“Why, what did you say to him, Ching?” I asked; and the interpreter smiled, and wrinkled up his eyes till he resembled a piece of old china on a chimney-piece.
“Ching say velly lit’ bit; only shake his new coat till common man see it silk. He feel velly much flighten all a same, as if big-button mandalin get in him boat.”
“And what shall we have to pay him?”
“P’laps nothing ’tall.”
“Oh, nonsense!” I said. “We must pay him the proper fare.”
“Velly well, pay him ploper money.”
I anticipated trouble, but when we got to the side and a dollar was handed to the man, his heavy round face lit up with pleasure, and he said something aloud.
“What does he say, Ching?” I asked.
“Say velly glad, and didn’t tink he get anything ’tall.”
We made the best of our way below, fully expecting that, if the captain and Mr Reardon saw us, they would take us to task for being at the execution, and ask; us how we dared to follow them there. But, as luck had it, they had been too much occupied by the horrible affair in progress, and our presence had escaped them. But it was a long while before I could get the scene out of my head or think of our trip ashore that day as anything but a horrible mistake.