Chapter Twenty Four.A Surprise.I don’t think the Chinese authorities were very grateful to us of theTeaser,—there, you see, I sayus, for I did do something to help in routing out and destroying two nests of pirates; but the merchants, both Chinese and English, fêted us most gloriously, and if it had not been for Mr Reardon we three middies might have always been ashore at dinners and dances.“But,” cried Barkins, “so sure as one gets an invitation he puts his foot down.”“Yes,” said Smith; “and it is such a foot.”“But it’s such a pity,” grumbled Barkins; “for Tsin-Tsin is after all rather a jolly place. Mr Brooke says the ball at the consul’s last night was glorious, no end of Chinese swells there, and the music and dancing was fine.”“Don’t be so jolly envious, Tanner,” sneered Smith. “You couldn’t have danced if you had gone.”“Dance better than you could,” cried Barkins hotly.“No, you couldn’t. Fancy asking a young lady to waltz, and then going dot-and-go-one round the room with your game leg.”“You’ve a deal to talk about, Smithy; why, if you asked a lady to dance you couldn’t lift your right arm to put round her waist.”“Couldn’t I?” cried Smith. “Look here.”He swung his arm round me, took three steps, and dropped on to the locker, turning quite white with pain.“Told you so,” cried Barkins, springing up. “Waltz? I should just think!—oh, murder!”He sat down suddenly to hold his leg tightly with both hands, giving Smith a dismal look.“Oh dear!” he groaned; “what a long time it does take a wound to get well in this plaguey country. I know that knife was poisoned.”“Nonsense!” I cried, unable to restrain my mirth. “Why, you are both getting on famously.”“But Dishy might have let us go to the ball last night.”“Play fair,” I said; “we’ve been out to seven entertainments.”“Well, what of that? They’ve been to a dozen. It’s all old Dishy’s way of showing his authority. I’m sure we all work hard when we’re on duty, and run risks enough.”“Go on, you old grumbler. Aren’t we to go up the river shooting on Thursday with Mr Brooke and the doctor?”“Yes, that’s right enough; but we shall be off again soon on another cruise, and get no more fun for long enough.”“I say, let’s ask for a run ashore to-day.”“And get chivvied by the pigtails, same as we did down at that other place.”“Oh, but perhaps they’ll be more civil here,” I said.Smith burst out laughing.“Why, didn’t they pelt you, and shy mud at the skipper?”“Oh, if you’re afraid, you can stop,” I said. “Tanner and I can go.”“Afraid!” cried Smith, doubling his fist and holding it within an inch of my nose. “Say afraid again, you miserable insect, and I’ll flatten you.”“Couldn’t with that hand,” I said, and I caught his wrist.“Oh, don’t! Murder!” he roared. “I say, you shouldn’t. It’s like touching one’s arm with red-hot iron.”“Then be civil,” I said.“Ah, only wait. I say, Tanner, our day’s coming. As soon as we’re both quite strong he has got to pay for all this, hasn’t he?”“Oh, bother! I say, the skipper and Dishy are both going ashore to-day with an escort of Jacks and marines.”“Are they?” I said eagerly.“Yes; there’s some game or another on. Let’s ask leave, and take old Ching with us.”“Want to try puppy-pie again?” said Smith, grinning.“I want to do something for a change. I know! I’ll go and see the doctor, and tell him we want a walk in the country to collect flowers, and ask him if he’ll name them.”“Well, he can’t give us leave.”“No; but he’ll ask Dishy to let us off.”“Bravo!” cried Smith. “Off you go. I say, though, we must have old Ching too. You see if he don’t come out in his new gown!”“What new gown?” I said.“Hallo! didn’t you know? He went ashore yesterday and bought himself a new blue coat. Not a cotton one, but silk, real silk, my boy, and beckoned me to come and see it,—beckoned with one of his long claws. He’s letting his fingernails grow now, and getting to be quite a swell.”“Oh yes; old Ching’s getting quite the gentleman. He says he wrote home to his broker to sell the fancee shop. What do you think he said, Gnat?”“How should I know?” I replied.“That it wasn’t proper for a gentleman in Queen Victolia’s service to keep a fancee shop.”“Murder! Look at that!” cried Smith. “Why, you yellow-skinned old Celestial, you were listening!”Barkins and I picked up each something to throw at the round, smooth, smiling face thrust in at the door, which was held close to the neck, so that we saw a head and nothing more.“No flow thing at Ching,” the Chinaman said softly. “Offlicer don’t flow thing. Ching come in?”“Yes,” said Barkins, “come in. What is it?”Ching entered looking very important, and gave his head a shake to make his tail fall neatly between his shoulders, and drew the long blue sleeves of his gown over the backs of his hands till only the tips of his fingers, with their very long nails, were visible.He advanced smiling at us each in turn, and bowing his round head like a china mandarin.“You all velly good boy?” he said softly.“Oh yes; beauties,” said Barkins. “What’s up?”“You likee ask leave go for bit walkee walkee?”“Don’t!” roared Smith. “Don’t talk like a nurse to us. Why don’t you speak plain English?”“Yes; Ching speak ploper Inglis. No speakee pigeon Englis. All ploper. Interpleter. You likee go shore for walkee, see something?”“You beggar, you were listening,” cried Barkins. “How long had you been there?”“Ching just come ask young genelman likee walkee walkee.”“Yes, allee likee walkee walkee velly much,” said Barkins, imitating the Chinaman’s squeak. “Why? Can you give us leave?”Ching shook his head.“Go ask offlicer. Go for walkee walkee, take Ching; you likee see something velly nice ploper?”“Yes,” I cried eagerly. “Can you take us to see a Chinese theatre?”Ching closed his eyes and nodded.“You come ’long o’ Ching, I showee something velly nice ploper.”“All right,” I cried. “Now, Tanner, go and try it on with the doctor.”“No, no. Ask offlicer. Doctor only give flizzick. Velly nastee. Ugh!”Ching’s round face was a study as he screwed it up to show his disgust with the doctor’s preparations.Barkins went off and returned directly.“Well,” we cried; “seen Price?” and Ching, who was squatted on the floor, looked up smiling.“No.”“Not seen him?”“No; I ran against Dishy, and thought I’d ask him plump.”“And you did?”“Yes.”“What did he say?”“I know,” cried Smith; “that we were always going out.”“That’s it exactly.”“And he won’t let us go?” I said in a disappointed tone.“Who says so?” cried Barkins, changing his manner. “The old chap was in splendid fettle, and he smiled,—now, now, don’t both of you be so jolly full of doubts. On my honour as an officer and a gentleman, he smiled and clapped me on the shoulder.”“Yes, my lad, of course,” he said. “We shall be off again soon, and then it will be all work and no play again, and we mustn’t make Jack a dull boy, must we?”“He’s going off his head,” said Smith.“Let him go, then,” I cried, “if it makes him like this.”“Don’t chatter so, Gnat,” cried Smith. “I say, did he really say we might go?”“Yes; and that we ought to start at once before the day grew hotter, and that we were to take great care of ourselves.”“Hurra!”“And be sure and wash our faces and our hands before we started,” added Barkins.“Get out; I can see where it joins,” I cried. “But did he say any more?”“Only that we were to mind and not get into any trouble with the people, and that we had better take Ching.”“Yes,” said that individual gravely. “Much better take Ching. Velly useful take care.”“To be sure,” I cried, full of excitement at the idea of a run through the mazes of the quaint town, and the prospect of seeing a Chinese performance. “I say, Ching,” I cried, striking an attitude, “take us where you can give us a tune, ‘Ti—ope—I—ow.’”“Yes; velly nicee music,” he said, nodding and smiling. “Ching takee see something velly good. You leady?”“In five minutes,” cried Barkins. “Gnat, go and tell them to have the boat ready. Mr Reardon said we were to be rowed ashore.”“Ching leady in five minutes,” said the interpreter, running towards the door.“Eh? Why, you are ready,” said Smith.“No. Go put on new blue silk flock. Leady dilectly.”Ten minutes later we were being rowed ashore, to be landed at the wharf where we met with so unpleasant an attack a short time before. But there was no mob of idlers there now, and we stepped ashore, leaving the good-natured-looking crew smiling at us, and giving the shops many a longing look, as they pushed off and began to row back at once.“Plenty time,” said Ching. “You likee fust go lestaulant—eatee, dlinkee, spend plize-money?”“Can’t spend what we haven’t yet got, Ching,” said Barkins. “What do you say, lads? I’m hungry again, aren’t you?”Smith sighed.“I’m always hungry,” he said.“Of course you are. I believe he’s hollow all through, Gnat. How do you feel?”“As if I haven’t had any breakfast,” I said earnestly.Ching smiled.“Velly much nicee bleakfast all along o’ Ching.”He led the way in and out among the narrow streets, apparently again as much at home as in his own city; and it was hard work to keep from stopping to gaze at the hundreds of objects which attracted and set me longing to make purchases to take home for curiosities. But Ching bustled us along.“No time now. Come along get good bleakfast. Wantee good bleakfast before go to see gland show.”“Here, what is it you are going to take us to see, Ching?” cried Barkins—“all right; I wasn’t talking to you,” he added, as a couple of Chinamen turned round to gaze at the young outer barbarian.“You waitee,” cried Ching, smiling; “all velly ploper gland. You likee see the show.”“Oh, all right. Where’s the restaurant?”“Nex’ stleet,” said Ching; and after a few minutes he turned into a showy-looking eating-house, where his blue silk gown and long nails seemed to command the most profound respect from the attendants; and where, after laying down the law very stringently to Ching, that we were to have neither dog, cat, nor rat, we resigned ourselves to our fate, and ate birds’-nest soup, shark-fin, and a variety of what Barkins called messes, with midshipmen appetites.Ching smiled, and seemed to be very proud of our performance.“You all eat dlink velly much,” he said, as we gave up, defeated. “You all velly quite full?” he said, rubbing his hands carefully, so as not to injure his long nails.“Yes, full up, and the hatches battened down,” cried Barkins. “Now then, ask for the bill. How much apiece?”Ching smiled and nodded his head.“You come have bleakfast ’long o’ Ching. Ching velly glad to see you; Ching pay.”“What? nonsense!” cried Smith, while we others stared.“Yes; Ching plenty money. Captain gave Ching plenty plize-money; make him velly happy to see young offlicer to bleakfast.”“Oh, but we can’t let him pay for us, Smithy,” cried Barkins.“No, of course not,” we chorussed.“Ching velly much hurt you want to pay,” he said, with dignity.“But—” I cried.“You ask Ching bleakfast like Chinese genelman another time, make Ching velly glad. Come along, makee haste, see gland show.”“But the bill isn’t paid,” I cried.“Ching pay long time ’go,” he said, rising; and there was nothing for it but to follow him out and along three or four streets to where there was a dense crowd in front of a gateway in a high mud wall.There were some soldiers there too, and Ching walked up full of importance, showed them some kind of paper, when one, who appeared to be their officer, spoke to those under him, and they cleared a way for us to pass to the gate.Here Ching knocked loudly, and the gate was opened by another soldier; the paper was shown; and an important-looking official came up, looked at us, and made way for us to enter.“It’s all right,” said Smith. “Ching knows the manager. It will be a private box.”The official pointed to our left, and Ching led the way behind a kind of barricade where there were seats erected, and, selecting a place, he smilingly made us sit down.“Ching know gleat mandalin,” he said. “Askee let come see gland show.”“But what’s it going to be?” I asked, as I looked curiously round the square enclosure surrounded by a high wall, and with seats and pens on three sides. “I thought we were coming to a theatre!”“No,” said Ching, smiling. “Velly gland show; wait.”We waited, and saw that the space in front of us was neatly sanded, that posts stood up here and there. In other places there were cross bars, and in two there were ropes hanging.“I know!” cried Barkins; “he needn’t make such a jolly mystery of it. It’s Chinese athletic sports. Look, there’s the band coming.”He pointed to a military-looking party marching in with drums, gongs, and divers other instruments; and almost at the same time quite a crowd of well-dressed people entered, and began to take the different places reserved behind the barriers.Then a body of soldiers, with clumsy spears and shields, marched in and formed up opposite the band, the place filling up till only the best places, which were exactly opposite to us, remained empty.“You’re right, Tanner,” said Smith just then; “but they’re military athletic sports. I say, here come the grandees.”For in procession about twenty gorgeously-arrayed officials came marching in, and the next moment I gave Barkins a dig in the ribs.“Look,” I said.“All right; I see. Well, we needn’t mind. But I say, what a game if we hadn’t got leave!”“I say,” whispered Smith, “look over there. The skipper and old Dishy! This was where they were coming, then; they’ll see us directly.”“Let ’em,” said Barkins, as the party settled themselves. “Now then, we’re all here. All in to begin. We ought to have a programme. Here, Ching, what’s the first thing they do?”“Ching no quite sure; p’laps lichi.”“Lichi?” I said.“You don’t know? You see velly gland—velly ploper for bad, bad man.”He turned away to speak to a Chinese officer close at hand, while we began to feel wondering and suspicious, and gazed at each other with the same question on our lips.Ching turned to us again, and I being nearest whispered—“I say, what place is this? What are they going to do?”“Bring out allee wicked men. Choppee off head.”
I don’t think the Chinese authorities were very grateful to us of theTeaser,—there, you see, I sayus, for I did do something to help in routing out and destroying two nests of pirates; but the merchants, both Chinese and English, fêted us most gloriously, and if it had not been for Mr Reardon we three middies might have always been ashore at dinners and dances.
“But,” cried Barkins, “so sure as one gets an invitation he puts his foot down.”
“Yes,” said Smith; “and it is such a foot.”
“But it’s such a pity,” grumbled Barkins; “for Tsin-Tsin is after all rather a jolly place. Mr Brooke says the ball at the consul’s last night was glorious, no end of Chinese swells there, and the music and dancing was fine.”
“Don’t be so jolly envious, Tanner,” sneered Smith. “You couldn’t have danced if you had gone.”
“Dance better than you could,” cried Barkins hotly.
“No, you couldn’t. Fancy asking a young lady to waltz, and then going dot-and-go-one round the room with your game leg.”
“You’ve a deal to talk about, Smithy; why, if you asked a lady to dance you couldn’t lift your right arm to put round her waist.”
“Couldn’t I?” cried Smith. “Look here.”
He swung his arm round me, took three steps, and dropped on to the locker, turning quite white with pain.
“Told you so,” cried Barkins, springing up. “Waltz? I should just think!—oh, murder!”
He sat down suddenly to hold his leg tightly with both hands, giving Smith a dismal look.
“Oh dear!” he groaned; “what a long time it does take a wound to get well in this plaguey country. I know that knife was poisoned.”
“Nonsense!” I cried, unable to restrain my mirth. “Why, you are both getting on famously.”
“But Dishy might have let us go to the ball last night.”
“Play fair,” I said; “we’ve been out to seven entertainments.”
“Well, what of that? They’ve been to a dozen. It’s all old Dishy’s way of showing his authority. I’m sure we all work hard when we’re on duty, and run risks enough.”
“Go on, you old grumbler. Aren’t we to go up the river shooting on Thursday with Mr Brooke and the doctor?”
“Yes, that’s right enough; but we shall be off again soon on another cruise, and get no more fun for long enough.”
“I say, let’s ask for a run ashore to-day.”
“And get chivvied by the pigtails, same as we did down at that other place.”
“Oh, but perhaps they’ll be more civil here,” I said.
Smith burst out laughing.
“Why, didn’t they pelt you, and shy mud at the skipper?”
“Oh, if you’re afraid, you can stop,” I said. “Tanner and I can go.”
“Afraid!” cried Smith, doubling his fist and holding it within an inch of my nose. “Say afraid again, you miserable insect, and I’ll flatten you.”
“Couldn’t with that hand,” I said, and I caught his wrist.
“Oh, don’t! Murder!” he roared. “I say, you shouldn’t. It’s like touching one’s arm with red-hot iron.”
“Then be civil,” I said.
“Ah, only wait. I say, Tanner, our day’s coming. As soon as we’re both quite strong he has got to pay for all this, hasn’t he?”
“Oh, bother! I say, the skipper and Dishy are both going ashore to-day with an escort of Jacks and marines.”
“Are they?” I said eagerly.
“Yes; there’s some game or another on. Let’s ask leave, and take old Ching with us.”
“Want to try puppy-pie again?” said Smith, grinning.
“I want to do something for a change. I know! I’ll go and see the doctor, and tell him we want a walk in the country to collect flowers, and ask him if he’ll name them.”
“Well, he can’t give us leave.”
“No; but he’ll ask Dishy to let us off.”
“Bravo!” cried Smith. “Off you go. I say, though, we must have old Ching too. You see if he don’t come out in his new gown!”
“What new gown?” I said.
“Hallo! didn’t you know? He went ashore yesterday and bought himself a new blue coat. Not a cotton one, but silk, real silk, my boy, and beckoned me to come and see it,—beckoned with one of his long claws. He’s letting his fingernails grow now, and getting to be quite a swell.”
“Oh yes; old Ching’s getting quite the gentleman. He says he wrote home to his broker to sell the fancee shop. What do you think he said, Gnat?”
“How should I know?” I replied.
“That it wasn’t proper for a gentleman in Queen Victolia’s service to keep a fancee shop.”
“Murder! Look at that!” cried Smith. “Why, you yellow-skinned old Celestial, you were listening!”
Barkins and I picked up each something to throw at the round, smooth, smiling face thrust in at the door, which was held close to the neck, so that we saw a head and nothing more.
“No flow thing at Ching,” the Chinaman said softly. “Offlicer don’t flow thing. Ching come in?”
“Yes,” said Barkins, “come in. What is it?”
Ching entered looking very important, and gave his head a shake to make his tail fall neatly between his shoulders, and drew the long blue sleeves of his gown over the backs of his hands till only the tips of his fingers, with their very long nails, were visible.
He advanced smiling at us each in turn, and bowing his round head like a china mandarin.
“You all velly good boy?” he said softly.
“Oh yes; beauties,” said Barkins. “What’s up?”
“You likee ask leave go for bit walkee walkee?”
“Don’t!” roared Smith. “Don’t talk like a nurse to us. Why don’t you speak plain English?”
“Yes; Ching speak ploper Inglis. No speakee pigeon Englis. All ploper. Interpleter. You likee go shore for walkee, see something?”
“You beggar, you were listening,” cried Barkins. “How long had you been there?”
“Ching just come ask young genelman likee walkee walkee.”
“Yes, allee likee walkee walkee velly much,” said Barkins, imitating the Chinaman’s squeak. “Why? Can you give us leave?”
Ching shook his head.
“Go ask offlicer. Go for walkee walkee, take Ching; you likee see something velly nice ploper?”
“Yes,” I cried eagerly. “Can you take us to see a Chinese theatre?”
Ching closed his eyes and nodded.
“You come ’long o’ Ching, I showee something velly nice ploper.”
“All right,” I cried. “Now, Tanner, go and try it on with the doctor.”
“No, no. Ask offlicer. Doctor only give flizzick. Velly nastee. Ugh!”
Ching’s round face was a study as he screwed it up to show his disgust with the doctor’s preparations.
Barkins went off and returned directly.
“Well,” we cried; “seen Price?” and Ching, who was squatted on the floor, looked up smiling.
“No.”
“Not seen him?”
“No; I ran against Dishy, and thought I’d ask him plump.”
“And you did?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“I know,” cried Smith; “that we were always going out.”
“That’s it exactly.”
“And he won’t let us go?” I said in a disappointed tone.
“Who says so?” cried Barkins, changing his manner. “The old chap was in splendid fettle, and he smiled,—now, now, don’t both of you be so jolly full of doubts. On my honour as an officer and a gentleman, he smiled and clapped me on the shoulder.”
“Yes, my lad, of course,” he said. “We shall be off again soon, and then it will be all work and no play again, and we mustn’t make Jack a dull boy, must we?”
“He’s going off his head,” said Smith.
“Let him go, then,” I cried, “if it makes him like this.”
“Don’t chatter so, Gnat,” cried Smith. “I say, did he really say we might go?”
“Yes; and that we ought to start at once before the day grew hotter, and that we were to take great care of ourselves.”
“Hurra!”
“And be sure and wash our faces and our hands before we started,” added Barkins.
“Get out; I can see where it joins,” I cried. “But did he say any more?”
“Only that we were to mind and not get into any trouble with the people, and that we had better take Ching.”
“Yes,” said that individual gravely. “Much better take Ching. Velly useful take care.”
“To be sure,” I cried, full of excitement at the idea of a run through the mazes of the quaint town, and the prospect of seeing a Chinese performance. “I say, Ching,” I cried, striking an attitude, “take us where you can give us a tune, ‘Ti—ope—I—ow.’”
“Yes; velly nicee music,” he said, nodding and smiling. “Ching takee see something velly good. You leady?”
“In five minutes,” cried Barkins. “Gnat, go and tell them to have the boat ready. Mr Reardon said we were to be rowed ashore.”
“Ching leady in five minutes,” said the interpreter, running towards the door.
“Eh? Why, you are ready,” said Smith.
“No. Go put on new blue silk flock. Leady dilectly.”
Ten minutes later we were being rowed ashore, to be landed at the wharf where we met with so unpleasant an attack a short time before. But there was no mob of idlers there now, and we stepped ashore, leaving the good-natured-looking crew smiling at us, and giving the shops many a longing look, as they pushed off and began to row back at once.
“Plenty time,” said Ching. “You likee fust go lestaulant—eatee, dlinkee, spend plize-money?”
“Can’t spend what we haven’t yet got, Ching,” said Barkins. “What do you say, lads? I’m hungry again, aren’t you?”
Smith sighed.
“I’m always hungry,” he said.
“Of course you are. I believe he’s hollow all through, Gnat. How do you feel?”
“As if I haven’t had any breakfast,” I said earnestly.
Ching smiled.
“Velly much nicee bleakfast all along o’ Ching.”
He led the way in and out among the narrow streets, apparently again as much at home as in his own city; and it was hard work to keep from stopping to gaze at the hundreds of objects which attracted and set me longing to make purchases to take home for curiosities. But Ching bustled us along.
“No time now. Come along get good bleakfast. Wantee good bleakfast before go to see gland show.”
“Here, what is it you are going to take us to see, Ching?” cried Barkins—“all right; I wasn’t talking to you,” he added, as a couple of Chinamen turned round to gaze at the young outer barbarian.
“You waitee,” cried Ching, smiling; “all velly ploper gland. You likee see the show.”
“Oh, all right. Where’s the restaurant?”
“Nex’ stleet,” said Ching; and after a few minutes he turned into a showy-looking eating-house, where his blue silk gown and long nails seemed to command the most profound respect from the attendants; and where, after laying down the law very stringently to Ching, that we were to have neither dog, cat, nor rat, we resigned ourselves to our fate, and ate birds’-nest soup, shark-fin, and a variety of what Barkins called messes, with midshipmen appetites.
Ching smiled, and seemed to be very proud of our performance.
“You all eat dlink velly much,” he said, as we gave up, defeated. “You all velly quite full?” he said, rubbing his hands carefully, so as not to injure his long nails.
“Yes, full up, and the hatches battened down,” cried Barkins. “Now then, ask for the bill. How much apiece?”
Ching smiled and nodded his head.
“You come have bleakfast ’long o’ Ching. Ching velly glad to see you; Ching pay.”
“What? nonsense!” cried Smith, while we others stared.
“Yes; Ching plenty money. Captain gave Ching plenty plize-money; make him velly happy to see young offlicer to bleakfast.”
“Oh, but we can’t let him pay for us, Smithy,” cried Barkins.
“No, of course not,” we chorussed.
“Ching velly much hurt you want to pay,” he said, with dignity.
“But—” I cried.
“You ask Ching bleakfast like Chinese genelman another time, make Ching velly glad. Come along, makee haste, see gland show.”
“But the bill isn’t paid,” I cried.
“Ching pay long time ’go,” he said, rising; and there was nothing for it but to follow him out and along three or four streets to where there was a dense crowd in front of a gateway in a high mud wall.
There were some soldiers there too, and Ching walked up full of importance, showed them some kind of paper, when one, who appeared to be their officer, spoke to those under him, and they cleared a way for us to pass to the gate.
Here Ching knocked loudly, and the gate was opened by another soldier; the paper was shown; and an important-looking official came up, looked at us, and made way for us to enter.
“It’s all right,” said Smith. “Ching knows the manager. It will be a private box.”
The official pointed to our left, and Ching led the way behind a kind of barricade where there were seats erected, and, selecting a place, he smilingly made us sit down.
“Ching know gleat mandalin,” he said. “Askee let come see gland show.”
“But what’s it going to be?” I asked, as I looked curiously round the square enclosure surrounded by a high wall, and with seats and pens on three sides. “I thought we were coming to a theatre!”
“No,” said Ching, smiling. “Velly gland show; wait.”
We waited, and saw that the space in front of us was neatly sanded, that posts stood up here and there. In other places there were cross bars, and in two there were ropes hanging.
“I know!” cried Barkins; “he needn’t make such a jolly mystery of it. It’s Chinese athletic sports. Look, there’s the band coming.”
He pointed to a military-looking party marching in with drums, gongs, and divers other instruments; and almost at the same time quite a crowd of well-dressed people entered, and began to take the different places reserved behind the barriers.
Then a body of soldiers, with clumsy spears and shields, marched in and formed up opposite the band, the place filling up till only the best places, which were exactly opposite to us, remained empty.
“You’re right, Tanner,” said Smith just then; “but they’re military athletic sports. I say, here come the grandees.”
For in procession about twenty gorgeously-arrayed officials came marching in, and the next moment I gave Barkins a dig in the ribs.
“Look,” I said.
“All right; I see. Well, we needn’t mind. But I say, what a game if we hadn’t got leave!”
“I say,” whispered Smith, “look over there. The skipper and old Dishy! This was where they were coming, then; they’ll see us directly.”
“Let ’em,” said Barkins, as the party settled themselves. “Now then, we’re all here. All in to begin. We ought to have a programme. Here, Ching, what’s the first thing they do?”
“Ching no quite sure; p’laps lichi.”
“Lichi?” I said.
“You don’t know? You see velly gland—velly ploper for bad, bad man.”
He turned away to speak to a Chinese officer close at hand, while we began to feel wondering and suspicious, and gazed at each other with the same question on our lips.
Ching turned to us again, and I being nearest whispered—
“I say, what place is this? What are they going to do?”
“Bring out allee wicked men. Choppee off head.”
Chapter Twenty Five.The Entertainment.I felt as it were a sudden jar run through me when I heard Ching’s words. It was as if I had been awakened by a sudden revelation. This, then, was the grand show he had contrived for us as a treat! It was all clear enough: our officers had been invited to the execution of the pirates we had taken, and conceiving, with all a Chinaman’s indifference to death, that we three lads, who had been present at their capture, would consider it as a great treat to be witnesses of the punishment awarded by the Government, Ching had contrived to get permission for us to be present.I glanced at the Tanner, who had grasped the situation, and was screwing his face up so as to look perfectly unconcerned; but it was a dismal failure, for I could see a peculiar twitching going on at the corners of his eyes, and he passed his tongue rapidly over his lips and went through the action of swallowing as if his mouth and throat were dry.I next looked at Smithy, whose eyes showed more white than usual, and whose complexion was of a sickly-green, just as I had seen it during some very rough weather we had going down the Channel on first starting for this voyage.How I looked I have only Barkins’ word for, and he told me afterwards that I seemed as if I was waiting for my turn to suffer with the pirates.After the sharp glance I gave at my fellows neither of us stirred, but sat there as if petrified. I was horror-stricken, and there was a strong impulse upon me to jump up and run out, but shame and the dread of being considered cowardly kept me in my place. In fact, as after-confessions made clear, we were absolutely stunned, and I don’t think we could have stirred had we made up our minds to go.Then I felt dizzy, and the brilliant group of officials and military magnates and judges opposite to where we sat grew blurred and strange-looking in the bright sunshine.At last I felt as if I must argue out the question, and with my teeth set firm, and my eyes fixed upon the sandy ground of the enclosure, some such thoughts as these ran through my brain— “It is only just that these men should suffer for their horrible crimes, for they are more dangerous than venomous serpents, and I suppose that Captain Thwaites and Lieutenant Reardon are obliged to come as a kind of duty; but we three came under the idea that we were to see some kind of exhibition, and old Ching did it out of kindness, not knowing of what kind of stuff we were made. I shan’t stop.”There I paused to fight with other ideas.“Tanner and Blacksmith will laugh at me and think I am a coward. Well, let them,” I said to myself at last. “It isn’t cowardice not to wish to see such a horror as this. I didn’t feel cowardly when they were shooting at us down in the creek, and it would be far more cowardly to sit here against my will without speaking. I will tell them I want to go.”I should think that every lad of the age I then was, will pretty well understand my feelings, and what a bitter thing it was to turn and confess what they would jeer at and call “funk.” It was hard work indeed.“I don’t care,” I muttered. “I know they’ll protest and say they don’t want to come, but be very glad to come away all the time. I will speak.”Just then that horrible Chinaman turned to me with his round fat face, all smiling and delighted.“You velly glad you come?” he said. “You feel velly happy?”My mind was made up at this, and I spoke out.“No,” I said in a husky whisper. “I didn’t know we had come to see this. I shall go.”“What?” said Barkins, with a forced laugh. “Look here, Blacksmith, he’s showing the white feather.”“Ho! ho!” laughed Smith. “Come, Gnat, I thought you had a little more spirit in you. Serve the beggars right.”“Yes, I know that,” I said firmly enough now, as I looked at their faces, which, in spite of the masks they had assumed, looked ghastly; “and I daresay I haven’t pluck enough to sit it out. But I don’t care for your grins; I’m not ashamed to say that I shall go.”“Oh, well, if you feel that it would upset you,” said Barkins, in a tone of voice full of protest, “I suppose that we had better see you off, and go somewhere else.”“Poof!” ejaculated Smith in a low tone. “Look at him, Gnat; he’s in just as much of a stew as you are. Well, it’s too bad of you both, but if you must go, why, I suppose we must.”“You beggar!” snarled Barkins angrily. “Why, you’re worse than I am. Look at him, Gnat! There, I will own it. I felt sick as soon as I knew what was going to happen, but I won’t be such a bumptious, bragging sneak as he is. Look at his face. It’s green and yellow. He wants to go worse than we do.”Smith did not seem to be listening, for his starting eyes were fixed upon the far right-hand gate, over which there was a kind of pagoda, and he rose from his seat.“Come on at once,” he whispered, “they’re going to begin.”“Confessed!” whispered Barkins, pinching my knee. “Come on then quick, Gnat, old man; it’s too horrid.”We all rose together, and were in the act of turning when a low hoarse murmur rose from behind, and we saw that a crowd of angry faces were gazing at us, and that they were nearly all armed men.But before we had recovered from our surprise, Ching had caught my arm and pressed me to my seat.“No go now,” he whispered, with a look of alarm in his face, and he leaned over me and dragged my companions down in turn. “No can go now. Allee gate fasten. Makee blave velly angly and dlaw sword; fightee fightee. Ching velly solly. Must stop now.”There was a low hissing noise all about us, and threatening looks, while a fierce man in embroidered silk said something in his own tongue to Ching, who answered humbly, and then tamed to us and whispered—“Small-button mandalin say make big-button peacock-feather mandalin velly angly. You no sit still. Sh! sh!”“We must sit it out, boys,” I said, with a shudder; “but we need not look.”My words were quite correct to a certain extent, but as my companions, who now looked more ghastly than ever, sank back in their seats, I felt compelled to gaze across to where I could now see a red table exactly facing me. Then a movement to the right caught my attention, and through the far gateway, and lowering it a little as he passed under the archway, rode an officer with a yellow silk banner, upon which were large black Chinese characters. Behind him came some more showily-dressed officials; and then, in a kind of sedan chair, one whom I at once saw to be the chief mandarin, for whom we had been waiting.He was carried across to the front, where he alighted and walked slowly across to the red table, followed by sword, spear, and matchlock men, who, as he took his place at the table, ranged themselves on either side facing us, and completing a spectacle that, seen there in the bright light, strongly suggested the opening of some grand pantomime.I remember thinking this, and then shuddering at the horrible thought, and at the same time I began wondering at the intense interest I could not help taking in what was going on.Two more grandees in chairs of state followed, and then there was a pause. I could see that our officers were politely saluted, and that care was taken that no one should be in front of them. And now came the more exciting part of the terrible exhibition.Suddenly there was the loud booming of a gong, and the head of an escort of spearmen marched through the gateway, followed by a group of men in twos, each pair bearing a long bamboo pole, from which, hanging in each case like a scale, was a large basket, and heavily chained in each basket was a man, whom we knew at once to be one of the pirates we had captured, without Ching whispering to us—“Velly bad men, killee evelybody. They killee now.”My eyes would not close. They were fascinated by the horrible procession; and I now saw, just in front of the bearers, a tall-looking bare-headed man carrying a large bright sword, curved in the fashion we see in old pictures of the Turkish scimitar, a blade which increases in width from the hilt nearly to the end, where it is suddenly cut off diagonally to form a sharp point.Behind this man marched five more, the procession moving right to the front between us and the brilliant party whose centre was the principal mandarin.I now saw, too, that every one of the miserable culprits was ticketed or labelled, a bamboo upon which a piece of paper was stuck being attached to his neck and head.A low murmur ran round among the spectators, as, at a signal from the man with the great sword, who I saw now must be the executioner, the bearers stopped, and with a jerk threw the poles off their shoulders into their hands, bumped the baskets heavily down upon the ground, and shot the malefactors out as unceremoniously as if they had been so much earth.I heard Barkins draw a deep breath, and saw Smith leaning forward and gazing wildly at the scene, while I felt my heart gothrob throbheavily, and found myself wishing that I had not shared in the capture of the wretched men.The chief mandarin then turned to the officer on horseback, who carried the imperial yellow flag, said a few words in a low tone, and he in turn pushed his horse a little forward to where the executioner was waiting, and evidently conveyed the mandarin’s orders.Then suddenly the pirates, as if moved by one consent, struggled to their feet and began shouting.Ching placed his lips close to my ear—“Say, please no choppee off head. Velly bad men, killee lot always; velly bad.”And now I felt that the time had come to close my eyes, but they remained fixed. I could not avert my gaze from a scene which was made more horrible by a struggle which took place between the first pirate of the long row in which they stood and the executioner.The man shouted out some words angrily, and Ching interpreted them in my ear, his explanation being in company with a strange surging noise—“Say he come back and killee him if he choppee off head. Oh, he velly bad man.”But quickly, as if quite accustomed to the task, two of the executioner’s assistants rushed at the pirate; one of them forced him down into a kneeling position; they then seized his long tail, drew it over his head and hung back, thus holding the pirate’s neck outstretched; lastly, I saw the executioner draw back, the sword flashed, I heard a dull thud—the head fell, and the body rolled over on one side.Before I could drag my eyes from the horror there was the same terrible sound again, and another head fell upon the ground, while, with a rapidity that was astounding, the assistants passed from one culprit to the other in the long row, the miserable wretches making not the slightest resistance, but kneeling patiently in the position in which they were thrust, whilewhish, whish, whish, the executioner lopped off their heads at one blow.“Allee done,” said Ching. “Execution man have velly much plactice.”He said this to me, but I made no reply, for the whole place seemed to be going round and round.“You thinkee they all come back again and have junk? Go kill shoot evelybody, pilate ghost-man?”“No,” I said hoarsely; “can we go now?”“Velly soon. Gleat clowd all along gate. Lookee, Mis’ Tanner go s’eep.”These words roused me, and I turned to Barkins, who was lying back with his eyes nearly closed and looking ghastly, while Smith sat staring straight before him, with his hands grasping the seat on either side, in a stiff, awkward position.“Here, Smithy,” I said, “quick, Tanner has fainted;” but he took no notice, and I whispered to him angrily—“Get up. It’s all over now. Come and help me. Don’t let these horrible people see Tanner like this.”He turned to me then, and let his eyes fall on our messmate.“Can you get me a drink of water, Ching?” he murmured.“Yes, d’leckly; wait lit’ bit. Po’ Mr Barki’ Tanner leg velly bad, makee sick. You’ alm velly bad still?”“Very bad; it throbs,” murmured Smith.“Ah, yes! Wait lit’ bit and no clowd. Ching take you have cup flesh tea, and quite well d’leckly. You not likee execution?”I shook my head.“Velly good job cut allee head off. No go killee killee, burn ship no more.”“We’re not used to seeing such things,” I said weakly, as I supported Barkins to keep him from slipping to the ground.“You no go see execution when Queen Victolia cut off bad men’s head?”I shook my head.“Ah, I see,” said Ching. “Me tink you have velly gleat tleat. But I see, not used to see. Velly blave boy, not mind littlee bit next time.”“What’s the matter? Don’t, doctor. It’s getting well now.”It was Barkins who spoke, and his hands went suddenly to his injured leg, and held it, as he bent over towards it and rocked himself to and fro.“Throbs and burns,” he said, drawing in his breath as if in pain. “I—I—”He looked round wildly.“I remember now,” he said faintly. “Don’t laugh at me, you chaps. I turned sick as a dog as soon as that butchering was over. I never felt like this over the fighting. I say, Gnat, did I faint right away?”“Yes, dead!” I said; “I was nearly as bad.”“Enough to make you. But oh, my leg, how it does sting! I say, isn’t it queer that it should come on now? Did the fainting do it?”“I dunno,” said Smith hastily, “but my arm aches horribly. I say, do let’s get away from here, or I shall be obliged to look over yonder again.”“Yes, I’m all right again now,” said Barkins quietly. “Let’s get away. I say, lads, it’s of no use to be humbugs; we did all feel precious bad, eh?”We looked at each other dolefully.“Yes, let’s get away,” I said. “I thought we were coming out for a jolly day.”Barkins shuddered and now stood up.“Yes,” he said; “I hope the skipper liked it. Can you see him now?”“Skipper? Cap’n?” said Ching, whose ears were always sharp enough to catch our words. “Gone along, Mr Leardon. Make gland plocession all away back to palace. You go sail, soon catch more pilate.”“I hope, if we do,” said Smith, “that we shall not bring back any prisoners.”The enclosure was thinning fast now, as we walked toward the gateway by which we had entered, where a strong body of soldiers had been on guard over the barricades, in case of an attempt being made by the pirates’ friends to rescue them, and we saw plainly enough that had we wanted there would have been no getting away.“You likee go in and see plison?” said Ching insinuatingly. “Plenty bad men lock up safe.”“No, thank you,” I said eagerly. “Let’s get out of this, and go and have some tea.”“Yes, plenty tea. Ching show way.”The Chinese soldiers stared at us haughtily as we walked by, and I drew myself up, hoping that no one there had witnessed our weakness, for if they had I knew that they could not feel much respect for the blue-jackets who hunted down the scoundrels that infested their seas.Both Barkins and Smith must have felt something after the fashion that I did, for they too drew themselves up, returned the haughty stares, and Barkins stopped short to look one truculent savage fellow over from head to foot, especially gazing at his weapons, and then, turning coolly to me, he said, with a nod in the man’s direction—“Tidy sort of stuff to make soldiers off, Gnat, but too heavy.”The man’s eyes flashed and his hand stole toward his sword hilt.“’Tention!” roared Barkins with a fierce stamp, and though the order was new to the guard, he took it to be a military command and stepped back to remain stiff and motionless.“Ha! that’s better,” cried Barkins, and he nodded and then passed on with us after Ching, whose eyes bespoke the agony of terror he felt.“Come long quickee,” he whispered excitedly. “Very big blave that fellow. Killee—fightee man. You no ’flaid of him?”“Afraid? No,” said Barkins shortly. “There, let’s have this tea.”Ching glanced round once, and we were about to imitate his example, but he said excitedly—“No, no, don’t lookee. Big blave talkee talkee soldier, and tink Inglis offlicer ’flaid. Walkee past.”He led us as quickly as he could get us to go towards the tea-house he sought, and I must own that I was only too anxious about the Chinese guards to help feeling in a good deal of perturbation lest they should feel that they had been insulted, and follow us so as to take revenge. Hence I was glad enough to get within the tea-house’s hospitable walls, and sat there quite content to go on sipping the fragrant infusion for long enough.I suppose we were there quite an hour and a half drinking tea, until we were satisfied, and then passing a look round to draw attention to our interpreter, who sat back with his eyes half closed, sipping away cupful after cupful, till Smith whispered to me that he thought he had kept correct account.“How many do you think Ching has had?” he whispered.“Don’t know; nearly a dozen?”“Fifty-three, or thereabouts,” whispered Smith.But I did not believe him, and I do not think he believed himself.“Now, you likee go ’long see somethin’ else?” said Ching, when he had really drunk tea enough.“Yes,” said Barkins, “I feel ready. What do you say to going to see theTeaser, lads?” he continued.“I’m willing,” said Smith. “I want to lie down.”“You ready, Gnat?”“Oh yes,” I replied. “I don’t feel as if I could enjoy anything to-day.”“Right, then. No, Ching; back on board ship.”“You go velly soon? Now?”“Yes, directly.”Ching smiled—he had a habit of smiling at everything nearly, and we paid our reckoning and followed him down to the landing-place, to arrive there just in time to see the barge with the captain and his escort gliding rapidly away toward the ship.“Too soon findee boat,” said Ching. “Tellee man come when sun go out of sight.”“Yes, and that means two hours good,” said Barkins. “Look here, Ching, hire a boat cheap. Get a fellow with a sailing-boat, if you can.”“Yes,” said the Chinaman, nodding his head in a satisfied way, “Good boat—velly nice boat—boat with velly big sail fly over water, eh?”“Yes, that’s it,” said Barkins. “And look sharp, for there are a lot of low blackguardly-looking fellows coming up, and we don’t want another row.”Barkins was quite right, for, as in our own seaports, there were plenty of roughs about, and whether in blue frocks and pith boots or British rags, the loafer is much the same. Ching saw at a glance that the sooner we were off the better, and hurried us a little way along the wharf till he saw a boat that seemed suitable.“You all get in velly quick,” he said.“But we must make a bargain with the man.”“Plesently,” he replied, as we hurried in, and he ordered the man in charge to put off.The man began to protest volubly, but Ching rose up, and with a fierce look rustled his new coat and sat down again, with the result that the man loosened the rope which held his boat to the side, and the swift tide began to bear us away directly, the man hoisting up a small matting-sail and then meekly thrusting an oar over, with which to steer.“Why, what did you say to him, Ching?” I asked; and the interpreter smiled, and wrinkled up his eyes till he resembled a piece of old china on a chimney-piece.“Ching say velly lit’ bit; only shake his new coat till common man see it silk. He feel velly much flighten all a same, as if big-button mandalin get in him boat.”“And what shall we have to pay him?”“P’laps nothing ’tall.”“Oh, nonsense!” I said. “We must pay him the proper fare.”“Velly well, pay him ploper money.”I anticipated trouble, but when we got to the side and a dollar was handed to the man, his heavy round face lit up with pleasure, and he said something aloud.“What does he say, Ching?” I asked.“Say velly glad, and didn’t tink he get anything ’tall.”We made the best of our way below, fully expecting that, if the captain and Mr Reardon saw us, they would take us to task for being at the execution, and ask; us how we dared to follow them there. But, as luck had it, they had been too much occupied by the horrible affair in progress, and our presence had escaped them. But it was a long while before I could get the scene out of my head or think of our trip ashore that day as anything but a horrible mistake.
I felt as it were a sudden jar run through me when I heard Ching’s words. It was as if I had been awakened by a sudden revelation. This, then, was the grand show he had contrived for us as a treat! It was all clear enough: our officers had been invited to the execution of the pirates we had taken, and conceiving, with all a Chinaman’s indifference to death, that we three lads, who had been present at their capture, would consider it as a great treat to be witnesses of the punishment awarded by the Government, Ching had contrived to get permission for us to be present.
I glanced at the Tanner, who had grasped the situation, and was screwing his face up so as to look perfectly unconcerned; but it was a dismal failure, for I could see a peculiar twitching going on at the corners of his eyes, and he passed his tongue rapidly over his lips and went through the action of swallowing as if his mouth and throat were dry.
I next looked at Smithy, whose eyes showed more white than usual, and whose complexion was of a sickly-green, just as I had seen it during some very rough weather we had going down the Channel on first starting for this voyage.
How I looked I have only Barkins’ word for, and he told me afterwards that I seemed as if I was waiting for my turn to suffer with the pirates.
After the sharp glance I gave at my fellows neither of us stirred, but sat there as if petrified. I was horror-stricken, and there was a strong impulse upon me to jump up and run out, but shame and the dread of being considered cowardly kept me in my place. In fact, as after-confessions made clear, we were absolutely stunned, and I don’t think we could have stirred had we made up our minds to go.
Then I felt dizzy, and the brilliant group of officials and military magnates and judges opposite to where we sat grew blurred and strange-looking in the bright sunshine.
At last I felt as if I must argue out the question, and with my teeth set firm, and my eyes fixed upon the sandy ground of the enclosure, some such thoughts as these ran through my brain— “It is only just that these men should suffer for their horrible crimes, for they are more dangerous than venomous serpents, and I suppose that Captain Thwaites and Lieutenant Reardon are obliged to come as a kind of duty; but we three came under the idea that we were to see some kind of exhibition, and old Ching did it out of kindness, not knowing of what kind of stuff we were made. I shan’t stop.”
There I paused to fight with other ideas.
“Tanner and Blacksmith will laugh at me and think I am a coward. Well, let them,” I said to myself at last. “It isn’t cowardice not to wish to see such a horror as this. I didn’t feel cowardly when they were shooting at us down in the creek, and it would be far more cowardly to sit here against my will without speaking. I will tell them I want to go.”
I should think that every lad of the age I then was, will pretty well understand my feelings, and what a bitter thing it was to turn and confess what they would jeer at and call “funk.” It was hard work indeed.
“I don’t care,” I muttered. “I know they’ll protest and say they don’t want to come, but be very glad to come away all the time. I will speak.”
Just then that horrible Chinaman turned to me with his round fat face, all smiling and delighted.
“You velly glad you come?” he said. “You feel velly happy?”
My mind was made up at this, and I spoke out.
“No,” I said in a husky whisper. “I didn’t know we had come to see this. I shall go.”
“What?” said Barkins, with a forced laugh. “Look here, Blacksmith, he’s showing the white feather.”
“Ho! ho!” laughed Smith. “Come, Gnat, I thought you had a little more spirit in you. Serve the beggars right.”
“Yes, I know that,” I said firmly enough now, as I looked at their faces, which, in spite of the masks they had assumed, looked ghastly; “and I daresay I haven’t pluck enough to sit it out. But I don’t care for your grins; I’m not ashamed to say that I shall go.”
“Oh, well, if you feel that it would upset you,” said Barkins, in a tone of voice full of protest, “I suppose that we had better see you off, and go somewhere else.”
“Poof!” ejaculated Smith in a low tone. “Look at him, Gnat; he’s in just as much of a stew as you are. Well, it’s too bad of you both, but if you must go, why, I suppose we must.”
“You beggar!” snarled Barkins angrily. “Why, you’re worse than I am. Look at him, Gnat! There, I will own it. I felt sick as soon as I knew what was going to happen, but I won’t be such a bumptious, bragging sneak as he is. Look at his face. It’s green and yellow. He wants to go worse than we do.”
Smith did not seem to be listening, for his starting eyes were fixed upon the far right-hand gate, over which there was a kind of pagoda, and he rose from his seat.
“Come on at once,” he whispered, “they’re going to begin.”
“Confessed!” whispered Barkins, pinching my knee. “Come on then quick, Gnat, old man; it’s too horrid.”
We all rose together, and were in the act of turning when a low hoarse murmur rose from behind, and we saw that a crowd of angry faces were gazing at us, and that they were nearly all armed men.
But before we had recovered from our surprise, Ching had caught my arm and pressed me to my seat.
“No go now,” he whispered, with a look of alarm in his face, and he leaned over me and dragged my companions down in turn. “No can go now. Allee gate fasten. Makee blave velly angly and dlaw sword; fightee fightee. Ching velly solly. Must stop now.”
There was a low hissing noise all about us, and threatening looks, while a fierce man in embroidered silk said something in his own tongue to Ching, who answered humbly, and then tamed to us and whispered—
“Small-button mandalin say make big-button peacock-feather mandalin velly angly. You no sit still. Sh! sh!”
“We must sit it out, boys,” I said, with a shudder; “but we need not look.”
My words were quite correct to a certain extent, but as my companions, who now looked more ghastly than ever, sank back in their seats, I felt compelled to gaze across to where I could now see a red table exactly facing me. Then a movement to the right caught my attention, and through the far gateway, and lowering it a little as he passed under the archway, rode an officer with a yellow silk banner, upon which were large black Chinese characters. Behind him came some more showily-dressed officials; and then, in a kind of sedan chair, one whom I at once saw to be the chief mandarin, for whom we had been waiting.
He was carried across to the front, where he alighted and walked slowly across to the red table, followed by sword, spear, and matchlock men, who, as he took his place at the table, ranged themselves on either side facing us, and completing a spectacle that, seen there in the bright light, strongly suggested the opening of some grand pantomime.
I remember thinking this, and then shuddering at the horrible thought, and at the same time I began wondering at the intense interest I could not help taking in what was going on.
Two more grandees in chairs of state followed, and then there was a pause. I could see that our officers were politely saluted, and that care was taken that no one should be in front of them. And now came the more exciting part of the terrible exhibition.
Suddenly there was the loud booming of a gong, and the head of an escort of spearmen marched through the gateway, followed by a group of men in twos, each pair bearing a long bamboo pole, from which, hanging in each case like a scale, was a large basket, and heavily chained in each basket was a man, whom we knew at once to be one of the pirates we had captured, without Ching whispering to us—
“Velly bad men, killee evelybody. They killee now.”
My eyes would not close. They were fascinated by the horrible procession; and I now saw, just in front of the bearers, a tall-looking bare-headed man carrying a large bright sword, curved in the fashion we see in old pictures of the Turkish scimitar, a blade which increases in width from the hilt nearly to the end, where it is suddenly cut off diagonally to form a sharp point.
Behind this man marched five more, the procession moving right to the front between us and the brilliant party whose centre was the principal mandarin.
I now saw, too, that every one of the miserable culprits was ticketed or labelled, a bamboo upon which a piece of paper was stuck being attached to his neck and head.
A low murmur ran round among the spectators, as, at a signal from the man with the great sword, who I saw now must be the executioner, the bearers stopped, and with a jerk threw the poles off their shoulders into their hands, bumped the baskets heavily down upon the ground, and shot the malefactors out as unceremoniously as if they had been so much earth.
I heard Barkins draw a deep breath, and saw Smith leaning forward and gazing wildly at the scene, while I felt my heart gothrob throbheavily, and found myself wishing that I had not shared in the capture of the wretched men.
The chief mandarin then turned to the officer on horseback, who carried the imperial yellow flag, said a few words in a low tone, and he in turn pushed his horse a little forward to where the executioner was waiting, and evidently conveyed the mandarin’s orders.
Then suddenly the pirates, as if moved by one consent, struggled to their feet and began shouting.
Ching placed his lips close to my ear—
“Say, please no choppee off head. Velly bad men, killee lot always; velly bad.”
And now I felt that the time had come to close my eyes, but they remained fixed. I could not avert my gaze from a scene which was made more horrible by a struggle which took place between the first pirate of the long row in which they stood and the executioner.
The man shouted out some words angrily, and Ching interpreted them in my ear, his explanation being in company with a strange surging noise—
“Say he come back and killee him if he choppee off head. Oh, he velly bad man.”
But quickly, as if quite accustomed to the task, two of the executioner’s assistants rushed at the pirate; one of them forced him down into a kneeling position; they then seized his long tail, drew it over his head and hung back, thus holding the pirate’s neck outstretched; lastly, I saw the executioner draw back, the sword flashed, I heard a dull thud—the head fell, and the body rolled over on one side.
Before I could drag my eyes from the horror there was the same terrible sound again, and another head fell upon the ground, while, with a rapidity that was astounding, the assistants passed from one culprit to the other in the long row, the miserable wretches making not the slightest resistance, but kneeling patiently in the position in which they were thrust, whilewhish, whish, whish, the executioner lopped off their heads at one blow.
“Allee done,” said Ching. “Execution man have velly much plactice.”
He said this to me, but I made no reply, for the whole place seemed to be going round and round.
“You thinkee they all come back again and have junk? Go kill shoot evelybody, pilate ghost-man?”
“No,” I said hoarsely; “can we go now?”
“Velly soon. Gleat clowd all along gate. Lookee, Mis’ Tanner go s’eep.”
These words roused me, and I turned to Barkins, who was lying back with his eyes nearly closed and looking ghastly, while Smith sat staring straight before him, with his hands grasping the seat on either side, in a stiff, awkward position.
“Here, Smithy,” I said, “quick, Tanner has fainted;” but he took no notice, and I whispered to him angrily—
“Get up. It’s all over now. Come and help me. Don’t let these horrible people see Tanner like this.”
He turned to me then, and let his eyes fall on our messmate.
“Can you get me a drink of water, Ching?” he murmured.
“Yes, d’leckly; wait lit’ bit. Po’ Mr Barki’ Tanner leg velly bad, makee sick. You’ alm velly bad still?”
“Very bad; it throbs,” murmured Smith.
“Ah, yes! Wait lit’ bit and no clowd. Ching take you have cup flesh tea, and quite well d’leckly. You not likee execution?”
I shook my head.
“Velly good job cut allee head off. No go killee killee, burn ship no more.”
“We’re not used to seeing such things,” I said weakly, as I supported Barkins to keep him from slipping to the ground.
“You no go see execution when Queen Victolia cut off bad men’s head?”
I shook my head.
“Ah, I see,” said Ching. “Me tink you have velly gleat tleat. But I see, not used to see. Velly blave boy, not mind littlee bit next time.”
“What’s the matter? Don’t, doctor. It’s getting well now.”
It was Barkins who spoke, and his hands went suddenly to his injured leg, and held it, as he bent over towards it and rocked himself to and fro.
“Throbs and burns,” he said, drawing in his breath as if in pain. “I—I—”
He looked round wildly.
“I remember now,” he said faintly. “Don’t laugh at me, you chaps. I turned sick as a dog as soon as that butchering was over. I never felt like this over the fighting. I say, Gnat, did I faint right away?”
“Yes, dead!” I said; “I was nearly as bad.”
“Enough to make you. But oh, my leg, how it does sting! I say, isn’t it queer that it should come on now? Did the fainting do it?”
“I dunno,” said Smith hastily, “but my arm aches horribly. I say, do let’s get away from here, or I shall be obliged to look over yonder again.”
“Yes, I’m all right again now,” said Barkins quietly. “Let’s get away. I say, lads, it’s of no use to be humbugs; we did all feel precious bad, eh?”
We looked at each other dolefully.
“Yes, let’s get away,” I said. “I thought we were coming out for a jolly day.”
Barkins shuddered and now stood up.
“Yes,” he said; “I hope the skipper liked it. Can you see him now?”
“Skipper? Cap’n?” said Ching, whose ears were always sharp enough to catch our words. “Gone along, Mr Leardon. Make gland plocession all away back to palace. You go sail, soon catch more pilate.”
“I hope, if we do,” said Smith, “that we shall not bring back any prisoners.”
The enclosure was thinning fast now, as we walked toward the gateway by which we had entered, where a strong body of soldiers had been on guard over the barricades, in case of an attempt being made by the pirates’ friends to rescue them, and we saw plainly enough that had we wanted there would have been no getting away.
“You likee go in and see plison?” said Ching insinuatingly. “Plenty bad men lock up safe.”
“No, thank you,” I said eagerly. “Let’s get out of this, and go and have some tea.”
“Yes, plenty tea. Ching show way.”
The Chinese soldiers stared at us haughtily as we walked by, and I drew myself up, hoping that no one there had witnessed our weakness, for if they had I knew that they could not feel much respect for the blue-jackets who hunted down the scoundrels that infested their seas.
Both Barkins and Smith must have felt something after the fashion that I did, for they too drew themselves up, returned the haughty stares, and Barkins stopped short to look one truculent savage fellow over from head to foot, especially gazing at his weapons, and then, turning coolly to me, he said, with a nod in the man’s direction—
“Tidy sort of stuff to make soldiers off, Gnat, but too heavy.”
The man’s eyes flashed and his hand stole toward his sword hilt.
“’Tention!” roared Barkins with a fierce stamp, and though the order was new to the guard, he took it to be a military command and stepped back to remain stiff and motionless.
“Ha! that’s better,” cried Barkins, and he nodded and then passed on with us after Ching, whose eyes bespoke the agony of terror he felt.
“Come long quickee,” he whispered excitedly. “Very big blave that fellow. Killee—fightee man. You no ’flaid of him?”
“Afraid? No,” said Barkins shortly. “There, let’s have this tea.”
Ching glanced round once, and we were about to imitate his example, but he said excitedly—
“No, no, don’t lookee. Big blave talkee talkee soldier, and tink Inglis offlicer ’flaid. Walkee past.”
He led us as quickly as he could get us to go towards the tea-house he sought, and I must own that I was only too anxious about the Chinese guards to help feeling in a good deal of perturbation lest they should feel that they had been insulted, and follow us so as to take revenge. Hence I was glad enough to get within the tea-house’s hospitable walls, and sat there quite content to go on sipping the fragrant infusion for long enough.
I suppose we were there quite an hour and a half drinking tea, until we were satisfied, and then passing a look round to draw attention to our interpreter, who sat back with his eyes half closed, sipping away cupful after cupful, till Smith whispered to me that he thought he had kept correct account.
“How many do you think Ching has had?” he whispered.
“Don’t know; nearly a dozen?”
“Fifty-three, or thereabouts,” whispered Smith.
But I did not believe him, and I do not think he believed himself.
“Now, you likee go ’long see somethin’ else?” said Ching, when he had really drunk tea enough.
“Yes,” said Barkins, “I feel ready. What do you say to going to see theTeaser, lads?” he continued.
“I’m willing,” said Smith. “I want to lie down.”
“You ready, Gnat?”
“Oh yes,” I replied. “I don’t feel as if I could enjoy anything to-day.”
“Right, then. No, Ching; back on board ship.”
“You go velly soon? Now?”
“Yes, directly.”
Ching smiled—he had a habit of smiling at everything nearly, and we paid our reckoning and followed him down to the landing-place, to arrive there just in time to see the barge with the captain and his escort gliding rapidly away toward the ship.
“Too soon findee boat,” said Ching. “Tellee man come when sun go out of sight.”
“Yes, and that means two hours good,” said Barkins. “Look here, Ching, hire a boat cheap. Get a fellow with a sailing-boat, if you can.”
“Yes,” said the Chinaman, nodding his head in a satisfied way, “Good boat—velly nice boat—boat with velly big sail fly over water, eh?”
“Yes, that’s it,” said Barkins. “And look sharp, for there are a lot of low blackguardly-looking fellows coming up, and we don’t want another row.”
Barkins was quite right, for, as in our own seaports, there were plenty of roughs about, and whether in blue frocks and pith boots or British rags, the loafer is much the same. Ching saw at a glance that the sooner we were off the better, and hurried us a little way along the wharf till he saw a boat that seemed suitable.
“You all get in velly quick,” he said.
“But we must make a bargain with the man.”
“Plesently,” he replied, as we hurried in, and he ordered the man in charge to put off.
The man began to protest volubly, but Ching rose up, and with a fierce look rustled his new coat and sat down again, with the result that the man loosened the rope which held his boat to the side, and the swift tide began to bear us away directly, the man hoisting up a small matting-sail and then meekly thrusting an oar over, with which to steer.
“Why, what did you say to him, Ching?” I asked; and the interpreter smiled, and wrinkled up his eyes till he resembled a piece of old china on a chimney-piece.
“Ching say velly lit’ bit; only shake his new coat till common man see it silk. He feel velly much flighten all a same, as if big-button mandalin get in him boat.”
“And what shall we have to pay him?”
“P’laps nothing ’tall.”
“Oh, nonsense!” I said. “We must pay him the proper fare.”
“Velly well, pay him ploper money.”
I anticipated trouble, but when we got to the side and a dollar was handed to the man, his heavy round face lit up with pleasure, and he said something aloud.
“What does he say, Ching?” I asked.
“Say velly glad, and didn’t tink he get anything ’tall.”
We made the best of our way below, fully expecting that, if the captain and Mr Reardon saw us, they would take us to task for being at the execution, and ask; us how we dared to follow them there. But, as luck had it, they had been too much occupied by the horrible affair in progress, and our presence had escaped them. But it was a long while before I could get the scene out of my head or think of our trip ashore that day as anything but a horrible mistake.
Chapter Twenty Six.“Man Overboard.”It was a great relief to us all to find that our visit to the Chinese prison had not been noticed. We of course kept silence about it, not even telling Mr Brooke, who was the most friendly of our officers, and we had the satisfaction of finding that Ching obeyed our orders, and kept his peace.I used to be rather sorry for him, his position being so solitary on board. For he could not make himself at home with the sailors in the forecastle, and though as frank, good-hearted fellows as ever lived, they seemed to look upon him only in one way, that of being a butt for their sharp witticisms, an object upon whom they were to play practical jokes.Consequently I used often, when I found him standing alone by the bulwarks watching the shore, to edge up to him, and stop to talk; our conversation being directed by me toward some little unpleasantry in the forecastle, which if he had complained about to the first lieutenant, there would have been a severe reprimand.I remember one of these occasions, when Ching came flying up out of the hatch, followed by a roar of laughter, and as he reached the deck,clang-clangwent something against the sides of the hatch; but Ching paid no heed, running forward till he was right up by the side of the bowsprit.I followed quickly, feeling angry on the man’s behalf.“What’s the matter?” I cried. “What have they been doing?”“No know,” he said rather pitifully, as he stood there trembling. “Done something. Thlow tin-kettle after.”“But what for? What were you doing?”“Doing? fass ’sleep, dleam ’bout big fly come and bite leg. Jump up and lun. Then thlow kettle after.”“Here, let’s look,” I said; for as he shook his head there was the same hollow sound again, just like that made by a tin sheep-bell.“Why, they’ve tied it to you,” I said sharply.“Tie to Ching flock? Don’t matter. Not bess blue silkee.”“Here, let me see,” I cried. “Turn round.”He turned sharply, and something banged against the bulwark.“What a shame!” I cried. “They’ve tied the old canister to your tail.”“Tie canny all along Ching tow-chang?” he cried.“Yes, and it’s a rascally shame.”“Yes, allee lascally shame,” he said, nodding his head. “Not hurt velly. Only flighten velly much, makee lun fass.”“Stand still, and I’ll soon have it off,” I cried, whipping out my knife.“No, no,” he cried, dragging the long plait from my hand; “mightee cut tow-chang, and that velly dleadful. Take long time glow.”“Very well, then. I’ll unfasten it, and show it to Mr Reardon.”“What for? make Mis’ Leardon velly angly, scold jolly sailor boy. Then they not like Ching ’tall.”“But it’s too bad; treating you just as if you were a dog.”“Jolly sailor boy tie tin-pot dog tow-chang? No. Mr Hellick make laugh. Dog not got tow-chang.”“No,” I said, trying very hard to get the pot off, “but dogs have got tails.”“Yes, got tails. Don’t tellee, make no good. Didn’t hurt Ching.”“But it’s an insult to you,” I said. “Any one would think they were a pack of boys.”“Yes, jolly sailor boy. You no makee come off?”“No,” I said. “They’ve made a big hole through the bottom of the canister, pushed the end of the tail—”“Tow-chang.”“Well, tow-chang, if you like to call it so—through into the inside, and then hammered the tin back round it and made it as fast as fast. Here, I shall have to cut it, Ching.”“No, no,” he cried, seizing the canister. “No cuttee piece of tow-chang.”“Then how are we to get it off?”“Don’t know, Mr Hellick; look velly bad?”“Horrible—absurd; every one will laugh at you.”“Yes, velly bad. Ching put it in pocket.”“Oh, you’re there, are you?” I cried, as Tom Jecks came cautiously on deck. “I should have thought that a man of your years would have known better than to help torment this poor Chinaman.”“Not velly poor,” he whispered. “Ching got fancee shop. Plenty plize-money now.”“Didn’t have nought to do with it,” growled Tom Jecks.“Then who did, sir?”“Dunno, sir; some o’ the boys. I was caulking till they wakened me wi’ laughing.”“But you saw it done?”“No, sir; it was all done aforehand. They’d turned his tail into a bull-roarer, and if you was to swing it round now like a windmill, it would make no end of a row.”“Silence, sir,” I cried. “It’s disgraceful.”“Lor’, sir, they on’y meant it for a bit of a lark.”“Then they should lark among themselves, and not take advantage of a poor foreigner whom they ought to protect.”“Yes, sir, that’s right enough. But he were asleep, and it didn’t hurt him till one on ’em stuck a pin in his leg to waken him up.”“Ah!” I cried. “Who did?”“Well, sir,” said Tom Jecks. “Now you do puzzle me above a bit. It was one o’ the lads, because the pin must have gone into his leg, for he squeaked out and then run up the ladder with the tin-pot banging about right and left, but who it was stuck that pin in, it were so dark that I couldn’t say.”“You mean that you won’t say, Tom?”“Well, sir, you’re orficer, and I’m on’y AB, and I shan’t contradict you; have it that way if you like.”“I shall say no more, but we’ll see what Mr Reardon says when he hears about it.”“Why, Mr Herrick, sir, yo’ wouldn’t go and tell upon the poor lads, would you? It were on’y a bit of a game, were it, Mr Ching?”“No, only bit game,” said the Chinaman.“There, you hear, sir. There wasn’t no bones broke.”“Hold your tongue, sir.”“Cert’n’y, sir.”“And come here.”Tom Jecks stepped forward obsequiously.“Look, the tin sticks all round fast into the tail as if it were a rabbit trap.”“Ay, sir, it do; and if I might say so, they managed it very cleverly.”“Cleverly?”“Yes, sir. If I’d been doing it, I should on’y have thought of tying it on with a bit o’ spun-yarn; but this here tin holds it wonderful tight.”“How are we to get it off?”“Oh, I can soon get it off,” cried Tom Jecks, who seemed to be imbued with the same notion as Alexander of old, who unsheathed his sword to cut the Gordian knot. For he hauled out his knife by the lanyard, opened the blade with his teeth, and took a step forward, but Ching held the canister behind him and dodged round me.“Steady, my lad,” growled Tom Jecks, “it arn’t a operation. Stand by.”“No, no, no!” shrieked Ching.“Steady, my lad, I’ll soon have it off. I won’t cut down to the bone.”“No, no!” cried Ching, who was excited and alarmed, and who now began chattering in his own tongue, allpang ang nong wong ong, and a series of guttural sounds, while I could do nothing for laughing, but had to stand like a post for Ching to dodge behind.“Why don’t you stand by, messmate?” growled Tom Jecks. “You can’t go through life with that there tin-kettle tied to your tail. Fust one as see yer will be calling, ‘Mad dog.’”By this time the watch had come to see what was going on, and I now began to feel sorry for the Chinaman.“Here, Ching,” I said. “Come down below.”But he was too much alarmed for the moment to listen to my words, expecting every moment as he was that some one would make a snatch at his tail, to obviate which accident he was now holding the canister tightly beneath his arm, and looking wildly round for a way to escape.“Hadn’t we better have it took off, sir?” said Tom Jecks, and there was a roar of laughter. “Let’s ketch him and take him to the doctor.”“No, no!” cried Ching, dodging round me again, for Tom Jecks, to the delight of the others, made a snatch at him.“You’ll be a deal more comfortable, messmate—you know you will. Here, let’s have it?”Tom Jecks made another snatch at him, but Ching avoided it, and to save him from further annoyance I too made a snatch.Poor fellow, interpreter though he was, he misinterpreted my intentions. He tore away from my grasp and made a rush forward, but several men were coming in that direction, and he dashed back to find himself faced by Tom Jecks again. In his desperation he charged right at the sailor, lowering his head as he did so, and striking him with so much force that Tom Jecks went down sprawling, and Ching leaped over him.There was no way open to him for escape, as it seemed, and he made a rush for the side, leaped up, was on the bulwarks in an instant, and made a snatch at the foremast shrouds as if to climb up into the rigging, when either his foot slipped or his long loose cotton jacket caught in something, I don’t know how it was, but one moment I saw him staggering, the next there was the terrible cry of “Man overboard” raised as I rushed toward the side, heard the splash, and got upon the bulwark in time to see the agitated water.That was all.It was rapidly getting dark, the tide was running swiftly seaward, and even if the Chinaman could swim it seemed very doubtful whether he could maintain himself long, hampered as he was by his loose clinging clothes.But at the raising of the cry, “Man overboard,” there is not much time lost on board a man-of-war. A crew leaped into the boat; the falls were seized; and in a minute the keel touched the water, and I found myself, as I stood on the bulwark holding on by a rope, called upon to direct those who had gone.“Which way, sir? See him?”I could only answer no, and then reply to Mr Reardon, who came up panting.“Who is it?” he cried. “Mr Herrick?”“No, sir, I’m here,” I shouted. “It’s the interpreter.”“And what business had he up on the hammock-rail?” roared the lieutenant as he climbed up there himself. “Steady, my lads, he can’t be far.”At that moment there was a flash, and a brilliant blue-light burst out on the surface of the black water, sending a glare all round from where it floated on the trigger life-buoy, which had been detached and glided away astern, while directly after a second blue-light blazed out from the stern of the boat, showing the men dipping their oars lightly, and two forward and two astern shading their eyes and scanning the flashing and sparkling water.“Can’t you see him?” roared the lieutenant.“No, sir.”We leaped downward, hurried right aft where the captain and the other officers were now gathered, and the orders were given for a second boat to be lowered and help to save the poor fellow.“He ought to float, sir,” said Mr Reardon in answer to some remark from the captain. “He’s fat enough.”Then he began shouting orders to the men to row to and fro; and my heart sank as I vainly searched the lit-up water, for there was no sign of the unfortunate Chinaman.“What a horrible ending to a practical joke!” I thought, and a bitter feeling of disappointment assailed me, as I asked myself why I had not gone in the second boat to help save the poor fellow.Perhaps it was vanity, but in those exciting moments I felt that if I had been there I might have seen him, for it never occurred to me that I had a far better chance of seeing him from my post of vantage high up on that quarter-deck rail.“See him yet?”“No, sir!”—“No, sir!”The first hail loudly from close by, the other from far away where the blue-lights shone.“Bless my soul!” cried Mr Reardon, with an angry stamp. “I can’t understand it. He must have come up again.”“Unless his pockets were heavily laden,” said the captain, going to where Mr Reardon stood. “These men carry a great deal about them under their long loose clothes. Some heavy copper money, perhaps. A very little would be enough to keep a struggling man down.”“Ha!” ejaculated Mr Reardon, while I shivered at the idea of poor old Ching coming to so terrible an end.“A glass here!” cried Mr Reardon, and one was handed up to him.“Try the life-buoy,” cried the captain.“Bless me, sir, I was going to,” retorted the lieutenant irritably; “but the idiot who uses this glass ought to be turned out of the service for being short-sighted. I shall never get it to the right focus.”The captain gave a dry cough, and I turned round sharply, expecting to hear some angry exclamation.“No,” cried Mr Reardon, “he is not clinging to the life-buoy. I wouldn’t for anything that it should have happened. Poor fellow! Poor fellow!”“Ay, poor fellow!” muttered Captain Thwaites. “Any use to lower another boat, Reardon?”“No, sir, no,” cried the lieutenant, “or I would have had one down. Ahoy there!” he roared. “Light another blue!”“Ay, ay, sir!” came from far away, for the tide ran hissing by our sides in full rush for the sea, and the third blue-light which blazed out looked smaller and smaller, while those of the first boat and the life-buoy began to show faint, and then all at once that on the buoy seemed to go out.“That blue-light ought to have burned longer on the buoy,” cried Mr Reardon.“They’ve picked up the buoy and laid it across the bows of the boat,” said Mr Brooke, who was watching through his night-glass, and at that moment the light blazed out again like a star.And still the halos shed by the lights grew fainter and fainter. Then one light burned out, and the lieutenant stamped with anger, but there was no cause for his irritation. Another flashed out directly.The boats were too far away now for us to see much of what was going on, the heads of the men growing blurred, but we saw that they were zig-zagging across the tide, and we listened in vain for the hail and the cheer that should accompany the words—“Got him, sir!”The buzz of conversation among the men, who clustered on deck, in the shrouds and tops, grew fainter, and I was thinking whether I was very much to blame, and if I could in any way have saved the poor fellow. Then I began thinking of the men in the forecastle, and their punishment for being the cause, in their boyish way of playing tricks, of the poor Chinaman’s death.I wouldn’t be Tom Jecks for all the world, I muttered, and then I turned cold and shuddered, as the hope, faint though it was, of Ching being picked up went out like one of the lights that now disappeared; for Captain Thwaites said sadly—“I’m afraid we must recall the boats, Mr Reardon.”“Yes, sir,” said the lieutenant in a husky voice. “I don’t think any one is to blame about the attempt to save the poor fellow, sir. The life-buoy was let go, and the boat lowered promptly; the dishipline of the men was good.”“Excellent, Mr Reardon. I have nothing to say there. It would have been better perhaps to have lowered down the second boat sooner. But I think we have done our best. Can you make them hear from this distance?”“Yes, I think so; a voice will travel far over the smooth water on a still night like this. Shall I recall them?”Captain Thwaites was silent for a full minute, and we all stood gazing aft at the faint stars on the black water, while to right and left were those that were more dim and distant, being the paper lanterns of the house-boats moored a short distance from the bank.Then the captain spoke again, and his words re-illumined the parting light of hope which flashed up like an expiring flame.“Do you think he has struck out straight for the shore?”“He may have done so, sir,” replied Mr Reardon, as we all stood in a knot together on the quarter-deck, “but he could never have reached it.”“Not in this mill-race of a tide!” said Captain Thwaites. “Recall the boats.”But Mr Reardon made no sign. He stood there gazing through the night-glass for some moments, and the captain spoke again.“Recall the boats, Mr Reardon.”“I beg your pardon, sir,” said the lieutenant, with quite a start. “Aloft there! Who’s in the foretop?”“Ay, ay, sir; Jecks, sir.”I shivered.“Hail the boats to come back.”The man did not answer for a moment, and Mr Reardon made an angry gesture, but just then Tom Jecks, with his hands to his mouth, sent forth a hoarse deep-toned roar.Then there was a pause and a faintly-heard hail came from far away, the zig-zagging movement of the boats ceased, and we saw one of them, that is to say one of the lights, glide slowly toward the other, till one was apparently only a short distance in front, and the other following.“Let me know when the boats come alongside, Mr Reardon,” said the captain quietly.“Yes, sir.”“And, by the way, I’ll trouble you for my night-glass.”Mr Reardon gave a violent start.“Your night-glass, sir?” he said.“Yes, mine; you borrowed it.”The lieutenant handed the telescope without a word, and at another time we should all have had to turn away to smother the desire to burst out laughing, as we recalled the irritable remarks about the idiot to whom the glass belonged, and the wretchedness of his eyesight, coupled with an opinion that he ought to be dismissed the service.But it was not a time for mirth: we were all too sad, and Barkins contented himself with whispering—“I say, I’m jolly glad it wasn’t I who said that. Don’t the skipper take it coolly now? But he’ll give old Dishy a talking-to for it when he gets him alone.”Mr Reardon’s face was not visible to us, but we could see his movements, which were, so to speak, fidgety, for he began to walk up and down hastily, and once or twice I heard him mutter—“How could I be such a fool?”A dead chill had settled down upon the ship, and I felt as I stood there as if eight or nine years had suddenly dropped away from me—that I was a little child again, and that I should like to creep below somewhere out of sight, or sit down and cry and sob.For it was such a horrible lesson to me of the nearness of death, and I felt as if it was impossible for it all to be true—that it must be some terrible dream.And now for the first time it dawned upon me that I had a liking for the strange, simple-hearted Chinaman, who had always shown himself to be frank, honest, and brave in our service. He had been comic and peculiar, but always devoted to me as a faithful servant; and now, just too as I was joining in the mirth against him, instead of being indignant on behalf of one who had been insulted by the men’s horseplay, he was as it were snatched from life to death.I was brought back to the present by a voice at my ear—“Poor old Ching! I am sorry, Gnat.”“Yes, and so am I.”I had not seen my messmates all through the trouble, and now they appeared close to me in the darkness in a way which made me start.I turned to them, and I don’t know how it was, but as we three stood there in the darkness, which was hardly relieved by a lantern here and there, Barkins held out his hand and shook mine, holding it tightly without letting go. Directly after, Smith took my other hand to give it a warm, strong pressure; and then we three parted without a word more, Barkins going one way, Smith another, while I went to the stern rail and leaned my arms upon it, and then rested my chin upon my arms to gaze out over the rushing water at the two blue stars.But they were not there now. They had burned out some time before, and I could see nothing, only take it for granted that the boats were being slowly rowed back against the heavy tide, our anchor-lights acting as their guide.“Is it possible that they have found him after all?” I thought, and for a minute I was hopeful. But once more the hope died out, for I knew well enough that if they had picked the poor fellow up they would have cheered.
It was a great relief to us all to find that our visit to the Chinese prison had not been noticed. We of course kept silence about it, not even telling Mr Brooke, who was the most friendly of our officers, and we had the satisfaction of finding that Ching obeyed our orders, and kept his peace.
I used to be rather sorry for him, his position being so solitary on board. For he could not make himself at home with the sailors in the forecastle, and though as frank, good-hearted fellows as ever lived, they seemed to look upon him only in one way, that of being a butt for their sharp witticisms, an object upon whom they were to play practical jokes.
Consequently I used often, when I found him standing alone by the bulwarks watching the shore, to edge up to him, and stop to talk; our conversation being directed by me toward some little unpleasantry in the forecastle, which if he had complained about to the first lieutenant, there would have been a severe reprimand.
I remember one of these occasions, when Ching came flying up out of the hatch, followed by a roar of laughter, and as he reached the deck,clang-clangwent something against the sides of the hatch; but Ching paid no heed, running forward till he was right up by the side of the bowsprit.
I followed quickly, feeling angry on the man’s behalf.
“What’s the matter?” I cried. “What have they been doing?”
“No know,” he said rather pitifully, as he stood there trembling. “Done something. Thlow tin-kettle after.”
“But what for? What were you doing?”
“Doing? fass ’sleep, dleam ’bout big fly come and bite leg. Jump up and lun. Then thlow kettle after.”
“Here, let’s look,” I said; for as he shook his head there was the same hollow sound again, just like that made by a tin sheep-bell.
“Why, they’ve tied it to you,” I said sharply.
“Tie to Ching flock? Don’t matter. Not bess blue silkee.”
“Here, let me see,” I cried. “Turn round.”
He turned sharply, and something banged against the bulwark.
“What a shame!” I cried. “They’ve tied the old canister to your tail.”
“Tie canny all along Ching tow-chang?” he cried.
“Yes, and it’s a rascally shame.”
“Yes, allee lascally shame,” he said, nodding his head. “Not hurt velly. Only flighten velly much, makee lun fass.”
“Stand still, and I’ll soon have it off,” I cried, whipping out my knife.
“No, no,” he cried, dragging the long plait from my hand; “mightee cut tow-chang, and that velly dleadful. Take long time glow.”
“Very well, then. I’ll unfasten it, and show it to Mr Reardon.”
“What for? make Mis’ Leardon velly angly, scold jolly sailor boy. Then they not like Ching ’tall.”
“But it’s too bad; treating you just as if you were a dog.”
“Jolly sailor boy tie tin-pot dog tow-chang? No. Mr Hellick make laugh. Dog not got tow-chang.”
“No,” I said, trying very hard to get the pot off, “but dogs have got tails.”
“Yes, got tails. Don’t tellee, make no good. Didn’t hurt Ching.”
“But it’s an insult to you,” I said. “Any one would think they were a pack of boys.”
“Yes, jolly sailor boy. You no makee come off?”
“No,” I said. “They’ve made a big hole through the bottom of the canister, pushed the end of the tail—”
“Tow-chang.”
“Well, tow-chang, if you like to call it so—through into the inside, and then hammered the tin back round it and made it as fast as fast. Here, I shall have to cut it, Ching.”
“No, no,” he cried, seizing the canister. “No cuttee piece of tow-chang.”
“Then how are we to get it off?”
“Don’t know, Mr Hellick; look velly bad?”
“Horrible—absurd; every one will laugh at you.”
“Yes, velly bad. Ching put it in pocket.”
“Oh, you’re there, are you?” I cried, as Tom Jecks came cautiously on deck. “I should have thought that a man of your years would have known better than to help torment this poor Chinaman.”
“Not velly poor,” he whispered. “Ching got fancee shop. Plenty plize-money now.”
“Didn’t have nought to do with it,” growled Tom Jecks.
“Then who did, sir?”
“Dunno, sir; some o’ the boys. I was caulking till they wakened me wi’ laughing.”
“But you saw it done?”
“No, sir; it was all done aforehand. They’d turned his tail into a bull-roarer, and if you was to swing it round now like a windmill, it would make no end of a row.”
“Silence, sir,” I cried. “It’s disgraceful.”
“Lor’, sir, they on’y meant it for a bit of a lark.”
“Then they should lark among themselves, and not take advantage of a poor foreigner whom they ought to protect.”
“Yes, sir, that’s right enough. But he were asleep, and it didn’t hurt him till one on ’em stuck a pin in his leg to waken him up.”
“Ah!” I cried. “Who did?”
“Well, sir,” said Tom Jecks. “Now you do puzzle me above a bit. It was one o’ the lads, because the pin must have gone into his leg, for he squeaked out and then run up the ladder with the tin-pot banging about right and left, but who it was stuck that pin in, it were so dark that I couldn’t say.”
“You mean that you won’t say, Tom?”
“Well, sir, you’re orficer, and I’m on’y AB, and I shan’t contradict you; have it that way if you like.”
“I shall say no more, but we’ll see what Mr Reardon says when he hears about it.”
“Why, Mr Herrick, sir, yo’ wouldn’t go and tell upon the poor lads, would you? It were on’y a bit of a game, were it, Mr Ching?”
“No, only bit game,” said the Chinaman.
“There, you hear, sir. There wasn’t no bones broke.”
“Hold your tongue, sir.”
“Cert’n’y, sir.”
“And come here.”
Tom Jecks stepped forward obsequiously.
“Look, the tin sticks all round fast into the tail as if it were a rabbit trap.”
“Ay, sir, it do; and if I might say so, they managed it very cleverly.”
“Cleverly?”
“Yes, sir. If I’d been doing it, I should on’y have thought of tying it on with a bit o’ spun-yarn; but this here tin holds it wonderful tight.”
“How are we to get it off?”
“Oh, I can soon get it off,” cried Tom Jecks, who seemed to be imbued with the same notion as Alexander of old, who unsheathed his sword to cut the Gordian knot. For he hauled out his knife by the lanyard, opened the blade with his teeth, and took a step forward, but Ching held the canister behind him and dodged round me.
“Steady, my lad,” growled Tom Jecks, “it arn’t a operation. Stand by.”
“No, no, no!” shrieked Ching.
“Steady, my lad, I’ll soon have it off. I won’t cut down to the bone.”
“No, no!” cried Ching, who was excited and alarmed, and who now began chattering in his own tongue, allpang ang nong wong ong, and a series of guttural sounds, while I could do nothing for laughing, but had to stand like a post for Ching to dodge behind.
“Why don’t you stand by, messmate?” growled Tom Jecks. “You can’t go through life with that there tin-kettle tied to your tail. Fust one as see yer will be calling, ‘Mad dog.’”
By this time the watch had come to see what was going on, and I now began to feel sorry for the Chinaman.
“Here, Ching,” I said. “Come down below.”
But he was too much alarmed for the moment to listen to my words, expecting every moment as he was that some one would make a snatch at his tail, to obviate which accident he was now holding the canister tightly beneath his arm, and looking wildly round for a way to escape.
“Hadn’t we better have it took off, sir?” said Tom Jecks, and there was a roar of laughter. “Let’s ketch him and take him to the doctor.”
“No, no!” cried Ching, dodging round me again, for Tom Jecks, to the delight of the others, made a snatch at him.
“You’ll be a deal more comfortable, messmate—you know you will. Here, let’s have it?”
Tom Jecks made another snatch at him, but Ching avoided it, and to save him from further annoyance I too made a snatch.
Poor fellow, interpreter though he was, he misinterpreted my intentions. He tore away from my grasp and made a rush forward, but several men were coming in that direction, and he dashed back to find himself faced by Tom Jecks again. In his desperation he charged right at the sailor, lowering his head as he did so, and striking him with so much force that Tom Jecks went down sprawling, and Ching leaped over him.
There was no way open to him for escape, as it seemed, and he made a rush for the side, leaped up, was on the bulwarks in an instant, and made a snatch at the foremast shrouds as if to climb up into the rigging, when either his foot slipped or his long loose cotton jacket caught in something, I don’t know how it was, but one moment I saw him staggering, the next there was the terrible cry of “Man overboard” raised as I rushed toward the side, heard the splash, and got upon the bulwark in time to see the agitated water.
That was all.
It was rapidly getting dark, the tide was running swiftly seaward, and even if the Chinaman could swim it seemed very doubtful whether he could maintain himself long, hampered as he was by his loose clinging clothes.
But at the raising of the cry, “Man overboard,” there is not much time lost on board a man-of-war. A crew leaped into the boat; the falls were seized; and in a minute the keel touched the water, and I found myself, as I stood on the bulwark holding on by a rope, called upon to direct those who had gone.
“Which way, sir? See him?”
I could only answer no, and then reply to Mr Reardon, who came up panting.
“Who is it?” he cried. “Mr Herrick?”
“No, sir, I’m here,” I shouted. “It’s the interpreter.”
“And what business had he up on the hammock-rail?” roared the lieutenant as he climbed up there himself. “Steady, my lads, he can’t be far.”
At that moment there was a flash, and a brilliant blue-light burst out on the surface of the black water, sending a glare all round from where it floated on the trigger life-buoy, which had been detached and glided away astern, while directly after a second blue-light blazed out from the stern of the boat, showing the men dipping their oars lightly, and two forward and two astern shading their eyes and scanning the flashing and sparkling water.
“Can’t you see him?” roared the lieutenant.
“No, sir.”
We leaped downward, hurried right aft where the captain and the other officers were now gathered, and the orders were given for a second boat to be lowered and help to save the poor fellow.
“He ought to float, sir,” said Mr Reardon in answer to some remark from the captain. “He’s fat enough.”
Then he began shouting orders to the men to row to and fro; and my heart sank as I vainly searched the lit-up water, for there was no sign of the unfortunate Chinaman.
“What a horrible ending to a practical joke!” I thought, and a bitter feeling of disappointment assailed me, as I asked myself why I had not gone in the second boat to help save the poor fellow.
Perhaps it was vanity, but in those exciting moments I felt that if I had been there I might have seen him, for it never occurred to me that I had a far better chance of seeing him from my post of vantage high up on that quarter-deck rail.
“See him yet?”
“No, sir!”—“No, sir!”
The first hail loudly from close by, the other from far away where the blue-lights shone.
“Bless my soul!” cried Mr Reardon, with an angry stamp. “I can’t understand it. He must have come up again.”
“Unless his pockets were heavily laden,” said the captain, going to where Mr Reardon stood. “These men carry a great deal about them under their long loose clothes. Some heavy copper money, perhaps. A very little would be enough to keep a struggling man down.”
“Ha!” ejaculated Mr Reardon, while I shivered at the idea of poor old Ching coming to so terrible an end.
“A glass here!” cried Mr Reardon, and one was handed up to him.
“Try the life-buoy,” cried the captain.
“Bless me, sir, I was going to,” retorted the lieutenant irritably; “but the idiot who uses this glass ought to be turned out of the service for being short-sighted. I shall never get it to the right focus.”
The captain gave a dry cough, and I turned round sharply, expecting to hear some angry exclamation.
“No,” cried Mr Reardon, “he is not clinging to the life-buoy. I wouldn’t for anything that it should have happened. Poor fellow! Poor fellow!”
“Ay, poor fellow!” muttered Captain Thwaites. “Any use to lower another boat, Reardon?”
“No, sir, no,” cried the lieutenant, “or I would have had one down. Ahoy there!” he roared. “Light another blue!”
“Ay, ay, sir!” came from far away, for the tide ran hissing by our sides in full rush for the sea, and the third blue-light which blazed out looked smaller and smaller, while those of the first boat and the life-buoy began to show faint, and then all at once that on the buoy seemed to go out.
“That blue-light ought to have burned longer on the buoy,” cried Mr Reardon.
“They’ve picked up the buoy and laid it across the bows of the boat,” said Mr Brooke, who was watching through his night-glass, and at that moment the light blazed out again like a star.
And still the halos shed by the lights grew fainter and fainter. Then one light burned out, and the lieutenant stamped with anger, but there was no cause for his irritation. Another flashed out directly.
The boats were too far away now for us to see much of what was going on, the heads of the men growing blurred, but we saw that they were zig-zagging across the tide, and we listened in vain for the hail and the cheer that should accompany the words—
“Got him, sir!”
The buzz of conversation among the men, who clustered on deck, in the shrouds and tops, grew fainter, and I was thinking whether I was very much to blame, and if I could in any way have saved the poor fellow. Then I began thinking of the men in the forecastle, and their punishment for being the cause, in their boyish way of playing tricks, of the poor Chinaman’s death.
I wouldn’t be Tom Jecks for all the world, I muttered, and then I turned cold and shuddered, as the hope, faint though it was, of Ching being picked up went out like one of the lights that now disappeared; for Captain Thwaites said sadly—
“I’m afraid we must recall the boats, Mr Reardon.”
“Yes, sir,” said the lieutenant in a husky voice. “I don’t think any one is to blame about the attempt to save the poor fellow, sir. The life-buoy was let go, and the boat lowered promptly; the dishipline of the men was good.”
“Excellent, Mr Reardon. I have nothing to say there. It would have been better perhaps to have lowered down the second boat sooner. But I think we have done our best. Can you make them hear from this distance?”
“Yes, I think so; a voice will travel far over the smooth water on a still night like this. Shall I recall them?”
Captain Thwaites was silent for a full minute, and we all stood gazing aft at the faint stars on the black water, while to right and left were those that were more dim and distant, being the paper lanterns of the house-boats moored a short distance from the bank.
Then the captain spoke again, and his words re-illumined the parting light of hope which flashed up like an expiring flame.
“Do you think he has struck out straight for the shore?”
“He may have done so, sir,” replied Mr Reardon, as we all stood in a knot together on the quarter-deck, “but he could never have reached it.”
“Not in this mill-race of a tide!” said Captain Thwaites. “Recall the boats.”
But Mr Reardon made no sign. He stood there gazing through the night-glass for some moments, and the captain spoke again.
“Recall the boats, Mr Reardon.”
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said the lieutenant, with quite a start. “Aloft there! Who’s in the foretop?”
“Ay, ay, sir; Jecks, sir.”
I shivered.
“Hail the boats to come back.”
The man did not answer for a moment, and Mr Reardon made an angry gesture, but just then Tom Jecks, with his hands to his mouth, sent forth a hoarse deep-toned roar.
Then there was a pause and a faintly-heard hail came from far away, the zig-zagging movement of the boats ceased, and we saw one of them, that is to say one of the lights, glide slowly toward the other, till one was apparently only a short distance in front, and the other following.
“Let me know when the boats come alongside, Mr Reardon,” said the captain quietly.
“Yes, sir.”
“And, by the way, I’ll trouble you for my night-glass.”
Mr Reardon gave a violent start.
“Your night-glass, sir?” he said.
“Yes, mine; you borrowed it.”
The lieutenant handed the telescope without a word, and at another time we should all have had to turn away to smother the desire to burst out laughing, as we recalled the irritable remarks about the idiot to whom the glass belonged, and the wretchedness of his eyesight, coupled with an opinion that he ought to be dismissed the service.
But it was not a time for mirth: we were all too sad, and Barkins contented himself with whispering—
“I say, I’m jolly glad it wasn’t I who said that. Don’t the skipper take it coolly now? But he’ll give old Dishy a talking-to for it when he gets him alone.”
Mr Reardon’s face was not visible to us, but we could see his movements, which were, so to speak, fidgety, for he began to walk up and down hastily, and once or twice I heard him mutter—
“How could I be such a fool?”
A dead chill had settled down upon the ship, and I felt as I stood there as if eight or nine years had suddenly dropped away from me—that I was a little child again, and that I should like to creep below somewhere out of sight, or sit down and cry and sob.
For it was such a horrible lesson to me of the nearness of death, and I felt as if it was impossible for it all to be true—that it must be some terrible dream.
And now for the first time it dawned upon me that I had a liking for the strange, simple-hearted Chinaman, who had always shown himself to be frank, honest, and brave in our service. He had been comic and peculiar, but always devoted to me as a faithful servant; and now, just too as I was joining in the mirth against him, instead of being indignant on behalf of one who had been insulted by the men’s horseplay, he was as it were snatched from life to death.
I was brought back to the present by a voice at my ear—
“Poor old Ching! I am sorry, Gnat.”
“Yes, and so am I.”
I had not seen my messmates all through the trouble, and now they appeared close to me in the darkness in a way which made me start.
I turned to them, and I don’t know how it was, but as we three stood there in the darkness, which was hardly relieved by a lantern here and there, Barkins held out his hand and shook mine, holding it tightly without letting go. Directly after, Smith took my other hand to give it a warm, strong pressure; and then we three parted without a word more, Barkins going one way, Smith another, while I went to the stern rail and leaned my arms upon it, and then rested my chin upon my arms to gaze out over the rushing water at the two blue stars.
But they were not there now. They had burned out some time before, and I could see nothing, only take it for granted that the boats were being slowly rowed back against the heavy tide, our anchor-lights acting as their guide.
“Is it possible that they have found him after all?” I thought, and for a minute I was hopeful. But once more the hope died out, for I knew well enough that if they had picked the poor fellow up they would have cheered.