"We must be off. There goes the launch's whistle," said Sinclair, as he swung off with his long, powerful strides, which put Gorman to his best gait and made the natives drop into their peculiar little jogging trot.
Although the day had scarcely broken when they left the house, and it was but a few hundred yards down the steep hill to the beach, the impatient sun of the South had already sprung into the heavens when they reached the little jetty at which the launch lay. A Hoa, the chief Chinese assistant of Dr. MacKay, and McLeod were already there.
"Hallo, Mac!" exclaimed the doctor. "I thought you would be sleeping yet. It's more than decent of you to turn out so early to see me off."
"I am going with you as far as Twatutia," replied McLeod. "The Chinese are so excited over this war that they have not forwarded part of our cargo. I am going up to see what persuasives I can apply to the compradore. We have to sail by this afternoon's tide and want to take a full cargo. We may not get another chance for a while."
"I certainly am in luck this morning," said Sinclair. "You to keep me company as far as Twatutia; A Hoa to get my passports viséd, and Sergeant Gorman to act as my bodyguard and be generally responsible for my safety and good conduct."
By this time the two friends and the Chinese preacher had found for themselves as comfortable positions as possible under the awning which covered the decks of the little launch and sheltered them from the rays of the sun.
The launch was threading its way through a fleet of junks which were hasting to get out to sea with the ebbing tide. Some had already hoisted their huge, brown, bat-wing sails and turned their watchful eyes towards the open sea. Some were just lifting their anchors, while priests from the neighbouring temple rowed around them in boats with beating drums and droning pipes, to frighten away the demons, propitiate the goddess of the sea, secure for the sailors a prosperous voyage, undisturbed by the French, and incidentally to get for themselves and their temple a substantial contribution. Some had not yet finished taking cargo, and their crews were working with feverish haste to get loaded in time not to miss the last of the ebb. From them all came the ceaseless shrill, nasal shouting of the Chinese seamen as they pulled at the ropes, or heaved up the anchor or hauled away at the tackle hoisting their cargo on board.
It was all intensely interesting to Sinclair, who never wearied of studying human life, especially when it presented types and phases which were new and strange to him. But he was not so much interested in the Chinese as to fail to notice the large house, with its cool-looking upper and lower verandahs, looking out on the river, in which the MacAllisters were quartered. He wondered if the maiden who had teased him so were awake and plotting some new mischief to make him or some one else uncomfortable. Or was she sleeping as peacefully as if she had never done a naughty deed in all her bright young life? It was with a start, as if a guilty secret had been discovered, that he heard McLeod's voice saying:
"I suppose your Highland girl is having her beauty sleep. I never saw any one who to my mind needed it less."
Sinclair was annoyed that McLeod so often seemed to read his thoughts. It was a little tartly that he replied: