A Chinese steward, stealthy in movement and with almost expressionless features, showed him to his cabin.
“Velly nicee cabin. Me help navee officer unstow?”
“Thanks, no; I’ll do my own unpacking,” replied Raxworthy, and wondered how the Chinaman knew he was R.N.
It was a single berth cabin, with two large scuttles and a jalousied door. Above the bunk was an electric fan. Close to it was a switch controlling the electric light. The cabin was enamelled white, but showed considerable signs of iron mould in spite of the cork cement casing the deck-head beams.
The steward, bowing, backed out of the cabin. Raxworthy unlocked his chest, removed those articles he required for immediate use, and then re-locked it.
About a quarter of an hour later he went on deck.
The Ah-Foo was already under way.
From the boat-deck the midshipman looked down upon the well-deck, which was crowded with Chinese of the working-class. Men, women and children, most of them sitting upon bundles that contained the whole of their worldly goods, seemed to have “pegged out their claims” as if they intended remaining there for the duration of the voyage. Everyone, according to custom that had arisen from necessity, had been searched for hidden arms.
The third officer, elderly and rigged out in none-too-smart tropical uniform, came up and stood by Raxworthy’s side.
“Pretty measly crowd, aren’t they?” he remarked. “Thank goodness we aren’t carrying them far. We’re getting shut of most of them at Swatow.”