A TRANSFORMATION SCENE—I BECOME A "CHINESE"
While I ruminated upon this most unexpected incident, my ears were almost insensible of the shouts and singing, the cries of "Nippon Banzai!"—Japan for ever!—the music, and the general enthusiasm. Who had been so base as to state that I was a Chinese spy? Perhaps one of the crew who had rescued me from the sinking steamer, and had noticed me in the company of the German officer, a well-known adherent of the Chinese. If so, my fate was sealed. The yardarm on which the falcon had perched appeared to me to be my ultimate destination, or to suggest it. The more I ruminated upon my prospects, the less I liked them.
Meantime the Naniwa pursued her course, the lookouts keeping a most careful watch for torpedoes. I kept an equally anxious watch for the midshipman.
At length he returned, having had an interview with the captain. His expression puzzled me, because it gave me no assurance of relief, and yet did not suggest despair.
"Well?" I asked, as soon as he came within speaking distance. "Am I to be boiled in oil?" This was an attempt at levity which my heart did not respond to.
"No, not yet," was the alarming answer. "But you will have to leave the ship."
"Leave the ship? Why?"
"Because you must. A rumour has arisen about you, and the men do not regard you with favour. An opportunity will occur to put you ashore, and then you will be landed with others."
"Then you think me a traitor!" I exclaimed. "I swear I am not! Why, you must know yourself that I an Englishman and honest."
"Yes; I said so."