* * * * *I don't remember anything more till I woke with a splitting headache, feeling as if I wanted to be sick and couldn't be. It was almost dark. I thought that I'd had a nightmare—I often did, after too much gunroom tinned salmon—and wondered why the lanterns had gone out. You know how you often wake up and think that you are in some strange place, and gradually work things out till they come right again.That's what I tried to do, but I couldn't fix things, and one eye didn't seem to work, and I wondered why I had my boots and my uniform on, and why it was all so wet. I put out my arm to feel if Jim's hammock was in its place, and then I let out a yell and rolled back pretty quickly.That yell seemed to blow away the cobwebs, and I lay back and began to make out that I was lying on a funny kind of floor, in a small room with whitewashed walls and a broken-down roof, with straw hanging through the cracks. The walls seemed to be made of bricks and mud, and one had a door in it and a small square opening above it, through which a little light came. Someone close to me began to move, and then sat up, very slowly. It was Martin, the gunroom "flat" sentry, and then I remembered that he had saved me from being choked, and all the things that had happened came back to me all at once."Where are we?" I asked.He gave me a startled look. "Crickey, sir, beggin' your pardon, you does look a awful sight!""What's the matter? What's happened?" I felt that it was awkward to talk, my lips felt uncomfortable, and I put my hand up to my face and it felt all raw and swollen. I couldn't see at all if I shut my right eye, so knew that my left one was closed up."Kicked you in the face, sir, and dragged you away afore we could stop 'em.""What!" I said, very alarmed. "The Commander not here? Where am I?""I don't exactly know where we be, sir, but them pirate chaps 'ave got 'old of us, and Old Tinker Bill too; 'e was brought in 'ere after us."Then I saw that there was a bluejacket lying asleep on the other side of him, and he dug him in the ribs—"'Ere, wake up, Tinker!" and he sat up growling.I saw that it was Miller, one of the armourers, and I remembered that he had gone with Mr. Whitmore's party, and I forgot all about worrying about where we were for a second."Did we smash that gun?" I cried, and tried to sit up in my excitement, but fell back again pretty quickly—my left arm was so painful every time I tried to move.Miller yawned and shook his head dolefully: "We never got nowhere near it, sir. Jerusalem!" he gasped, "you do look a fair 'knock-out', sir, that you does.""Well, tell me. What happened? Did Mr. Rawlings get hurt?"Then he told me that Mr. Hoffman had guided them all right, but they made a goodish deal of noise themselves, and our party (the Commander's party) had given the alarm too soon, and they simply found themselves running into hundreds of Chinese, and had to fall back again."You see, sir, it was like this. We went along all right till those huts began a burnin', but the light from 'em just gave the show away, and let 'em see where to fire. Mr. Rawlings was knocked over, an' a lot more, sir, an' the last as I seed of 'em was going back, very slow, a-carryin' some people, an' stoppin' and firin' back—occasional."And all the time we had thought how jolly comforting those flames were, and that they might help them to find their way back. I tried to get more from him about Jim, but he didn't know any more, except that there had been a lot of firing, and he had seen him fall, and two men lift him up. But that was enough to make me feel frightfully sad, though I didn't really seem to imagine that it was all quite real; and the pain in my head was so bad, and my arm was so painful, and I was so stiff and cold and cramped all over, that nothing could make me much more miserable, not even knowing that we had been captured by the pirates, or Jim had been badly wounded."I fell into a ditch or something," Miller went on, "an lost my way and got be'ind'and, and tried a-takin' a short cut, and something 'it me on the head and fair dazed me, and them ugly devils came up and collared me—came up from be'ind, they did. I never got a chance."I've got a bit of a scratch 'ere, sir," and he crawled over to me, and stooped to show me a groove across the top of his head. A bullet must have done it, and the hair was all matted together with blood."How did they catch you?" I asked Martin."Well, it was like this, sir. I saw 'em a-picking of you up—that not being so difficult, beggin' your pardon—and, not thinking, I slipped along arter you, forgettin' that I'd only got one arm that 'ud work. Well, sir, I got separated from them two others, and had 'em 'eathens all round me, and they got the best of it, sir." He was very gloomy, and lifted his left arm a little way from his side. "Ain't no good, sir! Somethink's broke in my shoulder."Miller had found a bowl full of water, and that made me remember how thirsty I was, and he knelt down and gave me some too, holding my head up. It was jolly difficult to drink, my lips were so swollen, and a good deal of it ran down my neck, but it was jolly refreshing."What's the matter with my arm?" I asked him. "I think it's broken."He took hold of it very gingerly, whilst I held on to the wrist and jammed my teeth together, and then I saw by the funny way the sleeve bent up halfway above the elbow that it must be broken. I felt the broken ends grate together when he tried to move it. Oh! it was so painful.He knew something about bandaging and splints, and tore down some of the thin rafters and lashed them on each side of it with his black silk handkerchief, and that made it more comfortable, and I managed to get on my feet. I felt an awful wreck, and was as weak as a mouse.We were all plastered with mud and green slime, and were wet and horrid. I had lost one of my gaiters and my cap, and my revolver, lanyard, and cartridge belt were gone; but I didn't really worry, because I felt too ill, and my head throbbed so much that I had to lie down again, and it was impossible to think properly, because everything was going round and round inside it.There was a noise on the outside of that door, and it opened very slowly, whilst we all stared at it, and a Chinaman put his head very slowly in, looked at us, saw me turn to look at him, drew it back again, and shut the door. I suppose he must have heard us talking. I think that I must have gone to sleep after this, because the next I remember was a tall, gloomy-looking man standing over me. "You're an officer, aren't you?" he asked me, and I told him that I was a midshipman."Come down with me," he said, and helped me to my feet, and supported me down a spiral wooden staircase.He got me into a room below, which was fitted up with European furniture—a writing-table, some cane easy chairs, and a camp bed. He made me sit down, and began pacing up and down the room. There was a clock on the table, and I saw that it was nearly midday. He went on pacing backwards and forwards, and I wondered whether he was the Englishman who had stolen Mr. Hoffman's yacht. I hadn't the least idea what was going to happen. Then he took down a shaving glass and held it in front of me.My aunt! I was a sight, if you like. All the left side of my forehead and face was black and blue, and my left eye was quite shut up, and my upper lip was tremendously swollen and cut. No wonder that Miller and Martin had been surprised when they saw me.He smiled grimly, put the glass down, and just then a Chinese servant came in and spoke to him."I have some food ready for you; come and take some, it will do you good," he said, and led me into the next room, where there was a big bowl of hot soup. The sight of it made me feel ill; but I swallowed a little, and found that it was doing me good, and managed to get through it all. It was jolly painful to put the spoon in my mouth.He told me that he had sent some food up to Martin and Miller, and that an old native who "doctored" for him was coming soon.He seemed strangely worried, and couldn't sit still. I should think that quite a dozen Chinamen must have come in whilst I was getting through that soup and soaking bread in it. They all seemed very excited when they saw me. Most of them scowled at me. Several of them were plump, prosperous-looking men, jolly well dressed, but others looked more like soldiers or sailors, great bony, leather-skinned, fierce-looking fellows. He seemed to have trouble with them, and once or twice spoke very angrily. I noticed, too, that whenever any of them came in, he put his hand to his pocket. I think, from the bulge, that he had a revolver there.He didn't look in the least fierce, except when he was angry—not at all like a man who could have done all those wicked things—and I began wondering whether he could really be the man everyone had been cursing. I suddenly thought of Mr. Travers, and blurted out, "We've got Mr. Travers back—that lieutenant you caught"—and, like the conceited ass I am, said, "I found him.""I know," he said bitterly; "I never wanted to take him along; it was either killing him or taking him prisoner, just as it was with you and those two men. He fought like a demon, simply threw himself on us, and had a revolver, too. I had to knock him on the head and take him along. You'd better not let those people you've just seen know that you were the one who found him. They've vowed to torture every one of those junks' crews who fall into their hands."I wished then that I hadn't spoken.He began working himself into a passion, and his face did look wicked. He was tall and lean and very good looking, and he clenched his fists, and jerked his arms about, and began cursing everyone—Captain Lester, the Admiral, Mr. Hoffman, himself, and Mr. Hobbs."How are they? How's Sally?" I asked; but he didn't seem to hear the first time, and raved about his cursed bad luck. Presently I asked again."I wish to heavens I'd never set eyes on either of them.""Why don't you send them back to us?" I asked."Send 'em back? I daren't; my life isn't worth an hour's purchase now, and they'd never let me. They'd kill them first, and me too. I don't run this show—not really; it's run by some of those Chinese mandarins—two or three of those who've just been in here. They think that as long as Hobbs and his daughter are in their hands they can get theer ransom, and that your old fool bull dog of a Skipper don't dare touch them. They want me to marry the girl—to make it more certain.""We thought that you were trying to marry her," I said stupidly."That's nothing to do with it—nothing to do with you," he jerked out very fiercely."If your fool Captain will run his head up against us, I shall have to marry her to save her life and mine too.""That's what those fat, oily-looking beasts want to do, and want me to do; and those other bloodthirsty rascals want to cut their throats and have done with them, say they've only brought us trouble, and wish to get back to their old established pirate business," he added, sneering."I've got them in the only strong walled house in the town, and I've got a hundred of my best men to guard them, but I can't trust 'em.""If I'm caught I hang," he began shouting—I really thought that he'd forgotten me—"and if she knows that it will save my life, I believe she will marry me. If things go wrong I go, and directly I go, you all go—Hobbs and all of you, and the poor girl too" (he clenched his hands across his forehead). "We've the scum of the Yangste here. They'd cut my throat for a cent if I left off being useful to them, and they'll cut all your throats for pure devilment."He sank down on a chair and stared in front of him.I had dropped my spoon and was very frightened.A man came running in with a letter, talking very fast. He gave a horrid smile when he had read it. "It's from your fool Captain. Wants to know whether you're alive, and says if any harm comes to you, he'll do I don't know what.""Go back upstairs and don't move till I tell you;" and he sat down at the writing-table."Please tell the Captain that I'm well, all but my arm, and that it was my fault that I was captured, not the Commander's," I asked him, because I had been worrying about that all the time, and knew that the Commander must have had an awful time with Captain Lester, and that that would be unfair. I knew jolly well that I'd made an ass of myself, and made things worse and more difficult for everyone by getting myself and Martin taken prisoners.He nodded grimly."Do tell me whether they all got away safely last night?" I blurted out."They left one marine dead, no one else." He began to work himself into a passion again. "My men almost got out of hand last night—I'd a hard job to keep them back—and if that old fool of yours lands again I shall lose all control over them. He won't believe what I wrote to him, so I'm going to write it stronger this time. If he comes lumbering along here they'll all see 'red', and kill every white man they can get hold of—and woman." Then he suddenly came across and gripped my shoulder. "A thousand years ago—eight hundred years ago—a girl wouldn't marry a man unless he did something to win her—sacked a town and carried her off. Now they want flowers, and chocolates, and candies, and pretty speeches—ugh!"Then he grew calmer."Go along up now—Ford your name is, I see—and wait till dusk. I'll try and get you all over to that walled house. It's your only chance."I was just going, when he called out, "In case anything happens, you had better take this," and he opened a drawer and pulled out a revolver and a couple of packets of ammunition. "They say it's easier to die fighting," and he turned his back on me.Feeling very frightened, and not quite understanding what he'd been talking about, I crawled upstairs, the Chinaman outside the door scowled at me, opened it and shut it after me, and I heard him swing the big wooden bar into its hole.Martin and Miller were asleep—they evidently had had a jolly good meal—and presently a funny, jovial, fat old Chinaman came along and looked at my arm. He took my coat off and cut the sleeve of my flannel shirt, and the arm was a most horrid sight, absolutely all mottled purple from the elbow to the shoulder. He showed me two tiny holes, made a "poof" noise with his lips, darted his finger as if it was a bullet, and nodded at me kindly. Then I knew that it was a bullet that had broken the bone. He put on cotton wool and proper splints and proper bandages, and slung the arm up to my side and across my chest, under my shirt, and helped me on with my monkey jacket, and sewed my sleeve to the side. Really the old chap made me very comfortable.He woke the others too, and did Martin's arm—the collar bone was broken—and cleaned Miller's head, and then went away, apparently quite honoured at being able to show his skill. I quite loved the old chap, and he made me so comfortable that I lay down, and when my head was quite still it did not throb so much, and I got in a jolly good sleep.I woke and found the room quite dark, and Miller and Martin both snoring. My head was quite clear now, and I felt much stronger, groped about, and managed to get hold of that bowl of water, drank a little, and then propped myself up against the wall and wondered when that Englishman was going to take us away to Mr. Hobbs and Sally. It was so exciting to think that I should see them soon, that I really forgot that we were prisoners for some time; but then, after waiting and waiting, and hearing nothing except those snores, I began to feel frightened and miserable. I could think now without my head burning inside, and then I thought how I had muddled up all Captain Lester's plans, and "washed out" all that I had done for him. If I had only been man enough not to have minded Captain Marshall's chaff, I shouldn't be here, with my arm broken and a prisoner, and with Martin too; and I was so wretched, that I wished that I had been killed instead of Tuck, that marine whom I had seen fall and dig his nails into the ground. After all I had been longing to do, it had simply come to this, and I snivelled a little, in the dark, for there seemed to be nothing more worth living for.Presently there was a loud boom a long way off, and almost directly afterwards, the sound of a very big shell bursting. That wasn't very near either, but I knew jolly well that nothing could make that noise except one of theVigilant'seight-inch guns, and I could feel my head throbbing inside again with excitement, and wondered what was happening. Then more came, and other smaller ones, from quite a different direction. I had seen an opening in the wall—you couldn't call it a window—just outside the door, and I thought that perhaps the Chinaman would let me look out; so I groped round until I felt the door, and rapped on it with my knuckles. They didn't make much noise, and I kicked it with my feet, and then listened to hear if anyone moved; but there wasn't a sound.I tried to shake the door, and it seemed to "give" towards me, and then to stick in the frame—I felt certain that the wooden beam was not in place—but I couldn't make it budge any more. I woke Miller, and he came across and got his fingers in a crack and pulled, and the door creaked and opened, almost knocking me down. We peered through the darkness and listened, and presently I could hear a clock ticking—it was that old clock I had seen in the Englishman's room."I'm going down," I whispered to Miller. "Help me off with my boots."I got them off, felt that the revolver was still in my pocket, and began creeping down that spiral staircase, keeping to the outside and feeling the wall with my one hand. Every step creaked most horribly, and I waited, trembling, each time, but nothing happened, and then I had turned the corner and saw the bottom, and that some lamplight was coming out of that room."Are you all right, sir?" I heard Miller whisper; and I whispered back and felt braver, and got out the revolver and crept down. I couldn't hear the clock, because my heart was beating so horridly, but I got down to the door and looked in. There was a lamp burning on the writing-table, but not a soul there, and I went through, very softly, into the room where I had had that soup, and there was another lamp burning there, and any amount of food on the table. It looked as if someone had only just finished a meal—a book and a fork were lying on the floor, and the chair had been upset.There was a dark place beyond, with a flickering light in it, as if a fire was burning; but I wasn't plucky enough to go in there, ran back to the foot of the stairs, and could just see Miller's scared face looking down. I beckoned to him to come down, and he did so, making an awful noise, and Martin came too. They got hold of one of the lamps, and I didn't mind going into the kitchen place then. It was quite empty; there was no one there. A funny-looking kettle hung over a small wooden fire, on a big flat stone, and was singing very quietly, and there was a saucepan full of cooked potatoes. They were quite warm, and I seized one and began to eat it. It was jolly good.Miller and Martin were so hungry, that they forgot everything else, and ran back to the table and began "wolfing" food.I had never thought of escape till now; but it flashed across me that perhaps we could get away, and I went back to the foot of the stairs and followed a long passage, towards where I felt some cold air, and suddenly came to an open door, and put my head out.You know what happens when you open the door of a rabbit hutch, and the rabbits come and pop their heads out, and swizzle their noses and blink their eyes, and look as if they didn't believe it, and run back again? Well, that was exactly how I felt and what I did. I ran back to Martin and Miller and told them, and they left off eating and came along with me, and we all three looked out.It was quite dark, except for some stars overhead, and it seemed to be a small courtyard. We stepped out very gingerly—I had my revolver in my hand again—and we searched round, and found a high wall all round, and a very big door all studded with iron bolt heads, and with several thick beams across it.We couldn't hear any noise near us, but there was a funny murmuring, buzzing sound some way off, and just like the sound of the mob at Tinghai that night of the fire, and far away we could hear big guns, and shells bursting."That's our old eight-inch, sir," Miller whispered, as one especially loud report shook the door. "I expects the old man—beggin' your pardon, sir, Captain Lester—is coming along to look for us." The smaller noises, right in the other direction, he said was probably theRingdoveand theOh-my-eyeon the other side of the island (the bluejackets called theOmahatheOh-my-eye). We couldn't really quite understand why they were firing, but it was jolly comforting for all that.I wondered what had become of the Englishman and the Chinaman who had been guarding us, and the servant, and wished he would come back to take us to that house on the hill. Now that I had a revolver, I thought that I might still be some use in defending Sally, if once I got there.I slipped back into the house to see if perhaps he was lying down on the bed and I hadn't noticed him, but he wasn't. The clock showed a quarter past eight, and I knew that it must have been dark for more than an hour, and felt frightened. The noise of the mob seemed to be getting louder and nearer too, and I ran back to Miller and Martin, who were still near the gateway.Just as I got to them we heard some feet pattering along the street outside, and then more and more, and they stopped outside it and began pressing against the gateway, and then began banging at it with something hard.The bangs seemed to go right through me. I was awfully frightened.More people came rushing along; there was a fearful din outside; we heard something scrape against the wall, and someone scrambling up. I looked up and saw a man's head just above me. He was crawling over the top, and was just getting his legs over. I let my revolver off and he dropped back again, though I don't think he was hit, and the crowd began yelling like mad.A rifle went off, the door splintered, and something flew past me. Martin pulled me to one side. "Keep out of the way, sir;" and the two of them hunted round for some piece of wood or other, and came back with some thick sticks. Stones began dropping over, and we crouched under the wall to dodge them. They came in hundreds all over the courtyard, and knocking up against the house. There was a terrific crash against the great gates, and they sounded as if they were giving way."We'll be scuppered, sir," Martin groaned."Run for the house," I whispered; and we rushed back. One stone nearly hit me, and I heard a thud and Miller cursing; but we all got inside and slammed the door, and fumbled about to find the bolts."Go and get a lamp, sir," Miller shouted hoarsely—Martin was too frightened to do anything except get in our way—and I darted off.As I ran along the passage I heard my name shouted, "Mr. Ford, Mr. Ford! Where are you?" and a short, grey-bearded European came rushing out of the kitchen place. I thought at first that it was the Englishman, but it wasn't."Show us how to bar the door," I cried, and he came running with me."Quick, mon, quick! Bar it up—that way; there's the lock—not that way," and he shoved Miller aside and shot the bolts in.I was too frightened to ask him who he was, and even to remember that I hadn't any boots; but Miller sprang up the stairs and brought them down. The man, whoever he was, wouldn't let me put them on, so Miller tied the laces together and hung them over my neck."Follow me!" the Scotchman yelled impatiently—I knew he was Scotch by his accent—and we ran through the sitting-room to the kitchen, and then we crept through a narrow door. He disappeared into the house, but came back, and I saw him shove a big key into his pocket."Be varry careful," he whispered, and we groped our way down some irregular stone steps. We could hear them still banging away at the courtyard door. I kept on bruising my feet and toes in the cracks, and stumbling, but the old Scotchman always seemed to keep me from falling; and at last we seemed to be at the bottom, and near some water—I could hear it lapping against the stones. "Hush!" he whispered, and bent down, stretched out his hand, got hold of a rope, began hauling it in, and a native boat came sliding up, out of the dark."Get in—quick!" he whispered, and we all stumbled in, one after the other, and he jumped in after us. Right above us I could see two lighted windows, and knew they were those two rooms, and as he shoved off we heard a splintering sound—the big door had given way—and heard the mob rushing across the courtyard, yelling in the most fearful manner, and begin banging at the house door.I had hurt my arm again getting into the boat, and the pain of it must have numbed me, because I quite well remember that I wasn't so frightened then as I ought to have been.We could just see the strange man standing up in the stern, swaying from side to side, and working a scull as the boat wriggled through the water."It's aboot twa hours afore high water, and we've the flood wi' us, the Lord be praised!" he whispered. "Keep down oot o' sight," and we tried to squirm down into the bottom of the boat below the gunwales.He stopped and stooped down, and we saw that he was putting on some kind of a Chinaman's coat and a native cap.Then he went on again.CHAPTER XIIIMr. Ching to the RescueJust in Time—Too Late!—In Hiding—Mr. Ching Arrives—Death of Mr. Hoffman—The Attack on the House—The Vigilant Signals—The Fog Increases—Searching for Rifles—Ford finds the Ammunition—Ford Saves the Situation—Waiting for DaybreakWritten by Midshipman FordWe went wriggling along through the dark, and presently began to pass between junks—heaps of them. You could see nothing but their tall leaning masts sticking up like slate pencils. We dodged in and out, and sometimes a voice would sing out from one of them, and we would huddle down in the bottom of the boat, whilst the Scotchman replied in what I suppose was Chinese, and pushed on.We must have gone like this for nearly twenty minutes, I should imagine, and then he stopped to take a breath."Who are you? Where are you taking us?" I whispered; but he didn't answer, and, changing his hands, went on pushing the scull from side to side very vigorously, but stopped a minute or two later and looked behind us, where we could all at once see a great red glow, which showed up the junks we had just passed."They've set a light to the boss's hoose," he whispered; "they'll be after seeking the little lass the noo." And he worked harder and harder, and the shadows got darker and the water more narrow, and I knew that we were getting under some high land, and wondered whether we really were being taken to that house on the hill. Up over our heads we could hear a lot of talking and wrangling, and suddenly a rifle went off, and then another, and we could hear cries, and presently all was quiet again.My heart was simply thumping against my side."God grant we be in time," I heard him say to himself; and he stopped sculling for a second, peered through the darkness, and then shot the boat in till it rasped against some stones."Get oot!" he whispered. "Doan't talk a word, and jest follow me."We got ashore as quickly as we could. He had a piece of rope in his hand, and made us all take hold of it, and we followed him along a steep path. We hadn't gone ten yards when there were more rifle shots and more yells."The Lord be praised! they're still shooting 'em," he said, and hurried along all the faster. I could hardly keep up, and the stones hurt my feet.We seemed to be making a long curve away from the noises and the water, and he kept on losing the path, and we had to shove our way between high bushes, which scratched us; but then we turned to our right, and could see the top of a high wall right in front of us.He broke into a run, we dropped the rope, and ran after him up to a small door. He fumbled for a moment with the lock, it opened, we crept in, and he shut it again.We were in a garden place now, pitch dark, and he led us across it underneath some trees with low branches. The noise of rifles seemed to be right in front of us, and we came to the walls of a house with not a light showing. He knocked at a door; nothing happened. We rushed round to the other side to a smaller one; he tried his key again, and it opened, and an old Chinese woman with a tiny lamp in her hand, and her mouth open with fright, was looking down at us.The Scotchman turned to me. "Go in there; Hobbs and his lassie are there. Get them here in two minutes; I'll be back then. We must get them away. Quick, for God's sake, boy!" and he disappeared.I went in, and heard Sally's voice singing out—very frightened and very sad, it seemed, "Who's that? Is it Captain Evans?""Midshipman Ford of theVigilant," I called out, not knowing the least who Captain Evans was. "We've come to take you away." My aunt! I was proud then; for it suddenly struck me that, after all, I should be able to do something for Captain Lester. Everything had really seemed to work out right, and I expected Sally to come tearing down, and was jolly glad that there wasn't enough light for her to see me; but instead, I heard a sob and then a fall, and guessed what had happened.The old woman brought her light, and I saw that she was lying all in a heap. I hadn't the least idea what to do. "What d'you do for a faint, Miller?" I asked. "You've been through 'first aid'." I was frightened again, and didn't know what to do; but the old Scotchman came rushing into the house, picked her up, took her into another room, and shook her. Miller had got hold of some water and shoved it over her head, and she tried to sit up."Where's Hobbs? Where's your father?" he called to her loudly; and she pointed through another door. And we found the little man lying in bed, looking ghastly; he looked an absolute skeleton.He began to curse the Scotchman, but I stepped between them. "I'm Midshipman Ford of theVigilant, sir, come to fetch you and Miss Hobbs. You must come immediately; these are two of my men."I must say that we didn't look very respectable, but we were good enough for him, and he crawled out of bed and began to dress."I'm too weak to walk much, but reckon I'll do it if it ain't far. You've been a tarnation long while finding us," he grumbled.I don't think that I liked him very much.All this time the noise outside was awful—rifles firing, crowds of people yelling—and stones began to patter against the shutters. The old Scotchman couldn't wait any longer, wrapped the little man in a long Chinese coat, lifted him off his feet, told Miller to bring Sally along, and ran out of the house. "So long as the boss's people keep firing, it's all right," he told me; and then I saw Miller lift Sally in his arms, in spite of her struggles, and we all followed, stones flying past our heads and rebounding from the walls. We went across the garden under those trees, and made our way back to that small door. The Scotchman put Mr. Hobbs on his feet, and I heard him trying to get the key in the lock; but just as he was going to open it, there was the sound of a whole lot of people running towards it, and they threw their shoulders against it and began talking very softly.I was very frightened again, and I heard the Scotchman moan: "Too late! We're done for!" and we all fled back to the house.The front of it was now all lighted up with a red glare, showing above the top of the wall."They're setting fire to the huts," he cried; "go up to the top room. Take them up there, bar the door at the front, and block it up with tables—anything." And he rushed off, came back for his revolver, which he had given to Martin, and disappeared."Guess Sally Hobbs ain't a ten-cent doll," I heard her sob. "You can put me down right away." She led us along some passages, up some steps, and then to the foot of a ladder. The little man got up it like a monkey, and she followed him."Draw it up, and let it down when you hear us call," I sang out; and then we went back and began to pull along tables and benches and boxes, everything we could find, and piled them up behind the door in the front of the house. Before we had finished, the Scotchman came running up with his hands over his head. "We're fair lost! God be merciful to us! The boss's men want to know where he is, and won't hold out many more minutes unless he turns up. They want to open the gates; say they'll get their throats cut if they don't. Jorgensen has been killed—down in the town—two hours ago—down by that six-inch gun.""Can't you do anything?" I asked quickly."No, mon, they hate me; and I fear they've killed the boss, and no one else can keep them in hand. They're all round us, and they've tasted blood, and the mandarins themselves couldn't stop them."Hark!" he said, "they're beating down the little door in the garden wall. Oh, God, they'll be right here in a moment!"I was in an awful funk, though not for myself, I think, but more because of Sally. When one isn't in a funk for oneself it is easier to keep one's head. I don't think that Miller or myself cared a scrap what happened to us, so long as we could keep Sally safe. The Scotchman told us to bring any heavy things we could find to block up the door at the back, and then ran off and brought some rifles and bandoliers.We bolted the door and piled everything we could find against it, and then ran round, barring the shutters. We didn't need any lamp, because the red glare streamed through the cracks and lighted up the whole place. The old woman had disappeared. Then we picked up the rifles and bandoliers, and he led us to the ladder, Sally crying out and lowering it. We all swarmed up and drew it after us.The room was a small square place, with stone walls and narrow openings—you could hardly call them windows—in each wall. They were closed with iron shutters, and the one looking over the front was open, and the whole place was lighted up. The Scotchman and I looked out, and it was a most awesome sight.Down below, about twenty yards from the foot of the house, was the wall and the big gateway, and behind it were the Englishman's men, stooping down to load and then popping up and firing. They seemed to be standing on some kind of platform or ledge, and were not taking the trouble to aim.Out beyond there were flames pouring up from half a dozen huts, and we could hardly hear their noise because of the fearful shouts and yells from a dense crowd of people in between us and them.They must have seen our faces in the light of the fires, for they yelled more loudly than ever, and we could see them bending down and then throwing stones at us. Stones began clattering against the outside wall all round us, and one came flying into the room, and I heard Sally sob with fright. We drew in our heads and closed the shutter, but before I drew in mine I am certain that I saw one of the Chinamen inside the wall point his rifle at us and fire. The room was almost dark now, except for one streak of light which came through a gap at one edge of the shutter, and just made light enough for us to see each other. Mr. Hobbs was lying full length on the floor near a wall, and Sally was lying down too, with her head on his chest, and moaning. I did wish she would leave off, because it made us all so much more frightened.Directly we had closed the shutter, stones began clattering against it—and, I'm certain, some bullets too—and we heard a rush, and the mob charged the big gateway.We could still hear the ships firing. "My God, I wish they'd come!" I heard Miller mutter; and that was what I had been praying all the time.The noise at the back of the garden seemed to have stopped; but the firing from the wall was easing down too, and the Scotchman groaned out, "They're going to leave us;" and Sally, who seemed almost "off her head", kept on moaning, "Why doesn't Captain Evans come?"I felt that I should go mad in a minute if I didn't do something. Miller must have thought the same. "It's no use sitting 'ere to get killed, sir. Can't we do something? Can't we fire at them? We've got three rifles." But the Scotchman wouldn't let us open the shutter."Keep still, mon; they haven't all left us yet," and we could still hear a few rifles firing from inside the wall.Just for something to do, I began pulling on my boots—they were still tied round my neck with the laces—and it was awfully hard work with only one hand, and they were all sodden and stiff; but Miller helped me. We had just finished, when suddenly there was a rush of feet underneath us at the back of the house, and a furious battering noise on the shutters."They've broken in!" the Scotchman groaned, and Sally shrieked and buried her head in her lap. Miller seized a rifle and jumped across, pushed her out of the way, opened the shutter at the back, and leant out. I saw him load it, and he was just going to fire, when there were cries of "Sally! Sally! Open the door!" and more hammering."HE WAS JUST GOING TO FIRE""HE WAS JUST GOING TO FIRE"We jumped to our feet. Sally shrieked that it was Captain Evans come to save her, Miller roared "Who's there?" and we heard someone sing out, "Who are you? Is Sally safe?"I knew the voice; it was Mr. Ching's, the Lieutenant on board theHuan Min. I forgot all about my arm, and jumped over to where Miller was. "Get out of the way!" I cried, and yelled down, "Midshipman Ford of theVigilant. There are six of us up here, and Miss Hobbs is all right.""Come down and let me in.""Right you are, sir!" I shouted, and drew in my head."Isn't it Captain Evans?" Sally asked me."No. Mr. Ching of theHuan Min"She moaned and began crying again.We lowered the ladder and scrambled down, pulled the things away from the door at the back, and opened it, and there was Mr. Ching and twenty or thirty of his men, all crowding round.I could only say, "Thank you very much, sir," and should have blubbed if I'd tried to say any more."Hoffman brought us, showed us a path up from the water. He's gone to try and keep order. Can she come away at once?"I don't know what I was going to say. It didn't make any difference, because the noise at the other side of the house suddenly grew fearfully loud, and we heard the gates give way and swing back with a crash, and the mob rush through with frightful yells of triumph. Mr. Ching gave an order, and ran round to the front of the house, and I found myself following him with Miller behind me.Some more men joined him at the corner, and then we came out into the glare and saw the bright gap in the dark wall made by the gates being open, and a mob sweeping up to the house. They had torches and blazing tufts of straw on poles. A few of the Chinamen inside the wall were trying to keep them back, but I could see most of them dropping over the wall outside.Mr. Ching's people fired a volley into the mob, and then another, and some shots came from the room I'd just left—the Scotchman and Martin firing, I expect.The mob didn't seem to have expected any resistance, and stopped and left off shouting. I could see many of them throw their hands up and fall, and there were shrieks and screams, the blazing bits of straw fell on the ground and were trampled out, and they began to fly back through the gateway.I was swept along with Mr. Ching's men, and found myself in the gateway. Some of them were swinging back one side of it, and pulling aside bodies which were in the way.Someone was trying to crawl away as the big gate swung towards him. It was Mr. Hoffman. I could see him well, and just managed to pull his legs clear as it swung to. He didn't recognize me."You hurt, sir?" I asked him."Shot through the chest; get me into a corner. Is Sally safe?"Miller was nowhere to be seen, and I couldn't make any of theHuan Min'sbluejackets understand. They were too excited."Try and get hold of me; get hold of my coat."He grabbed at my left side; I gave a yell with the pain of it. "Not that side; the other, sir," and he got his fingers into the slit of my other pocket and drew himself on his knees, spitting blood out of his mouth and coughing.Supporting himself like that, and with the other hand on the ground, he managed to crawl back to the house and then rolled on his back."Who are you?" he asked."I'm Ford of theVigilant.""Thank God you are safe! I'm dying. Bring Sally to me;" and he coughed again."It's not safe for her here; I'll try and get you round to the back."I heard my name called, and ran towards the gate, and there was Mr. Ching looking for me. "Where is Hoffman? Are you all ready to start? We can keep them off for a time," he panted.I pointed to where Mr. Hoffman was lying. "He's shot through the chest. He's dying. He can't move."Mr. Ching groaned. "We shall have to stay here till daylight. I can never find my way back without him."I forgot about the Scotchman.The last of his bluejackets rushed back through the gate, the other half were swung across, and we were in darkness again, except for the glare over the top of the wall. Bullets were now spattering against the front of the house, and bits of plaster were trickling down, and we knew that the Chinamen from inside must have joined the mob. Mr. Ching rushed off to place his men round the wall, and I went back to Mr. Hoffman. He was trying to pull himself up against the side of the house, and I gave him my right shoulder to lean upon, and we got round to the back like that and to the door; but he couldn't drag himself over the boxes and piles of things heaped there, and lay down with his head on the stone slab, half in and half out of the door."Get me some water and bring Sally," he whispered. "I'm finished. God have mercy on me!"I couldn't see his face—it was so dark—but his voice sounded awful.I was trembling all over, and scrambled in and called out for Sally. I forgot to call her Miss Hobbs.She was still in that small room, and I heard her crawling across the floor. I heard the Scotchman and Martin firing out of the window too."What is it?" she asked in a scared voice. "Are we safe? Has Captain Evans come?""Come down with me. Mr. Hoffman's dying, and wants to see you."She wouldn't come for some time; and when she did come she was trembling all over, and I had to steady her with my right arm along the passage.We found a tin with some water in it, and I took her to Mr. Hoffman, where we could just see him lying."Thank God!" I heard him whisper, when she bent over him.I went away, wanting to cry.Then I suddenly remembered that the Scotchman could guide us down to the water, and ran off to find Mr. Ching, but couldn't.Miller appeared from somewhere."That old Scotchman could guide us back," I said. "Where's Mr. Ching?""That ain't no good, sir," he said. "They're all round us now, 'undreds and 'undreds of 'em, an' 'e's got only fifty men with 'im." Then I noticed that bullets were coming from the back of the house as well, and heard furious firing near the little gate by which we had entered."That Chinese Lootenant is over there now, sir."I went across for him, but couldn't find him. His people were outside the little doorway, firing into the dark, and he must have been there too, and I didn't dare to go out. I couldn't see a yard in front of me.I think I must have been too absolutely "done up" then to do anything more, and I really forget what I did and what happened. I know that I sat down on a stone somewhere near that small doorway, and rested my head on my knees, and squeezed my left arm to change the pain of it. I know that rifles were going oft all round me, and people were shrieking and yelling, and sometimes I heard Miller's voice shouting; but everything seemed to buzz round in my head, and nothing seemed to matter in the least.I rather fancy that my idea was to wait there till Mr. Ching came back, and tell him about the Scotchman.I was roused by hearing the door slammed and being nearly knocked over. Mr. Ching saw me. "Get along back to the house," he gasped—his face was streaming with blood—"I can't hold the walls any longer. I have not enough men;" and he more or less lifted me to my feet and gave me a push, and I went staggering along with my legs giving way under me.I remember seeing Mr. Hoffman lying flat on his back, with his face turned up and his eyes looking at me, and remember speaking to him; but he didn't answer. Sally wasn't there either, and I stepped across him, and somehow or other found myself stumbling up the ladder into that room, and heard Sally sobbing in a corner. I was shivering, and my teeth were chattering, and that horrid sick feeling came on again.Just as I got to the bottom of the ladder a stream of fire shot up across one of the windows, and I heard a rushing noise, as if it were a rocket; but I didn't take any notice of it, for everything seemed to be going round and round People crowded up after me, and pushed me aside, and began firing out of the windows, and the room felt stuffy and full of powder smoke. Sometimes someone would give a cry, and once someone fell across my legs, and I tried to pull them from under him, but couldn't, and let them stop there, and remember that the weight was pulled away presently, and I was pushed nearer the wall, and someone gave me some water.
* * * * *
I don't remember anything more till I woke with a splitting headache, feeling as if I wanted to be sick and couldn't be. It was almost dark. I thought that I'd had a nightmare—I often did, after too much gunroom tinned salmon—and wondered why the lanterns had gone out. You know how you often wake up and think that you are in some strange place, and gradually work things out till they come right again.
That's what I tried to do, but I couldn't fix things, and one eye didn't seem to work, and I wondered why I had my boots and my uniform on, and why it was all so wet. I put out my arm to feel if Jim's hammock was in its place, and then I let out a yell and rolled back pretty quickly.
That yell seemed to blow away the cobwebs, and I lay back and began to make out that I was lying on a funny kind of floor, in a small room with whitewashed walls and a broken-down roof, with straw hanging through the cracks. The walls seemed to be made of bricks and mud, and one had a door in it and a small square opening above it, through which a little light came. Someone close to me began to move, and then sat up, very slowly. It was Martin, the gunroom "flat" sentry, and then I remembered that he had saved me from being choked, and all the things that had happened came back to me all at once.
"Where are we?" I asked.
He gave me a startled look. "Crickey, sir, beggin' your pardon, you does look a awful sight!"
"What's the matter? What's happened?" I felt that it was awkward to talk, my lips felt uncomfortable, and I put my hand up to my face and it felt all raw and swollen. I couldn't see at all if I shut my right eye, so knew that my left one was closed up.
"Kicked you in the face, sir, and dragged you away afore we could stop 'em."
"What!" I said, very alarmed. "The Commander not here? Where am I?"
"I don't exactly know where we be, sir, but them pirate chaps 'ave got 'old of us, and Old Tinker Bill too; 'e was brought in 'ere after us."
Then I saw that there was a bluejacket lying asleep on the other side of him, and he dug him in the ribs—"'Ere, wake up, Tinker!" and he sat up growling.
I saw that it was Miller, one of the armourers, and I remembered that he had gone with Mr. Whitmore's party, and I forgot all about worrying about where we were for a second.
"Did we smash that gun?" I cried, and tried to sit up in my excitement, but fell back again pretty quickly—my left arm was so painful every time I tried to move.
Miller yawned and shook his head dolefully: "We never got nowhere near it, sir. Jerusalem!" he gasped, "you do look a fair 'knock-out', sir, that you does."
"Well, tell me. What happened? Did Mr. Rawlings get hurt?"
Then he told me that Mr. Hoffman had guided them all right, but they made a goodish deal of noise themselves, and our party (the Commander's party) had given the alarm too soon, and they simply found themselves running into hundreds of Chinese, and had to fall back again.
"You see, sir, it was like this. We went along all right till those huts began a burnin', but the light from 'em just gave the show away, and let 'em see where to fire. Mr. Rawlings was knocked over, an' a lot more, sir, an' the last as I seed of 'em was going back, very slow, a-carryin' some people, an' stoppin' and firin' back—occasional."
And all the time we had thought how jolly comforting those flames were, and that they might help them to find their way back. I tried to get more from him about Jim, but he didn't know any more, except that there had been a lot of firing, and he had seen him fall, and two men lift him up. But that was enough to make me feel frightfully sad, though I didn't really seem to imagine that it was all quite real; and the pain in my head was so bad, and my arm was so painful, and I was so stiff and cold and cramped all over, that nothing could make me much more miserable, not even knowing that we had been captured by the pirates, or Jim had been badly wounded.
"I fell into a ditch or something," Miller went on, "an lost my way and got be'ind'and, and tried a-takin' a short cut, and something 'it me on the head and fair dazed me, and them ugly devils came up and collared me—came up from be'ind, they did. I never got a chance.
"I've got a bit of a scratch 'ere, sir," and he crawled over to me, and stooped to show me a groove across the top of his head. A bullet must have done it, and the hair was all matted together with blood.
"How did they catch you?" I asked Martin.
"Well, it was like this, sir. I saw 'em a-picking of you up—that not being so difficult, beggin' your pardon—and, not thinking, I slipped along arter you, forgettin' that I'd only got one arm that 'ud work. Well, sir, I got separated from them two others, and had 'em 'eathens all round me, and they got the best of it, sir." He was very gloomy, and lifted his left arm a little way from his side. "Ain't no good, sir! Somethink's broke in my shoulder."
Miller had found a bowl full of water, and that made me remember how thirsty I was, and he knelt down and gave me some too, holding my head up. It was jolly difficult to drink, my lips were so swollen, and a good deal of it ran down my neck, but it was jolly refreshing.
"What's the matter with my arm?" I asked him. "I think it's broken."
He took hold of it very gingerly, whilst I held on to the wrist and jammed my teeth together, and then I saw by the funny way the sleeve bent up halfway above the elbow that it must be broken. I felt the broken ends grate together when he tried to move it. Oh! it was so painful.
He knew something about bandaging and splints, and tore down some of the thin rafters and lashed them on each side of it with his black silk handkerchief, and that made it more comfortable, and I managed to get on my feet. I felt an awful wreck, and was as weak as a mouse.
We were all plastered with mud and green slime, and were wet and horrid. I had lost one of my gaiters and my cap, and my revolver, lanyard, and cartridge belt were gone; but I didn't really worry, because I felt too ill, and my head throbbed so much that I had to lie down again, and it was impossible to think properly, because everything was going round and round inside it.
There was a noise on the outside of that door, and it opened very slowly, whilst we all stared at it, and a Chinaman put his head very slowly in, looked at us, saw me turn to look at him, drew it back again, and shut the door. I suppose he must have heard us talking. I think that I must have gone to sleep after this, because the next I remember was a tall, gloomy-looking man standing over me. "You're an officer, aren't you?" he asked me, and I told him that I was a midshipman.
"Come down with me," he said, and helped me to my feet, and supported me down a spiral wooden staircase.
He got me into a room below, which was fitted up with European furniture—a writing-table, some cane easy chairs, and a camp bed. He made me sit down, and began pacing up and down the room. There was a clock on the table, and I saw that it was nearly midday. He went on pacing backwards and forwards, and I wondered whether he was the Englishman who had stolen Mr. Hoffman's yacht. I hadn't the least idea what was going to happen. Then he took down a shaving glass and held it in front of me.
My aunt! I was a sight, if you like. All the left side of my forehead and face was black and blue, and my left eye was quite shut up, and my upper lip was tremendously swollen and cut. No wonder that Miller and Martin had been surprised when they saw me.
He smiled grimly, put the glass down, and just then a Chinese servant came in and spoke to him.
"I have some food ready for you; come and take some, it will do you good," he said, and led me into the next room, where there was a big bowl of hot soup. The sight of it made me feel ill; but I swallowed a little, and found that it was doing me good, and managed to get through it all. It was jolly painful to put the spoon in my mouth.
He told me that he had sent some food up to Martin and Miller, and that an old native who "doctored" for him was coming soon.
He seemed strangely worried, and couldn't sit still. I should think that quite a dozen Chinamen must have come in whilst I was getting through that soup and soaking bread in it. They all seemed very excited when they saw me. Most of them scowled at me. Several of them were plump, prosperous-looking men, jolly well dressed, but others looked more like soldiers or sailors, great bony, leather-skinned, fierce-looking fellows. He seemed to have trouble with them, and once or twice spoke very angrily. I noticed, too, that whenever any of them came in, he put his hand to his pocket. I think, from the bulge, that he had a revolver there.
He didn't look in the least fierce, except when he was angry—not at all like a man who could have done all those wicked things—and I began wondering whether he could really be the man everyone had been cursing. I suddenly thought of Mr. Travers, and blurted out, "We've got Mr. Travers back—that lieutenant you caught"—and, like the conceited ass I am, said, "I found him."
"I know," he said bitterly; "I never wanted to take him along; it was either killing him or taking him prisoner, just as it was with you and those two men. He fought like a demon, simply threw himself on us, and had a revolver, too. I had to knock him on the head and take him along. You'd better not let those people you've just seen know that you were the one who found him. They've vowed to torture every one of those junks' crews who fall into their hands."
I wished then that I hadn't spoken.
He began working himself into a passion, and his face did look wicked. He was tall and lean and very good looking, and he clenched his fists, and jerked his arms about, and began cursing everyone—Captain Lester, the Admiral, Mr. Hoffman, himself, and Mr. Hobbs.
"How are they? How's Sally?" I asked; but he didn't seem to hear the first time, and raved about his cursed bad luck. Presently I asked again.
"I wish to heavens I'd never set eyes on either of them."
"Why don't you send them back to us?" I asked.
"Send 'em back? I daren't; my life isn't worth an hour's purchase now, and they'd never let me. They'd kill them first, and me too. I don't run this show—not really; it's run by some of those Chinese mandarins—two or three of those who've just been in here. They think that as long as Hobbs and his daughter are in their hands they can get theer ransom, and that your old fool bull dog of a Skipper don't dare touch them. They want me to marry the girl—to make it more certain."
"We thought that you were trying to marry her," I said stupidly.
"That's nothing to do with it—nothing to do with you," he jerked out very fiercely.
"If your fool Captain will run his head up against us, I shall have to marry her to save her life and mine too."
"That's what those fat, oily-looking beasts want to do, and want me to do; and those other bloodthirsty rascals want to cut their throats and have done with them, say they've only brought us trouble, and wish to get back to their old established pirate business," he added, sneering.
"I've got them in the only strong walled house in the town, and I've got a hundred of my best men to guard them, but I can't trust 'em."
"If I'm caught I hang," he began shouting—I really thought that he'd forgotten me—"and if she knows that it will save my life, I believe she will marry me. If things go wrong I go, and directly I go, you all go—Hobbs and all of you, and the poor girl too" (he clenched his hands across his forehead). "We've the scum of the Yangste here. They'd cut my throat for a cent if I left off being useful to them, and they'll cut all your throats for pure devilment."
He sank down on a chair and stared in front of him.
I had dropped my spoon and was very frightened.
A man came running in with a letter, talking very fast. He gave a horrid smile when he had read it. "It's from your fool Captain. Wants to know whether you're alive, and says if any harm comes to you, he'll do I don't know what."
"Go back upstairs and don't move till I tell you;" and he sat down at the writing-table.
"Please tell the Captain that I'm well, all but my arm, and that it was my fault that I was captured, not the Commander's," I asked him, because I had been worrying about that all the time, and knew that the Commander must have had an awful time with Captain Lester, and that that would be unfair. I knew jolly well that I'd made an ass of myself, and made things worse and more difficult for everyone by getting myself and Martin taken prisoners.
He nodded grimly.
"Do tell me whether they all got away safely last night?" I blurted out.
"They left one marine dead, no one else." He began to work himself into a passion again. "My men almost got out of hand last night—I'd a hard job to keep them back—and if that old fool of yours lands again I shall lose all control over them. He won't believe what I wrote to him, so I'm going to write it stronger this time. If he comes lumbering along here they'll all see 'red', and kill every white man they can get hold of—and woman." Then he suddenly came across and gripped my shoulder. "A thousand years ago—eight hundred years ago—a girl wouldn't marry a man unless he did something to win her—sacked a town and carried her off. Now they want flowers, and chocolates, and candies, and pretty speeches—ugh!"
Then he grew calmer.
"Go along up now—Ford your name is, I see—and wait till dusk. I'll try and get you all over to that walled house. It's your only chance."
I was just going, when he called out, "In case anything happens, you had better take this," and he opened a drawer and pulled out a revolver and a couple of packets of ammunition. "They say it's easier to die fighting," and he turned his back on me.
Feeling very frightened, and not quite understanding what he'd been talking about, I crawled upstairs, the Chinaman outside the door scowled at me, opened it and shut it after me, and I heard him swing the big wooden bar into its hole.
Martin and Miller were asleep—they evidently had had a jolly good meal—and presently a funny, jovial, fat old Chinaman came along and looked at my arm. He took my coat off and cut the sleeve of my flannel shirt, and the arm was a most horrid sight, absolutely all mottled purple from the elbow to the shoulder. He showed me two tiny holes, made a "poof" noise with his lips, darted his finger as if it was a bullet, and nodded at me kindly. Then I knew that it was a bullet that had broken the bone. He put on cotton wool and proper splints and proper bandages, and slung the arm up to my side and across my chest, under my shirt, and helped me on with my monkey jacket, and sewed my sleeve to the side. Really the old chap made me very comfortable.
He woke the others too, and did Martin's arm—the collar bone was broken—and cleaned Miller's head, and then went away, apparently quite honoured at being able to show his skill. I quite loved the old chap, and he made me so comfortable that I lay down, and when my head was quite still it did not throb so much, and I got in a jolly good sleep.
I woke and found the room quite dark, and Miller and Martin both snoring. My head was quite clear now, and I felt much stronger, groped about, and managed to get hold of that bowl of water, drank a little, and then propped myself up against the wall and wondered when that Englishman was going to take us away to Mr. Hobbs and Sally. It was so exciting to think that I should see them soon, that I really forgot that we were prisoners for some time; but then, after waiting and waiting, and hearing nothing except those snores, I began to feel frightened and miserable. I could think now without my head burning inside, and then I thought how I had muddled up all Captain Lester's plans, and "washed out" all that I had done for him. If I had only been man enough not to have minded Captain Marshall's chaff, I shouldn't be here, with my arm broken and a prisoner, and with Martin too; and I was so wretched, that I wished that I had been killed instead of Tuck, that marine whom I had seen fall and dig his nails into the ground. After all I had been longing to do, it had simply come to this, and I snivelled a little, in the dark, for there seemed to be nothing more worth living for.
Presently there was a loud boom a long way off, and almost directly afterwards, the sound of a very big shell bursting. That wasn't very near either, but I knew jolly well that nothing could make that noise except one of theVigilant'seight-inch guns, and I could feel my head throbbing inside again with excitement, and wondered what was happening. Then more came, and other smaller ones, from quite a different direction. I had seen an opening in the wall—you couldn't call it a window—just outside the door, and I thought that perhaps the Chinaman would let me look out; so I groped round until I felt the door, and rapped on it with my knuckles. They didn't make much noise, and I kicked it with my feet, and then listened to hear if anyone moved; but there wasn't a sound.
I tried to shake the door, and it seemed to "give" towards me, and then to stick in the frame—I felt certain that the wooden beam was not in place—but I couldn't make it budge any more. I woke Miller, and he came across and got his fingers in a crack and pulled, and the door creaked and opened, almost knocking me down. We peered through the darkness and listened, and presently I could hear a clock ticking—it was that old clock I had seen in the Englishman's room.
"I'm going down," I whispered to Miller. "Help me off with my boots."
I got them off, felt that the revolver was still in my pocket, and began creeping down that spiral staircase, keeping to the outside and feeling the wall with my one hand. Every step creaked most horribly, and I waited, trembling, each time, but nothing happened, and then I had turned the corner and saw the bottom, and that some lamplight was coming out of that room.
"Are you all right, sir?" I heard Miller whisper; and I whispered back and felt braver, and got out the revolver and crept down. I couldn't hear the clock, because my heart was beating so horridly, but I got down to the door and looked in. There was a lamp burning on the writing-table, but not a soul there, and I went through, very softly, into the room where I had had that soup, and there was another lamp burning there, and any amount of food on the table. It looked as if someone had only just finished a meal—a book and a fork were lying on the floor, and the chair had been upset.
There was a dark place beyond, with a flickering light in it, as if a fire was burning; but I wasn't plucky enough to go in there, ran back to the foot of the stairs, and could just see Miller's scared face looking down. I beckoned to him to come down, and he did so, making an awful noise, and Martin came too. They got hold of one of the lamps, and I didn't mind going into the kitchen place then. It was quite empty; there was no one there. A funny-looking kettle hung over a small wooden fire, on a big flat stone, and was singing very quietly, and there was a saucepan full of cooked potatoes. They were quite warm, and I seized one and began to eat it. It was jolly good.
Miller and Martin were so hungry, that they forgot everything else, and ran back to the table and began "wolfing" food.
I had never thought of escape till now; but it flashed across me that perhaps we could get away, and I went back to the foot of the stairs and followed a long passage, towards where I felt some cold air, and suddenly came to an open door, and put my head out.
You know what happens when you open the door of a rabbit hutch, and the rabbits come and pop their heads out, and swizzle their noses and blink their eyes, and look as if they didn't believe it, and run back again? Well, that was exactly how I felt and what I did. I ran back to Martin and Miller and told them, and they left off eating and came along with me, and we all three looked out.
It was quite dark, except for some stars overhead, and it seemed to be a small courtyard. We stepped out very gingerly—I had my revolver in my hand again—and we searched round, and found a high wall all round, and a very big door all studded with iron bolt heads, and with several thick beams across it.
We couldn't hear any noise near us, but there was a funny murmuring, buzzing sound some way off, and just like the sound of the mob at Tinghai that night of the fire, and far away we could hear big guns, and shells bursting.
"That's our old eight-inch, sir," Miller whispered, as one especially loud report shook the door. "I expects the old man—beggin' your pardon, sir, Captain Lester—is coming along to look for us." The smaller noises, right in the other direction, he said was probably theRingdoveand theOh-my-eyeon the other side of the island (the bluejackets called theOmahatheOh-my-eye). We couldn't really quite understand why they were firing, but it was jolly comforting for all that.
I wondered what had become of the Englishman and the Chinaman who had been guarding us, and the servant, and wished he would come back to take us to that house on the hill. Now that I had a revolver, I thought that I might still be some use in defending Sally, if once I got there.
I slipped back into the house to see if perhaps he was lying down on the bed and I hadn't noticed him, but he wasn't. The clock showed a quarter past eight, and I knew that it must have been dark for more than an hour, and felt frightened. The noise of the mob seemed to be getting louder and nearer too, and I ran back to Miller and Martin, who were still near the gateway.
Just as I got to them we heard some feet pattering along the street outside, and then more and more, and they stopped outside it and began pressing against the gateway, and then began banging at it with something hard.
The bangs seemed to go right through me. I was awfully frightened.
More people came rushing along; there was a fearful din outside; we heard something scrape against the wall, and someone scrambling up. I looked up and saw a man's head just above me. He was crawling over the top, and was just getting his legs over. I let my revolver off and he dropped back again, though I don't think he was hit, and the crowd began yelling like mad.
A rifle went off, the door splintered, and something flew past me. Martin pulled me to one side. "Keep out of the way, sir;" and the two of them hunted round for some piece of wood or other, and came back with some thick sticks. Stones began dropping over, and we crouched under the wall to dodge them. They came in hundreds all over the courtyard, and knocking up against the house. There was a terrific crash against the great gates, and they sounded as if they were giving way.
"We'll be scuppered, sir," Martin groaned.
"Run for the house," I whispered; and we rushed back. One stone nearly hit me, and I heard a thud and Miller cursing; but we all got inside and slammed the door, and fumbled about to find the bolts.
"Go and get a lamp, sir," Miller shouted hoarsely—Martin was too frightened to do anything except get in our way—and I darted off.
As I ran along the passage I heard my name shouted, "Mr. Ford, Mr. Ford! Where are you?" and a short, grey-bearded European came rushing out of the kitchen place. I thought at first that it was the Englishman, but it wasn't.
"Show us how to bar the door," I cried, and he came running with me.
"Quick, mon, quick! Bar it up—that way; there's the lock—not that way," and he shoved Miller aside and shot the bolts in.
I was too frightened to ask him who he was, and even to remember that I hadn't any boots; but Miller sprang up the stairs and brought them down. The man, whoever he was, wouldn't let me put them on, so Miller tied the laces together and hung them over my neck.
"Follow me!" the Scotchman yelled impatiently—I knew he was Scotch by his accent—and we ran through the sitting-room to the kitchen, and then we crept through a narrow door. He disappeared into the house, but came back, and I saw him shove a big key into his pocket.
"Be varry careful," he whispered, and we groped our way down some irregular stone steps. We could hear them still banging away at the courtyard door. I kept on bruising my feet and toes in the cracks, and stumbling, but the old Scotchman always seemed to keep me from falling; and at last we seemed to be at the bottom, and near some water—I could hear it lapping against the stones. "Hush!" he whispered, and bent down, stretched out his hand, got hold of a rope, began hauling it in, and a native boat came sliding up, out of the dark.
"Get in—quick!" he whispered, and we all stumbled in, one after the other, and he jumped in after us. Right above us I could see two lighted windows, and knew they were those two rooms, and as he shoved off we heard a splintering sound—the big door had given way—and heard the mob rushing across the courtyard, yelling in the most fearful manner, and begin banging at the house door.
I had hurt my arm again getting into the boat, and the pain of it must have numbed me, because I quite well remember that I wasn't so frightened then as I ought to have been.
We could just see the strange man standing up in the stern, swaying from side to side, and working a scull as the boat wriggled through the water.
"It's aboot twa hours afore high water, and we've the flood wi' us, the Lord be praised!" he whispered. "Keep down oot o' sight," and we tried to squirm down into the bottom of the boat below the gunwales.
He stopped and stooped down, and we saw that he was putting on some kind of a Chinaman's coat and a native cap.
Then he went on again.
CHAPTER XIII
Mr. Ching to the Rescue
Just in Time—Too Late!—In Hiding—Mr. Ching Arrives—Death of Mr. Hoffman—The Attack on the House—The Vigilant Signals—The Fog Increases—Searching for Rifles—Ford finds the Ammunition—Ford Saves the Situation—Waiting for Daybreak
Just in Time—Too Late!—In Hiding—Mr. Ching Arrives—Death of Mr. Hoffman—The Attack on the House—The Vigilant Signals—The Fog Increases—Searching for Rifles—Ford finds the Ammunition—Ford Saves the Situation—Waiting for Daybreak
Just in Time—Too Late!—In Hiding—Mr. Ching Arrives—Death of Mr. Hoffman—The Attack on the House—The Vigilant Signals—The Fog Increases—Searching for Rifles—Ford finds the Ammunition—Ford Saves the Situation—Waiting for Daybreak
Written by Midshipman Ford
We went wriggling along through the dark, and presently began to pass between junks—heaps of them. You could see nothing but their tall leaning masts sticking up like slate pencils. We dodged in and out, and sometimes a voice would sing out from one of them, and we would huddle down in the bottom of the boat, whilst the Scotchman replied in what I suppose was Chinese, and pushed on.
We must have gone like this for nearly twenty minutes, I should imagine, and then he stopped to take a breath.
"Who are you? Where are you taking us?" I whispered; but he didn't answer, and, changing his hands, went on pushing the scull from side to side very vigorously, but stopped a minute or two later and looked behind us, where we could all at once see a great red glow, which showed up the junks we had just passed.
"They've set a light to the boss's hoose," he whispered; "they'll be after seeking the little lass the noo." And he worked harder and harder, and the shadows got darker and the water more narrow, and I knew that we were getting under some high land, and wondered whether we really were being taken to that house on the hill. Up over our heads we could hear a lot of talking and wrangling, and suddenly a rifle went off, and then another, and we could hear cries, and presently all was quiet again.
My heart was simply thumping against my side.
"God grant we be in time," I heard him say to himself; and he stopped sculling for a second, peered through the darkness, and then shot the boat in till it rasped against some stones.
"Get oot!" he whispered. "Doan't talk a word, and jest follow me."
We got ashore as quickly as we could. He had a piece of rope in his hand, and made us all take hold of it, and we followed him along a steep path. We hadn't gone ten yards when there were more rifle shots and more yells.
"The Lord be praised! they're still shooting 'em," he said, and hurried along all the faster. I could hardly keep up, and the stones hurt my feet.
We seemed to be making a long curve away from the noises and the water, and he kept on losing the path, and we had to shove our way between high bushes, which scratched us; but then we turned to our right, and could see the top of a high wall right in front of us.
He broke into a run, we dropped the rope, and ran after him up to a small door. He fumbled for a moment with the lock, it opened, we crept in, and he shut it again.
We were in a garden place now, pitch dark, and he led us across it underneath some trees with low branches. The noise of rifles seemed to be right in front of us, and we came to the walls of a house with not a light showing. He knocked at a door; nothing happened. We rushed round to the other side to a smaller one; he tried his key again, and it opened, and an old Chinese woman with a tiny lamp in her hand, and her mouth open with fright, was looking down at us.
The Scotchman turned to me. "Go in there; Hobbs and his lassie are there. Get them here in two minutes; I'll be back then. We must get them away. Quick, for God's sake, boy!" and he disappeared.
I went in, and heard Sally's voice singing out—very frightened and very sad, it seemed, "Who's that? Is it Captain Evans?"
"Midshipman Ford of theVigilant," I called out, not knowing the least who Captain Evans was. "We've come to take you away." My aunt! I was proud then; for it suddenly struck me that, after all, I should be able to do something for Captain Lester. Everything had really seemed to work out right, and I expected Sally to come tearing down, and was jolly glad that there wasn't enough light for her to see me; but instead, I heard a sob and then a fall, and guessed what had happened.
The old woman brought her light, and I saw that she was lying all in a heap. I hadn't the least idea what to do. "What d'you do for a faint, Miller?" I asked. "You've been through 'first aid'." I was frightened again, and didn't know what to do; but the old Scotchman came rushing into the house, picked her up, took her into another room, and shook her. Miller had got hold of some water and shoved it over her head, and she tried to sit up.
"Where's Hobbs? Where's your father?" he called to her loudly; and she pointed through another door. And we found the little man lying in bed, looking ghastly; he looked an absolute skeleton.
He began to curse the Scotchman, but I stepped between them. "I'm Midshipman Ford of theVigilant, sir, come to fetch you and Miss Hobbs. You must come immediately; these are two of my men."
I must say that we didn't look very respectable, but we were good enough for him, and he crawled out of bed and began to dress.
"I'm too weak to walk much, but reckon I'll do it if it ain't far. You've been a tarnation long while finding us," he grumbled.
I don't think that I liked him very much.
All this time the noise outside was awful—rifles firing, crowds of people yelling—and stones began to patter against the shutters. The old Scotchman couldn't wait any longer, wrapped the little man in a long Chinese coat, lifted him off his feet, told Miller to bring Sally along, and ran out of the house. "So long as the boss's people keep firing, it's all right," he told me; and then I saw Miller lift Sally in his arms, in spite of her struggles, and we all followed, stones flying past our heads and rebounding from the walls. We went across the garden under those trees, and made our way back to that small door. The Scotchman put Mr. Hobbs on his feet, and I heard him trying to get the key in the lock; but just as he was going to open it, there was the sound of a whole lot of people running towards it, and they threw their shoulders against it and began talking very softly.
I was very frightened again, and I heard the Scotchman moan: "Too late! We're done for!" and we all fled back to the house.
The front of it was now all lighted up with a red glare, showing above the top of the wall.
"They're setting fire to the huts," he cried; "go up to the top room. Take them up there, bar the door at the front, and block it up with tables—anything." And he rushed off, came back for his revolver, which he had given to Martin, and disappeared.
"Guess Sally Hobbs ain't a ten-cent doll," I heard her sob. "You can put me down right away." She led us along some passages, up some steps, and then to the foot of a ladder. The little man got up it like a monkey, and she followed him.
"Draw it up, and let it down when you hear us call," I sang out; and then we went back and began to pull along tables and benches and boxes, everything we could find, and piled them up behind the door in the front of the house. Before we had finished, the Scotchman came running up with his hands over his head. "We're fair lost! God be merciful to us! The boss's men want to know where he is, and won't hold out many more minutes unless he turns up. They want to open the gates; say they'll get their throats cut if they don't. Jorgensen has been killed—down in the town—two hours ago—down by that six-inch gun."
"Can't you do anything?" I asked quickly.
"No, mon, they hate me; and I fear they've killed the boss, and no one else can keep them in hand. They're all round us, and they've tasted blood, and the mandarins themselves couldn't stop them.
"Hark!" he said, "they're beating down the little door in the garden wall. Oh, God, they'll be right here in a moment!"
I was in an awful funk, though not for myself, I think, but more because of Sally. When one isn't in a funk for oneself it is easier to keep one's head. I don't think that Miller or myself cared a scrap what happened to us, so long as we could keep Sally safe. The Scotchman told us to bring any heavy things we could find to block up the door at the back, and then ran off and brought some rifles and bandoliers.
We bolted the door and piled everything we could find against it, and then ran round, barring the shutters. We didn't need any lamp, because the red glare streamed through the cracks and lighted up the whole place. The old woman had disappeared. Then we picked up the rifles and bandoliers, and he led us to the ladder, Sally crying out and lowering it. We all swarmed up and drew it after us.
The room was a small square place, with stone walls and narrow openings—you could hardly call them windows—in each wall. They were closed with iron shutters, and the one looking over the front was open, and the whole place was lighted up. The Scotchman and I looked out, and it was a most awesome sight.
Down below, about twenty yards from the foot of the house, was the wall and the big gateway, and behind it were the Englishman's men, stooping down to load and then popping up and firing. They seemed to be standing on some kind of platform or ledge, and were not taking the trouble to aim.
Out beyond there were flames pouring up from half a dozen huts, and we could hardly hear their noise because of the fearful shouts and yells from a dense crowd of people in between us and them.
They must have seen our faces in the light of the fires, for they yelled more loudly than ever, and we could see them bending down and then throwing stones at us. Stones began clattering against the outside wall all round us, and one came flying into the room, and I heard Sally sob with fright. We drew in our heads and closed the shutter, but before I drew in mine I am certain that I saw one of the Chinamen inside the wall point his rifle at us and fire. The room was almost dark now, except for one streak of light which came through a gap at one edge of the shutter, and just made light enough for us to see each other. Mr. Hobbs was lying full length on the floor near a wall, and Sally was lying down too, with her head on his chest, and moaning. I did wish she would leave off, because it made us all so much more frightened.
Directly we had closed the shutter, stones began clattering against it—and, I'm certain, some bullets too—and we heard a rush, and the mob charged the big gateway.
We could still hear the ships firing. "My God, I wish they'd come!" I heard Miller mutter; and that was what I had been praying all the time.
The noise at the back of the garden seemed to have stopped; but the firing from the wall was easing down too, and the Scotchman groaned out, "They're going to leave us;" and Sally, who seemed almost "off her head", kept on moaning, "Why doesn't Captain Evans come?"
I felt that I should go mad in a minute if I didn't do something. Miller must have thought the same. "It's no use sitting 'ere to get killed, sir. Can't we do something? Can't we fire at them? We've got three rifles." But the Scotchman wouldn't let us open the shutter.
"Keep still, mon; they haven't all left us yet," and we could still hear a few rifles firing from inside the wall.
Just for something to do, I began pulling on my boots—they were still tied round my neck with the laces—and it was awfully hard work with only one hand, and they were all sodden and stiff; but Miller helped me. We had just finished, when suddenly there was a rush of feet underneath us at the back of the house, and a furious battering noise on the shutters.
"They've broken in!" the Scotchman groaned, and Sally shrieked and buried her head in her lap. Miller seized a rifle and jumped across, pushed her out of the way, opened the shutter at the back, and leant out. I saw him load it, and he was just going to fire, when there were cries of "Sally! Sally! Open the door!" and more hammering.
"HE WAS JUST GOING TO FIRE""HE WAS JUST GOING TO FIRE"
"HE WAS JUST GOING TO FIRE"
We jumped to our feet. Sally shrieked that it was Captain Evans come to save her, Miller roared "Who's there?" and we heard someone sing out, "Who are you? Is Sally safe?"
I knew the voice; it was Mr. Ching's, the Lieutenant on board theHuan Min. I forgot all about my arm, and jumped over to where Miller was. "Get out of the way!" I cried, and yelled down, "Midshipman Ford of theVigilant. There are six of us up here, and Miss Hobbs is all right."
"Come down and let me in."
"Right you are, sir!" I shouted, and drew in my head.
"Isn't it Captain Evans?" Sally asked me.
"No. Mr. Ching of theHuan Min"
She moaned and began crying again.
We lowered the ladder and scrambled down, pulled the things away from the door at the back, and opened it, and there was Mr. Ching and twenty or thirty of his men, all crowding round.
I could only say, "Thank you very much, sir," and should have blubbed if I'd tried to say any more.
"Hoffman brought us, showed us a path up from the water. He's gone to try and keep order. Can she come away at once?"
I don't know what I was going to say. It didn't make any difference, because the noise at the other side of the house suddenly grew fearfully loud, and we heard the gates give way and swing back with a crash, and the mob rush through with frightful yells of triumph. Mr. Ching gave an order, and ran round to the front of the house, and I found myself following him with Miller behind me.
Some more men joined him at the corner, and then we came out into the glare and saw the bright gap in the dark wall made by the gates being open, and a mob sweeping up to the house. They had torches and blazing tufts of straw on poles. A few of the Chinamen inside the wall were trying to keep them back, but I could see most of them dropping over the wall outside.
Mr. Ching's people fired a volley into the mob, and then another, and some shots came from the room I'd just left—the Scotchman and Martin firing, I expect.
The mob didn't seem to have expected any resistance, and stopped and left off shouting. I could see many of them throw their hands up and fall, and there were shrieks and screams, the blazing bits of straw fell on the ground and were trampled out, and they began to fly back through the gateway.
I was swept along with Mr. Ching's men, and found myself in the gateway. Some of them were swinging back one side of it, and pulling aside bodies which were in the way.
Someone was trying to crawl away as the big gate swung towards him. It was Mr. Hoffman. I could see him well, and just managed to pull his legs clear as it swung to. He didn't recognize me.
"You hurt, sir?" I asked him.
"Shot through the chest; get me into a corner. Is Sally safe?"
Miller was nowhere to be seen, and I couldn't make any of theHuan Min'sbluejackets understand. They were too excited.
"Try and get hold of me; get hold of my coat."
He grabbed at my left side; I gave a yell with the pain of it. "Not that side; the other, sir," and he got his fingers into the slit of my other pocket and drew himself on his knees, spitting blood out of his mouth and coughing.
Supporting himself like that, and with the other hand on the ground, he managed to crawl back to the house and then rolled on his back.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I'm Ford of theVigilant."
"Thank God you are safe! I'm dying. Bring Sally to me;" and he coughed again.
"It's not safe for her here; I'll try and get you round to the back."
I heard my name called, and ran towards the gate, and there was Mr. Ching looking for me. "Where is Hoffman? Are you all ready to start? We can keep them off for a time," he panted.
I pointed to where Mr. Hoffman was lying. "He's shot through the chest. He's dying. He can't move."
Mr. Ching groaned. "We shall have to stay here till daylight. I can never find my way back without him."
I forgot about the Scotchman.
The last of his bluejackets rushed back through the gate, the other half were swung across, and we were in darkness again, except for the glare over the top of the wall. Bullets were now spattering against the front of the house, and bits of plaster were trickling down, and we knew that the Chinamen from inside must have joined the mob. Mr. Ching rushed off to place his men round the wall, and I went back to Mr. Hoffman. He was trying to pull himself up against the side of the house, and I gave him my right shoulder to lean upon, and we got round to the back like that and to the door; but he couldn't drag himself over the boxes and piles of things heaped there, and lay down with his head on the stone slab, half in and half out of the door.
"Get me some water and bring Sally," he whispered. "I'm finished. God have mercy on me!"
I couldn't see his face—it was so dark—but his voice sounded awful.
I was trembling all over, and scrambled in and called out for Sally. I forgot to call her Miss Hobbs.
She was still in that small room, and I heard her crawling across the floor. I heard the Scotchman and Martin firing out of the window too.
"What is it?" she asked in a scared voice. "Are we safe? Has Captain Evans come?"
"Come down with me. Mr. Hoffman's dying, and wants to see you."
She wouldn't come for some time; and when she did come she was trembling all over, and I had to steady her with my right arm along the passage.
We found a tin with some water in it, and I took her to Mr. Hoffman, where we could just see him lying.
"Thank God!" I heard him whisper, when she bent over him.
I went away, wanting to cry.
Then I suddenly remembered that the Scotchman could guide us down to the water, and ran off to find Mr. Ching, but couldn't.
Miller appeared from somewhere.
"That old Scotchman could guide us back," I said. "Where's Mr. Ching?"
"That ain't no good, sir," he said. "They're all round us now, 'undreds and 'undreds of 'em, an' 'e's got only fifty men with 'im." Then I noticed that bullets were coming from the back of the house as well, and heard furious firing near the little gate by which we had entered.
"That Chinese Lootenant is over there now, sir."
I went across for him, but couldn't find him. His people were outside the little doorway, firing into the dark, and he must have been there too, and I didn't dare to go out. I couldn't see a yard in front of me.
I think I must have been too absolutely "done up" then to do anything more, and I really forget what I did and what happened. I know that I sat down on a stone somewhere near that small doorway, and rested my head on my knees, and squeezed my left arm to change the pain of it. I know that rifles were going oft all round me, and people were shrieking and yelling, and sometimes I heard Miller's voice shouting; but everything seemed to buzz round in my head, and nothing seemed to matter in the least.
I rather fancy that my idea was to wait there till Mr. Ching came back, and tell him about the Scotchman.
I was roused by hearing the door slammed and being nearly knocked over. Mr. Ching saw me. "Get along back to the house," he gasped—his face was streaming with blood—"I can't hold the walls any longer. I have not enough men;" and he more or less lifted me to my feet and gave me a push, and I went staggering along with my legs giving way under me.
I remember seeing Mr. Hoffman lying flat on his back, with his face turned up and his eyes looking at me, and remember speaking to him; but he didn't answer. Sally wasn't there either, and I stepped across him, and somehow or other found myself stumbling up the ladder into that room, and heard Sally sobbing in a corner. I was shivering, and my teeth were chattering, and that horrid sick feeling came on again.
Just as I got to the bottom of the ladder a stream of fire shot up across one of the windows, and I heard a rushing noise, as if it were a rocket; but I didn't take any notice of it, for everything seemed to be going round and round People crowded up after me, and pushed me aside, and began firing out of the windows, and the room felt stuffy and full of powder smoke. Sometimes someone would give a cry, and once someone fell across my legs, and I tried to pull them from under him, but couldn't, and let them stop there, and remember that the weight was pulled away presently, and I was pushed nearer the wall, and someone gave me some water.