Chapter Twenty Nine.

Chapter Twenty Nine.A Good “Deal.”In the meantime, the fleet sailed away from the scene of action, after honourably burying the dead and destroying our sunken vessels; so that the Chinese, who had a weak habit at that time and in later years, too, of indulging in fiction when referring to their martial exploits, should not be able to boast of having captured our ships, theCandaharputting in at Hong Kong to refit later on, after visiting Shanghai again on leaving the Gulf of Pechili.Here Larkyns, who had succeeded poor Mr Stormcock in his office as caterer of the gunroom mess, distinguished himself, quite unwittingly, in a financial operation which gained him the credit of being a very “smart” fellow indeed in the sense in which our American cousins use the term; besides earning for himself the good opinion of all of us in the gunroom, whom he benefited by the exploit.It happened in this wise.Master Larkyns being ashore one day at Victoria, the chief town of Hong Kong, which is built up the side of a hill facing the harbour, noticing a lot of people collected round one of the merchant’s stores, asked naturally, midshipman like, “What the row was about?”He was told an auction was going on; so, in he went to see the fun, taking much interest in the biddings.Presently, a hogshead of claret was put up by the auctioneer, and, thinking this a good opportunity for laying in a stock for the mess, as we would be in commission probably in warm latitudes, for the next two or three years, when the wine would come in rather handy, Larkyns listened eagerly for the price and heard it offered at 12 pounds.This seemed a big sum, but, if the worst came to the worst, and his messmates grumbled at his extravagance, he thought, he could pay for it out of his own pocket, he thought; and so, in his impetuous way, he bid 12 pounds, 10 shillings, without waiting for anyone to make an offer, which no one doing, his sudden jump having paralysed the brokers present, to his great surprise and joy the wine was knocked down to him at the price he named.By-and-by, however, his joy was changed to grief; for, the auctioneer asked him for a cheque or a reference, when he found out that, instead of buying a single hogshead of claret, as he believed to be the case on bidding for it, he had purchased a whole consignment of the wine, of which the single specimen offered had been a sample—the transaction involved the outlay of more than 1500 pounds, which of course he could never pay, although he had the 12 pounds, 10 shillings he had offered, and a few pounds more in his pocket as well.Here was a pretty to-do; and, he was just wondering whether he should solve the Gordian knot by cutting and running, when, luckily, a man without a hat rushed in breathlessly from a neighbouring store, and coming up to the auctioneer, asked him if the wine was sold yet.“You’re a bit too late,” replied the master of the rostrum, pointing out Larkyns to his astonished gaze. “I have just knocked it down to this gentleman.”“Indeed!” exclaimed the stranger. “At what?”“Twelve pounds, ten shillings.”“Ah, that all?” cried the hatless individual; and, turning to Larkyns, he said with an entreating air, “I’ll give you an advance of ten shillings a hogshead if you let me have it.”Our caterer was quite bewildered.“I don’t mind,” he said at last, looking from the auctioneer to the stranger and back again to his creditor, who stood waiting for the 1500 pound cheque. “That is, if this gentleman here is satisfied.”“Oh, that’s all right,” said the auctioneer. “I know Mr —, and his word is as good as his bond. He’ll give you the difference between your bid and his present offer, and you’ll gain something by the deal.”“By Jove!” cried Larkyns. “I never thought of that, but I wanted some wine for the mess.”“I daresay we can manage that,” said the buyer, evidently pleased with his bargain, though had he known of my friend’s mistake in time before he made his offer he might not have been so generous. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I will give you 50 pounds to take over the consignment, and a cask of the wine into the bargain.”This Master Larkyns readily agreed to, as may be well imagined; and the upshot of the affair was, that our mess funds were 50 pounds richer by this visit of Larkyns to the auction rooms.This enabled us to live “like fighting cocks” while we remained in port; and when the wardroom officers chanced to pay us a visit, which I noticed they more frequently did now than formerly, we were able to offer them a glass of claret, which was rather a novelty in those days in the gunroom mess.After refitting, we went for a cruise to the East Indies, where we found the new admiral who had come out to replace Admiral Hope; and, in the spring of the following year, having served for eighteen months as a naval cadet, I was promoted to the rank of midshipman, the captain and first lieutenant, having convinced themselves of my competency by asking me how I would manage to get a six-pounder to the top of a perpendicular hill, my answer to which question was that I would head it up in a cask and “parbuckle” it up.“Glass-eye” smiled rather quizzingly at this, requesting to know what sort of cask I would employ. I settled him at once, however, by saying that a claret cask would do; there having been a joke current of his coming to see how the gunroom was getting on about luncheon time, at the time our wine cellar had been so sumptuously replenished by Larkyns, who, by the way, got his step to acting mate the same month that I was made midshipman.

In the meantime, the fleet sailed away from the scene of action, after honourably burying the dead and destroying our sunken vessels; so that the Chinese, who had a weak habit at that time and in later years, too, of indulging in fiction when referring to their martial exploits, should not be able to boast of having captured our ships, theCandaharputting in at Hong Kong to refit later on, after visiting Shanghai again on leaving the Gulf of Pechili.

Here Larkyns, who had succeeded poor Mr Stormcock in his office as caterer of the gunroom mess, distinguished himself, quite unwittingly, in a financial operation which gained him the credit of being a very “smart” fellow indeed in the sense in which our American cousins use the term; besides earning for himself the good opinion of all of us in the gunroom, whom he benefited by the exploit.

It happened in this wise.

Master Larkyns being ashore one day at Victoria, the chief town of Hong Kong, which is built up the side of a hill facing the harbour, noticing a lot of people collected round one of the merchant’s stores, asked naturally, midshipman like, “What the row was about?”

He was told an auction was going on; so, in he went to see the fun, taking much interest in the biddings.

Presently, a hogshead of claret was put up by the auctioneer, and, thinking this a good opportunity for laying in a stock for the mess, as we would be in commission probably in warm latitudes, for the next two or three years, when the wine would come in rather handy, Larkyns listened eagerly for the price and heard it offered at 12 pounds.

This seemed a big sum, but, if the worst came to the worst, and his messmates grumbled at his extravagance, he thought, he could pay for it out of his own pocket, he thought; and so, in his impetuous way, he bid 12 pounds, 10 shillings, without waiting for anyone to make an offer, which no one doing, his sudden jump having paralysed the brokers present, to his great surprise and joy the wine was knocked down to him at the price he named.

By-and-by, however, his joy was changed to grief; for, the auctioneer asked him for a cheque or a reference, when he found out that, instead of buying a single hogshead of claret, as he believed to be the case on bidding for it, he had purchased a whole consignment of the wine, of which the single specimen offered had been a sample—the transaction involved the outlay of more than 1500 pounds, which of course he could never pay, although he had the 12 pounds, 10 shillings he had offered, and a few pounds more in his pocket as well.

Here was a pretty to-do; and, he was just wondering whether he should solve the Gordian knot by cutting and running, when, luckily, a man without a hat rushed in breathlessly from a neighbouring store, and coming up to the auctioneer, asked him if the wine was sold yet.

“You’re a bit too late,” replied the master of the rostrum, pointing out Larkyns to his astonished gaze. “I have just knocked it down to this gentleman.”

“Indeed!” exclaimed the stranger. “At what?”

“Twelve pounds, ten shillings.”

“Ah, that all?” cried the hatless individual; and, turning to Larkyns, he said with an entreating air, “I’ll give you an advance of ten shillings a hogshead if you let me have it.”

Our caterer was quite bewildered.

“I don’t mind,” he said at last, looking from the auctioneer to the stranger and back again to his creditor, who stood waiting for the 1500 pound cheque. “That is, if this gentleman here is satisfied.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” said the auctioneer. “I know Mr —, and his word is as good as his bond. He’ll give you the difference between your bid and his present offer, and you’ll gain something by the deal.”

“By Jove!” cried Larkyns. “I never thought of that, but I wanted some wine for the mess.”

“I daresay we can manage that,” said the buyer, evidently pleased with his bargain, though had he known of my friend’s mistake in time before he made his offer he might not have been so generous. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I will give you 50 pounds to take over the consignment, and a cask of the wine into the bargain.”

This Master Larkyns readily agreed to, as may be well imagined; and the upshot of the affair was, that our mess funds were 50 pounds richer by this visit of Larkyns to the auction rooms.

This enabled us to live “like fighting cocks” while we remained in port; and when the wardroom officers chanced to pay us a visit, which I noticed they more frequently did now than formerly, we were able to offer them a glass of claret, which was rather a novelty in those days in the gunroom mess.

After refitting, we went for a cruise to the East Indies, where we found the new admiral who had come out to replace Admiral Hope; and, in the spring of the following year, having served for eighteen months as a naval cadet, I was promoted to the rank of midshipman, the captain and first lieutenant, having convinced themselves of my competency by asking me how I would manage to get a six-pounder to the top of a perpendicular hill, my answer to which question was that I would head it up in a cask and “parbuckle” it up.

“Glass-eye” smiled rather quizzingly at this, requesting to know what sort of cask I would employ. I settled him at once, however, by saying that a claret cask would do; there having been a joke current of his coming to see how the gunroom was getting on about luncheon time, at the time our wine cellar had been so sumptuously replenished by Larkyns, who, by the way, got his step to acting mate the same month that I was made midshipman.

Chapter Thirty.In a Bamboo Cage.During the interval that had elapsed since our defeat in front of the Taku Forts, to proceed now to more stirring events, the English and French Governments had been organising a joint expedition against China; to demand an apology for the treatment their respective representatives had received, and insist on the stipulations of the historical Treaty of Tientsin being practically, and not merely formally, adhered to.By the middle of the year 1860, the ten thousand men that comprised the English contingent, under the leadership of Sir Hope Grant, had assembled at Chusan, all ready for the campaign.They were not joined here by the French under General Montauban, who mustered only seven thousand bayonets, until some weeks later, our allies being very dilatory in their movements.On the 1st August, this imposing force, a joint army seventeen thousand strong, which was conveyed up the Gulf of Pechili in no less a number than a hundred and twenty transports, escorted by the French and English fleets, that totalled over ninety sail, landed at Pahtang, some ten miles to the north of the Peiho river. Here, their disembarkation was not interfered with, our old friends the Chinese expecting us to make another assault on the Taku Forts, that had before repulsed us, which they had rendered much stronger in the months that had since elapsed.But “once bitten twice shy” was our motto; and, by making a march across country, we defeated a large army, mainly composed of Tartar cavalry, on the way, our redcoats, in company with the battalions of Monsieur Pantalou, made short work of the Chinese “braves.”The advance of the allies, indeed, was like a triumphal march; for we reached the rear of the Taku Forts on the night of the 20th August and took the formidable works by storm on the following morning, putting the defenders to flight and revenging our bloody defeat a year and two months after that tragic event.The English and French forces then pursued their victorious march towards Tientsin, with the intention of penetrating to the capital of the emperor, should their just demands not be conceded without any further delay, as well as a heavy indemnity paid for the expense we had been put to by the evasions and treachery of the Manchurian monarch; but, I am not able to speak of my own knowledge of the further progress of the expedition after they had blown up the old forts and thrown open the entrance to the Peiho.An adventure happened to me, which not only prevented me from sharing in the campaign, but very nearly put a stop to any possibility of my ever telling this yarn.This adventure I will now relate. As soon as the obstructions across the mouth of the river, which had previously foiled us, had been removed by working parties of sailors from the fleet, several gunboats went up to Tientsin by water to make provision for the arrival of the main body who were marching thither by land; and, amongst other officers of theCandahar, Ned Anstruther and I were detailed for this duty, proceeding to the port in question with a battery of artillery and military stores, which we had to see to the landing of near the close of the month.Ned and I were glad of the outing, besides escaping from the routine of the ship, and when we got to Tientsin we strolled about having a look round at the queer-looking shops and shanties, the like of which we had never seen before.Presently we got to some tea-gardens, where a funny old man, with a yellow hat and a pigtail the size of a small hawser, accosted us.By signs he invited us to enter a rather nice-looking building, built just like one of those little pagodas resembling card-houses that you see in the right-hand corner of a willow-pattern plate.“What a rum old joker!” exclaimed Ned, as the old fellow came up to us. “Chin, chin, Johnny, what you wantchee, no stoppee can do.”I laughed at Ned’s “pijin English,” which the Chinaman evidently did not understand: but he bowed courteously and smiled very amiably, throwing open the door of the card-house in such a pressingly hospitable way all the while that I could not stand out any longer.“Hang it all, Ned!” said I, “let us go in. An old chap like that can’t do us any harm; and, besides, we’ve got the cutter’s crew within hail!”“All right, old chap,” replied Ned, taking the old fellow’s arm and leading the way in, while I followed him. “Here goes.”The moment, however, that we had entered the flimsy-looking building the door was quickly slammed-to behind us; while a gang of ruffians of the same kidney as the treacherous old scoundrelwho had beguiled us, threw Ned and myself on the ground and gagged and pinioned us like a pair of trussed fowls, before we could call out or make a single movement in our own defence.When they saw that we were properly secured, our uniforms were torn off our backs and a couple of blue cotton shirts, such as the Chinese coolies wear, pulled over our shoulders, as a sort of disguise. An ugly old pith hat, of the shape of a mushroom, was then jammed down on the tops of our unfortunate heads; and we looked at one another in wonder as to what would come next.We were not long in suspense.The old chap, who was evidently a person of authority, shouted out some loud order or other, which sounded more like a pig grunting under a gate than any language I had previously heard spoken, there being a strong swinish flavour in the Chinese lingo, as about their fields, which Ned Anstruther and I had smelt coming along on our unlucky walk!He had evidently given some order to the attendants; for, no sooner had he finished grunting than a couple of rum things somewhat like the palanquins I had seen when at Bombay, were brought in and put down in front of us.They were, really, cages made of bamboo, and which only criminals are confined in, as I afterwards found out.Into these, Ned and I were thrust separately, one in each.We were then lifted up by the poles attached to our novel sort of conveyance, two men carrying mine and two more lifting Ned’s “trap”—I know I felt very much like what a mouse does when caught in one, for I was caged with a vengeance—they trotted off with us, through a back door, and then along a wide, country road, I knew not whither!

During the interval that had elapsed since our defeat in front of the Taku Forts, to proceed now to more stirring events, the English and French Governments had been organising a joint expedition against China; to demand an apology for the treatment their respective representatives had received, and insist on the stipulations of the historical Treaty of Tientsin being practically, and not merely formally, adhered to.

By the middle of the year 1860, the ten thousand men that comprised the English contingent, under the leadership of Sir Hope Grant, had assembled at Chusan, all ready for the campaign.

They were not joined here by the French under General Montauban, who mustered only seven thousand bayonets, until some weeks later, our allies being very dilatory in their movements.

On the 1st August, this imposing force, a joint army seventeen thousand strong, which was conveyed up the Gulf of Pechili in no less a number than a hundred and twenty transports, escorted by the French and English fleets, that totalled over ninety sail, landed at Pahtang, some ten miles to the north of the Peiho river. Here, their disembarkation was not interfered with, our old friends the Chinese expecting us to make another assault on the Taku Forts, that had before repulsed us, which they had rendered much stronger in the months that had since elapsed.

But “once bitten twice shy” was our motto; and, by making a march across country, we defeated a large army, mainly composed of Tartar cavalry, on the way, our redcoats, in company with the battalions of Monsieur Pantalou, made short work of the Chinese “braves.”

The advance of the allies, indeed, was like a triumphal march; for we reached the rear of the Taku Forts on the night of the 20th August and took the formidable works by storm on the following morning, putting the defenders to flight and revenging our bloody defeat a year and two months after that tragic event.

The English and French forces then pursued their victorious march towards Tientsin, with the intention of penetrating to the capital of the emperor, should their just demands not be conceded without any further delay, as well as a heavy indemnity paid for the expense we had been put to by the evasions and treachery of the Manchurian monarch; but, I am not able to speak of my own knowledge of the further progress of the expedition after they had blown up the old forts and thrown open the entrance to the Peiho.

An adventure happened to me, which not only prevented me from sharing in the campaign, but very nearly put a stop to any possibility of my ever telling this yarn.

This adventure I will now relate. As soon as the obstructions across the mouth of the river, which had previously foiled us, had been removed by working parties of sailors from the fleet, several gunboats went up to Tientsin by water to make provision for the arrival of the main body who were marching thither by land; and, amongst other officers of theCandahar, Ned Anstruther and I were detailed for this duty, proceeding to the port in question with a battery of artillery and military stores, which we had to see to the landing of near the close of the month.

Ned and I were glad of the outing, besides escaping from the routine of the ship, and when we got to Tientsin we strolled about having a look round at the queer-looking shops and shanties, the like of which we had never seen before.

Presently we got to some tea-gardens, where a funny old man, with a yellow hat and a pigtail the size of a small hawser, accosted us.

By signs he invited us to enter a rather nice-looking building, built just like one of those little pagodas resembling card-houses that you see in the right-hand corner of a willow-pattern plate.

“What a rum old joker!” exclaimed Ned, as the old fellow came up to us. “Chin, chin, Johnny, what you wantchee, no stoppee can do.”

I laughed at Ned’s “pijin English,” which the Chinaman evidently did not understand: but he bowed courteously and smiled very amiably, throwing open the door of the card-house in such a pressingly hospitable way all the while that I could not stand out any longer.

“Hang it all, Ned!” said I, “let us go in. An old chap like that can’t do us any harm; and, besides, we’ve got the cutter’s crew within hail!”

“All right, old chap,” replied Ned, taking the old fellow’s arm and leading the way in, while I followed him. “Here goes.”

The moment, however, that we had entered the flimsy-looking building the door was quickly slammed-to behind us; while a gang of ruffians of the same kidney as the treacherous old scoundrelwho had beguiled us, threw Ned and myself on the ground and gagged and pinioned us like a pair of trussed fowls, before we could call out or make a single movement in our own defence.

When they saw that we were properly secured, our uniforms were torn off our backs and a couple of blue cotton shirts, such as the Chinese coolies wear, pulled over our shoulders, as a sort of disguise. An ugly old pith hat, of the shape of a mushroom, was then jammed down on the tops of our unfortunate heads; and we looked at one another in wonder as to what would come next.

We were not long in suspense.

The old chap, who was evidently a person of authority, shouted out some loud order or other, which sounded more like a pig grunting under a gate than any language I had previously heard spoken, there being a strong swinish flavour in the Chinese lingo, as about their fields, which Ned Anstruther and I had smelt coming along on our unlucky walk!

He had evidently given some order to the attendants; for, no sooner had he finished grunting than a couple of rum things somewhat like the palanquins I had seen when at Bombay, were brought in and put down in front of us.

They were, really, cages made of bamboo, and which only criminals are confined in, as I afterwards found out.

Into these, Ned and I were thrust separately, one in each.

We were then lifted up by the poles attached to our novel sort of conveyance, two men carrying mine and two more lifting Ned’s “trap”—I know I felt very much like what a mouse does when caught in one, for I was caged with a vengeance—they trotted off with us, through a back door, and then along a wide, country road, I knew not whither!

Chapter Thirty One.“One Piecee can do!”We could not talk together, for the very good reason that our mouths were gagged, nor could we see each other now, poor consolation as that would have been; although possibly a friendly wink from Ned might have cheered me up a bit under the circumstances, the idea preying on my mind that it was owing to my fault in persuading him to enter into the treacherous ambuscade that we had been thus entrapped.But whatever Anstruther’s reflections might have been I had no means of knowing, as our bearers trotted onwards with his bamboo palanquin abreast of mine, both of our craft making good headway; the artful, yellow-hatted old scoundrel who had so successfully planned our capture bringing up the rear of the procession and grunting away at a fine rate behind.He was mounted on a diminutive pony, which he straddled in a clumsy fashion, his legs almost touching the ground; while a parasol he held aloft in one hand nearly poked my eyes out when he came up every now and then alongside my cage, to see that I was there all right and had not wriggled out of my bonds since his last inspection.If I could not speak, like the monkeys in the Zoological Gardens, I thought the more; all sorts of curious fancies continually coming into my head as we were thus borne along.For one thing, I was not in the least frightened about my fate; for, as the old chap had not killed us at the first start off, it occurred to me that he had merely taken us prisoners with the view of getting a heavy ransom for us by-and-by, being led to the belief that we might be important personages on account of his seeing us followed after we landed from the gunboat, by the cutter’s crew.Our stalwart bluejackets appeared to his little, rat eyes, no doubt, like the retinue of a mandarin with a peacock’s feather in his tail at the least; and this impression had, probably, been confirmed by the fact of our being such young fellows, which was a proof of what “big” men we would be when grown-up! Thinking this, I was in no ways alarmed. On the contrary, I chuckled greatly when I recollected what a widely different value the captain or first lieutenant would attach to a couple of harum-scarum midshipmen to the estimation in which this wily old kidnapper evidently held us; glorying in the great sell awaiting him when he came in his bland innocence to exchange our poor carcases for hard cash!This anticipation so pleased me, that I began to interest myself in the scenes through which we passed to our as yet unknown destination.The one great drawback to my enjoyment of this amusement was that there was precious little to look at, the country being fiat and dreary in the extreme, and consisting apparently of an endless plain, dotted here and there with heaps of earth, like mud-pies magnified, with the black Peiho serpentining through it in its snake-like curves.Such are the surroundings of Tientsin, which means “A heavenly spot!”Burying places we met with at regular intervals, for we could easily tell what they were from the ends of the square box coffins peeping out of the soil that only half covered them, while the bones of the departed frequently covered the earthy track our conductors traversed, which it would have been a vile libel to have called a road.Occasionally, we came near a collection of huts, with conical roofs resembling the form of the extinguisher usually employed in connection with a bedroom candlestick.“Yellow hat,” however, would not allow the palanquin bearers to stop at any of these villages, as I supposed the huts represented, our procession not coming to a halt until late in the afternoon; when, on arriving at a place which, in addition to these huts had a pagoda or josshouse, the old rascal grunted a little louder than usual to our bearers and they set down our cages in front of a card-house of the same description as that at Tientsin where we had been so nicely “taken in and done for,” as Macan would have expressed it in his Irish vernacular.The gags were then dragged, in no very gentle way, from our mouths, and our hands and feet untied, and the leader of the party, in a more pig-like squeak than ever, ordered us to come out of our very uncomfortable quarters.We thought he meant this at least, from the violent gesticulations he made, waving his arms wildly and hopping about as if he were a parched pea on a griddle; for, of course, we could not make out his gibberish though he squealed and grunted at us at a fine rate!“I suppose he means us to get out,” said Ned Anstruther, glad to be able to use his tongue again; “but I can’t, I’m so cramped.”“Nor can I, old fellow,” I rejoined. “I’m as stiff as a boiled lobster and couldn’t move to salute the admiral if he came along.”“I wish to goodness he would,” cried Ned. “Ay, and with a file of marines at his back, too. Wouldn’t I like to shoot this treacherous old scoundrel, ay, or string him up to the top of that pagoda there!”“So would I too, Ned,” I replied heartily. “But, I don’t think the yellow rascal means us any harm; at all events, not at present, old fellow. See, he’s actually getting us something to eat, I think.”“Some nasty mess or other, no doubt,” growled Ned, chafing one of his legs and then stretching it out. “By Jove, though, I’m beginning to get some life in my limbs again, but these blessed cords they tied us with stopped my circulation. Here goes!”So saying, he made an attempt to scramble up, and the old fellow, who had approached us with a big bowl of rice in both hands, put this down on the ground and gave my companion a lift, afterwards extending the same courtesy to myself.We then stretched our cramped legs a bit; and, presently, sat down on the outside of our bamboo cages, instead of inside them, being comparatively free.But, from the way in which the bearers who had carried us, and some other fellows with bows and arrows and broad-bladed knives in their belts, closed round us at the word of command from “yellow hat,” we would have fared ill had we attempted just then to give him and his retainers “leg-bail.”We saw this at a glance; so, making the best of a bad business, we commenced pegging into the rice the old fellow now handed us, which we did not find at all bad eating.It was very well cooked, and besides had a bit of salt fish of some sort on the top of the bowl, which we smelt at intervals, being too small to bite, so as to make the main contents of the dish more appetising.“Not bad,” commented Ned, after taking a preliminary mouthful of it for a taste, delving out the rice with his fingers, no spoon or fork being provided, and the chopsticksà la Chinoisefurnished with the bowl being useless to us from our not being accustomed to their proper manipulation. “Better served up, too, than we ever got on board!”“Yes; I’ve tasted worse,” said I. “They’ve cut us rather short with the fish, though, Ned. I think they might have served out enough for a fellow to put his teeth through.”“Perhaps the old chap can’t afford it, you know, Jack; and yet, he doesn’t look badly off. That hat of his would fetch something in an old curio shop, and so would his breeches too. By Jove, they’re big and baggy enough for a Dutchman twice his size.”At this we both laughed, whereupon the old chap, thinking we did so in high appreciation of his viands, smiled and nodded, patting his fat stomach and saying in his guttural tones, “Bono, Johnny, goot—goot!”“By Jove!” exclaimed Ned, quite startled. “You speak English?”“Mi one piecee can do,” replied the other, with a broader smile that made him look quite venerable, the deceitful old wretch! “No goodee number one chop!”“Oh, you can speak it well enough,” replied Ned, as our friend said this in “Pijin English,” implying that although he could manage a little of our language he was not a first-rater at it. “What wantchee can do, my one two?”Ned pointed at the same time towards me, and then indicated himself, requesting in this idiotic jargon to be informed of our fate.“Yellow hat’s” reply was not of a reassuring character, although he uttered no word. What he did was, to draw the forefinger of his dirty hand across his throat in the most unpleasant manner.Ned shuddered at this; and, I confess, so did I. Seeing the effect his gesture had produced, the old chap, smiling affably, proceeded to justify the extreme course he had suggested.“Yang-kei-tze catchee one Chinaman, one piecee shootee chop chop,” he argued, on the retaliatory principle, which, of course, held good in war, although no comfort to us at the moment. “Chinaman one piecee catchee Yang-kei-tze, mi takee Pekin.”“And what will be done with us there?” The old scoundrel answered this question in the same mode as before; his action being if possible even more expressive.“I say, Ned, show him a dollar or two,” I said, not liking his humbly suggestive way of stating that we were going to be taken to Pekin and there beheaded—at least that was what I gathered from the conversation. “Perhaps he’ll be open to silver reason if we argue on the other side of the question?”Ned pulled a handful of money out of his pocket, at the sight of which the old chap’s little eyes glistened and he smiled more genially; but, he shook his head.“No one piecee take can do,” he said sorrowfully, as if it went to his heart to refuse it. “Talkee, talkee no bono, mi takee Pekin chop chop, Yang-kei-tze catchee one piecee by by.”He then turned away to give some order to the men, and Ned seized the opportunity of his being out of earshot to speak to me.“I think he’s open to argument, Jack,” he said encouragingly, seeing I looked rather glum at the prospect before us now, although I had been so light-hearted before, not thinking things were going to turn out so badly as they now appeared. “The old chap, as you can see for yourself, with all those soldiers about him, must keep up his reputation as a bloodthirsty foe to all foreigners; or else, he’d lose his billet as a mandarin and have that rum old tile of his taken from him! But, he tipped me a wink, Jack; didn’t you see him? That means business, and tells me as plain as a pikestaff that he’s open to be bribed to get us off by-and-by, although he is forced to take us first to Pekin. They want as many of us as they can catch, you know, to show to their blessed emperor as a proof of their having licked us again, and ‘wiped out’ all the red devils—that’s what Yangkei-tze, means, ‘red devils,’ though it sounds very like Yankee! Ain’t that so, old chappie, and don’t you agree?”He jingled the money which he still held in his hand, addressing his last remark to our friend “yellow hat,” who had approached us again after conferring with his men; and, catching the sound, he nodded his head and gave Ned a perceptible wink, as if he thoroughly understood what he had said, and would be our friend—for a consideration!The bearers then coming up, the old chap motioned us to take our places in the bamboo cages, although he did not offer to gag or bind us again; when, on our being seated, our travelling prisons were raised to the men’s shoulders and we resumed our journey.

We could not talk together, for the very good reason that our mouths were gagged, nor could we see each other now, poor consolation as that would have been; although possibly a friendly wink from Ned might have cheered me up a bit under the circumstances, the idea preying on my mind that it was owing to my fault in persuading him to enter into the treacherous ambuscade that we had been thus entrapped.

But whatever Anstruther’s reflections might have been I had no means of knowing, as our bearers trotted onwards with his bamboo palanquin abreast of mine, both of our craft making good headway; the artful, yellow-hatted old scoundrel who had so successfully planned our capture bringing up the rear of the procession and grunting away at a fine rate behind.

He was mounted on a diminutive pony, which he straddled in a clumsy fashion, his legs almost touching the ground; while a parasol he held aloft in one hand nearly poked my eyes out when he came up every now and then alongside my cage, to see that I was there all right and had not wriggled out of my bonds since his last inspection.

If I could not speak, like the monkeys in the Zoological Gardens, I thought the more; all sorts of curious fancies continually coming into my head as we were thus borne along.

For one thing, I was not in the least frightened about my fate; for, as the old chap had not killed us at the first start off, it occurred to me that he had merely taken us prisoners with the view of getting a heavy ransom for us by-and-by, being led to the belief that we might be important personages on account of his seeing us followed after we landed from the gunboat, by the cutter’s crew.

Our stalwart bluejackets appeared to his little, rat eyes, no doubt, like the retinue of a mandarin with a peacock’s feather in his tail at the least; and this impression had, probably, been confirmed by the fact of our being such young fellows, which was a proof of what “big” men we would be when grown-up! Thinking this, I was in no ways alarmed. On the contrary, I chuckled greatly when I recollected what a widely different value the captain or first lieutenant would attach to a couple of harum-scarum midshipmen to the estimation in which this wily old kidnapper evidently held us; glorying in the great sell awaiting him when he came in his bland innocence to exchange our poor carcases for hard cash!

This anticipation so pleased me, that I began to interest myself in the scenes through which we passed to our as yet unknown destination.

The one great drawback to my enjoyment of this amusement was that there was precious little to look at, the country being fiat and dreary in the extreme, and consisting apparently of an endless plain, dotted here and there with heaps of earth, like mud-pies magnified, with the black Peiho serpentining through it in its snake-like curves.

Such are the surroundings of Tientsin, which means “A heavenly spot!”

Burying places we met with at regular intervals, for we could easily tell what they were from the ends of the square box coffins peeping out of the soil that only half covered them, while the bones of the departed frequently covered the earthy track our conductors traversed, which it would have been a vile libel to have called a road.

Occasionally, we came near a collection of huts, with conical roofs resembling the form of the extinguisher usually employed in connection with a bedroom candlestick.

“Yellow hat,” however, would not allow the palanquin bearers to stop at any of these villages, as I supposed the huts represented, our procession not coming to a halt until late in the afternoon; when, on arriving at a place which, in addition to these huts had a pagoda or josshouse, the old rascal grunted a little louder than usual to our bearers and they set down our cages in front of a card-house of the same description as that at Tientsin where we had been so nicely “taken in and done for,” as Macan would have expressed it in his Irish vernacular.

The gags were then dragged, in no very gentle way, from our mouths, and our hands and feet untied, and the leader of the party, in a more pig-like squeak than ever, ordered us to come out of our very uncomfortable quarters.

We thought he meant this at least, from the violent gesticulations he made, waving his arms wildly and hopping about as if he were a parched pea on a griddle; for, of course, we could not make out his gibberish though he squealed and grunted at us at a fine rate!

“I suppose he means us to get out,” said Ned Anstruther, glad to be able to use his tongue again; “but I can’t, I’m so cramped.”

“Nor can I, old fellow,” I rejoined. “I’m as stiff as a boiled lobster and couldn’t move to salute the admiral if he came along.”

“I wish to goodness he would,” cried Ned. “Ay, and with a file of marines at his back, too. Wouldn’t I like to shoot this treacherous old scoundrel, ay, or string him up to the top of that pagoda there!”

“So would I too, Ned,” I replied heartily. “But, I don’t think the yellow rascal means us any harm; at all events, not at present, old fellow. See, he’s actually getting us something to eat, I think.”

“Some nasty mess or other, no doubt,” growled Ned, chafing one of his legs and then stretching it out. “By Jove, though, I’m beginning to get some life in my limbs again, but these blessed cords they tied us with stopped my circulation. Here goes!”

So saying, he made an attempt to scramble up, and the old fellow, who had approached us with a big bowl of rice in both hands, put this down on the ground and gave my companion a lift, afterwards extending the same courtesy to myself.

We then stretched our cramped legs a bit; and, presently, sat down on the outside of our bamboo cages, instead of inside them, being comparatively free.

But, from the way in which the bearers who had carried us, and some other fellows with bows and arrows and broad-bladed knives in their belts, closed round us at the word of command from “yellow hat,” we would have fared ill had we attempted just then to give him and his retainers “leg-bail.”

We saw this at a glance; so, making the best of a bad business, we commenced pegging into the rice the old fellow now handed us, which we did not find at all bad eating.

It was very well cooked, and besides had a bit of salt fish of some sort on the top of the bowl, which we smelt at intervals, being too small to bite, so as to make the main contents of the dish more appetising.

“Not bad,” commented Ned, after taking a preliminary mouthful of it for a taste, delving out the rice with his fingers, no spoon or fork being provided, and the chopsticksà la Chinoisefurnished with the bowl being useless to us from our not being accustomed to their proper manipulation. “Better served up, too, than we ever got on board!”

“Yes; I’ve tasted worse,” said I. “They’ve cut us rather short with the fish, though, Ned. I think they might have served out enough for a fellow to put his teeth through.”

“Perhaps the old chap can’t afford it, you know, Jack; and yet, he doesn’t look badly off. That hat of his would fetch something in an old curio shop, and so would his breeches too. By Jove, they’re big and baggy enough for a Dutchman twice his size.”

At this we both laughed, whereupon the old chap, thinking we did so in high appreciation of his viands, smiled and nodded, patting his fat stomach and saying in his guttural tones, “Bono, Johnny, goot—goot!”

“By Jove!” exclaimed Ned, quite startled. “You speak English?”

“Mi one piecee can do,” replied the other, with a broader smile that made him look quite venerable, the deceitful old wretch! “No goodee number one chop!”

“Oh, you can speak it well enough,” replied Ned, as our friend said this in “Pijin English,” implying that although he could manage a little of our language he was not a first-rater at it. “What wantchee can do, my one two?”

Ned pointed at the same time towards me, and then indicated himself, requesting in this idiotic jargon to be informed of our fate.

“Yellow hat’s” reply was not of a reassuring character, although he uttered no word. What he did was, to draw the forefinger of his dirty hand across his throat in the most unpleasant manner.

Ned shuddered at this; and, I confess, so did I. Seeing the effect his gesture had produced, the old chap, smiling affably, proceeded to justify the extreme course he had suggested.

“Yang-kei-tze catchee one Chinaman, one piecee shootee chop chop,” he argued, on the retaliatory principle, which, of course, held good in war, although no comfort to us at the moment. “Chinaman one piecee catchee Yang-kei-tze, mi takee Pekin.”

“And what will be done with us there?” The old scoundrel answered this question in the same mode as before; his action being if possible even more expressive.

“I say, Ned, show him a dollar or two,” I said, not liking his humbly suggestive way of stating that we were going to be taken to Pekin and there beheaded—at least that was what I gathered from the conversation. “Perhaps he’ll be open to silver reason if we argue on the other side of the question?”

Ned pulled a handful of money out of his pocket, at the sight of which the old chap’s little eyes glistened and he smiled more genially; but, he shook his head.

“No one piecee take can do,” he said sorrowfully, as if it went to his heart to refuse it. “Talkee, talkee no bono, mi takee Pekin chop chop, Yang-kei-tze catchee one piecee by by.”

He then turned away to give some order to the men, and Ned seized the opportunity of his being out of earshot to speak to me.

“I think he’s open to argument, Jack,” he said encouragingly, seeing I looked rather glum at the prospect before us now, although I had been so light-hearted before, not thinking things were going to turn out so badly as they now appeared. “The old chap, as you can see for yourself, with all those soldiers about him, must keep up his reputation as a bloodthirsty foe to all foreigners; or else, he’d lose his billet as a mandarin and have that rum old tile of his taken from him! But, he tipped me a wink, Jack; didn’t you see him? That means business, and tells me as plain as a pikestaff that he’s open to be bribed to get us off by-and-by, although he is forced to take us first to Pekin. They want as many of us as they can catch, you know, to show to their blessed emperor as a proof of their having licked us again, and ‘wiped out’ all the red devils—that’s what Yangkei-tze, means, ‘red devils,’ though it sounds very like Yankee! Ain’t that so, old chappie, and don’t you agree?”

He jingled the money which he still held in his hand, addressing his last remark to our friend “yellow hat,” who had approached us again after conferring with his men; and, catching the sound, he nodded his head and gave Ned a perceptible wink, as if he thoroughly understood what he had said, and would be our friend—for a consideration!

The bearers then coming up, the old chap motioned us to take our places in the bamboo cages, although he did not offer to gag or bind us again; when, on our being seated, our travelling prisons were raised to the men’s shoulders and we resumed our journey.

Chapter Thirty Two.On the Road to Pekin.As we got further up the countryside, we saw numbers of gardens full of peach trees, the fruit of which was plentiful enough, with an occasional poplar grove, the usual decoration of a cemetery; while the villages became more frequent, too, and more populous, one meeting us almost at every mile.The people that we met, however, received us in a very puzzling fashion, coming round our cages to look at us, as if we were so many wild animals, and roaring with laughter at our appearance; even the very babies crowing with merriment on our being pointed out to them by their fond parents, much to Ned’s disgust, although I joined in with their hilarity, it was really so hearty and catching!That night we all slept together in one of the inns along the road, where, although the bed-place was fixed, it had plenty of moving tenants before our arrival; and, I’m sorry to say, we carried off a few of them when we went away in the morning, and suffered in consequence.But beyond this little personal matter, which is a mere detail to anyone travelling in China, and the staring of the inhabitants, we did not suffer much inconvenience during our journey, the old fellow in charge of us giving us the best food he could get, in the shape of rice and eggs, the latter of which were sometimes in such a state of perfection that they deserved to have been promoted to the rank of poultry; and, on the third day after leaving Tientsin, although the distance between the two places must be eighty or ninety miles, we saw the walls of Pekin in front of us.So our guide, the old chap, told us, at least; but, although the sight of this celestial city is asserted by the Chinese to “strike awe” into the beholder on first sighting it, we should not have known we were gazing on such an imposing object as the capital of China undoubtedly is!On closing up with the town, we passed a collection of tombs with stone tortoises carrying memorial tablets on their backs, and other signs of mourning, and a josshouse; and we soon after this entered Pekin by a granite causeway over a tumble-down bridge, passing for some distance along, the massive walls, which were some fifty feet in height and of equal thickness.“Yellow hat” was evidently anxious to keep us as private as possible; for, he hurried the bearers through the streets, which, though dirty, were wide, and the buildings on either side, with their roofs of glazed yellow tiles and fronts all carved and gilded, looked showy enough in the sunshine.It was like a panorama, being thus carried through these strange streets, with the people stopping to look at us, but not behaving at all rudely, although our army must have been known to be marching on the capital; and Ned and I absolutely enjoyed it, noting as we sailed past the temples and curio shops and pagodas and all, the constant stream of umbrella-bearing passers-by and the fact that nearly all the old men held birds in their hands tied on to sticks, looking just like those wooden monkeys which pedlars hawk about at home for the delectation of rustic juveniles.“Yellow hat” told us subsequently, with reference to this curious picture of their domestic life, that it was the custom of the country so to take out their pet canaries and other little songsters for an airing, instead of lapdogs.These they reserve for their pies and other choice dishes.Ned and I seemed to pass through miles of real nightmares as we went along, the people and their surroundings having an air of unreality.The only things about Pekin we thought genuine were the smells, which were something awful; as we learnt from bitter experience during our four weeks’ captivity here, locked up in a cell with all the common criminals, and, I believe, all the vermin of the city.Somehow or other, the old man had mysteriously disappeared after leaving us at a quiet inn in the Tartar quarter, where, as well as we could understand him, we were to remain until he had a chance of communicating with the approaching English force to have us ransomed.“Chin, chin!” he said to Ned as he left us. “Mi go one piecee and yo waittee; Fanqui comee one piecee by by.”The next day, instead of his coming back again, a file of rough Tartars belonging to Prince Sankoliu-sin’s army rushed into the room where we were, and throwing us roughly on the floor, proceeded to strip us of everything we had about us, leaving us only our shirts, which were rather ragged by this time and not in a condition to do our laundress credit!We were, after this, cruelly tied with ropes that cut our wrists and ankles, and then dragged to prison, where we remained until one day we heard the booming of guns in the distance.“Good heavens, Jack!” cried poor Ned, who was by this time the wreck of his former self, and whom nobody on board the ship certainly would have recognised, “Those must be Armstrongs! I know the sound of them too well. Thank God, our comrades now are near at last to release us or revenge us!”Later on, the same day, some Chinese soldiers entered, instead of the usual Tartar guard which we had seen since we had been in this hole; and these, putting chains round our necks, marched us off, as we thought, to execution.“Good-bye, Ned, old fellow, if they separate us,” said I. “Should you escape, please tell my old Dad about me, and the people at home.”“Nonsense, Jack,” he replied, trying to laugh it off. “If we die, we’ll die together. But, I should like to pay out old ‘yellow hat’ first. By Jove, I should like to see him now!”Talk of—angels!At that every moment, as we were passing through a narrow stone passage beneath the walls of the city, as we judged from their height, the very individual of whom Ned had been speaking the instant before appeared on the scene; and, all I can say is, that if we had thought him the reverse of an angel previous to his coming, we were, on the contrary, inclined to believe him to be the genuine article as soon as he told us his errand!It was to release us, and take my poor emaciated and ragged comrade and myself to the English camp.Then it was that we heard the news that had happened since our imprisonment.Sir Hope Grant, with the French troops under Montauban, had fought their way up to Yuen-ming-Yuen, the Summer Palace of the emperor.This place, I may mention, was subsequently burnt to the ground by the English, after the French had looted it and carried off more than a million’s worth of plunder, leaving only the husks of the spoil for our gallant men, who had done all the hard work of the campaign!The Summer Palace was burnt, I should explain, as a punishment for the cruel murder by the Chinese of a number of our officers and men, as well as poor Mr Boulby, the special correspondent of theTimes, all of whom had been taken prisoners and tortured to death, though at the time they were under the protection of a flag of truce!Our troops had pretty well paid out the Chinese before this, however; their infantry being annihilated and the Tartar cavalry of Prince Sanko-liu-sin “doubled up” by our dragoons.This news “yellow hat” told us on our way to the English camp opposite to the Anting gate to the north of the city, explaining that the reason we had not seen him before was that he had gone away trying to open communications with our friends, and that he had made arrangements that no harm should befall us in his absence.“It didn’t look much like it, though, half-an-hour ago!” said I, on Ned’s translating this to me, his knowledge of Chinese, originally pretty good, having increased considerably during our long detention amongst our criminal companions of the prison. “That ugly beggar next me seemed just about to slice off your head like a carrot when he turned up.”“Better late than never, old chap,” said Ned, with a grin. “He mightn’t have turned up at all!”The next moment, we passed a couple of men of the Royals who were doing out-post duty; and, ere we could realise the fact almost, we were amongst friends and comrades once more!This was on the 10th October, on which day Sir Hope Grant sent a demand to the Chinese authorities that unless the Anting gate was surrendered by the 13th, or in three days’ time, the city would be bombarded.The morning of the 13th came, but the Chinese were still unyielding; so, the guns in front of the fortifications were sponged out and run back ready for loading, with the gunners standing by awaiting the order to fire.Every heart beat high with expectation, and it looked as if we were going to have a last fight of it; when, just on the minute of the hour fixed for the ultimatum to expire, the gates were thrown open and the defences of the city surrendered to the English army.Another minute, and the Union Jack was floating over the walls of Pekin.The rest is a matter of history.

As we got further up the countryside, we saw numbers of gardens full of peach trees, the fruit of which was plentiful enough, with an occasional poplar grove, the usual decoration of a cemetery; while the villages became more frequent, too, and more populous, one meeting us almost at every mile.

The people that we met, however, received us in a very puzzling fashion, coming round our cages to look at us, as if we were so many wild animals, and roaring with laughter at our appearance; even the very babies crowing with merriment on our being pointed out to them by their fond parents, much to Ned’s disgust, although I joined in with their hilarity, it was really so hearty and catching!

That night we all slept together in one of the inns along the road, where, although the bed-place was fixed, it had plenty of moving tenants before our arrival; and, I’m sorry to say, we carried off a few of them when we went away in the morning, and suffered in consequence.

But beyond this little personal matter, which is a mere detail to anyone travelling in China, and the staring of the inhabitants, we did not suffer much inconvenience during our journey, the old fellow in charge of us giving us the best food he could get, in the shape of rice and eggs, the latter of which were sometimes in such a state of perfection that they deserved to have been promoted to the rank of poultry; and, on the third day after leaving Tientsin, although the distance between the two places must be eighty or ninety miles, we saw the walls of Pekin in front of us.

So our guide, the old chap, told us, at least; but, although the sight of this celestial city is asserted by the Chinese to “strike awe” into the beholder on first sighting it, we should not have known we were gazing on such an imposing object as the capital of China undoubtedly is!

On closing up with the town, we passed a collection of tombs with stone tortoises carrying memorial tablets on their backs, and other signs of mourning, and a josshouse; and we soon after this entered Pekin by a granite causeway over a tumble-down bridge, passing for some distance along, the massive walls, which were some fifty feet in height and of equal thickness.

“Yellow hat” was evidently anxious to keep us as private as possible; for, he hurried the bearers through the streets, which, though dirty, were wide, and the buildings on either side, with their roofs of glazed yellow tiles and fronts all carved and gilded, looked showy enough in the sunshine.

It was like a panorama, being thus carried through these strange streets, with the people stopping to look at us, but not behaving at all rudely, although our army must have been known to be marching on the capital; and Ned and I absolutely enjoyed it, noting as we sailed past the temples and curio shops and pagodas and all, the constant stream of umbrella-bearing passers-by and the fact that nearly all the old men held birds in their hands tied on to sticks, looking just like those wooden monkeys which pedlars hawk about at home for the delectation of rustic juveniles.

“Yellow hat” told us subsequently, with reference to this curious picture of their domestic life, that it was the custom of the country so to take out their pet canaries and other little songsters for an airing, instead of lapdogs.

These they reserve for their pies and other choice dishes.

Ned and I seemed to pass through miles of real nightmares as we went along, the people and their surroundings having an air of unreality.

The only things about Pekin we thought genuine were the smells, which were something awful; as we learnt from bitter experience during our four weeks’ captivity here, locked up in a cell with all the common criminals, and, I believe, all the vermin of the city.

Somehow or other, the old man had mysteriously disappeared after leaving us at a quiet inn in the Tartar quarter, where, as well as we could understand him, we were to remain until he had a chance of communicating with the approaching English force to have us ransomed.

“Chin, chin!” he said to Ned as he left us. “Mi go one piecee and yo waittee; Fanqui comee one piecee by by.”

The next day, instead of his coming back again, a file of rough Tartars belonging to Prince Sankoliu-sin’s army rushed into the room where we were, and throwing us roughly on the floor, proceeded to strip us of everything we had about us, leaving us only our shirts, which were rather ragged by this time and not in a condition to do our laundress credit!

We were, after this, cruelly tied with ropes that cut our wrists and ankles, and then dragged to prison, where we remained until one day we heard the booming of guns in the distance.

“Good heavens, Jack!” cried poor Ned, who was by this time the wreck of his former self, and whom nobody on board the ship certainly would have recognised, “Those must be Armstrongs! I know the sound of them too well. Thank God, our comrades now are near at last to release us or revenge us!”

Later on, the same day, some Chinese soldiers entered, instead of the usual Tartar guard which we had seen since we had been in this hole; and these, putting chains round our necks, marched us off, as we thought, to execution.

“Good-bye, Ned, old fellow, if they separate us,” said I. “Should you escape, please tell my old Dad about me, and the people at home.”

“Nonsense, Jack,” he replied, trying to laugh it off. “If we die, we’ll die together. But, I should like to pay out old ‘yellow hat’ first. By Jove, I should like to see him now!”

Talk of—angels!

At that every moment, as we were passing through a narrow stone passage beneath the walls of the city, as we judged from their height, the very individual of whom Ned had been speaking the instant before appeared on the scene; and, all I can say is, that if we had thought him the reverse of an angel previous to his coming, we were, on the contrary, inclined to believe him to be the genuine article as soon as he told us his errand!

It was to release us, and take my poor emaciated and ragged comrade and myself to the English camp.

Then it was that we heard the news that had happened since our imprisonment.

Sir Hope Grant, with the French troops under Montauban, had fought their way up to Yuen-ming-Yuen, the Summer Palace of the emperor.

This place, I may mention, was subsequently burnt to the ground by the English, after the French had looted it and carried off more than a million’s worth of plunder, leaving only the husks of the spoil for our gallant men, who had done all the hard work of the campaign!

The Summer Palace was burnt, I should explain, as a punishment for the cruel murder by the Chinese of a number of our officers and men, as well as poor Mr Boulby, the special correspondent of theTimes, all of whom had been taken prisoners and tortured to death, though at the time they were under the protection of a flag of truce!

Our troops had pretty well paid out the Chinese before this, however; their infantry being annihilated and the Tartar cavalry of Prince Sanko-liu-sin “doubled up” by our dragoons.

This news “yellow hat” told us on our way to the English camp opposite to the Anting gate to the north of the city, explaining that the reason we had not seen him before was that he had gone away trying to open communications with our friends, and that he had made arrangements that no harm should befall us in his absence.

“It didn’t look much like it, though, half-an-hour ago!” said I, on Ned’s translating this to me, his knowledge of Chinese, originally pretty good, having increased considerably during our long detention amongst our criminal companions of the prison. “That ugly beggar next me seemed just about to slice off your head like a carrot when he turned up.”

“Better late than never, old chap,” said Ned, with a grin. “He mightn’t have turned up at all!”

The next moment, we passed a couple of men of the Royals who were doing out-post duty; and, ere we could realise the fact almost, we were amongst friends and comrades once more!

This was on the 10th October, on which day Sir Hope Grant sent a demand to the Chinese authorities that unless the Anting gate was surrendered by the 13th, or in three days’ time, the city would be bombarded.

The morning of the 13th came, but the Chinese were still unyielding; so, the guns in front of the fortifications were sponged out and run back ready for loading, with the gunners standing by awaiting the order to fire.

Every heart beat high with expectation, and it looked as if we were going to have a last fight of it; when, just on the minute of the hour fixed for the ultimatum to expire, the gates were thrown open and the defences of the city surrendered to the English army.

Another minute, and the Union Jack was floating over the walls of Pekin.

The rest is a matter of history.

Chapter Thirty Three.At Hong Kong again!“Hullo, Bamboo Jack!” cried Larkyns, as I came up the side of our old ship again after a tedious voyage down the Peiho in one of the gunboats, accompanied by Ned Anstruther, my comrade not merely in arms but in captivity. “Chin, chin, my hearty, I’m delighted to see you and Ned safe and sound, after all your wanderings and wonderful adventures, which a little bird, not caged, though, has told us of! Come below, now, to the gunroom, old chap, and have ‘one piecee chow chow,’ and spin us a yarn about it all yourself. It seems like old times seeing your ugly old phiz once more, by Jove!”All the other fellows, too, appeared quite as pleased to see us both back, except that surly brute Andrews, who looked as if he wished the Chinese had made puppy pies of Ned and myself.Truth to say, I was jolly glad myself to be on board again with my messmates, amid the old familiar scenes and surroundings.Indeed, when swinging in my hammock the first night after my return, I fancied all that occurred was but a dream—so it seemed to my heated imagination—and that I had never left theCandaharfor a day, nor passed through such exciting experiences!A week or so later, after all the details of our treaty with the Chinese Government had been settled, and Lord Elgin departed from Pekin on his way to Europe on the conclusion of his highly successful mission, we likewise weighed anchor before the Gulf of Pechili should be closed by the ice and our egress therefrom barred for the winter months; and then, bidding a long farewell to the poetically-named but “beastly hole of a place,” as Mr Jellaby called it, the “Bay of the Wide-spreading-sand Islands,” we sailed for Hong Kong.Here we arrived at the end of November, the north-east monsoon being all in our favour, and the current along the coast as well; both these favouring causes making the oldCandahartravel as if “Old Nick” was after her.None of us were sorry to be amongst an English-speaking community once more, with its attendant advantage of our being able to procure most of the comforts and luxuries of civilised life, for our commissariat was in the most deplorable condition.My friend Larkyns, able caterer of the mess as he had hitherto proved himself to be from the date of his deposing poor Mr Stormcock up to our going to the Peiho, was at his wits’ end to replenish our sadly-depleted larder, which brought on the head of the unfortunate Dobbs every day at dinner more abuse than even the long-suffering steward could well bear.The fact was, really, fish and rice were the only articles of food to be obtained to diversify our stock fare of pickled pork and salt horse from the neighbouring inhabitants of this northern portion of the domain of the Ruler of the Universe, and Emperor of the Sun, Moon and Stars; for our French allies had so bullied and plundered all the Celestials in the immediate vicinity on the seaboard that those dwelling in the interior, where provisions of all sorts was quite plentiful, were too frightened of the ferocious and light-fingered Gauls to care to come forward with their goods—although, we invariably paid for all we had from the natives in good, sound dollars, the reverse of the practice of Messieurs Achille and Jules of the Chasseurs à Pied who generally reimbursed “ces pauvres bêtes des Chinois” for what they unceremoniously appropriated, with true Parisian deviltry, “in kind” of the most unkindly description!Under these circumstances, the gourmands of the gunroom were most unfeignedly delighted at abandoning such an inhospitable region as that of “The Widespreading-sand Island,” where they had to starve in the midst of plenty; so likewise was I, the only thing which I had to thank our sojourn off the province of Shan-tung for being the nickname Larkyns gave me in his sportive fancy on my return on board from Pekin after my imprisonment.This was, certainly, nothing to be proud of; and yet, such is the incongruity of things, the sobriquet stuck to me from that day to this, following me about from ship to ship while I have been on active service.Some fellow, whom I had never previously seen in my life, perhaps, or knew from Adam, accosts me immediately on hearing my proper patronymic, with a sudden lighting up of face and hand outstretched as if I were an old friend. “Oh, yes; why, I’ve heard of you before, I think, old chap! Ain’t you Bamboo Jack, eh?”This, of course, is extremely gratifying, illustrating the truth of the adage, which my poor old Dad used to quote to me frequently enough, that “More people know Tom Fool than Tom Fool knows!”We all of us enjoyed our long stay at Hong Kong, accordingly, theCandaharhaving a thorough overhaul and refit with the rest of the fleet, now that the campaign was over; for, the residents were accordingly hospitable and kind to us, including the principal merchants of the place and the government officials, as well as the military stationed at Kowloon on the mainland opposite, where there was a large camp—all of them keeping open house, where we were welcomed at all hours, dinners, balls, picnics and all sorts of festivities being the order of the day while we remained in Victoria Bay.Our ship, however, nearly left her bones behind her here during a terrific typhoon that sprang up of a sudden, on the eve of our departure; when all the junks and fishing-boats in the harbour were wrecked, besides several trading vessels and most of the flimsier of the buildings ashore demolished.We dragged our anchors in the very height of the storm, although we were moored securely with both bowers down; and, it was only by good seamanship and the active exertions of all hands that we escaped, cutting our cables and putting to sea for safety, so as to let the old barquey brave it out on her own element, which she gallantly did.When we were all ataunto again, we sailed for Bombay, whither the admiral had preceded us; and from thence, after a grand entertainment at the celebrated Biculla Club, we were despatched on detached service, spending the summer months in cruising up the Persian Gulf and about the Indian Ocean hunting up pirates and Arab slave dhows, in pursuit of which we ran down the East African coast as far as the Mozambique Channel.We captured a lot of slavers, laden with cargoes of poor wretches that, but for our release of them, would have spent the remainder of their days in picking cloves at Pemba, or serving the Egyptians like the Israelites of old; and, giving a look in at Zanzibar, we handed over our prizes, for each of which we had a bounty of so much per head on the slaves captured, besides the value of the dhows we did not destroy. We then returned to Bombay whence we were ordered back to the China station, making our old port, Hong Kong, again at the beginning of spring in the following year.From here, in company with the admiral and most of our fleet in the eastern seas at that time, we paid a visit to each of the Treaty Ports, which, mainly through the efforts of England, had been thrown open to the commerce of the world, and by which not only has the Manchester cotton spinner and Birmingham hardware dealer profited, but the empire of China herself and her people.

“Hullo, Bamboo Jack!” cried Larkyns, as I came up the side of our old ship again after a tedious voyage down the Peiho in one of the gunboats, accompanied by Ned Anstruther, my comrade not merely in arms but in captivity. “Chin, chin, my hearty, I’m delighted to see you and Ned safe and sound, after all your wanderings and wonderful adventures, which a little bird, not caged, though, has told us of! Come below, now, to the gunroom, old chap, and have ‘one piecee chow chow,’ and spin us a yarn about it all yourself. It seems like old times seeing your ugly old phiz once more, by Jove!”

All the other fellows, too, appeared quite as pleased to see us both back, except that surly brute Andrews, who looked as if he wished the Chinese had made puppy pies of Ned and myself.

Truth to say, I was jolly glad myself to be on board again with my messmates, amid the old familiar scenes and surroundings.

Indeed, when swinging in my hammock the first night after my return, I fancied all that occurred was but a dream—so it seemed to my heated imagination—and that I had never left theCandaharfor a day, nor passed through such exciting experiences!

A week or so later, after all the details of our treaty with the Chinese Government had been settled, and Lord Elgin departed from Pekin on his way to Europe on the conclusion of his highly successful mission, we likewise weighed anchor before the Gulf of Pechili should be closed by the ice and our egress therefrom barred for the winter months; and then, bidding a long farewell to the poetically-named but “beastly hole of a place,” as Mr Jellaby called it, the “Bay of the Wide-spreading-sand Islands,” we sailed for Hong Kong.

Here we arrived at the end of November, the north-east monsoon being all in our favour, and the current along the coast as well; both these favouring causes making the oldCandahartravel as if “Old Nick” was after her.

None of us were sorry to be amongst an English-speaking community once more, with its attendant advantage of our being able to procure most of the comforts and luxuries of civilised life, for our commissariat was in the most deplorable condition.

My friend Larkyns, able caterer of the mess as he had hitherto proved himself to be from the date of his deposing poor Mr Stormcock up to our going to the Peiho, was at his wits’ end to replenish our sadly-depleted larder, which brought on the head of the unfortunate Dobbs every day at dinner more abuse than even the long-suffering steward could well bear.

The fact was, really, fish and rice were the only articles of food to be obtained to diversify our stock fare of pickled pork and salt horse from the neighbouring inhabitants of this northern portion of the domain of the Ruler of the Universe, and Emperor of the Sun, Moon and Stars; for our French allies had so bullied and plundered all the Celestials in the immediate vicinity on the seaboard that those dwelling in the interior, where provisions of all sorts was quite plentiful, were too frightened of the ferocious and light-fingered Gauls to care to come forward with their goods—although, we invariably paid for all we had from the natives in good, sound dollars, the reverse of the practice of Messieurs Achille and Jules of the Chasseurs à Pied who generally reimbursed “ces pauvres bêtes des Chinois” for what they unceremoniously appropriated, with true Parisian deviltry, “in kind” of the most unkindly description!

Under these circumstances, the gourmands of the gunroom were most unfeignedly delighted at abandoning such an inhospitable region as that of “The Widespreading-sand Island,” where they had to starve in the midst of plenty; so likewise was I, the only thing which I had to thank our sojourn off the province of Shan-tung for being the nickname Larkyns gave me in his sportive fancy on my return on board from Pekin after my imprisonment.

This was, certainly, nothing to be proud of; and yet, such is the incongruity of things, the sobriquet stuck to me from that day to this, following me about from ship to ship while I have been on active service.

Some fellow, whom I had never previously seen in my life, perhaps, or knew from Adam, accosts me immediately on hearing my proper patronymic, with a sudden lighting up of face and hand outstretched as if I were an old friend. “Oh, yes; why, I’ve heard of you before, I think, old chap! Ain’t you Bamboo Jack, eh?”

This, of course, is extremely gratifying, illustrating the truth of the adage, which my poor old Dad used to quote to me frequently enough, that “More people know Tom Fool than Tom Fool knows!”

We all of us enjoyed our long stay at Hong Kong, accordingly, theCandaharhaving a thorough overhaul and refit with the rest of the fleet, now that the campaign was over; for, the residents were accordingly hospitable and kind to us, including the principal merchants of the place and the government officials, as well as the military stationed at Kowloon on the mainland opposite, where there was a large camp—all of them keeping open house, where we were welcomed at all hours, dinners, balls, picnics and all sorts of festivities being the order of the day while we remained in Victoria Bay.

Our ship, however, nearly left her bones behind her here during a terrific typhoon that sprang up of a sudden, on the eve of our departure; when all the junks and fishing-boats in the harbour were wrecked, besides several trading vessels and most of the flimsier of the buildings ashore demolished.

We dragged our anchors in the very height of the storm, although we were moored securely with both bowers down; and, it was only by good seamanship and the active exertions of all hands that we escaped, cutting our cables and putting to sea for safety, so as to let the old barquey brave it out on her own element, which she gallantly did.

When we were all ataunto again, we sailed for Bombay, whither the admiral had preceded us; and from thence, after a grand entertainment at the celebrated Biculla Club, we were despatched on detached service, spending the summer months in cruising up the Persian Gulf and about the Indian Ocean hunting up pirates and Arab slave dhows, in pursuit of which we ran down the East African coast as far as the Mozambique Channel.

We captured a lot of slavers, laden with cargoes of poor wretches that, but for our release of them, would have spent the remainder of their days in picking cloves at Pemba, or serving the Egyptians like the Israelites of old; and, giving a look in at Zanzibar, we handed over our prizes, for each of which we had a bounty of so much per head on the slaves captured, besides the value of the dhows we did not destroy. We then returned to Bombay whence we were ordered back to the China station, making our old port, Hong Kong, again at the beginning of spring in the following year.

From here, in company with the admiral and most of our fleet in the eastern seas at that time, we paid a visit to each of the Treaty Ports, which, mainly through the efforts of England, had been thrown open to the commerce of the world, and by which not only has the Manchester cotton spinner and Birmingham hardware dealer profited, but the empire of China herself and her people.

Chapter Thirty Four.Homeward Bound.It was getting on for the expiration of the fourth year of our commission, when we had finished this tour and we paid a last visit to Hong Kong, before going on to Singapore to await our relief from England.Here, having been over three years a midshipman and being specially recommended for promotion by Captain Farmer, there being three captains in port to constitute our examining board, according to the Admiralty regulations, I passed for lieutenant; whereupon, I was given an acting commission as mate until my return home, when, on getting my certificates in gunnery and steam at the Naval College, I would be entitled to my epaulets—the which, I may here state, I ultimately obtained in due course.At Singapore, we sweltered from the month of April, when our relief was due, up to June without her even putting in an appearance; and, we were all beginning to believe she had gone down to “Davy Jones’s locker” and that we were never going to be relieved at all, when one fine morning, as our hearts were getting sick within us, the ship was sighted in the offing.I don’t think I can ever forget the excitement and enthusiasm aroused on board as the news became known, and on her coming up with the sea breeze at breakfast-time everybody seemed to go mad with joy, the officers shaking hands with each other all round and the men crowding the rigging and cheering theDaphneas she passed up to her anchorage inside of us.That very same afternoon, being all ready and waiting, we sailed from Singapore for the Cape, “homeward bound.”What a night that was down below in the gunroom.Although it was not Saturday evening, when our weekly sing-song was usually celebrated, youngsters and oldsters alike united with a common impulse to have a general hullabaloo, their efforts resulting in such a row as never had been heard, I believe, on board the oldCandaharbefore, and, I am equally positive, has not been equalled since, even after she became a harbour ship and was reduced to her present condition of “Receiving Hulk.”I can fancy I see the scene now before me as I write these last lines of my yarn.There were Larkyns and Ned Anstruther, both of whom, like myself, had passed through the chrysalis stage of midshipmen and came within the category of oldsters, the one with a banjo, and the other handling a broken-down concertina, very wheezy about the gills; with little Tommy Mills, who was only a “midshipmite” still, in every sense of the word, accompanying them with a rattling refrain from a pair of ivory castanets which he had purchased for a paper dollar in a curio shop at Canton.All the rest of the fellows were shouting out at the pitch of their voices, as only middies and mates andsuch-like fry can shout, the chorus of the old sailors’ song:—“We’ll rant and we’ll roar like true British sailors,We’ll rant and we’ll roar all on the salt seas,Until we strike soundings in the Channel of Old England;From Ushant to Scilly ’tis thirty-five leagues!”Those on the deck above, however, did not wait until we had arrived “in soundings”; for, just as the song was being repeated by acclamation for the third time, the chorus getting louder and louder after each repetition, Sergeant Macan, as he now was, having gained his extra stripes soon after his reinstatement as corporal for his gallantry in the assault on the Taku Forts, appeared at the door of the gunroom in his old fashion, being yet retained by express permission as Dr Nettleby’s factotum.“Plaize, yer ’onner,” said he, addressing Larkyns, who was still caterer of the mess and the senior in rank of those present, as he was twanging away at his banjo with infinite zest, “the docthor sez if ye can’t be aisy he axes ye to be as aisy as ye can.”An uproarious shout was all the answer he got; and, grinning from ear to ear, he retreated, only to be succeeded by the master-at-arms, who came down to put out the lights by the commander’s orders, when those who had not to go on night duty turned in and peace was restored.Sailing with the south-west monsoon, we did not have so speedy a passage homeward as we did when outward bound, but we made way southward as well as we could, close-hauled, and reached the Cape two months after passing through Java Heads.At Simon’s Bay we refitted ship and took in fresh supplies; and while we remained getting these latter on board several old friends came to see us from Cape Town.Amongst these was no other than Don Ferdinando Olivarez, who told us he had given up the sea as a profession.He still adventured on the deep, however, despite his memorable experiences of its perils; for, he said, he had to voyage about a good deal from port to port in the prosecution of his new avocation as the agent for a large firm of wine exporters at Cadiz, where he lived when at home, being now married.At Captain Farmer’s request, Don Olivarez took passage with us to Madeira; and while on board with us made himself, if possible, better liked than before.All of us parted with him with regret when he left us at Funchal, where we put in to land him and correct an error in our chronometers, which had gone wrong from an accident resulting from a violent thunderstorm we fell in with when crossing the Equator for the last time, in which the ship got struck by the lightning, when the captain’s cabin, where the chronometers were kept, was seriously damaged by the electric fluid.From Madeira to England we had fair winds and fine weather, crossing the Bay of Biscay, which had given us so much trouble going out, with all our kites flying and the wind well in the quarter, which made all the old hands say that the “Portsmouth girls had got hold of our towrope.”Talking of the men, Master “Downy,” the ex-gravedigger, although he had been scraped into something of a sailor in appearance in the time he had been afloat, now nearly five years, in which period, by the way, he had accumulated enough prize-money to more than discharge the debts he had left behind on quitting his country, could never be taught to be smart in his movements, always going about the deck as if he were engaged at a funeral.One day, a wag on the forecastle, as we heard through the marine sentry, took a good rise out of this slow-going individual.“Hi, Downy!” said he, seeing him creeping forward, with his eyes bent down, counting the planks, apparently. “Chips, the carpenter’s mate, wants to see you, sonny.”“See me?” repeated the other, wonderingly. “What does he want to see me for?”“Why,” said the other, “he wants to measure you for your coffin. He says you’re more’n half dead already, cos you crawls about like a cripple. Only you’re so bloomin’ lazy, you’d die out and out at once and be chucked overboard comfortable like!”Downy did not make any reply to this, which was an acknowledgment of his having the worst of it, as he was generally credited with possessing the gift of the gab and not easily silenced.Another queer old stick came to the sick bay complaining of being ill, notwithstanding that he looked hale and hearty.“What’s the matter with you?” asked Dr Nettleby, in his sharp, incisive manner, which had not grown any milder from his sojourn in the China Sea and an attack of liver complaint. “You seem all right, my man.”“I’ve got overhand knots in my gaffs, sir.”“What on earth do you mean?” cried the doctor, puzzled by the name of this new disease.“Overhand knots in your gaffs—why, you must be drunk!”“No, sir, I ain’t,” replied the old sailor, soberly enough, holding out his hands, which were twisted about, the fingers resembling the strands of a rope overlaying each other, and the knuckles distorted out of shape. “My spars, sir, refuses duty.”He had very aptly described his complaint, although it might not be similarly designated in any medical dictionary.The poor fellow was suffering from rheumatism!

It was getting on for the expiration of the fourth year of our commission, when we had finished this tour and we paid a last visit to Hong Kong, before going on to Singapore to await our relief from England.

Here, having been over three years a midshipman and being specially recommended for promotion by Captain Farmer, there being three captains in port to constitute our examining board, according to the Admiralty regulations, I passed for lieutenant; whereupon, I was given an acting commission as mate until my return home, when, on getting my certificates in gunnery and steam at the Naval College, I would be entitled to my epaulets—the which, I may here state, I ultimately obtained in due course.

At Singapore, we sweltered from the month of April, when our relief was due, up to June without her even putting in an appearance; and, we were all beginning to believe she had gone down to “Davy Jones’s locker” and that we were never going to be relieved at all, when one fine morning, as our hearts were getting sick within us, the ship was sighted in the offing.

I don’t think I can ever forget the excitement and enthusiasm aroused on board as the news became known, and on her coming up with the sea breeze at breakfast-time everybody seemed to go mad with joy, the officers shaking hands with each other all round and the men crowding the rigging and cheering theDaphneas she passed up to her anchorage inside of us.

That very same afternoon, being all ready and waiting, we sailed from Singapore for the Cape, “homeward bound.”

What a night that was down below in the gunroom.

Although it was not Saturday evening, when our weekly sing-song was usually celebrated, youngsters and oldsters alike united with a common impulse to have a general hullabaloo, their efforts resulting in such a row as never had been heard, I believe, on board the oldCandaharbefore, and, I am equally positive, has not been equalled since, even after she became a harbour ship and was reduced to her present condition of “Receiving Hulk.”

I can fancy I see the scene now before me as I write these last lines of my yarn.

There were Larkyns and Ned Anstruther, both of whom, like myself, had passed through the chrysalis stage of midshipmen and came within the category of oldsters, the one with a banjo, and the other handling a broken-down concertina, very wheezy about the gills; with little Tommy Mills, who was only a “midshipmite” still, in every sense of the word, accompanying them with a rattling refrain from a pair of ivory castanets which he had purchased for a paper dollar in a curio shop at Canton.

All the rest of the fellows were shouting out at the pitch of their voices, as only middies and mates andsuch-like fry can shout, the chorus of the old sailors’ song:—

“We’ll rant and we’ll roar like true British sailors,We’ll rant and we’ll roar all on the salt seas,Until we strike soundings in the Channel of Old England;From Ushant to Scilly ’tis thirty-five leagues!”

“We’ll rant and we’ll roar like true British sailors,We’ll rant and we’ll roar all on the salt seas,Until we strike soundings in the Channel of Old England;From Ushant to Scilly ’tis thirty-five leagues!”

Those on the deck above, however, did not wait until we had arrived “in soundings”; for, just as the song was being repeated by acclamation for the third time, the chorus getting louder and louder after each repetition, Sergeant Macan, as he now was, having gained his extra stripes soon after his reinstatement as corporal for his gallantry in the assault on the Taku Forts, appeared at the door of the gunroom in his old fashion, being yet retained by express permission as Dr Nettleby’s factotum.

“Plaize, yer ’onner,” said he, addressing Larkyns, who was still caterer of the mess and the senior in rank of those present, as he was twanging away at his banjo with infinite zest, “the docthor sez if ye can’t be aisy he axes ye to be as aisy as ye can.”

An uproarious shout was all the answer he got; and, grinning from ear to ear, he retreated, only to be succeeded by the master-at-arms, who came down to put out the lights by the commander’s orders, when those who had not to go on night duty turned in and peace was restored.

Sailing with the south-west monsoon, we did not have so speedy a passage homeward as we did when outward bound, but we made way southward as well as we could, close-hauled, and reached the Cape two months after passing through Java Heads.

At Simon’s Bay we refitted ship and took in fresh supplies; and while we remained getting these latter on board several old friends came to see us from Cape Town.

Amongst these was no other than Don Ferdinando Olivarez, who told us he had given up the sea as a profession.

He still adventured on the deep, however, despite his memorable experiences of its perils; for, he said, he had to voyage about a good deal from port to port in the prosecution of his new avocation as the agent for a large firm of wine exporters at Cadiz, where he lived when at home, being now married.

At Captain Farmer’s request, Don Olivarez took passage with us to Madeira; and while on board with us made himself, if possible, better liked than before.

All of us parted with him with regret when he left us at Funchal, where we put in to land him and correct an error in our chronometers, which had gone wrong from an accident resulting from a violent thunderstorm we fell in with when crossing the Equator for the last time, in which the ship got struck by the lightning, when the captain’s cabin, where the chronometers were kept, was seriously damaged by the electric fluid.

From Madeira to England we had fair winds and fine weather, crossing the Bay of Biscay, which had given us so much trouble going out, with all our kites flying and the wind well in the quarter, which made all the old hands say that the “Portsmouth girls had got hold of our towrope.”

Talking of the men, Master “Downy,” the ex-gravedigger, although he had been scraped into something of a sailor in appearance in the time he had been afloat, now nearly five years, in which period, by the way, he had accumulated enough prize-money to more than discharge the debts he had left behind on quitting his country, could never be taught to be smart in his movements, always going about the deck as if he were engaged at a funeral.

One day, a wag on the forecastle, as we heard through the marine sentry, took a good rise out of this slow-going individual.

“Hi, Downy!” said he, seeing him creeping forward, with his eyes bent down, counting the planks, apparently. “Chips, the carpenter’s mate, wants to see you, sonny.”

“See me?” repeated the other, wonderingly. “What does he want to see me for?”

“Why,” said the other, “he wants to measure you for your coffin. He says you’re more’n half dead already, cos you crawls about like a cripple. Only you’re so bloomin’ lazy, you’d die out and out at once and be chucked overboard comfortable like!”

Downy did not make any reply to this, which was an acknowledgment of his having the worst of it, as he was generally credited with possessing the gift of the gab and not easily silenced.

Another queer old stick came to the sick bay complaining of being ill, notwithstanding that he looked hale and hearty.

“What’s the matter with you?” asked Dr Nettleby, in his sharp, incisive manner, which had not grown any milder from his sojourn in the China Sea and an attack of liver complaint. “You seem all right, my man.”

“I’ve got overhand knots in my gaffs, sir.”

“What on earth do you mean?” cried the doctor, puzzled by the name of this new disease.

“Overhand knots in your gaffs—why, you must be drunk!”

“No, sir, I ain’t,” replied the old sailor, soberly enough, holding out his hands, which were twisted about, the fingers resembling the strands of a rope overlaying each other, and the knuckles distorted out of shape. “My spars, sir, refuses duty.”

He had very aptly described his complaint, although it might not be similarly designated in any medical dictionary.

The poor fellow was suffering from rheumatism!

Chapter Thirty Five.“Paid Off!”But it is time to bring this long yarn of mine to a close.It was a fine, bright day, in the early part of October, that we hove the ship to for soundings, our observations then showing us that we were near Scilly and closing the land; so, on getting sand and shells at five-and-thirty fathoms, which proved that we were well within the Chops of the Channel, we squared away our mainyard before a brisk sou’-west breeze and made for the Lizard, which we sighted at Four Bells in the forenoon watch.We then bore up Channel direct, and, the wind holding fair, we passed Saint Catharine’s Point next morning; saluting the port admiral on our rounding Bembridge Ledge and anchoring at Spithead somewhere about mid-day.“By jingo!” cried Mr Jellaby, who was now our first lieutenant, having gained a step by the promotion of our former chief officer, “glass-eye;” though most of the old officers who had sailed with me from England paid off in the ship with us, there having been few changes in our complement, whether through death, disease or desertion, beyond the losses we had experienced in our unsuccessful attack on the Taku Forts, and from the subsequent sickness we had aboard when we were up the Gulf of Pechili in the hot season. “How jolly glad I shall be to see the general’s daughters again, young Vernon; what chawming gurls they were, to be sure! I do hope they’re not all married!”“Indeed, sir?” said I, interrogatively. “I hope they’re not, I’m sure, for your sake, if not for their own. But, I’m not thinking, now of any young ladies, sir. I’m looking forward to seeing my dear old Dad again, and my mother and sister.”“Ah, that’s what you say now, my boy,” he retorted, with his genial laugh. “But, when your whiskers are grown, like mine, you’ll be thinking of some other fellow’s sister, I bet.”His surmise might have been correct; though all I need add on this point is that my old friend “Joe” is now an admiral, with grown-up daughters of his own, and from his austere manner no one would ever dream of his susceptible nature and flirtive disposition in the days of which I speak.Not so Larkyns, who is the same sprightly, merry fellow as of old, albeit his hair is streaked with grey, and the crowsfeet winkle in the corners of his eyes when he laughs, as he is ever doing.But, my dear old Dad, who came on board the ship to see me while she was at Spithead, without waiting for her to go into harbour, he, like “Poor Tom Bowling” of the song, has now “gone aloft;” my mother following him, within an early date of his departure to that bourne whence no traveller returns.Gone where I hope to meet them both by-and-by; for, I can honestly say, that, beyond trying to do my duty when wearing Her Majesty’s uniform, I have considered myself always as serving “Under the Pen’ant” of even a higher power, and hope, perhaps, to earn a crown like that which I know my poor father strove for ever, when I come also to my last anchorage.Ay, even as our dead laureate has sung in his deathless verse:—“For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar.”The End.

But it is time to bring this long yarn of mine to a close.

It was a fine, bright day, in the early part of October, that we hove the ship to for soundings, our observations then showing us that we were near Scilly and closing the land; so, on getting sand and shells at five-and-thirty fathoms, which proved that we were well within the Chops of the Channel, we squared away our mainyard before a brisk sou’-west breeze and made for the Lizard, which we sighted at Four Bells in the forenoon watch.

We then bore up Channel direct, and, the wind holding fair, we passed Saint Catharine’s Point next morning; saluting the port admiral on our rounding Bembridge Ledge and anchoring at Spithead somewhere about mid-day.

“By jingo!” cried Mr Jellaby, who was now our first lieutenant, having gained a step by the promotion of our former chief officer, “glass-eye;” though most of the old officers who had sailed with me from England paid off in the ship with us, there having been few changes in our complement, whether through death, disease or desertion, beyond the losses we had experienced in our unsuccessful attack on the Taku Forts, and from the subsequent sickness we had aboard when we were up the Gulf of Pechili in the hot season. “How jolly glad I shall be to see the general’s daughters again, young Vernon; what chawming gurls they were, to be sure! I do hope they’re not all married!”

“Indeed, sir?” said I, interrogatively. “I hope they’re not, I’m sure, for your sake, if not for their own. But, I’m not thinking, now of any young ladies, sir. I’m looking forward to seeing my dear old Dad again, and my mother and sister.”

“Ah, that’s what you say now, my boy,” he retorted, with his genial laugh. “But, when your whiskers are grown, like mine, you’ll be thinking of some other fellow’s sister, I bet.”

His surmise might have been correct; though all I need add on this point is that my old friend “Joe” is now an admiral, with grown-up daughters of his own, and from his austere manner no one would ever dream of his susceptible nature and flirtive disposition in the days of which I speak.

Not so Larkyns, who is the same sprightly, merry fellow as of old, albeit his hair is streaked with grey, and the crowsfeet winkle in the corners of his eyes when he laughs, as he is ever doing.

But, my dear old Dad, who came on board the ship to see me while she was at Spithead, without waiting for her to go into harbour, he, like “Poor Tom Bowling” of the song, has now “gone aloft;” my mother following him, within an early date of his departure to that bourne whence no traveller returns.

Gone where I hope to meet them both by-and-by; for, I can honestly say, that, beyond trying to do my duty when wearing Her Majesty’s uniform, I have considered myself always as serving “Under the Pen’ant” of even a higher power, and hope, perhaps, to earn a crown like that which I know my poor father strove for ever, when I come also to my last anchorage.

Ay, even as our dead laureate has sung in his deathless verse:—

“For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar.”

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