"Who is with you, Mr. Wang?"
"Mr. Hu."
"Who is Mr. Hu? Come inside both of you, and let me lock the door."
The two Chinamen entered, blinking in the light of the little oil lamp Jack had lit.
"Now, Mr. Wang, explain. Who is Mr. Hu?"
"He is Hu Hang, the constable, sir."
"The constable!" exclaimed Jack, now recognizing the low brow and shifty eyes.
"Yes; I had to bring him."
"What's this, what's this?" said Mr. Brown, coming from his bedroom. "What you two piecee man makee this-side?"
Like almost all English merchants, he had found Chinese too much for him, and in his intercourse with the natives made use of pidgin English, the lingua franca of the Chinese coast.