“Skipper? Cap’n?” said Ching, whose ears were always sharp enough to catch our words. “Gone along, Mr Leardon. Make gland plocession all away back to palace. You go sail, soon catch more pilate.”
“I hope, if we do,” said Smith, “that we shall not bring back any prisoners.”
The enclosure was thinning fast now, as we walked toward the gateway by which we had entered, where a strong body of soldiers had been on guard over the barricades, in case of an attempt being made by the pirates’ friends to rescue them, and we saw plainly enough that had we wanted there would have been no getting away.
“You likee go in and see plison?” said Ching insinuatingly. “Plenty bad men lock up safe.”
“No, thank you,” I said eagerly. “Let’s get out of this, and go and have some tea.”
“Yes, plenty tea. Ching show way.”
The Chinese soldiers stared at us haughtily as we walked by, and I drew myself up, hoping that no one there had witnessed our weakness, for if they had I knew that they could not feel much respect for the blue-jackets who hunted down the scoundrels that infested their seas.
Both Barkins and Smith must have felt something after the fashion that I did, for they too drew themselves up, returned the haughty stares, and Barkins stopped short to look one truculent savage fellow over from head to foot, especially gazing at his weapons, and then, turning coolly to me, he said, with a nod in the man’s direction—
“Tidy sort of stuff to make soldiers off, Gnat, but too heavy.”
The man’s eyes flashed and his hand stole toward his sword hilt.