“I was very glad of it, Jack,” he said. “To tell you the truth, I have an idea in my head. What it is, I am not going to tell you; only, Jack, if I am ever a captain, I should like to have you as my first-lieutenant.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said, “for your kind wishes, but I am afraid such good luck is not in store for me.”
At length, our junk, with several others that had been captured, reached Hong Kong in safety. The harbour was crowded with vessels. There must have been a hundred or more craft, of various sorts, from line-of-battle ships down to schooners and cutters, and a variety of Chinese and other foreign-rigged vessels.
Chapter Eight.
A Typhoon and a Shipwreck.
The junk lay in Hong Kong harbour, close to the Fawn. Soon after we brought up in the harbour, finding that a boat was to be sent from the Fawn to the Roarer, I got leave to go in her. I had some misgivings about Sergeant Turbot, and was anxious to see him. I found that he was in the sick bay, where there were several wounded men. He shook me warmly by the hand when he saw me.
“Jack, my boy,” he said, “you saved my life t’other day, and, what is more, my honour. If it had not been for you, my fellows would have got into that Chinese fort while I was at the bottom of the hill; but Jack, I confess it, I feel I am not cut out for campaigning in a hilly country; indeed, to advance, at double-quick, across a plain, tries me considerably.”
I was afraid, from the sergeant’s way of talking, that he was very ill. I made some remark to that effect.
“In honest truth, Jack,” he answered, “I was pretty well knocked up altogether with that work on shore; what with the hot sun, the rapid marching, and climbing those heights; but still, Jack, I don’t think I am going to give in just yet. If I do, remember me to your father, and tell him that I consider you are worthy of him. However, I hope to be fit for duty in the course of a few days, and to have another pull at the Chinamen’s pigtails before we have done with them.”
From what I could hear on board I found that our business in the boat and capture of the junk was highly approved of. Our captain, with several of the boats of the Roarer, had been engaged, and he had behaved with great bravery and activity. I was glad to find, that in the course of a few days Sergeant Turbot was much better. His gallantry was well known, and Dicky Plumb told me that he had heard the captain of marines on board say that in future he would take care that he was not sent on an expedition where any great bodily exertion was required. We had been some time off Hong Kong, and began to grow weary of not having more to do. The weather had now become excessively hot and sultry. Dark black clouds collected in the sky, and there was an oppression in the atmosphere which made all hands feel uncomfortable. The weather-wise predicted a typhoon. I asked Sergeant Turbot, the last visit I paid him, the meaning of a typhoon.
“Why, Jack, you must know that a typhoon is just like ten everyday gales of wind pressed into one,” he replied. “If a fellow is aloft he has need to hold on with his eyelids, teeth, and nails; and if he’s on shore, to look out for falling chimneys and roofs. If we get one—and from what I hear there’s every chance of it—you’ll know what it is fast enough, and not forget either, as long as you live.”