Before Captain Gillespie could indignantly refuse making any terms with the rascals, Ching Wang proceeded to say that he had overheard the pirates saying that the reason for their violent hurry was that an English gunboat had been seen in the distance cruising off the mouth of the Canton river.
“Me gottee sampan,” continued Ching Wang, declaring now his real motive. “Lilly pijjin squeezee one port, me go along findee gunboat an’ catchee kyfong chop chop!”
“First rate,” cried Mr Mackay, who acted as general interpreter, knowing the Chinaman’s lingo well, explaining that the reason why Ching Wang had not gone off by himself in the sampan was that he did not know the right course to steer for the Canton river in the first place; and, secondly, he was afraid that the officers of the gunboat might not believe his story about the Silver Queen being assailed by pirates unless some European belonging to her accompanied him. “Nothing could have been more sensible, you see, cap’en; and Ching Wang’s got his head screwed on straight.”
“And where is this boat ye’re going in?”
“Sampan, go long now,” returned Ching Wang, motioning with his hand to the water below the stern. “Go long chop chop, soon lilly pijjin come down topside.”
His selection of me, though apparently a very flattering one, was due to the fact of my being the only one capable of squeezing through the port, Weeks, who had grown awfully fat on the voyage, being incapable of accomplishing the feat, while all the rest of us were far too big.
“How will ye be able to steer for Canton?” asked Captain Gillespie sniffing—“even if ye know all about managing the boat?”
“Oh, sir,” cried I, quite joyous at the idea of starting off on such an expedition and coming with a British gunboat to take the pirates by surprise and give them a licking, “Ching Wang’ll see to the sampan, as he calls it, and I will steer, sir, if you give me the course, sir. I’ve got a little compass here on my watch chain.”
“Humph!” he ejaculated; “I think ye’ll do, boy. Ye’re smart enough at any rate for the job; and, besides, there’s no one else that can get through the port. Ye can go!”
“Thank you, sir,” said I, grateful for even this semi-reluctant concession, being afraid he might refuse; and then, squeezing gingerly through the port and carefully lowering myself down by a rope which Tim Rooney hitched round the captain’s bunk, I landed on the bottom boards of the boat that old Ching Wang had ready below.