"He looks half starved. Ask him if they get enough to eat," asked Helston.
"He says they get plenty," answered A Tsi, smiling, "but North Chinaman he never gets fat."
"What does he know about the store of provisions on the island?"
He seemed to know a good deal about these. He had formed one of a working-party a fortnight ago to unload a captured ship laden with tinned meat and flour, and they had to leave a large part of it in the open, covered with tarpaulins, because the go-downs were already full.
"At the end of the time each man was allowed to take away what he wanted," finished A Tsi, whilst the Chinaman spread his hands apart and tried to express a vast quantity.
At each question there would be a rapid flow of queries and answers in Chinese between A Tsi and the prisoner, the latter gesticulating excitedly to explain his answers, and, whilst the former was interpreting, he would try to follow him with pantomimic gesture and alterations of expression, looking from one to another in an imploring manner.
He was asked the number of men on the island. He could not tell.
"Many?"
"Yes, a great many."
"A thousand?"