Tom tried to explain that if they had not ridden hard, he would never again have seen his horses; but probably the midshipman’s explanations were not understood, as the owner of the animals still kept muttering, “No good, no good!”
“Well, as it was partly our fault for delaying so long, I propose that we pay the old fellow something more,” said Tom.
All agreed, and: Mr Kay Chung’s countenance brightened greatly when they handed him some more coin. On their way back they met several of the English inhabitants, to whom they reported that a force of Tae-pings was in the neighbourhood. Their news created no small amount of stir in the place. Information had already been received at head-quarters from the outposts, and immediately active preparations were made for the defence of the town, lest the enemy should advance during the night. Pretty well tired out, the midshipmen at last got back to the hotel where they settled to remain for the night, as it was too late by that time to return on board. Tom and Billy were not sorry to turn in, while a Chinese waiter undertook to get their jackets and trousers cleaned and polished up by the next morning.
Tom had been sleeping for several hours, when Gerald, followed by Roy, who had a different room, rushed in, exclaiming, “Rouse up, old fellows; something serious is going on. There’s been tremendously heavy firing for the last ten minutes in the direction of the Chinese town, and there can be no doubt but that the Tae-pings are attacking the place. We are starting off to see the fun.”
“Fun, do you call it!” said Archie, who had been awakened by Gerald’s first exclamation. “It will be no fun if the rebels take Shanghai, and there is but a small garrison for its defence. As likely as not the Chinese will run away, or more probably fraternise with the Tae-pings.”
“The marines and that Indian regiment are sufficient to drive back the enemy, and we shall have our own blue-jackets on shore, depend upon it, when Captain Rogers hears what is going forward,” said Roy.
“Come, Tom, are you going with us? I suppose nothing will induce Billy to turn out, if he can help it.”
“But my clothes, my clothes! that Chinese waiter Fau-ti has got them. I have nothing to put on.”
“I will unearth him, and make him bring them to you,” said Desmond; “and Billy’s also, for he won’t like to be left behind.”
While Desmond went off to find the waiter, Billy, who was sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes, asked what the row was about. On being told, he answered—