My heart beat more rapidly than usual when I stood upon the poop-deck of the junk and surveyed the harbour. The signal was greatly in evidence, but the trim, even, respectable houses of the English quarter fixed my attention first, and then my eyes wandered to the shipping, particularly to the agitated red ensigns, which made me thrill with the hope of seeing English faces and clasping English hands, speaking the familiar language,—very familiar in ships,—and of once more meeting Captain Goldheugh late of the Fêng Shui.
*****
I was landed safely, and sent my acknowledgment by the junk, which at once made her way back. As I watched her gradually disappearing, now lost, now evident, amid the vessels, I reflected upon my late adventures, and made up my mind to write them down, and, in the familiar words of the hymn, to make "Bethel" out of "my stony griefs," to improve the occasion and to profit by the trouble I had endured. Then I turned half sadly to the hotel, and was almost immediately hailed loudly in unmistakably British accents.
"Young Julius! ahoy! Hallo there, ye half-bred Jap!—come alongside and speak me, or I'll run ye down. My stars! here's a caper. By the powers o' Moll Kelly! is it yourself? It is so!"
The speaker was standing behind me. Had I not sheered off to port I must have collided with him. I had gone ahead and left him in my wake, when I was suddenly brought up all standing. My assailant was Goldheugh himself. Good Paddy Goldheugh! I was truly delighted, though not greatly surprised, because I had been expecting to find him at Chefoo. Still the meeting was most cordial. We shook hands in the most hearty manner, and when, after some moments of this exercise, we adjourned to the hotel, I told all my news, and awaited his—after I had made a few inquiries for letters, and for Tim, who had gone home.
No black edges! Thank goodness! No ill news? No! In fact, the contrary. My captain was in command of a tidy steamer belonging to his old company, and temporarily on the coast. He had the berth of first mate for me with him, and a "lump of compensation," he said, for shipwreck. He had been satisfied, and hoped I would be. I was!
When he reached his ship he handed me a batch of letters and papers of domestic interest, and a welcome draft upon the Shanghai Bank. All these composed a sort of pastoral symphony which made me feel contented and happy amid the voices and murmurs of congratulation and admiration at my experience. Three days passed in perfect peace, reading, writing, and adding up my ideas—and funds. Then we quitted Chefoo, and steamed past Wei-hai-Wei, then in Japanese hands, toward Shanghai, and my war experience 'twixt Jack and Jap—'twixt China and Japan—was ended.
We heard that the Japanese fleet sailed to the Pescadores, and annexed them, and the campaign was continued after a while in Manchuria. A treaty of peace was agreed upon by which Japan was to receive an immense indemnity to retain Formosa, the Pescadores, and the possession of Port Arthur and Wei-hai-Wei. But Western ideas could not admit this in all its bearings. Russia induced France and Germany to force Japan to relinquish the Liao-tung Peninsula or face war. Japan retired from Port Arthur, and, as will be seen,—indeed it is already evident,—that the kind "protectors of the Chinese Empire," the wolves from the north of Europe, are now about to enjoy the dismembered carcass of the most ancient kingdom, when they have bled it to death.
Captain Goldheugh brought me back safely to Shanghai, and there I at intervals succeeded in putting my experiences on paper. Even while I have been revising these pages news has come concerning various advances made by Russian diplomacy, which, having ousted the Japanese from Port Arthur, has apparently decided to occupy the place itself for the Czar, "to show there is no ill-feeling." What may be the issue of this intention one need not opine. What the Chinese think of any such advance, was expressed, when I was there, in fear, if not trembling. Japan, I think, will have a few words to say unless she be "squared." But these political ideas may be suppressed. My narrative must close here.
Perhaps this experience may interest some youthful readers in England, where the serious aspect of matters in the East is always discussed. Before this tale is in type the whole aspect of these events may have changed, but the facts remain as I have attempted to picture them in the foregoing pages. The story is told—my tale is ended; but the final word is yet to be written concerning the struggle of 1895. The end is not yet.