Going back to our dungeon, I lay as usual on the floor, and fell asleep thinking of the pleasant liberty which I had been suffered all day to enjoy. Waking from time to time, I heard the wind whistling through the cordage, and the rapid gliding of the waters as our keel ploughed onwards.
The next day was Wednesday, October 18th, 1854—a heaven-sent day, never to be named unless with prayer and thankfulness! It might have been about four o'clock in the morning, when we were awakened from our sleep by the sound of hurrying feet and eager voices. After having sailed fast all the night, the junk was now riding at anchor, and the trap was closely fastened above our heads. I could not conceive what our captors were about, or why they should be thus active at so early an hour. The more I listened, the stranger it seemed. Having waited and wondered for some time, I tried to compose myself to sleep; but sleep would not come again, and, somehow or another, a strange restlessness possessed me. I turned to Than-Sing, who was awake and listening also, and asked him what he thought could be doing overhead? He laid his finger on his lip, and, bending breathlessly forward, paused for some moments before replying.
"Hush!" said he, at length. "They are going."
I could not imagine what he meant; but, just as I was about to question him further, he again motioned me to silence, and repeated, "They are going."
More puzzled than ever, I lay and looked at my companion, whose face expressed both joy and terror, and whose voice shook strangely.
"I tell you, they are going," said he. "It is a steamer in pursuit."
"A steamer!" I repeated, stupefied and incredulous. "A steamer!" I thought, for the moment, that my companion's brain was turned, and I was almost angry that he should dream of reawakening hopes which I had long since abandoned. Scarcely, however, had these thoughts crossed my mind, when he touched me on the shoulder, repeating, "It is a steamer! The pirates have seen a steamer, and they are escaping to the mountains."
I stared wildly in his face. My thoughts were all confusion. I dared not trust myself to take in the sense of his words.
"You are wrong," I said. "Would they lie at anchor if they were pursued?"
But he only pressed his face closely to the little port-hole, and replied, "Yes, it is a steamer! I see it! It is a steamer!"