oh, I see,” he cried; “it was the Chinaman?”
I nodded carelessly, but I felt more serious than ever before in my life, at this horrible sequel to a fearful scene.
Chapter Fifteen.A Disappointment.“Very jolly for you,” said Barkins, as we cast anchor off Tsin-Tsin a couple of mornings later. “You’ll be going ashore and enjoying yourself, while I’m condemned to hobble on deck with a stick.”“I say, don’t grumble,” I cried. “Look how beautiful the place seems in the sunshine.”“Oh yes, it looks right enough; but wait till you go along the narrow streets, and get some of the smells.”“Hear that, Smithy?” I said to our comrade, who was lying in his berth. “Grumbles because he can’t go ashore, and then begins making out how bad it is. How about the fox and the grapes?”“If you call me fox, my lad, I’ll give you sour grapes when I get better. Where’s your glass?”I took down my telescope, adjusted it for him, and pushed his seat nearer to the open window, so that he could examine the bright-looking city, with the blue plum-bloom tinted mountains behind covered with dense forest, and at the shipping of all nations lying at the mouth of the river.“S’pose that tower’s made of crockery, isn’t it?” said Barkins, whose eye was at the end of the telescope.I looked at the beautiful object, with its pagoda-like terraces and hanging bells, and then at the various temples nestling high up on the sides of the hills beyond.“I say,” said Smith, “can’t you tell Mr Reardon—no, get the doctor to tell him—that I ought to be taken ashore for a bit to do me good?”“I’ll ask him to let you go,” I said; but Smith shook his head, and then screwed up his white face with a horrible look of disgust.“Oh, what a shame!” he cried. “He gets all the luck;” for a message came for me to be ready directly to go ashore with the captain in the longboat.It meant best uniform, for the weather was fine, and I knew that he would be going to pay a visit to some grand mandarin.I was quite right; for, when I reached the deck a few minutes later, there was Mr Brooke with the boat’s crew, all picked men, and a strong guard of marines in full plumage for his escort.The captain came out of his cabin soon after, with cocked hat and gold lace glistening, and away we went for the shore soon after; the last things I saw on theTeaserbeing the two disconsolate faces of my messmates at the cabin window, and Ching perched up on the hammock-rail watching our departure.I anticipated plenty of excitement that day, but was doomed to disappointment. I thought I should go with the escort to the mandarin’s palace, but Mr Brooke was considered to be more attractive, I suppose, and I had the mortification of seeing the captain and his escort of marines and Jacks land, while I had to stay with the boat-keepers to broil in the sunshine and make the best of it, watching the busy traffic on the great river.Distance lends enchantment to the view of a Chinese city undoubtedly, and before long we were quite satiated with the narrow limits of our close-in view, as well as with the near presence of the crowd of rough-looking fellows who hung about and stared, as I thought, rather contemptuously at the junior officer in Her Majesty’s service, who was feeling the thwarts of the boat and the hilt of his dirk most uncomfortably hot.“Like me to go ashore, sir, to that Chinesy sweetstuff shop, to get you one o’ their sweet cool drinks, sir?” said one of the men, after we had sat there roasting for some time.“No, thank you, Tom Jecks,” I said, in as sarcastic a tone as I could assume. “Mr Barkins says you are such a forgetful fellow, and you mightn’t come back before the captain.”There was a low chuckling laugh at this, and then came a loud rap.“What’s that?” I said sharply.“This here, sir,” said another of the men. “Some ’un’s been kind enough to send it. Shall I give it him back?”“No, no!” I cried, looking uneasily shoreward; and at that moment a stone, as large as the one previously sent, struck me a sharp blow on the leg.“They’re a-making cockshies of us, sir,” said Tom Jecks; “better let two of us go ashore and chivvy ’em off.”“Sit still, man, and—”Whop!“Oh, scissors!” cried a sailor; “who’s to sit still, sir, when he gets a squad on the back like that? Why, I shall have a bruise as big as a hen’s egg.”“Oars! push off!” I said shortly, as half-a-dozen stones came rattling into the boat; and as we began to move away from the wharf quite a burst of triumphant yells accompanied a shower of stones and refuse.“That’s their way o’ showing how werry much obliged they are to us for sinking the pirates,” growled Tom Jecks. “Oh, don’t I wish we had orders to bombard this blessed town! Go it! That didn’t hit you, did it, sir?”“No, it only brushed my cap,” I said, as the stones began to come more thickly, and the shouting told of the keen delight the mob enjoyed in making the English retreat. “Pull away, my lads, and throw the grapnel over as soon as we are out of reach.”“But we don’t want to pull away, sir. They thinks we’re fear’d on ’em. There’s about a hundred on ’em—dirty yaller-faced beggars, and there’s four o’ us, without counting you. Just you give the word, sir, and we’ll row back in spite o’ their stones, and make the whole gang on ’em run. Eh, mates?”“Ay, ay!” said the others, lying on their oars.“Pull!” I cried sharply, and they began rowing again; for though I should have liked to give the word, I knew that it would not only have been madness, but disobedience of orders. My duty was to take care of the boat, and this I was doing by having it rowed out beyond stone-throwing reach, with the Union Jack waving astern; and as soon as the stones fell short, and only splashed the water yards away, I had the grapnel dropped overboard, and we swung to it, waiting for the captain’s return.The men sat chewing their tobacco, lolling in the sun, and I lay back watching the crowd at the edge of the water, wondering how long the captain and his escort would be, and whether the prisoners would be given up.“Hope none o’ them pigtailed varmint won’t shy mud at the skipper,” said one of the men, yawning.“I hope they will,” said Tom Jecks.“Why, mate?”“’Cause he’ll order the jollies to fix bayonets and feel some o’ their backs with the p’ints.”The conversation interested me, and I forgot my dignity as an officer, and joined in.“Bayonets make bad wounds, Jecks,” I said.“Yes, sir, they do; nasty three-side wounds, as is bad to get healed up again. They aren’t half such a nice honest weapon as a cutlash. But I should like to see them beggars get a prod or two.”“It might mean trouble, Jecks, and a big rising of the people against the English merchants and residents.”“Well, sir, that would be unpleasant for the time, but look at the good it would do! The British consul would send off to theTeaser, the skipper would land a lot on us—Jacks and jollies; we should give these warmint a good sharp dressing-down; and they’d know as we wouldn’t stand any of their nonsense, and leave off chucking stones and mud at us. Now, what had we done that we couldn’t be ’lowed to lie alongside o’ the wharf yonder? We didn’t say nothing to them. Fact is, sir, they hates the British, and thinks they’re a sooperior kind o’ people altogether. Do you hear, mates?—sooperior kind o’ people; and there ain’t one as could use a knife and fork like a Chrishtian.”“And goes birds’-nestin’ when they wants soup,” said another.“Well, I don’t fall foul o’ that, matey,” said Jecks; “’cause where there’s nests there’s eggs, and a good noo-laid egg ain’t bad meat. It’s the nastiness o’ their natur’ that comes in there, and makes ’em eat the nest as well. What I do holler at, is their cooking dog.”“And cat,” said another.“And rat,” cried the third.“Yes, all on ’em,” said Jecks; “and I don’t want to use strong language afore one’s orficer, who’s a young gent as is allers thoughtful about his men, and who’s beginning to think now, that with the sun so precious hot he’ll be obliged to order us ashore soon for a drop o’ suthin’ to drink.”I laughed, and Tom Jecks chuckled.“But what I do say about their eatin’ and cookin’ is this, and I stands by what I says, it’s beastly, that’s what it is—it’s beastly!”“Ay, ay,” was chorussed, “so it is;” and then there was silence, while we all sat uneasily in the broiling sun.“Wish I was a gal,” growled one of the men at last.“Ain’t good-looking enough, matey,” said Jecks. “Why?”“’Cause then I s’ould have a sunshade to put up.”“Ay, ’tis warm—brylin’, as you may say. Any on you know whether the Chinese is cannibals? You know, sir?”“I have heard that they cook very strange things now and then,” I said, laughing.“Then they is,” said Jecks; “and that being so, they’ll have a fine chance to-day. Hadn’t you better send word to some on ’em to lay the cloth, sir?”“What for?”“’Cause I’m nearly done, sir; and Billy Wakes looks quite. Billy ought to eat nice and joocy, messmates.”“And old Tom Jecks tough as leather,” cried Wakes.“That’s so, matey,” growled Jecks, who began to pass his tongue over his lips, and to make a smacking sound with his mouth.“My hye, matey, you do seem hungry,” said one of the others. “Look out, Billy, or he won’t leave John Chinaman a taste.”“Get out!” growled Jecks; “that don’t mean hungry, messmate—that means dry. Beg pardon, sir, we won’t none on us try to slope off; but a good drink o’ suthin’, if it was on’y water, would be a blessin’ in disguise just now.”“Yes, Jecks, I’m thirsty too,” I said.“Then why not let us pull ashore, sir, and get a drink at one o’ them Chinee imitation grog-shops yonder?”“Because it would be a breach of discipline, my man,” I said, trying to speak very sternly. “I should look nice if the captain came back and found me with the boat and no men.”“Hark at that now!” cried Jecks. “Just as if we’d be the chaps to get a good-natured kind young orficer into a scrape. Look here, sir, put Billy Wakes ashore to go and fetch some drink. My hye, what we would give for half-a-gallon o’ real good cool solid old English beer.”“Ha!” came in a deep sigh, and I could not help feeling that a glass just then would be very nice.“Will you give the order, sir?” said Jecks insinuatingly. “Billy Wakes is a werry trustworthy sort of chap.”“Yes,” I said; “but he’d forget to come back, and then I should have to send you to find him, and then the others to find you. I know. There, you can light your pipes if you like.”“And werry thankful for small mussies,” said the old sailor, taking out his pipe. “You won’t want no matches, lads. Fill up and hold the bowls in the sun.”They lit up, and began smoking, while I watched the long narrow street down which the captain and his escort must come.“Think we shall have to land the prisoners, sir?” said Jecks, after a smoky silence.“I suppose so,” I replied. “I expect that is what the captain has gone ashore about.”“Don’t seem much good, that, sir. We takes ’em, and they’ll let ’em go, to start a fresh lot o’ plundering junks.”“Thundering junks, matey?” said Billy Wakes.“I said plundering, Billy, and meant it. Your eddication ain’t what it oughter be.”“No, Jecks,” I said; “if the pirates are given up, they’ll be executed for certain.”“Who says so, sir?”“First lieutenant,” I said.“Well, he ought to know, sir. Been on the Chinee station afore. P’raps it’s best, but I don’t want ’em to be hung.”“Don’t hang ’em here, Tommy,” growled one of the two silent men.“What do they do, then, old know-all?”“Chops their heads off, I’ve heerd.”“Oh, well, I don’t want ’em to have their heads chopped off. How should we like it if we was took prisoners?”“Oh, but we arn’t Chinees,” growled Billy Wakes.“Nor arn’t likely to be, mate; but we’ve got heads all the same. I know how I should like to be executed if it was to-day.”The others looked up, and I could not help turning my head at the strangely-expressed desire.“I’ll tell yer,” said Jecks, looking hard at me. “I should like it to be same as they did that young chap as we reads of in history. They drowned him in a big tub o’ wine.”“Grog would do for me,” said Billy Wakes.“Or beer,” cried the others.“Ask the captain to let you have some tea,” I cried, “Quick, haul up the grapnel! Here they come!”Pipes were knocked out on the instant, the grapnel hauled up, and oars seized; but, in spite of urging on the men, I saw to my vexation that the captain had reached the landing-place first, and I kept him waiting nearly five minutes in the broiling sun.He did not say anything, only glared at me as he stepped in, followed by his escort. The oars were dropped, and, as we began to row back to theTeaser, I saw that his face was scarlet with the heat, and he looked in a regular temper.“I shall catch it,” I thought to myself; but the very next moment my attention was taken to the shore, where a yell of derision arose from the crowd gathered to see the officers embark.“Brutes!” muttered the captain; and then he sprang up in a rage, for a shower of stones came pattering into the boat, and splashing up the water all round.He was so enraged by the insult, that he ordered the marines to load, and a volley of twelve rifles was fired over the people’s heads.The result was that they all ran helter-skelter, tumbling over each other, and by the time they returned and began throwing again we were out of their reach, but they kept on hurling stones and refuse all the same, and shouting “Foreign devils!” in their own tongue.
“Very jolly for you,” said Barkins, as we cast anchor off Tsin-Tsin a couple of mornings later. “You’ll be going ashore and enjoying yourself, while I’m condemned to hobble on deck with a stick.”
“I say, don’t grumble,” I cried. “Look how beautiful the place seems in the sunshine.”
“Oh yes, it looks right enough; but wait till you go along the narrow streets, and get some of the smells.”
“Hear that, Smithy?” I said to our comrade, who was lying in his berth. “Grumbles because he can’t go ashore, and then begins making out how bad it is. How about the fox and the grapes?”
“If you call me fox, my lad, I’ll give you sour grapes when I get better. Where’s your glass?”
I took down my telescope, adjusted it for him, and pushed his seat nearer to the open window, so that he could examine the bright-looking city, with the blue plum-bloom tinted mountains behind covered with dense forest, and at the shipping of all nations lying at the mouth of the river.
“S’pose that tower’s made of crockery, isn’t it?” said Barkins, whose eye was at the end of the telescope.
I looked at the beautiful object, with its pagoda-like terraces and hanging bells, and then at the various temples nestling high up on the sides of the hills beyond.
“I say,” said Smith, “can’t you tell Mr Reardon—no, get the doctor to tell him—that I ought to be taken ashore for a bit to do me good?”
“I’ll ask him to let you go,” I said; but Smith shook his head, and then screwed up his white face with a horrible look of disgust.
“Oh, what a shame!” he cried. “He gets all the luck;” for a message came for me to be ready directly to go ashore with the captain in the longboat.
It meant best uniform, for the weather was fine, and I knew that he would be going to pay a visit to some grand mandarin.
I was quite right; for, when I reached the deck a few minutes later, there was Mr Brooke with the boat’s crew, all picked men, and a strong guard of marines in full plumage for his escort.
The captain came out of his cabin soon after, with cocked hat and gold lace glistening, and away we went for the shore soon after; the last things I saw on theTeaserbeing the two disconsolate faces of my messmates at the cabin window, and Ching perched up on the hammock-rail watching our departure.
I anticipated plenty of excitement that day, but was doomed to disappointment. I thought I should go with the escort to the mandarin’s palace, but Mr Brooke was considered to be more attractive, I suppose, and I had the mortification of seeing the captain and his escort of marines and Jacks land, while I had to stay with the boat-keepers to broil in the sunshine and make the best of it, watching the busy traffic on the great river.
Distance lends enchantment to the view of a Chinese city undoubtedly, and before long we were quite satiated with the narrow limits of our close-in view, as well as with the near presence of the crowd of rough-looking fellows who hung about and stared, as I thought, rather contemptuously at the junior officer in Her Majesty’s service, who was feeling the thwarts of the boat and the hilt of his dirk most uncomfortably hot.
“Like me to go ashore, sir, to that Chinesy sweetstuff shop, to get you one o’ their sweet cool drinks, sir?” said one of the men, after we had sat there roasting for some time.
“No, thank you, Tom Jecks,” I said, in as sarcastic a tone as I could assume. “Mr Barkins says you are such a forgetful fellow, and you mightn’t come back before the captain.”
There was a low chuckling laugh at this, and then came a loud rap.
“What’s that?” I said sharply.
“This here, sir,” said another of the men. “Some ’un’s been kind enough to send it. Shall I give it him back?”
“No, no!” I cried, looking uneasily shoreward; and at that moment a stone, as large as the one previously sent, struck me a sharp blow on the leg.
“They’re a-making cockshies of us, sir,” said Tom Jecks; “better let two of us go ashore and chivvy ’em off.”
“Sit still, man, and—”
Whop!
“Oh, scissors!” cried a sailor; “who’s to sit still, sir, when he gets a squad on the back like that? Why, I shall have a bruise as big as a hen’s egg.”
“Oars! push off!” I said shortly, as half-a-dozen stones came rattling into the boat; and as we began to move away from the wharf quite a burst of triumphant yells accompanied a shower of stones and refuse.
“That’s their way o’ showing how werry much obliged they are to us for sinking the pirates,” growled Tom Jecks. “Oh, don’t I wish we had orders to bombard this blessed town! Go it! That didn’t hit you, did it, sir?”
“No, it only brushed my cap,” I said, as the stones began to come more thickly, and the shouting told of the keen delight the mob enjoyed in making the English retreat. “Pull away, my lads, and throw the grapnel over as soon as we are out of reach.”
“But we don’t want to pull away, sir. They thinks we’re fear’d on ’em. There’s about a hundred on ’em—dirty yaller-faced beggars, and there’s four o’ us, without counting you. Just you give the word, sir, and we’ll row back in spite o’ their stones, and make the whole gang on ’em run. Eh, mates?”
“Ay, ay!” said the others, lying on their oars.
“Pull!” I cried sharply, and they began rowing again; for though I should have liked to give the word, I knew that it would not only have been madness, but disobedience of orders. My duty was to take care of the boat, and this I was doing by having it rowed out beyond stone-throwing reach, with the Union Jack waving astern; and as soon as the stones fell short, and only splashed the water yards away, I had the grapnel dropped overboard, and we swung to it, waiting for the captain’s return.
The men sat chewing their tobacco, lolling in the sun, and I lay back watching the crowd at the edge of the water, wondering how long the captain and his escort would be, and whether the prisoners would be given up.
“Hope none o’ them pigtailed varmint won’t shy mud at the skipper,” said one of the men, yawning.
“I hope they will,” said Tom Jecks.
“Why, mate?”
“’Cause he’ll order the jollies to fix bayonets and feel some o’ their backs with the p’ints.”
The conversation interested me, and I forgot my dignity as an officer, and joined in.
“Bayonets make bad wounds, Jecks,” I said.
“Yes, sir, they do; nasty three-side wounds, as is bad to get healed up again. They aren’t half such a nice honest weapon as a cutlash. But I should like to see them beggars get a prod or two.”
“It might mean trouble, Jecks, and a big rising of the people against the English merchants and residents.”
“Well, sir, that would be unpleasant for the time, but look at the good it would do! The British consul would send off to theTeaser, the skipper would land a lot on us—Jacks and jollies; we should give these warmint a good sharp dressing-down; and they’d know as we wouldn’t stand any of their nonsense, and leave off chucking stones and mud at us. Now, what had we done that we couldn’t be ’lowed to lie alongside o’ the wharf yonder? We didn’t say nothing to them. Fact is, sir, they hates the British, and thinks they’re a sooperior kind o’ people altogether. Do you hear, mates?—sooperior kind o’ people; and there ain’t one as could use a knife and fork like a Chrishtian.”
“And goes birds’-nestin’ when they wants soup,” said another.
“Well, I don’t fall foul o’ that, matey,” said Jecks; “’cause where there’s nests there’s eggs, and a good noo-laid egg ain’t bad meat. It’s the nastiness o’ their natur’ that comes in there, and makes ’em eat the nest as well. What I do holler at, is their cooking dog.”
“And cat,” said another.
“And rat,” cried the third.
“Yes, all on ’em,” said Jecks; “and I don’t want to use strong language afore one’s orficer, who’s a young gent as is allers thoughtful about his men, and who’s beginning to think now, that with the sun so precious hot he’ll be obliged to order us ashore soon for a drop o’ suthin’ to drink.”
I laughed, and Tom Jecks chuckled.
“But what I do say about their eatin’ and cookin’ is this, and I stands by what I says, it’s beastly, that’s what it is—it’s beastly!”
“Ay, ay,” was chorussed, “so it is;” and then there was silence, while we all sat uneasily in the broiling sun.
“Wish I was a gal,” growled one of the men at last.
“Ain’t good-looking enough, matey,” said Jecks. “Why?”
“’Cause then I s’ould have a sunshade to put up.”
“Ay, ’tis warm—brylin’, as you may say. Any on you know whether the Chinese is cannibals? You know, sir?”
“I have heard that they cook very strange things now and then,” I said, laughing.
“Then they is,” said Jecks; “and that being so, they’ll have a fine chance to-day. Hadn’t you better send word to some on ’em to lay the cloth, sir?”
“What for?”
“’Cause I’m nearly done, sir; and Billy Wakes looks quite. Billy ought to eat nice and joocy, messmates.”
“And old Tom Jecks tough as leather,” cried Wakes.
“That’s so, matey,” growled Jecks, who began to pass his tongue over his lips, and to make a smacking sound with his mouth.
“My hye, matey, you do seem hungry,” said one of the others. “Look out, Billy, or he won’t leave John Chinaman a taste.”
“Get out!” growled Jecks; “that don’t mean hungry, messmate—that means dry. Beg pardon, sir, we won’t none on us try to slope off; but a good drink o’ suthin’, if it was on’y water, would be a blessin’ in disguise just now.”
“Yes, Jecks, I’m thirsty too,” I said.
“Then why not let us pull ashore, sir, and get a drink at one o’ them Chinee imitation grog-shops yonder?”
“Because it would be a breach of discipline, my man,” I said, trying to speak very sternly. “I should look nice if the captain came back and found me with the boat and no men.”
“Hark at that now!” cried Jecks. “Just as if we’d be the chaps to get a good-natured kind young orficer into a scrape. Look here, sir, put Billy Wakes ashore to go and fetch some drink. My hye, what we would give for half-a-gallon o’ real good cool solid old English beer.”
“Ha!” came in a deep sigh, and I could not help feeling that a glass just then would be very nice.
“Will you give the order, sir?” said Jecks insinuatingly. “Billy Wakes is a werry trustworthy sort of chap.”
“Yes,” I said; “but he’d forget to come back, and then I should have to send you to find him, and then the others to find you. I know. There, you can light your pipes if you like.”
“And werry thankful for small mussies,” said the old sailor, taking out his pipe. “You won’t want no matches, lads. Fill up and hold the bowls in the sun.”
They lit up, and began smoking, while I watched the long narrow street down which the captain and his escort must come.
“Think we shall have to land the prisoners, sir?” said Jecks, after a smoky silence.
“I suppose so,” I replied. “I expect that is what the captain has gone ashore about.”
“Don’t seem much good, that, sir. We takes ’em, and they’ll let ’em go, to start a fresh lot o’ plundering junks.”
“Thundering junks, matey?” said Billy Wakes.
“I said plundering, Billy, and meant it. Your eddication ain’t what it oughter be.”
“No, Jecks,” I said; “if the pirates are given up, they’ll be executed for certain.”
“Who says so, sir?”
“First lieutenant,” I said.
“Well, he ought to know, sir. Been on the Chinee station afore. P’raps it’s best, but I don’t want ’em to be hung.”
“Don’t hang ’em here, Tommy,” growled one of the two silent men.
“What do they do, then, old know-all?”
“Chops their heads off, I’ve heerd.”
“Oh, well, I don’t want ’em to have their heads chopped off. How should we like it if we was took prisoners?”
“Oh, but we arn’t Chinees,” growled Billy Wakes.
“Nor arn’t likely to be, mate; but we’ve got heads all the same. I know how I should like to be executed if it was to-day.”
The others looked up, and I could not help turning my head at the strangely-expressed desire.
“I’ll tell yer,” said Jecks, looking hard at me. “I should like it to be same as they did that young chap as we reads of in history. They drowned him in a big tub o’ wine.”
“Grog would do for me,” said Billy Wakes.
“Or beer,” cried the others.
“Ask the captain to let you have some tea,” I cried, “Quick, haul up the grapnel! Here they come!”
Pipes were knocked out on the instant, the grapnel hauled up, and oars seized; but, in spite of urging on the men, I saw to my vexation that the captain had reached the landing-place first, and I kept him waiting nearly five minutes in the broiling sun.
He did not say anything, only glared at me as he stepped in, followed by his escort. The oars were dropped, and, as we began to row back to theTeaser, I saw that his face was scarlet with the heat, and he looked in a regular temper.
“I shall catch it,” I thought to myself; but the very next moment my attention was taken to the shore, where a yell of derision arose from the crowd gathered to see the officers embark.
“Brutes!” muttered the captain; and then he sprang up in a rage, for a shower of stones came pattering into the boat, and splashing up the water all round.
He was so enraged by the insult, that he ordered the marines to load, and a volley of twelve rifles was fired over the people’s heads.
The result was that they all ran helter-skelter, tumbling over each other, and by the time they returned and began throwing again we were out of their reach, but they kept on hurling stones and refuse all the same, and shouting “Foreign devils!” in their own tongue.
Chapter Sixteen.An Interview.“Mr Herrick! Come to my cabin,” said the captain as he stepped on deck, and I followed him.“You stupid fellow,” whispered Mr Brooke as I passed him, “why didn’t you keep the boat by the wharf?”I gave him a comical look, and followed the captain; but I was kept waiting for a few moments at the door while the servant was summoned, and when I did go in my officer was lying back in his chair, with ice on the table, and a great glass of what seemed to be soda-water and brandy before him, but which proved by the decanter to be sherry.“Oh,” he cried angrily, “there you are, sir! Why didn’t you come at once, sir?”“I did, sir; but was kept waiting till you were ready.”“Well, sir, don’t answer in that pert way. It sounds like insolence. That will not do, Mr Herrick, if you wish to get on in your profession. Now, sir, your orders were to stop by the landing-place, with the boat in charge, ready for my return, were they not?”“Yes, sir; but—”“Silence, sir! How dare you interrupt me? I go up through the broiling heat to have an interview with that wretched, stolid, obstinate mandarin, with his confounded button and peacock-feather; and when I do get back, perfectly exhausted by the heat, half-dead, I find no boat.”“No, sir; but—”“Silence, sir! Will you let me speak? The consequence is that, because you choose to disobey orders, and take the men off to indulge in some of the disgusting drinks of this wretched country—”“I beg pardon, sir,” I cried; “I—”“Mr Herrick! am I to place you under arrest? Be silent, sir. I say, I return with my escort from an important diplomatic visit, arranged so as to impress the people, and when I return, almost fainting with the heat, there is no boat, because you have allowed the men to impose upon you; and you are away drinking with them, I suppose?”“No, sir; I—”“Mr Herrick!” he roared, “I will not bear it. I say there was no boat; and not only am I forced to submit to the indignity of waiting, and listening to the gibes of the low-class Chinese, and to see their scowls, but our delay there—through you, sir—results, I say results, in the miserable wretches taking advantage thereof, and, thinking me helpless, working themselves up to an attack. When at last you do come crawling up with those four men, they are purple-faced from drinking, every one threatened by apoplexy—why, your own face is crimson, sir; and I could smell the men when I stepped on board.”“No, sir—the dirty harbour, sir,” I said. “Smells horrid.”“You are under arrest, sir. Go! No; stop and hear me out first, sir. I say that, through your delay, I am kept there on that wretched wharf; and when I do push off, I have—I, Her Majesty’s representative, in the sight of these Chinese scoundrels—I have, I say, to suffer from the insult and contumely of being pelted, stoned, of having filth thrown at me. Look at my nearly new uniform coat, sir. Do you see this spot on the sleeve? A mark that will never come out. That was a blow, sir, made by a disgusting rotten fish’s head, sir. Loathsome—loathsome! While the insult to Her Majesty’s flag called upon me to fire upon the mob. Do you know what that means, sir?”“Yes, sir; a good lesson. They won’t be so saucy again.”“You ignorant young puppy!” he cried; “it may mean a serious international trouble—a diplomatic breach, and all through you. There, I was hot and bad enough before, now you have made me worse.”He stretched out his hand for the glass, but did not drink; and the sight of the cool liquid half-maddened me, for the heat and emotion had made my throat very dry.“Now, sir,” he cried, “I am your commanding officer, and no one on board Her Majesty’s cruiser shall ever say that I am not just. Now then, speak out; what have you to say? How came you to let the men go away to drink?”“I didn’t, sir,” I said huskily. “They wanted to go, for they were choking nearly, but I wouldn’t let them.”“What? Don’t seek refuge in a lie, boy. That’s making your fault ten times worse. Didn’t I see you returning to the wharf?”“Yes, sir,” I cried indignantly; “but the men had not been to drink.”“Then how dared you disobey my orders, and go away?” he roared, furious at being proved wrong.“I went, sir, because it was my duty.”“What!”“We stayed till the stone-throwing grew dangerous for us, and then I had the boat rowed out and anchored.”“Oh!”“But I kept watch till you came in sight, sir; and we were as quick as we could be.”“The mob pelted you too, Mr Herrick?”“Yes, sir,” I said; “and we couldn’t fire over their heads, nor yet row right away.”He looked at me angrily, and then his countenance changed.“Pert, Mr Herrick,” he said, “but very apt. You have me there on the hop. Dear me! I’ve made a great mistake, eh?”“Yes, sir,” I said hoarsely.“And you sat out there in the broiling sun, and the miserable savages pelted you as they did me?”“Yes, sir.”“Tut, tut, tut! and the heat was maddening. Terribly irritating, too; I felt excessively angry. I really—dear me, Mr Herrick, I’m afraid I spoke very unjustly to you, and—I—ought a captain to apologise to a midshipman?”“I really don’t know, sir,” I said, feeling quite mollified by his tone.“Well, I think I do,” he said, smiling. “Decidedly not. As Mr Reardon would say, it would be totally subversive of discipline. It couldn’t be done. But one gentleman can of course apologise to another, and I do so most heartily. My dear Mr Herrick, I beg your pardon for being so unjust.”“Pray don’t say any more about it, sir,” I cried.“Well, no, I will not. But all the same I am very sorry—as a gentleman—that I—as your superior officer—spoke to you as I did.”“Thank you, sir.”“And, dear me, my lad, you look terribly hot and exhausted. Let me prescribe, as Mr Price would say.”He quickly placed a lump of ice in a tumbler, and, after pouring in a little sherry, filled it up with soda-water.I grasped the glass, and drank with avidity the cool, refreshing draught to the last drop.“Humph! you were thirsty.”“I was choking, sir,” I said, with a sigh, as I placed the glass upon the table.“And now, Mr Herrick, perhaps it would be as well not to talk about this little interview,” he said quietly. “I rely upon you as a gentleman.”“Of course, sir,” I replied; and feeling, in spite of the severe wigging I had had, that I never liked the captain half so well before, I backed out and hurried to my own cabin.
“Mr Herrick! Come to my cabin,” said the captain as he stepped on deck, and I followed him.
“You stupid fellow,” whispered Mr Brooke as I passed him, “why didn’t you keep the boat by the wharf?”
I gave him a comical look, and followed the captain; but I was kept waiting for a few moments at the door while the servant was summoned, and when I did go in my officer was lying back in his chair, with ice on the table, and a great glass of what seemed to be soda-water and brandy before him, but which proved by the decanter to be sherry.
“Oh,” he cried angrily, “there you are, sir! Why didn’t you come at once, sir?”
“I did, sir; but was kept waiting till you were ready.”
“Well, sir, don’t answer in that pert way. It sounds like insolence. That will not do, Mr Herrick, if you wish to get on in your profession. Now, sir, your orders were to stop by the landing-place, with the boat in charge, ready for my return, were they not?”
“Yes, sir; but—”
“Silence, sir! How dare you interrupt me? I go up through the broiling heat to have an interview with that wretched, stolid, obstinate mandarin, with his confounded button and peacock-feather; and when I do get back, perfectly exhausted by the heat, half-dead, I find no boat.”
“No, sir; but—”
“Silence, sir! Will you let me speak? The consequence is that, because you choose to disobey orders, and take the men off to indulge in some of the disgusting drinks of this wretched country—”
“I beg pardon, sir,” I cried; “I—”
“Mr Herrick! am I to place you under arrest? Be silent, sir. I say, I return with my escort from an important diplomatic visit, arranged so as to impress the people, and when I return, almost fainting with the heat, there is no boat, because you have allowed the men to impose upon you; and you are away drinking with them, I suppose?”
“No, sir; I—”
“Mr Herrick!” he roared, “I will not bear it. I say there was no boat; and not only am I forced to submit to the indignity of waiting, and listening to the gibes of the low-class Chinese, and to see their scowls, but our delay there—through you, sir—results, I say results, in the miserable wretches taking advantage thereof, and, thinking me helpless, working themselves up to an attack. When at last you do come crawling up with those four men, they are purple-faced from drinking, every one threatened by apoplexy—why, your own face is crimson, sir; and I could smell the men when I stepped on board.”
“No, sir—the dirty harbour, sir,” I said. “Smells horrid.”
“You are under arrest, sir. Go! No; stop and hear me out first, sir. I say that, through your delay, I am kept there on that wretched wharf; and when I do push off, I have—I, Her Majesty’s representative, in the sight of these Chinese scoundrels—I have, I say, to suffer from the insult and contumely of being pelted, stoned, of having filth thrown at me. Look at my nearly new uniform coat, sir. Do you see this spot on the sleeve? A mark that will never come out. That was a blow, sir, made by a disgusting rotten fish’s head, sir. Loathsome—loathsome! While the insult to Her Majesty’s flag called upon me to fire upon the mob. Do you know what that means, sir?”
“Yes, sir; a good lesson. They won’t be so saucy again.”
“You ignorant young puppy!” he cried; “it may mean a serious international trouble—a diplomatic breach, and all through you. There, I was hot and bad enough before, now you have made me worse.”
He stretched out his hand for the glass, but did not drink; and the sight of the cool liquid half-maddened me, for the heat and emotion had made my throat very dry.
“Now, sir,” he cried, “I am your commanding officer, and no one on board Her Majesty’s cruiser shall ever say that I am not just. Now then, speak out; what have you to say? How came you to let the men go away to drink?”
“I didn’t, sir,” I said huskily. “They wanted to go, for they were choking nearly, but I wouldn’t let them.”
“What? Don’t seek refuge in a lie, boy. That’s making your fault ten times worse. Didn’t I see you returning to the wharf?”
“Yes, sir,” I cried indignantly; “but the men had not been to drink.”
“Then how dared you disobey my orders, and go away?” he roared, furious at being proved wrong.
“I went, sir, because it was my duty.”
“What!”
“We stayed till the stone-throwing grew dangerous for us, and then I had the boat rowed out and anchored.”
“Oh!”
“But I kept watch till you came in sight, sir; and we were as quick as we could be.”
“The mob pelted you too, Mr Herrick?”
“Yes, sir,” I said; “and we couldn’t fire over their heads, nor yet row right away.”
He looked at me angrily, and then his countenance changed.
“Pert, Mr Herrick,” he said, “but very apt. You have me there on the hop. Dear me! I’ve made a great mistake, eh?”
“Yes, sir,” I said hoarsely.
“And you sat out there in the broiling sun, and the miserable savages pelted you as they did me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tut, tut, tut! and the heat was maddening. Terribly irritating, too; I felt excessively angry. I really—dear me, Mr Herrick, I’m afraid I spoke very unjustly to you, and—I—ought a captain to apologise to a midshipman?”
“I really don’t know, sir,” I said, feeling quite mollified by his tone.
“Well, I think I do,” he said, smiling. “Decidedly not. As Mr Reardon would say, it would be totally subversive of discipline. It couldn’t be done. But one gentleman can of course apologise to another, and I do so most heartily. My dear Mr Herrick, I beg your pardon for being so unjust.”
“Pray don’t say any more about it, sir,” I cried.
“Well, no, I will not. But all the same I am very sorry—as a gentleman—that I—as your superior officer—spoke to you as I did.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“And, dear me, my lad, you look terribly hot and exhausted. Let me prescribe, as Mr Price would say.”
He quickly placed a lump of ice in a tumbler, and, after pouring in a little sherry, filled it up with soda-water.
I grasped the glass, and drank with avidity the cool, refreshing draught to the last drop.
“Humph! you were thirsty.”
“I was choking, sir,” I said, with a sigh, as I placed the glass upon the table.
“And now, Mr Herrick, perhaps it would be as well not to talk about this little interview,” he said quietly. “I rely upon you as a gentleman.”
“Of course, sir,” I replied; and feeling, in spite of the severe wigging I had had, that I never liked the captain half so well before, I backed out and hurried to my own cabin.