“Why?” I asked.
“Getting so dark, my lad. We shall be having the junks pass us.”
“Oh no, sir. Ching is keen-sighted, and all the men are looking out very eagerly.”
“Ah, well, I hope they will not slip by. They must not, Herrick. There is one advantage in this darkness, though: they will not find us out.”
The darkness favouring the movement, and so as to save time, ready for any sudden emergency, he ordered the men to buckle on their cutlass-belts and pouches, while the rifles were hid handy.
“In case we want to board, Herrick.”
“Then you mean to board if there is a chance?” I said.
“I mean to stop one of those junks from putting to sea, if I can,” he replied quietly. “The Teaser having left us, alters our position completely. She has gone off on a false scent, I’m afraid, and we must not lose the substance while they are hunting the shadow.”
Very little more was said, and as I sat in the darkness I had plenty to think about and picture out, as in imagination I saw our queer-looking boat hooked on to the side of a great high-pooped junk, and Mr Brooke leading the men up the side to the attack upon the fierce desperadoes who would be several times our number.
“I don’t know what we should do,” I remember thinking to myself, “if these people hadn’t a wholesome fear of our lads.”