But it did not come at once, for Mr Brooke was planning about the watch setting, so as to guard against the junks coming down the river and passing us on their way out to sea.
But at last all was to his satisfaction, one man keeping a look-out up the river for the descending junks, the other downward to the mouth for the return of the Teaser, whose coming was longed for most intensely.
Then, with just a scrap of sail raised, the rest acting as a screen dividing the boat, we tacked about the river, keeping as near as was convenient to the spot where the Teaser had anchored, and at last Mr Brooke said to me, just in the grey of the evening—
“I’m afraid the lads must be getting hungry.”
“I know one who is, sir,” I said, laughing.
He smiled.
“Well, I have been too busy and anxious to think about eating and drinking,” he said; “but I suppose I am very hungry too. Here, my lad, pass that basket along, and serve out the provisions.”
“You likee Ching serve out plovisions?”
Mr Brooke frowned, and the Chinaman shrank away. I noticed too that when the food was served round, the men took each a good lump of salt pork and a couple of biscuits, Ching contented himself with one biscuit, which he took right forward, and there sat, munching slowly, till it was dark and the shore was lit up with thousands of lanterns swinging in shop, house, and on the river boats moored close along by the shore.
“Bad for us,” said Mr Brooke, as we sat together astern steering, and keeping a sharp look ahead for the expected enemy.