“No, my lad; evidently the junk of which Ching told us.”
“And you are going to warn her of the danger, sir?”
“Exactly; we can’t attack, so we must scheme another way of saving the sheep from the wolves.”
As we sailed on we could see that the fresh junk was a fine-looking vessel, apparently heavily laden; and, after partaking of my share of the provisions, which Ching eagerly brought for me out of the little cabin, I sat watching her coming along, with the ruddy orange rays of the setting sun lighting up her sides and rigging, and brightening the showy paint and gilding with which she was decorated, so that they had quite a metallic sheen.
“Take a look back now,” said Mr Brooke. “What do you make of the pirate junks?”
“They seem to be lying-to, sir,” I said.
“Then they have seen their plunder, and the sooner we give warning the better. She must turn and run back at once, or they will be after and capture her before she can reach port again.”
Just then I saw him stand up and give a sharp look round, his face wearing rather an anxious expression.
“You can’t see the Teaser, sir?” I said.
“No, my lad; I was looking at the weather. I fear it is going to blow a hurricane. The sky looks rather wild.”