A Chinese steward announced that tiffin was ready. Raxworthy, having a healthy appetite, was reciprocally ready. He went down to his cabin, washed, brushed his hair, and then made his way to the saloon.
He was, as the third officer had remarked, the only first-class passenger. His seat at the table was therefore on the captain’s right. The ship’s officers present at the meal were the second officer, the purser and the doctor.
The repast started well. The soup was excellent, the fish, cunningly garnished by native cooks, was most appetising. Conversation, however, was desultory and by no means general. The doctor and the purser were discussing some matter that was completely outside their respective departments. The second exchanged a few words with the Old Man and then devoted his attention to his plate; while the captain, having passed a few commonplace remarks to Raxworthy, seemed to be lost in thought. Occasionally he would turn his head to one side and gaze up at the open skylight, like a terrier hearing strange noises. The Chinese servants, standing motionless yet keenly responsive to any sign on the part of the people at table, gazed woodenly at the opposite bulkhead.
Suddenly the sharp crack of a pistol rang out, followed by another, and then a perfect fusillade.
The Old Man leapt from his seat, drew an automatic from his hip pocket, and without waiting for the others, dashed on deck. The doctor and the purser vanished. So did the Chinese servants.
“Got a revolver handy?” asked the second officer hurriedly. “Fetch it. I’m off to get mine.”
Raxworthy needed no second bidding. He followed the second officer along the alleyway until they separated outside their respective cabins. He didn’t even have to ask what the violent commotion was about. He knew.
It was an attempt on the part of pirates disguised as Chinese passengers to seize the ship.
This sort of thing had been done before. In fact, cases of piracy in the China Sea were far too frequent, notwithstanding the increasing vigilance of the European officers—for even ships flying the ensign of Republican China as well as those flying the Red Duster and manned by native crews, were almost invariably officered by British subjects.
Pulling out his bunch of keys, Raxworthy was about to unlock his sea chest when the lid opened under the movement of his hand. Even in his excitement the midshipman noticed it.