“Yes.”
“Why do you think she is a pirate?”
“Ching tink why she no sail light away and not stop while man-o’-war clawl along velly slow. You tellee captain.”
I nodded, and found that there was no need, for the captain was carefully observing the junk from where he was hidden by a pile of casks, and Mr Reardon was with him.
“Here, Mr Herrick,” he cried, “your eyes are young. Have a look at that junk. Take your uniform cap off, my lad, and, as soon as you have done, take off your jacket and put on a coloured suit.”
I had a good look through the glass at the junk, and made my report.
“I think it’s only a big trader, sir,” I said. “Looks like the boats we saw at Amoy, and as if she were going up to Wanghai.”
“Yes, that’s it, I think,” said Captain Thwaites to Mr Reardon. Then he sharply turned to me and gave me a dry look. “Well, Mr Herrick, you see I have taken your advice, and put my ship in this disgraceful state.”
“Yes, sir,” I said eagerly; “and I hope it will prove successful.”
“So do I,” he said drily. “That will do, Herrick. Now, Mr Reardon, I think we will keep on just as we are, just about four knots an hour. It gives the idea of our being in trouble; and if we keep on close outside the islands, it may draw the scoundrels—that is, if they are there.”