Cover art

HE WILDLY TORE AT EVERYTHING AND HURLED IT DOWN
ON HIS PURSUERS Page [86] Frontispiece

Mr. Midshipman Glover, R.N.

A Tale of the Royal Navy of To-day

BY

SURGEON REAR-ADMIRAL
T. T. JEANS, C.M.G., R.N.

Author of "John Graham, Sub-Lieutenant, R.N."
"A Naval Venture" &c.

Illustrated by Edward S. Hodgson

BLACKIE & SON LIMITED
LONDON AND GLASGOW
1908

By
Surgeon Rear-Admiral
T. T. Jeans

The Gun-runners.
John Graham, Sub-Lieutenant, R.N.
A Naval Venture.
Gunboat and Gun-runner.
Ford of H.M.S. "Vigilant".
On Foreign Service.
Mr. Midshipman Glover, R.N.

Printed in Great Britain by Blackie & Son, Ltd., Glasgow

Preface

In this story of the modern Royal Navy I have endeavoured, whilst narrating many adventures both ashore and afloat, to portray the habits of thought and speech of various types of officers and men of the Senior Service who live and serve under the White Ensign to-day.

To do this the more graphically I have made some of the leading characters take up, from each other, the threads of the story and continue the description of incidents from their own points of view; the remainder of the tale is written in the third person as by an outside narrator.

I hope that this method will be found to lend additional interest to the book.

I have had great assistance from several Gunnery, Torpedo, and Engineer Lieutenants, who have read the manuscripts as they were written, corrected many errors of detail, and made many useful suggestions.

The story may therefore claim to be technically correct.

T. T. JEANS,

SURGEON REAR-ADMIRAL, ROYAL NAVY

Contents

CHAP.

1. [The Luck of Midshipman Glover]
2. [Helston receives a Strange Letter]
3. [The Fitting Out of a Squadron]
4. [The Pirates are not Idle]
5. [The Squadron leaves hurriedly]
6. [The Voyage East]
7. [The Pursuit of the Patagonian]
8. [Mr. Ping Sang is Outwitted]
9. [Captain Helston Wounded]
10. [Destroyer "No. 1" Meets her Fate]
11. [The Action off Sin Ling]
12. [A Council of War]
13. [The Avenging of Destroyer "No. 1"]
14. [Night Operations]
15. [Mr. Midshipman Glover Tells how he was Wounded]
16. [Captain Helston's Indecision]
17. [Spying Out the Pirates]
18. [The Escape from the Island]
19. [Cummins Captures One Gun Hill]
20. [The Fight for One Gun Hill]
21. [On One Gun Hill]
22. [The Final Attack on the Hill]
23. [The Attack on the Forts]
24. [The Capture of the Island]
25. [The Fruits of Victory]
26. [Home Again]

Illustrations

[He wildly tore at everything and hurled it down on his pursuers] . . . Frontispiece

[I struck at him with my heavy malacca stick]

[The sinking of the Pirate Torpedo-Boat]

[The Commander and Jones overpower the Two Sentries]

[Map Illustrating the Operations Against the Pirates]

MAP ILLUSTRATING THE OPERATIONS AGAINST THE PIRATES

CHAPTER I

The Luck of Midshipman Glover

Ordered Abroad. Hurrah!

Midshipman Glover explains how Luck came to him

It all started absolutely unexpectedly whilst we were on leave and staying with Mellins in the country.

When I say "we", I mean Tommy Toddles and myself. His real name was Foote, but nobody ever called him anything but "Toddles", and I do believe that he would almost have forgotten what his real name actually was if it had not been engraved on the brass plate on the lid of his sea chest, and if he had not been obliged to have it marked very plainly on his washing.

We had passed out of the Britannia a fortnight before—passed out as full-blown midshipmen, too, which was all due to luck—and were both staying with Christie at his pater's place in Somerset.

It was Christie whom we called Mellins, because he was so tremendously fat; and though he did not mind us doing so in the least, it was rather awkward whilst we were staying in his house, for we could hardly help calling his pater "Colonel Mellins".

You see, he was even fatter than Mellins himself, and the very first night we were there—we were both just a little nervous—Toddles did call him Colonel Mellins when we wished him "Good-night", and he glared at us so fiercely, that we slunk up to our room and really thought we'd better run away.

We even opened the window and looked out, feeling very miserable, to see if it was possible to scramble down the ivy or the rusty old water-spout without waking everybody, when Mellins suddenly burst in with a pillow he had screwed up jolly hard, and nearly banged us out of the window. By the time we had driven him back to his room at the other end of the corridor, and flattened him out, we had forgotten all about it, and we crept back like mice, and went to sleep.

It was just at this time that the papers came out with those extraordinary yarns about the increase of piracy on the Chinese coast, and how some Chinese merchants had clubbed together to buy ships in England and fit out an expedition to clear the sea again.

You can imagine how interested we three were, especially as fifty years ago Toddles's father had taken part in a great number of scraps with the Cantonese pirates, and Toddles rattled off the most exciting yarns which his father had told him.

We saw in the papers that the Admiralty was about to lend naval officers to take command, but it never struck us that we might possibly get a look in, till one morning a letter came for me from Cousin Milly, whose father is an old admiral and lives at Fareham, and isn't particularly pleasant when I go to see him.

My aunt! weren't we excited! Why, she actually wrote that if I wanted to go she thought she could get me appointed to the squadron, as the captain who was going in charge was a great friend of hers.

You can imagine what I wrote, and how I buttered her up and called her a brick, and said she was a "perfect ripper". I ended up by saying that "Mr. Arthur Bouchier Christie, midshipman, and Mr. Thomas Algernon Foote, midshipman, chums of mine, would like to go too".

I was very careful to give their full names to prevent mistakes, and put "midshipman" after their names just to show that they had also passed out of the Britannia. near the top of the list, and so must be pretty good at chasing "X and Y", which, of course, is a great "leg up" in the navy.

Two mornings after this Milly sent me a postcard: "Hope to manage it for the three of you".

We were so excited after that, that we did nothing but wait about for the postman, and even went down to the village post-office and hung about there, almost expecting a telegram.

Well, you would hardly believe it! The very next morning our appointments were in the papers.

I have the list somewhere stowed away even now, and it began:

"The under-mentioned officers of the Royal Navy have been placed on half-pay and lent to the Imperial Chinese Government for special services".

Down at the bottom of the list was "Midshipmen", and we nearly tore Colonel Christie's paper in our excitement as we read, in very small print and among a lot of other names, Arthur B. Christie, Harold S. Glover (that was myself—hurrah!), and Thomas A. Foote.

Well, I can't tell you much of what happened after that, for we were simply mad with delight; but I do remember that when I rushed off home my father and mother rather threw a damper over it all.

And when my gear had been packed and driven down to the station, I felt rather a brute because everyone cried, and even my father was a little husky when I wished him good-bye. I think something must have got into my eye too, a fly, probably, but it wasn't there when the train ran into Portsmouth Harbour station, and Mellins and Toddles met me and dragged me to the end of the pier to get our first view of our new ship, which was lying at Spithead.

Now you will have to read how all these things came about, or you will never properly understand them.

CHAPTER II

Helston receives a Strange Letter

Helston's Bad Luck—Ping Sang tells of Pirates—Ping Sang makes an Offer—Helston Jubilant

In the year 1896 two naval officers were living a somewhat humdrum, monotonous existence in the quiet little Hampshire village of Fareham, which nestles under the fort-crowned Portsdown Hills, and is almost within earshot of the ceaseless clatter of riveting and hammering in the mighty dockyards of Portsmouth.

These two men had both served many years before in the small gun-boat Porcupine out in China, and their many escapades and adventures had frequently drawn down on their heads the wrath of the Admiral commanding that station. Wherever the Porcupine went, trouble of some sort or another was sure to follow. At one place an indignant Taotai[#] complained that all the guns—obsolete old muzzle-loaders—in his fort had been tumbled into the ditch one night; at another they only just escaped with their lives from an infuriated mob whilst actually carrying from the temple a highly grotesque, but still more highly revered, joss, at which desecration they had cajoled and bribed the local priests to wink.

[#] Taotai = military magistrate.

Comrades in every adventure, and mess-mates during these four exciting years, they had ultimately drifted together on half-pay, and, with their old marine servant Jenkins, a taciturn old man, to look after them, had settled down in this village.

Both men were below the age of forty, though a more accurate estimate would have been difficult, for the shorter of the two bore himself with the vigour and alertness of thirty, yet his face was old with the lines and furrows of care and sadness, whilst the tall, gaunt figure of the second was not held so erect, nor were his actions so vigorous, yet the youthful fire in his eyes gave to his sea-tanned face and his thin, tight-drawn lips and prominent jaw the appearance of a man who had not yet reached the zenith of his manhood.

The shorter man was named Fox, a doctor, who had left the service when he married, only to lose his wife a year later, and with her his whole joy of existence. Settling down in this village, near her grave, he had worked up a small practice, which occupied but little of his time, and lived a life from which his great grief seemed to have removed any trace of his former ambition.

Not so the taller man, Helston, a commander, who had been invalided and placed on half-pay, suffering from the effects of fevers picked up whilst cruising off the West Coast of Africa, in China, and in the Mediterranean. Though his body was weakened by disease, he was for ever buoyant at the prospects of being restored to health and full-pay, and dreamed eagerly of the time when once more he could go afloat and eventually command his own ship.

He, however, generally found a most unsympathetic audience in the Doctor, who listened, with ill-concealed boredom, to his rose-coloured plans, and cynically would say, "Who goes to sea for enjoyment would go to jail for a pastime. Take my advice and get a snug billet in the coast-guard, and don't bother the sea any more. It's not done you much good."

"It's all my bad luck, Doc, old chap," Helston would answer; "no fault of the sea. I played the idiot when I was a youngster, was always in disgrace up at the Admiralty, and now, with this rotten fever in me, they won't employ me again."

But he would always finish with, "Well, I've waited patiently enough for the last three years, and luck must turn soon".

On one such occasion, when the warmth and brightness of a May day had made Helston more than usually enthusiastic as to his chances of full-pay service, Dr. Fox, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, growled, "Next ship, indeed! You talk of nothing but ships and sea, sea and ships, when you ought to be buying a Bath chair to be wheeled about in."

"Never mind, old chap, I'm not as bad as that, and I'll bet you that they give me a ship in less than six months!"

"If they do, I will come with you," jeered the Doctor, as he stalked moodily to bed.

"That's a bargain," shouted Helston cheerfully after him.

Now one reason why Helston had settled down here with the Doctor, and the great source of his ambitious dreams, was a certain lady named Milly, who, with her father—his name is not necessary, for he was always spoken of as "the Admiral", or "Miss Milly's father"—lived close to the village. He had wooed her constantly for many years, and had known her since she was born, but the somewhat disdainful little lady had refused him many times, though not without giving him some slight hope of better success if ever he were promoted to the rank of captain. However, as Mistress Milly never personally enters this story, nothing more need be said of her than that she was one of the most bewitching little flirts who ever tyrannized over an old father, or played havoc with the heart of every man she met.

A few weeks after this incident, and whilst the two were at breakfast, the old village postman stumbled up the path leading to their house, and Jenkins, a sombre, morose man of few words, brought in a big official envelope.

"What did I say, old chap?" cried Helston excitedly, tearing it open. "Didn't I say my luck would change? Hullo! this isn't an ordinary appointment. Whatever is it?" A large number of papers fell on the table, and, the Doctor showing some signs of interest, the two men hurriedly examined them, Jenkins standing behind at attention in order to learn the news.

The first one was from the Admiralty, informing Helston that the enclosures had been received through the Chinese Embassy, and ordering him to report himself at Whitehall immediately. These enclosures were lists of ships supposed to be wrecked on the Chinese coast during the last few years, lists of Chinese men-of-war supposed to have been destroyed during the Chino-Japanese war, and papers showing the gradual rise in insurance rates for the Chinese coasting trade.

"Where's your appointment?" sneered the Doctor. "I'm off to see my patients."

"I've got it, Doc; look here! Do you remember that old mandarin we got out of a scrape at Cheefoo once? Well, here's a letter from him. Listen!" Saying which, Helston sat on the table and read it aloud, whilst the Doctor filled his pipe impatiently:—

"DEAR COMMANDER HELSTON,—Perhaps you remember saving my life at Cheefoo many years ago? Now perhaps I can do you a good turn.

"For the last three or four years there has been a very large number of steamers, ships, and junks employed on the coast trade which have left port under favourable circumstances and apparently in good condition, yet have never been heard of since. The number has rapidly become so great, that myself and several friends interested in the shipping trade have suspected that these disappearances were not due to natural causes. This year, for instance, three of our newest steamers have left Nagasaki full of valuable cargo, and, though none of them could have experienced bad weather, yet none have been heard of since. All three, strangely enough, carried a large quantity of military stores for Pekin, which had been transhipped from German steamers, and all three left within three weeks. The captains were Englishmen—very good men, too—and what adds to the peculiarity of their disappearance is, that the captain of the English mail-steamer which followed the last out of harbour, and should have passed her eight hours later if she had been on her proper course, never sighted her. We searched the coast ineffectually for any trace of wreckage, and it is only within the last two months that we have obtained a clue.

"One of our large junks from Formosa, being short of water, made for an island, previously reported as being only occasionally inhabited by Korean fishermen. A few men went ashore to fill the casks, found the fishing-nets deserted and no water, so followed a path leading inland and winding up a hill. When nearly at the top they came across four dead Chinamen hanging from trees, and although very frightened, they still pushed on until they came in sight of the natural harbour on the other side of the island. They swear solemnly that, lying at anchor, they saw twenty or thirty steamers and several men-of-war, and that on shore there were many storehouses (go-downs) and huts, and a very large number of natives. They were just going down for water when one of these men, who fortunately had formerly been one of the crew of the Tslai-ming, our crack steamer, recognized her lying there. He is a cute fellow, and at once jumped to the conclusion that these were pirates (you remember how terribly frightened they are of 'pilons'?), and ran back with his fellows to their boat.

"They brought this news to us.

"Four years ago, when this island was last visited, it was reported as uninhabited. Personally I did not doubt the men's tale. In fact, they are so frightened, and have spread their story so freely, that it is difficult to get a crew together for any port south of Amoy.

"I have made very careful enquiries to account for the presence of the men-of-war, and have discovered that many of the war-ships, and nearly all the torpedo-boats which were run ashore to escape capture during the late war, had disappeared.

"The local mandarins and officials of course know nothing, but from the natives living near I find that large ships came and stayed near the stranded ships for some weeks, and finally towed them away. There is no doubt that two, if not three, cruisers in bad plight have been sold to a couple of Europeans, and have disappeared, where, no one knows. A couple of the Yangtze corvettes have also mysteriously vanished.

"I memorialized the throne, but they would do nothing, and made fun of my report. The mandarins got hold of my informants, tortured them till they denied the truth of their story, and then of course laughed at me.

"Trade was practically at a stand-still, so we decided to send one of our best captains, an Englishman, to see if the men's story was correct. He landed at night from a junk, disguised as a native, and spent a day on the island, running great risks of detection, and being taken off next night. He reports that there are certainly three cruisers and seven torpedo-boats anchored there, and at least twenty coasting steamers, among them being the three that disappeared when laden with military stores. Great numbers of coolies were working at the narrow entrance to the harbour, and, as far as he could see, they were mounting guns behind earthworks. He thought he could distinguish some Europeans, but is not certain. He brought a rough plan of the harbour, marking the positions of ships, buildings, and guns.

"I decided to take him next day to some of the ministers whom I knew personally, thinking that they would pay more attention to the word of an Englishman. I must tell you that the three natives who first brought the news and were tortured to deny it, have disappeared, and as they were very honest, faithful men, I suspected some underhanded dealing, and, thinking to keep the Englishman safe made him sleep in my yamen that night. Next morning he had disappeared, and his body was found two days later in a low quarter of the town, stripped of all valuables including the plan, which he had in his pocket-book, although this itself was not taken. The gatekeeper saw him go out, and there is no doubt his habits were unsteady, but for all that his death is very suspicious.

"Naturally I had no proof good enough for the Government, but my friends and myself subscribed ten million dollars, and asked the Government for another five millions, to fit out an expedition and destroy these pirates, offering to hand over to them the men-of-war we intended buying, and also a percentage of our recaptures. They refused at first, but thinking money was to be made out of it, promised us four millions, the protection of the Imperial flag, and the use of their dockyards.

"We had thought of applying to some European power to take the matter up; but you know the great tension of affairs out here at the present, and the acute international jealousies; we therefore came to the conclusion that it would take years to bring this about through the ordinary diplomatic channels, and as every year's trade is worth from £10,000,000 to £20,000,000 for us, we cannot afford to wait.

"I, therefore, as President of the China Trading Defence Committee, am authorized to offer you the control of this money if you will accept the responsibility of organizing a small expedition with the greatest possible speed to rid us of this unbearable piracy which is destroying our trade.

"You will get this letter and the enclosed lists and tables from our Ambassador in London, who will give you every facility for granting Imperial commissions for your ships and officers, and every information he can.

"I know enough of your service to think that if you take command of this expedition you will advance your prospects, and the opportunity of doing this I have very great pleasure in giving you.

"Wire me your decision and plans; don't worry about money—haste is the great thing.—Your sincere friend,

"PING SANG.

"TIENTSIN, 17th March.

"P.S.—If you do not accept the command it will be offered to Lieutenant Albrecht of the Imperial German Navy.

"I hope the Doctor with the broad shoulders and terrible fists is well. Give him my 'chin chin', and bring him with you if you can."

Helston finished reading, and both men stared at each other in blank amazement, whilst Jenkins commenced stealthily to remove the breakfast things.

"Well, of all the hare-brained, foolish schemes I ever heard of!" gasped the Doctor.

"There's something in it, old chap. Ping Sang was one of the richest mandarins in China when we were out there many years ago. A splendid chap, as you remember, and practically an Englishman in his ideas—he went to Charterhouse when he was a boy—and besides, his Government has taken it up, and I have to report myself to the Admiralty; so they believe in it, evidently. Why, old man," continued Helston, "if this is all true I shall get promotion out of it, and that means—you know as well as I do—that means Milly." And he danced about the room as if he never had had fever in his rheumatic legs.

"Stop that tomfoolery, and go off to London and find out whether it's all a mare's nest or not," said the Doctor. "Jenkins, go and get the Commander's things ready at once."

"For China, sir?"

"No. For London, you fool!"

"Very good, sir," and off went Jenkins.

"Well, good-bye, Helston, I'm off round the practice. Don't make an ass of yourself, and let me know the result."

By the time the Doctor returned Helston had disappeared, and it was late that evening when a telegram brought news of him. The Doctor hurriedly opened it: "Job genuine—accepted command. Send all clothes—cannot return—too busy."

Three days later he received a long letter. In it Helston wrote that he had been backwards and forwards from the Admiralty, the Foreign Office, and the Chinese Embassy the whole of the last few days settling preliminary details. "The Bank of England has one and a half million to my credit, on the advice of the Ambassador and Ping Sang, so the money is safe enough, and I am trying to get hold of any ship which will be ready in the next three months. Our Admiralty did not at first wish me to take command, and wanted to give me some captains, just as advisers, but I knew what that meant. They would get all the kudos; I should get none. So I told them that if I did not take command, absolutely and entirely, I would throw it up, and, of course, that meant that the Germans would get a look in. That stuck in their gizzards, so they piped down, and I am to be my own boss and have any officers I want, and a large proportion of men, from the navy. They have given me an office and a couple of clerks, and already I'm terribly busy.

"From what I can gather, their idea seems to be that a couple of cruisers of the Apollo type and two or three destroyers will be sufficient for my purpose and well within my means; that if I find myself unable to destroy the pirates, whose existence they still doubt, I shall at least be able to blockade the island till the present tension of political affairs is somewhat relaxed, when they hope to be able to detach some ships from our fleet to help me, more especially if I prove conclusively the existence of these pirates. You may bet your boots," Helston concluded, "if I can get away from England and past Hong-Kong without interference, I sha'n't wait for other help. My luck is at the top now, and if only it will remain there for eighteen months or so, I shall be a made man. Will it? that is the question."

"Silly fool!" thought the Doctor; "he's always brooding on his ill-luck. If people would only look more on the bright side of things, we should hear less about this fatal ill-luck which they always fancy follows them."

When he returned from the round of his very limited practice and opened the London paper waiting for him, he swore angrily when he saw that two columns were devoted to the proposed expedition. "Silly fool! giving himself away to these interviewers. It may make him notorious, but the Admiralty won't like it; and if there are pirates, they will learn his schemes and plans almost as soon as he knows them himself."

CHAPTER III

The Fitting Out of a Squadron

Helston Tricks the Doctor—Valuable Information—The Doctor makes a Bargain—The Squadron Assembles

A month had passed by, during which time the Doctor saw by the papers that Helston had acquired a cruiser at Elswick, built on "spec", an armoured cruiser being built by Laird's, for a South American republic which had waived its claim to her, and three destroyers which were being completed at Yarrow's, Thorneycroft's, and Laird's works respectively. At the end of the month he ran up to London, in response to a telegram, and met Helston at Waterloo.

"I should hardly have known you," he said, grasping his hand; "you look twice the man you did six weeks ago. What fool's errand have you brought me here for?"

"Going to show you round my little fleet, old chap. How's Milly and her old father?"

"She's all right. Asked after her Don Quixote the last time I saw her; but confound you, I'm hungry, I don't want to see your ships. I've seen enough in my lifetime; you ought to have known that."

"Come along then, old chap, we'll have some grub and put you in a better temper," answered Helston, smiling, and took him to his hotel.

They visited Yarrow's yard that afternoon, and next day went up the river to Chiswick, where Thorneycroft's destroyer lay almost ready for launching, with her engines and boilers on board. "Funny state of affairs, Doc, old boy," began Helston, as he patted her smooth sides, "for me to be buying ships. Fancy imagining six weeks ago that I should ever be signing cheques to the value of three-quarters of a million and thinking nothing of it!"

"How much did this one cost you?" asked the Doctor grimly.

"Just over £40,000—a mere fleabite," laughed Helston; "and she's to do her trials next week—a guaranteed thirty knots. That would shake up your wretched liver, Doc, rushing along at more than thirty-five miles an hour! It's a funny thing, but they have had several bids for her during the last few days, so I wrote out a cheque on the spot and got her. The others were a little doubtful about cash."

"Some of these smaller republics always are," laughed the manager, who was standing near them.

"It was Patagonia, too, of all others," continued Helston. "She tried to get all my ships, and, strangely enough, has never been in the market before, and doesn't possess such a thing as a ship."

"I expect she wants to become as civilized as some of her neighbours, and get up a rebellion against the army," added the manager.

After dinner that night Helston showed the Doctor a list of officers he had chosen, among whom there were several they had known in the old days. The Admiralty had put them all on half-pay and lent them to the Chinese Government for eighteen months directly Helston had made out their temporary commissions for the squadron he was fitting out. The Chinese ambassador had been empowered to sign their commissions, and the ships were to fly the Yellow Dragon.

"I see you have no doctors yet," said the Doctor. "I suppose no one has been such a fool as to volunteer."

Helston opened a drawer in his desk.

"There you are, nearly five hundred of them, men in the navy, army, and from every corner of the world."

"I didn't know there were so many fools on earth," growled the Doctor. "To whom are you going to give the opportunity of being drowned or blown up?"

"Oh, I'm not going to select them. I leave that job to my principal medical officer."

"What idiot have you managed to get hold of to do that?"

"You, old chap," replied Helston, slapping him on the shoulder; "you were the very first to volunteer."

"I!" said the Doctor angrily. "Why, I'd as soon think of volunteering for a trip to the moon!"

"Can't help that, Doc; you told me that night at Fareham, when you were in such a bad temper, that you would come with me if I got a ship, and here's your commission made out—'all belong ploper, savez'. Come on, old fellow, don't leave me in the lurch; come and have another look at China. We will look in at our old places in Japan and fancy ourselves young again. I'll make you as comfortable as you possibly can be on board a ship."

"Well, you have played a trick on me," answered the Doctor, after he had stamped and fumed about the room, "and if you were not steeped in fever and ague, I would see you at Jericho first; but I'll see you safely through this foolery—more for Milly's sake, though, than for yours, you sly brute."

"I knew you'd come, Doc; you aren't doing yourself any good moping down at Fareham, and the practice can manage itself pretty well, can't it? You'll get fleet-surgeon's pay, and Jenkins will be able to look after us both."

So this being settled, the two men discussed plans far into the night.

On the way to Newcastle next morning, and as the train was leaving King's Cross, a man jumped hurriedly into their carriage, his bags were thrown after him, and the door slammed violently.

"I'm sort of intruding," he said, by way of introduction and apology. He was a young and very handsome man, typically American from the long hair brushed off his forehead to his long pointed boots, his Western accent very strong and nasal.

"Guess you two ain't lived all your lives on land. I've been six years in the United States navy, and can spot a navy man like a pointer."

"Yes, we are both in the navy," answered Helston, smiling.

"There you are; you Britishers always call your navy the navy. Why, our American ships—ship for ship—would give 'em all points and knock spots out of them. We ain't got so many just now, but we're just scurrying around, and we've got the iron and the brains, and Congress will find the dollars. I'm quit of the navy. The guv'nor curled up and left me a pile, so I just sent in my commission and been enjoying myself ever since—that's four years ago next fall. Going out to China in a few weeks—shake up the oil business. The old man was in oil—see! Ever been in China—Asiatic station we call it—and met the old Monocacy?"

"Twice," said Helston, much amused.

"Well, I was a cadet for two years in that old packet—Reginald S. Hopkins, my tally—and I guess we have mutual acquaintances out there."

"My name is Helston."

"Helston!" ejaculated the American. "Why, I know your face—couldn't guess where I'd seen it before seen your picture in every illustrated journal I've taken up for the last ten days—shake, sir, shake," and he grasped Helston's hand warmly. "Very pleased to make your acquaintance. I reckon you're just about the most talked-of man walking the face of this earth just now."

The conversation naturally turned on the approaching expedition, in which Hopkins was keenly interested. "I guess I can give you some middling-sized information about those ships the Chinese ran ashore. I was out with the Japs at Wei-hai-wei, just looking round—kind of correspondent for a Boston journal—and went on board some of them. I reckon the silly idiot who bought that lot of scrap iron wished he had left 'em there. There ain't a dockyard in the States that could make 'em keep pace with a funeral. Why, I went aboard one of the torpedo-boats—high and dry she was—I'm mighty inquisitive, I tell you—her boiler had burst and blown up her deck, when she went aground, I reckon. I've never seen such a mess as the engines were—two horrid staring corpses been there a week, too—ugh!"

"Very lucky that I met you," Helston said eagerly. "I've telegraphed to a dozen men who were up there, and none know anything beyond doubtful rumours."

"I guess most of the Europeans were just searching around about that particular time, and looting or getting quit of the place, if they'd been aiding the Pigtails," drawled the stranger.

"You didn't hear anything about the cruisers which went ashore, I suppose?" asked Helston.

"Didn't I! Didn't I! I knocked up against a little Scotchman—chief engineer aboard the Mao Yuen when her old skipper shoved her nose on shore and cut. He was just about in a hair-raising funk, for the mandarins wanted his head, and the Japs his body. I packed him off in a steamer, and he was mighty glad to take his head with him, you bet!"

"Did he tell you anything of the condition of his ship?" asked Helston, "for she is one of those which have disappeared."

"Didn't he!" roared the American, smacking his thigh. "Why, all the time he was under my wing he kept shouting out, 'Oh God! Oh God!—two hundred dead bodies on board, burning fore and aft—they'll kill me if I go on deck—the boilers won't stand the pressure, and my home's in Glasgy'. He was just on being properly crazed, and during the night woke me by shrieking, 'We're on the rocks, we're on the rocks—the steam-pipe's burst, and I can't get on deck—the steam, the steam', and I found him trying to climb up the wall."

"She must have damaged herself very badly if the shock smashed her main steam-pipe," said Helston; "and they tell me at the Embassy that the Yao Yuen, her sister ship, which was also reported refloated, was completely gutted. It seems to me that any amount of patching up won't make these two much of fighting ships."

"You've just hit it, Captain. Give me the old Monocacy—you remember the old tub—and I reckon I'd wash out the whole crowd."

He left the carriage at their first stopping-place.

"Lucky we met him, Doc," said Helston; "his information may be very valuable, and he seems a fine type of an American naval officer."

"They are all tarred with the same brush," growled the Doctor—"think their own country the only one in the world, and they themselves its brightest ornament. A conceited, bragging liar I should call him."

"Liver bad this morning," thought Helston.

They went down to Elswick that afternoon and inspected the cruiser which Armstrong's had almost completed. She was, in fact, preparing for her engine and gun trials. She had been built as a speculation, and Helston had eagerly snapped her up for a trifle of £290,000. "We should have made another £20,000 if you hadn't settled at once," said the manager ruefully, "for the Patagonian agent offered us £310,000 next morning."

They next travelled to Birkenhead and saw Laird's destroyer, which was nearly ready for sea, and the armoured cruiser which was to be Helston's flagship, and had been promised in two months.

They were inspecting the cabins aft.

"If I'm coming with you, you'll have to knock those two into one," said the Doctor. "I'm not going to be cramped up in the ordinary cabin at my time of life."

"All right, old chap," replied Helston, giving the necessary directions, "what will happen if you don't get your own way?"

"Invalid myself home," answered the Doctor, with a twinkle in his eye. "Did the Patagonians want this one?"

"Did their best," smiled Helston, "but ready money did the trick."

"It seems to me that someone is very anxious you should not buy your ships, Helston. Somewhat fishy, isn't it?" suggested the Doctor, on their way back to London.

Two days later the papers published lists of temporary commissions granted by the Chinese Government to officers in the Royal Navy lent to a squadron now fitting out in England.

To Helston the Admiralty had granted leave to assume the rank of captain whilst he was in command of his squadron.

The rest of the officers, commanders, lieutenants, doctors, engineers, paymasters, marines, and warrant officers were all detailed for various duties—fitting out the ships, buying and supervising stores and provisions, and recruiting the crews.

The Admiralty lent the entire crews for the three destroyers and skeleton crews for the two cruisers, consisting of petty officers, seamen gunners, engine-room artificers, armourers, and also a small detachment of marines, whilst, acting on the advice of the Foreign Office and the Chinese Embassy, both of which threw out hints of the possibility of treachery, the remainder of the crews were taken exclusively from Naval Reserve men of known good character.

During the following three weeks several suspicious incidents occurred which suggested that influences were at work to retard or damage the expedition.

Thorneycroft's destroyer broke down on two occasions. On the second trial the finding of a loose nut in the high-pressure cylinder whilst the engines were being preliminarily turned, averted a terrible catastrophe. It was highly probable that it had been placed there intentionally.

Laird's cruiser developed several small break-downs, attributed to improperly fastened locking nuts, whilst the main bearings of one of her screw shafts became almost red-hot, and it was found that sand had been mixed with the water that was pumped over it during the full speed trial. This alone delayed the departure of the expedition for a month, as the huge casting had to be removed. Laird's destroyer was also run down one night by a tug-boat whilst lying anchored off Birkenhead, and as it was a perfectly clear night, and she was not in the usual course of tugs, this was very suspicious. Fortunately the damage was not serious.

Most serious of all was the discovery of a man, dressed as a dockyard labourer, tampering with the magazine locks of Armstrong's cruiser, with many yards of fuse and a dynamite cartridge in his pocket, which naturally he could not account for.

However, three months after the receipt of Ping Sang's letter, Armstrong's cruiser, named by Helston the Strong Arm, the three destroyers "No. 1", "No. 2", and "No. 3", and a stout little merchant steamer, the Sylvia, to be used as store-ship, were lying at Spithead, gaily flying the Yellow Dragon at their ensign staffs, and only awaiting the completion of the repairs to Laird's ship, which Helston named the Laird.

Helston, the Doctor, and two or three officers were still remaining in London completing the work of fitting out the squadron.

CHAPTER IV

The Pirates are not Idle

A Disaster—"The Mysterious Three"—Suspicions Confirmed—Three Chinamen—Helston Desperate

One night after dinner, whilst they were playing billiards, the folding doors were flung open and Hopkins, whom Helston had not seen since he had first met him on his way to Newcastle, rushed in, nearly upsetting the waiter.

"Excuse me, Captain," he said, as he warmly gripped Helston's hand. "I'm always just busting with energy; only landed on the Island three hours gone; tracked you here, and now mighty glad to meet you again. Been bustling round Europe for the last two months; done the capitals and the crowned heads and other sights; and now come here to pack my traps and off again. Say, Captain, how's your picnic progressing; just booming, I reckon?"

"Oh, fairly well," answered Helston, pleased to see him and introducing him to the others. "There have been several strange mishaps lately, which look suspiciously as if somebody was already working against us, but I think we shall be off in a week or two."

"Well, I call that just prompt; couldn't do it slicker in the United States. Maybe those accidents are simple coincidences."

"They may be, but they are very worrying, all the same," replied Helston, opening a telegram a waiter had brought him. He scanned it carelessly, but his jaw dropped. It was from the captain of the Strong Arm: "Regret to report Government powder barge fouled ram 8.15 to-night; drifted astern and sank, blowing up as she went down. Ship making water and down by the head. Must dock for examination. Explosion caused minor damages after-part of ship and stove in starboard plates of 'No. 1' destroyer. Regret report three men 'No. 1' killed. Crew of barge took to dinghy and pulled ashore."

Helston read it aloud, to the consternation of the others. "That means our departure delayed indefinitely," he said bitterly. "I must be off to Portsmouth at once." He went up to his room to pack a bag. Presently there was a knock at the door and Hopkins came in.

"Excuse me bothering you just now, Captain, but I've gotten an idea that this explosion ain't all fair and square, and I just want to fix up a contract with you."

"Well, what is it?" asked Helston, amused at his earnestness.

"Well, I reckoned this affair was going to be a simple slap-up picnic, and if there's devilry about now there will be a jolly sight more before you've squared yards, and I'm just keen to be in it. I'm a bit of a sailor and picked up a bit of the lingo, so I should be worth my nose-bag. Will you take me on, sir, if you find this explosion was due to treachery?"

"I'll see about it when I come back," replied Helston.

"Thank you, sir. Good-night;" and Hopkins disappeared.

"I don't care for that man," said the Doctor, as he saw Helston off to Portsmouth (they were talking of Hopkins). "He talks too much, and I hate foreigners. I hope you won't take him."

However, Hopkins himself was apparently confident that he would be taken, for next morning at breakfast he joined their table, quite unasked, and kept forcing his conversation on the Doctor. Now there was one thing the Doctor would never do, and that was, talk at breakfast; not even till he had had his after-breakfast pipe was it safe to address him, and he happened to be especially "livery" that morning. He was boiling over with wrath when the meal was over.

"Bad temper, I suppose it is," growled the Doctor, as, later, he jumped into a hansom and drove to the U.S. Legation; "a villainous liver that makes me dislike that fellow. At any rate, if he comes with us we had better know all about him."

At the Embassy he managed to get hold of several old navy lists, and found the name Reginald S. Hopkins given as a cadet on board the Monocacy in 1885, but no mention of it in later years.

He enquired whether the Naval Attaché was in the building, and, as luck would have it, he was, and could give the Doctor more information.

"A naval officer yourself, Doctor?" said the Attaché, looking at his card.

"Yes; belong to the 'pirate-catchers', as we are called, and this man Hopkins is very anxious to join us."

"Well, I see by my books that he retired, by permission, from the Monocacy in 1885."

"I found that out down below; but you know nothing more about him, I suppose?"

"Well, not officially, you know; but three or four years ago I was Flag Lieutenant of our Asiatic squadron, and we heard that he had been mixed up with the China-Japanese war, was in a Chinese ship at the battle of Yalu, and was afterwards said to have made a pile of money by buying the wrecked ships and selling them as old iron. He'd probably be a useful man for you to get hold of, I should think."

"I think he would," said the Doctor gravely. "I suppose you never met him?"

"No, never; but there were rumours that he led a wild kind of adventurous life among the Chinese with two partners, an Englishman and a German, prospecting for mines or running expeditions against rebellious provincial rebels. They used to be called the 'Mysterious Three' at the Tientsin Club, if I remember rightly, and were said to be hand in glove with many of the highest officials."

"It was a bad temper and a worse liver before," muttered the Doctor, as he drove away and directed the cab to a well-known detective agent, "but after hearing this—whether it's curiosity or suspicion, I'm going to find out more about that young man."

Next morning he received a letter from Helston at Portsmouth, which confirmed his fears that another and successful attempt had been made to damage the expedition. What was left of the powder barge had been examined by divers, who had reported that it certainly was not like the usual Government barges. The crew of three had disappeared, though they must have landed safely, as their dinghy had been hauled up the beach at Southsea, and this fact enhanced suspicions. Both "No. 1" and the Strong Arm had been docked by Admiralty permission at Portsmouth, and the repairs, which were being pushed forward night and day, would take at least six weeks in the case of "No. 1", though the cruiser was found to have suffered but minor damage.

"The bill will be tremendous," wrote Helston, rather despairingly, "not so much for the actual repairs, but it means keeping and feeding all the crews for six weeks more than I had calculated. At any rate they are, I am glad to say, all the keener after this affair to get to close quarters with the scoundrels, who have hit them below the belt. After the funeral of the three men of the destroyer who were killed, I went aboard each ship, fell the men in aft, and told them that any man who wished to back out of the job could give in his name to the master-at-arms. They broke out into cheers, and not a man has done so."

"Foul play after all, Hopkins," said the Doctor later, when he met the American.

"Well, I can't say I'm sorry about it," he answered frankly, "if it gives me a chance of a look in at the game."

Every day the detectives employed by the Doctor reported to him Hopkins's movements, but nothing suspicious whatever occurred for some days. He spent his time visiting business houses especially connected with the China trade, and in the evenings was either at the hotel or a theatre. Then, however, he was reported to have visited, the previous evening, after dark, a large "doss-house" near the Millwall docks, a place kept by a Chinaman for the use of the Chinese firemen and the deck hands employed in the ships trading to the East. He had stayed there nearly two hours, shoved several papers into his pocket as he came out, and was accompanied to the door by two Chinese, who appeared to treat him with the greatest respect.

It happened that he had hurried away from dinner that night on the pretence of going to a theatre.

"He's a liar, at any rate," thought the Doctor, but his suspicions turned into a different and more startling channel before the morning was over.

There were two little American boys staying in the hotel who had struck up a great friendship with Hopkins. Going down the main staircase he came upon these two—fighting as usual. "Clear out of this, you young rascals!" growled the Doctor, and the two boys ran away. Two steps lower down the Doctor noticed a brightly coloured stamp on the carpet, stooped down, and found it was one of a new issue of the Patagonian Republic. "Please, sir," said one of the boys coming back, "that's ours. Mr. Hopkins, the big man who sits at your table, gave it us this morning—tore it off a big envelope."

"I've never seen one before," said the Doctor, thinking of the strange coincidence.

"Mr. Hopkins has a big crackly paper with an enormous green sealing-wax seal just like it," chimed in the boy. "You ought to see it—it's lovely!"

"Phew! that's odd," he muttered. "What's Hopkins doing with Patagonian letters? And a 'big crackly paper with an enormous green seal' means an official document, so I should think. I hardly heard of the name till Helston told me they were trying to buy his ships. Phew! I wonder if he had anything to do with that? I'll find out."

But the Patagonian agency knew nothing of Hopkins. An Austrian by the name of Von Grootze had been engaged in the negotiations for ships, so the Doctor returned puzzled.

A few days later the detectives reported that Hopkins had again visited the "doss-house" in Millwall, and that next day a very large number of Chinese had shipped for Antwerp.

"Well, he seems to have something to do with these Chinese, receives communications from Patagonia, is a known adventurer, and, perhaps most convincing of all, I don't like him," thought the Doctor. "Helston is coming back to-morrow, and I'll have a long yarn with him about this business."

So next day he told Helston all the details that were arousing his suspicions, adding, "I don't suppose there is much in it, but I am a beastly suspicious fellow and don't like him."

"Well," answered Helston very gravely, "do you know what was found in that powder barge? A dead Chinaman!—unrecognizable except for his pigtail. We've managed to keep the fact very quiet, but this somehow seems to connect things, doesn't it?"

The best thing to be done, they both agreed, was to keep their eye on Hopkins, and to do that more easily Helston decided to make out his commission as secretary to himself. Later, when he gave it to Hopkins, no one could deny that his expressions of extreme pleasure were genuine. Two nights later, however, the Doctor, coming back to the hotel at midnight, went up to Helston's room with a very grave face.

"Pretty late to turn a fellow out," said Helston, switching on the light. "Hullo, man, you look pretty scared! What's in the wind now?"

"I've just come from that doss-house of which I told you. I pretended to the boss that I wanted a Chinese cook to take out with me. He was an ugly old Cantonese, and took me into his little room—pugh! how the place did reek of garlic and stale clothes—and went off to try and find one. Whilst I was waiting I heard a shrill argument going on in the next room—there was only a wooden partition between—and presently I heard a voice, which I would swear anywhere was Hopkins's, ordering silence."

"He told us he was off to the theatre," interposed Helston, now thoroughly awake.

"You can imagine I was on the qui vive then, and did my best to hear what was going on. Two Chinamen were evidently trying to extort money from him, but they were talking so shrilly and so fast—you know how they talk when they are excited—that I could not make out much of it till another voice chimed in, and I distinctly heard: 'He smokee too muchee opium, massa. Me go shakee him—no can move—vely big man—no can wait—go topside plenty quick—jump in boat—all plenty chop, chop—then makee blow up. Ah Tung belong dead man—you pay blother fifty dollars can do—all belong ploper.' You know their pidgin-English?"

"Can you swear it was Hopkins's voice?" asked Helston. "That must have been the brother of the man killed in the powder barge."

"I would swear to that beastly nasal twang anywhere."

It was early next morning when the two separated, and then they had decided not to let Hopkins suspect that they knew his treachery, and still to allow him to reckon on joining the expedition.

"In fact," said Helston, "to have him on board will be our best safeguard, and we must see that he does not give us the slip."

The detective reported that Hopkins had been to the "doss-house" the night before, adding, with a smile, "which you probably know already, sir, for you were there too".

As the Doctor and Helston were leaving the hotel—Helston going to his office and the Doctor for a walk—Hopkins joined them. "Any work for your secretary, Captain?" he asked good-humouredly. "I guess I'm just aching for a bit of quill-driving. I'm just about the cut of a secretary, am I not?" and he opened out his broad shoulders and smacked his chest vigorously.

"Not till we get afloat, thanks," said Helston.

"All right; I'll just come along with you to the corner, and then I'll be off. Have to make a few dollars—you Britishers aren't half smart—before I go sailoring again."

As they came to the end of the street they saw a small crowd curiously gazing at three Chinamen looking in at an A.B.C. shop.

"I'll pull those three fellows' legs," said the American, and, as they forced their way through the little crowd, he whistled the first line of "Chin, Chin, Chinaman".

The crowd recognized the tune at once, and there were shouts of "Chin, Chin, Chinaman!"

The Chinese turned round with fury in their eyes, whilst the crowd jeered at them.

The Yankee, laughing loudly, wished his friends good-bye. "Guess a Chinaman won't learn manners in London, anyhow."

"Well, he's not a gentleman, at any rate," said Helston, when he had gone. "Funny those three being there; you don't often see them so far from the docks."

"My blessed aunt!" said the Doctor excitedly, "it was a put-up job. I see it clearly. Hopkins wanted them to be able to recognize us again. Didn't you notice that they looked at us and no one else; and, now I think of it, he put his arm through yours just at the time—that was to point you out more particularly."

"Stuff and nonsense, Doc! You must not jump to conclusions like that. It was all done too naturally; I can't believe it."

"You always were an idiot," growled the Doctor. "I'd bet you anything I'm right."

However, every day after this, Helston met these Chinese—not always the same, he felt sure—and they always gave him a cold, impassive stare from under their slit-like lids as they passed him going to or coming from the office. Did he go round a back, unfrequented way, they were waiting for him outside his office when he left it. Did he walk on the other side of the road, they crossed over to gaze at him. There was no doubt left in Helston's or in the Doctor's mind that these men were in Hopkins's pay, and were being made familiar with Helston's appearance, in order to be able to kidnap or kill him when Hopkins gave the signal. Naturally it was exceedingly difficult to remain on friendly terms with this man, whose presence seemed to make their flesh creep, but outwardly there was no change in their relationship, or, if there was, Hopkins did not seem to notice it.

A month later and the incessant strain of being constantly watched wherever he went, and the endless worries and delays attending the expedition, began to have their effect on Helston, who was visibly losing the vigour his new appointment had first given him.

"Let us get out of this, old chap," he almost gasped one day when, coming back to the hotel, they had been met by three more villainous Chinese standing almost inside the door.

"Pour me out something to drink, Doc, to take the taste of the ugly brutes out of my mouth. If I don't get away soon my luck will desert me again, and they will murder me somehow or other. I can't stand them much longer."

Helston paced up and down in a very agitated manner, and it was very evident that the strain of the last few weeks was wearing him to a shadow.

"Look here, old chap," he said, coming to a halt, and turning abruptly to Dr. Fox, "it's my idea that if Hopkins intends mischief he will wait till the last few days before either disappearing himself or setting those sneaking Chinese dogs on to me. If we can only get him aboard and start several days before he expects the expedition to sail, his treacherous schemes may fail.

"Now, my idea is this. The Laird runs her after-repair trials to-morrow, and I will telegraph to her Captain and order him to report defects requiring twelve days to repair, and make arrangements as if our departure would be delayed till then, and give the information to the Press.

"The scheme is this, Doc," he continued excitedly. "'No. 1' destroyer runs her trials on Saturday next after coming out of dock. My idea is for us to go down to Portsmouth, take Hopkins with us—as if only for the trial, you understand—and, when we are out at Spithead, signal to the remainder of the squadron to prepare for sea, and to send a telegram to the Laird at Birkenhead ordering her to meet me at a certain rendezvous."

"That fellow Hopkins is a greater fool than I take him for if he is deceived by that," growled Dr. Fox.

"Perhaps you are right, but I will try; and I will wire to Cummins of the Laird at once."

"You had better use the cipher code," Dr. Fox suggested.

The twenty-four hours which followed the despatch of this telegram seemed like the same number of days.

Helston could not sleep. Twice during the night he came to Dr. Fox's room, with wild suggestions for warding off the blow he now felt certain was impending, and haggard and irresolute he paced to and fro in the smoking-room after breakfast next morning.

At one moment he would decide to rush off to Birkenhead himself; at another, that he would pack up and go aboard the Strong Arm at Spithead and await results there. Finally, he did not stir from the hotel till the evening, when the reply to his telegram arrived. "Full-speed trial successful; sundry small defects; condenser-tubes require fourteen days to repair."

It was Hopkins who brought in the telegram.

"Confound him!" cried Helston, with well simulated wrath. "We shall never get to sea at this rate."

Orders were made out that the squadron would sail from Spithead in fifteen days' time, and the date of sailing was communicated to the Press.

It was only Helston and Dr. Fox who knew that it would actually sail a week earlier.

"Thank God," exclaimed Helston, "there are only a few more days of these hateful Chinese!"

CHAPTER V

The Squadron leaves hurriedly

A Break-down Averted—The "Sylvia" and the Destroyers

The Narrative is continued by Lieutenant Hugo John
Pattison, R.N.

My name is Pattison, and I'm lieutenant in command of destroyer "No. 1", belonging to Captain Helston's squadron; and trouble enough I had to get her, and shouldn't have done so after all, but for a jolly little girl living at Fareham, who knew the Skipper when he was on half-pay.

"No. 1", of course, you remember, was damaged by the explosion out at Spithead, and had spent weeks in Portsmouth repairing. At last everything was ship-shape again, and on 16th October we were lying alongside the basin waiting for the Skipper, who was coming out on our trials, with steam blowing off in clouds and Elridge, our Engineer, getting very impatient. Presently down came Captain Helston, looking pretty well fagged out, and with him surly old Dr. Fox, and his Yankee secretary. Directly they got aboard, I cast off and threaded my way down the harbour and out to Spithead. As we were passing the end of Southsea pier the Captain borrowed my telescope, and saying, "There they are again", handed it to me.

"Those three Chinese, sir?" I asked him.

"Yes; they followed me down from town, and have been shadowing me for the last four weeks. You can imagine I am thankful to get afloat once more."

On our way to the measured mile we had to pass close to the rest of the squadron anchored at Spithead, and we stopped engines alongside the Strong Arm, whilst a boat came across for orders.

When we started again the Skipper seemed much relieved, and I quickly knew why, for he came for'ard to the bridge and told me to make for a rendezvous 250 miles s.w. of the Needles, and that there we should be joined by the rest of the fleet. "Thank God, Pattison, I'm at sea once more!"

"Not going back, sir?" I asked, naturally very surprised.

"No, Pattison, no. I'm sorry to inconvenience everybody, but it was absolutely necessary. Haven't you wished your people good-bye yet?"

"No," I answered, getting rather red in the face, for I was thinking that I had never even thanked the little girl who had got me my appointment.

"Nor have I, nor have I," half sighed the Skipper to himself.

The Doctor was apparently in the secret, but Hopkins, the Yankee, seemed terribly cut up, as he had made arrangements for a week's leave on very urgent private affairs, and in fact was only waiting for "No. 1" to get back to Portsmouth to start. How strange it is that Americans never seem to have any idea of discipline? He took it almost as a personal insult that he had not been informed previously, and for a second I thought he would fly at the Captain, he looked so angry. However, he calmed down quickly enough.

The orders that the Captain had sent aboard the Strong Arm were to direct Captain Hunter to proceed to the given rendezvous at easy speed, weighing as soon as possible after sending a boat ashore to telegraph to the Captain of the Laird.

They were exceedingly prompt in obeying this last order, for before five minutes elapsed, we saw their picket-boat tearing along in the direction of Portsmouth.

Hopkins is a careless fellow, and nearly brought us to grief. He had been down below poking about in the engine-room, and, just before we began to settle down to our trial, Elridge came up to the bridge to report to the Captain. As he was going away again he jokingly said to Hopkins: "It's lucky I went round after you. You know those lubricator feeds you couldn't understand? I found that you'd left every oil-cock turned off, and our starboard crank bearings would have been red-hot in a few minutes. You are a careless beggar."

"I'm so mighty inquisitive," apologized Hopkins, and asked Elridge to let him come down below again.

"Certainly not; I want you up here," said Captain Helston, in so angry a manner that everyone was quite astonished.

The news that we were not going back soon spread amongst my men, and Captain Helston ordered me to fall them in, just abaft the bridge, and made them a little speech—just the right thing—no big words and high-sounding phrases. He told them he was very sorry they wouldn't have the opportunity of wishing their friends good-bye, said he relied on them to do their duty, and held out the probability of prize-money. He has a fine, tall, commanding figure, and his speech went down with the men very well.

Nothing important happened. We never pressed the engines to full speed, and after a short time dropped to fifteen knots, which we kept up all through the afternoon, steering out of the usual course of ships running up or down channel till we reached the rendezvous and stopped engines.

Next morning "No. 2" and "No. 3" joined us. Late that afternoon the Strong Arm and the Sylvia, armed store-ship, joined company, and, ten hours later, we were all exceedingly pleased to sight the Laird. Captain Helston, his secretary, and Dr. Fox went aboard her as soon as possible, and the squadron, now united for the first time, steamed for Gibraltar.

I rather fancy we were all somewhat disappointed at sneaking away in the dark, as it were, and had rather expected, and looked forward to, a hearty send-off. There wasn't much time for regrets, however, for we had all our time taken up keeping station with the next ships ahead and astern, and plenty to think about.

Our little squadron made a brave show. First came the Laird. She was a cruiser of 6500 tons, with a narrow 4-inch belt all round her water-line. On her fo'c'stle she carried an 8-inch Q.F., another on the poop, and on each broadside were six 6-inch Q.F.—three on each side of the main deck in casemates, and three above on the upper deck behind shields.

Besides these she had eight 12-pounders and six 3-pounders, three in her fore-top and three in the maintop of her military masts. Four Maxims were mounted on the two bridges, and she also carried two 12-pounder field-guns. She had Belleville boilers, and had done 22-1/2 knots on her trial. She did not carry much coal, however, everything being sacrificed to armour, guns, and speed, so that her total coal stowage was only 900 tons.

After her came the Strong Arm: 3600 tons, eight 6-inch Q.F., ten 6-pounder Q.F., three 1-pounders; speed, 20 knots.

She had a search-light platform, with a fighting-top under it, on each mast, and these gave her a somewhat clumsy appearance; but she was a fine heavily armed little cruiser, and excellent in a sea-way.

The third in the line was the Sylvia, a trim, looking, strongly built merchant steamer, with a raking funnel and two pole masts.

She had four 12-pounders mounted on her sides and in addition carried two more field-guns and a couple of Maxim guns on field-carriages, which two guns were destined to play a very important part.

Besides 2000 tons of coal, she carried great supplies of provisions, ammunition, and stores of all kinds. On board also were the torpedoes and torpedo-tubes of the destroyers, for these had been taken out to lighten them during the long voyage to Hong-Kong. "No. 1", "No. 2", and "No. 3", in this order, brought up the rear of the line. Each of us carried one 12-pounder on our bridges, and five 6-pounders in addition. As it happened, though otherwise almost indistinguishable, my boat, "No. 1", had four funnels; "No. 2", two large ones, far apart; whilst "No. 3" had three. The identity of each could therefore be seen at a glance. "No. 2" had actually made the highest speed on her trial, 29.6 knots, "No. 3" had just touched 29.5, and my boat 28.9; but probably in a long race there would not be much to choose between them. We could practically keep up between 25 and 27 knots indefinitely, and be able occasionally to get another two knots for a short burst.

As to the men who formed the crews, there were on board:

*Laird* ................... 463
*Strong Arm* .............. 312
*Sylvia* .................. 40
Three destroyers .......... 177
——
Total ................. 992

The Laird carried 80 Marine Light Infantry and 100 naval petty officers and men; all the rest of the crew were picked from the Naval Reserve.

The Strong Arm had 40 Royal Marine Artillery and 60 Royal Navy men.

All the crews of the destroyers were men of the Royal Navy, previously trained in these delicate, fragile little craft.

Such was the composition of the little squadron, which, manned by nearly a thousand men, all volunteers, slowly steamed away from the rendezvous late on the afternoon of 18th October, and, painted a dull olive-green from truck to water-line, shaped its course for Gibraltar, and soon disappeared in the rapidly closing twilight.

CHAPTER VI

The Voyage East

A Gun-room "Sing-song"—The Dumpling gets Wet—Hopkins Disappears—Off in Chase—Escape of One Patagonian—Off to Colombo

The Narrative of Mr. Harold Swinton Glover, Midshipman, R.N.,
serving on board the Imperial Chinese ship "Laird"

You heard about all the rum things that happened to us before we left England, and how we all went to sea suddenly, no one knew why. We thought we were safe then; but not a bit of it, and just before we got into Gibraltar they found a dynamite cartridge down in the stoke-hold, mixed up with a lot of coal. It was jolly lucky they found it, for Ogston—that's our Assistant Engineer—says there would have been an "awful catastrophe" if it had got into a furnace. Don't think we were in a funk, because we weren't—at any rate not all of us—but it is such a beastly feeling to know that you may be blown up any minute.

The Skipper was terribly worried even before we got to Gibraltar, but you should have seen his face when I took him down some telegrams they brought off to the ship. I was midshipman of the watch. He gasped like a dying fish, and sang out to the old Doctor, who was there: "They've killed the Paymaster, and taken all his papers—mine and Hopkins's; did it at Lyons, in the boat express."

They both looked so scared that I crept up on deck.

Afterwards I heard that the Paymaster had been left behind to bring some valuable papers across Europe, and to join us at Port Said.

Well, we got into Malta, and more telegrams came aboard; but I wasn't on watch, and didn't take them down. They must have been pretty serious, though, for whilst we were all shifting into plain clothes in the gun-room flat to go ashore, the Commander's messenger came running down the ladder and sang out: "No leave for anybody!" So we had just to shove our things back into our chests and get into our dirtiest uniform, for the coal lighters were already alongside, and we were being smothered with coal dust. Jolly sick of life we were, too, I can tell you, for we had arranged to get ponies at Red Saliba's, down in the moat, and were off for a picnic to St. Paul's Bay.

"Some of us would probably have been killed or broken up, so p'raps it's all for the best," said Mellins (his real name was Christie, as I told you before, a tremendously fat cadet, who always saw the cheerful side of things), "and, now we've got the grub, we'll have a jolly good 'blow out' afterwards."

Then we all had to nip on deck, where we found any amount of row going on aft on the quarter-deck. The Skipper and Commander were there, looking very serious, with two marines close to them, holding a Chinaman covered with coal dust and in a terrible funk. You should have seen him roll his eyes.

I asked the side-boy what the row was, and he told me that a stoker had spotted him as a Chinaman, although his pigtail was coiled all round his head and he had a big cap over it, had searched him, just for luck, and found three dynamite cartridges in his pockets.

That was partly why our leave had been stopped, and one of us midshipmen had to stand at each coaling-port, with a couple of petty officers and a marine with fixed bayonet, examine every basket of coal, and prevent anybody coming on board, whilst others had to go down in the lighters themselves. "No blow out now," said Mellins sorrowfully, as he climbed down past me into the lighter; "but won't it come in handy afterwards?"

We examined that coal pretty thoroughly, you bet! Directly it came aboard it had to be upset on the deck, and we had to look through it carefully. But didn't it take a time, that's all! and weren't we jolly sick of it, especially when we couldn't get away for seven-bell tea?

Directly it got dark we knocked off, and then I had to go away in my cutter and patrol the starboard side, with nothing to eat except a tin of sardines, which Mellins passed out of the gun-room scuttle, and which I shared with the coxswain. He got the best of it, for he drank the oil.

We were relieved by another crew in an hour, and Mellins had saved me a bit of grub, which I tucked into, whilst the others started a good old gun-room sing-song.

Jeffreys, our Sub-lieutenant, who runs the show in the gun-room, suggested it. "Just show the beggars we don't mind, and cheer the men up. They've got dynamite on the brain."

When they heard our row some of the ward-room officers came down and joined in, and Hopkins, the Skipper's secretary, a jolly Yankee, gave a rattling good song. My eye! didn't we make a noise! and soon after the men began a concert of their own, forward on the fo'c'stle. Presently the Master-at-Arms came down to order "lights out", and Jeffreys asked for another half-hour (Jeffreys is a good chap, though he does lay it into us midshipmen if anything goes wrong), and the Clerk banged away at the piano again.

Then who should come down but the Skipper; and we made way for him to get a seat near the piano, and he joined in the chorus. When it was over, he got up and said: "Thank you, gentlemen, your sing-song was a good idea. Good-night!" And as he went away we gave him three cheers and "For he's a jolly good fellow", and went to sleep on our chests and in odd corners, for the ship and we were much too dirty to sling our hammocks.

We were at it again soon after sunrise, looking at every lump that came aboard, and some time after breakfast, whilst we were having a stand-easy, three destroyers came slowly in, flying a funny flag, which none of us had seen before, but which the signalman told me was the Patagonian.

We could not help laughing, for the first one was towing both the others, and one of these had a great list to port. It was a very comical sight. Hopkins borrowed my glass. "I reckon that ain't much of an advertise for the man who built those craft," he said in his funny Yankee drawl; nor was it, for they had evidently broken down.

Well, we got all our coal in by noon, had an hour for dinner, and then were hard at it cleaning down. It's really not bad fun, when you are horribly coal-dusty and it's jolly hot, to paddle about in bare feet, with your trousers tucked up above your knees, and the fire-hoses splish-splashing on the deck and washing the coal dust away—you get very wet, and it's jolly refreshing. I was bossing the quarter-deck, and the old quarter-master and I were watching the newly arrived destroyers, now busily coaling.

"What's them colours, sir?" said the wiry old man. "I never see'd 'em afore, and I've been nigh twenty-four years at sea, man and boy."

"Patagonian," I answered, and he borrowed a telescope and looked at them.

"Sure, there's some dirty Chinamen on board that craft, sir. Look at their heads poking out of the engine-room 'atchway."

Sure enough, there were five or six unmistakable Chinese faces, and I could see one coiling his pigtail round his head.

Of course we had Chinese on the brain rather badly, and Dunning (we called him Suet Dumpling, because his name was Cyril—a sneaking, under-handed, little midshipman, who couldn't pull himself up once on the horizontal bar), who was standing by us, ran and told the lieutenant on watch what we had seen, just as if he'd made the discovery himself, and he was sent down to tell the Skipper.

Up came the Skipper, for he couldn't see the destroyers out of his stern-ports, and stood looking at them, with that ass, Suet Dumpling, grinning with importance just behind him. "Tell the Commander I want to see him in my cabin," said the Skipper, and went down below again with a very grim-looking face.

The Dumpling ran forward to find the Commander. Now the man who was using the hose was washing down the battery-screen, close to the battery door, and, just as the Dumpling was disappearing through it, I called out to the man, and he turned round with the hose in his hand, just as I wanted, Dumpling getting it all in his back—he had just shifted into a clean white tunic, too. He was pretty wild, for he knew I had done it on purpose, but didn't say anything, though I thought I had better not sleep in my hammock that night, lest he should cut me down.

We slipped from our buoys at four o'clock and went to sea, passing quite close to the Patagonians, but there were no Chinese to be seen, and men were very busy on the two disabled ones, and the pumps on the one with the list to port were going for alt they were worth.

Of course we were all excited, the men especially, for we'd become so suspicious of Chinamen, that when everyone knew that there were some aboard these destroyers, we felt sure there must be something wrong about them.

"Why, Patagonia doesn't possess a single ship!" said Hammond, another of our Assistant Engineers, a jolly little fellow, who is a walking Brassey's Naval Annual, and knows every man-of-war in the world by name, and what guns she has, and all that. "Rather odd these three being there, and having Chinamen on board."

Then a rumour spread that the skipper had been heard to say to the Doctor; "If they are, they won't give us much trouble, for two of them seem badly broken down".

It was the detestable Dumpling who brought the news. "What did the Doctor say then?" we asked.

"'Whatever they are, they've stopped me going ashore, hang them! Everyone seems to have Chinese, pirates, dynamite, and Patagonia on the brain,'" said Dumpling, imitating the Doctor's irritable way of talking.

We all laughed. "Just like the old Doc," said Mellins. "I had to go for'ard to the sick bay this morning with stomach-ache, and he made me take some beastly castor-oil on the spot. I hate the stuff," and he grinned and said: "That's for kicking up that wretched row last night down in the gun-room. Kept me awake till midnight."

"The selfish old brute," we all agreed; "he doesn't care what happens, so long as he makes himself comfortable."

We were so excited about these destroyers, that I fancy most of us imagined we should see them suddenly tearing after us.

Whatever the Skipper thought, he was at any rate not going to be caught napping, and directly it was dark we altered course till we were twenty miles north of the usual track, and not a single light was allowed to be shown. I had to go round all the starboard cabins and see that the dead-lights were down, and in the middle watch, which I kept aft on the quarter-deck, I was responsible that they were kept closed. Funnily enough, Mr. Hopkins wouldn't seem to understand that he mustn't show a light, and twice I saw his scuttle lighted up during the night. I was afraid the Skipper might come on deck and see it and drop on him, so went down into his cabin. He seemed very bad-tempered, couldn't go to sleep on account of the heat, and must have his scuttle open to get fresh air, and his light burning to try to read himself to sleep. At last I told him straight that I should report him to the lieutenant on watch, and he then seemed to understand it really was necessary.

Nothing happened in the night, nothing indeed till we reached Port Said, where, right in front of us, were the three Patagonians coaling again!

The Skipper got more telegrams here, and it soon leaked out that the destroyers had all left Malta only two hours after us, all three steaming very fast in our direction. The harbour-master told us they had been in Port Said for two days, going out at dusk and not returning till morning; so we then felt sure that the break-down at Malta was all rot, and that they had simply been waiting for us off Port Said. Luckily the Skipper had refused to go near Port Said in the dark, but had waited about all night a long way to the north and east—the most unlikely place for us to be.

As soon as we made fast to a buoy, I was sent away in the second cutter and ordered to board the P. & O. Isis, which was lying off the Suez Canal offices (she had come in early that morning from Brindisi with the mails), and bring back a lieutenant who was to join us—a Mr. Staunton, who had been left behind in London with the Paymaster, who was killed at Lyons.

When I forced my way through the crowd of boats alongside, I slipped up the ladder and asked for him. The quarter-master, however, said he had gone in a man-of-war's boat several hours before, so I pulled back and reported. Then I was sent over to H.M.S. Hebe, one of our own gun-boats, doing guardship there, but they knew nothing of him—they had sent a boat for mails to the Isis, but she certainly had brought back no passengers. This was very strange, so I made my boat's crew lay back to their oars, and reported to the Commander as soon as possible.

He took me down to the Skipper, who looked very vexed when he heard the news. After that I and two other midshipmen had to go ashore and make enquiries at the consuls and all the hotels—a terribly hot day, too, it was, with an awful glare which fagged us all—but we could hear nothing of him. When we got back to the ship the three Patagonians had gone, and not only that, but Hopkins had disappeared, and, I can tell you, there was tremendous excitement on board.

Everyone, of course, felt sure that Mr. Staunton was on board one of the Patagonian destroyers and now miles down the canal, and many thought that probably Mr. Hopkins too had been somehow decoyed away. You see he was just the man they would want, for he was the Skipper's secretary and would know everything. Whilst we three were trying to get something to eat, the Commander's messenger sang out for me and Toddles (Toddles was the next senior midshipman), so up we had to go again.

"Get a few warm things together, and be ready to leave the ship in five minutes," he said. "You, Mr. Foote, are lent to 'No. 1', and you, Mr. Glover, to 'No. 3'." As we left the cabin to hurry down below he called out: "Don't forget flannel shirts and sea boots".

"All right, sir, thank you," we answered joyfully.

I borrowed one of Dumpling's bags, which I found lying about (I didn't ask him), and we were ready before the boat came alongside, Mellins giving us a basketful of grub as we shoved off. Toddles was put aboard "No. 1", and then they put me aboard "No. 3", where I reported to Mr. Parker, the lieutenant in command.

Luckily for me, Toddles in his hurry had forgotten his share of the grub.

I was sent aft to look after the stern ropes and see that everything was "clear" astern, for we were on the point of shoving off.

"What's up? Where are we off to?" I asked two men standing aft.

"Going after them pirates, sir, I expect. I heard Mr. Parker tell the Sub-lootenant that we 'ad to follow them as 'ard as we could."

I hadn't any time to ask more, for Mr. Parker sang out from the bridge "Let go aft!" and we hauled in the slip on the buoy astern. When the rope was clear of her screws and rudder I shouted out "All clear astern, sir", and away we went, following close behind "No. 2".

As we went past the other three ships the men crowded to the side and cheered us, for they had got wind of what we were going to do. It does make you feel ripping to hear and see people cheering you.

From the Laird Mellins made a semaphore signal with his arms, "Is grub safe?" so I waved back "Yes", and on we went into the canal. It soon became dark, and our French pilot made us run our search-light, though it wasn't much good, as the bridge got in the way. However, it lighted up both sides of the steep sandy banks, and we followed "No. 2" somehow or other. Of course we wanted to go as fast as we could, and the pilot nearly had apoplexy, shrieking and gesticulating with fright or anger, whenever "No. 2" forged too far ahead and we had to put on a few more revolutions to close up. "The wash, it will damage the banks!" he yelled. "They will make you pay. I give up my authority—I wipe my hands." Then we would slow down again and he would be quiet.

We reached the Great Bitter Lake about eleven o'clock and there changed pilots. The Patagonians were only two hours ahead, and we simply tore through this part of the canal. I felt jolly nervous, I can tell you, for everything looked all the darker on account of the searchlight, and we were simply sticking on to the stern of "No. 2". If she or "No. 1" had stopped suddenly we should have been all in a heap. I expect "No. 1" had an English pilot on board, or a Norwegian, perhaps. Our Frenchman was paralysed with funk.

We quieted down when we got into the narrow canal again.

We had to tie up once to let a big British India mail steamer pass us, and did not get out of the canal till ten next morning.

The Patagonians, we were told, had left three hours before; so after them we bustled, only stopping to let our pilots be taken off.

"Steam for full speed" was signalled from "No. 1", and down below dived Mr. Chapman, our engineer, to superintend things in the stokehold.

"They have three hours' start," said Mr. Parker to the Sub, "and it will be a very long stern chase."

"What have we to do if we catch them?" he asked.

"Search them," replied Mr. Parker.

"But what if they won't let us?"

"Search them," replied Mr. Parker, with a queer twinkle in his eye, and then I knew that there might be a fight. It gave me a funny feeling in my stomach, but I knew I was jolly lucky to get the chance and so ought to feel glad, and I really think I did.

We were all going it now with a vengeance. The smoke from "No. 1" and "No. 2" nearly blinded us, and we were shaking and throbbing as the hum of the engines gradually rose, our bows coming out of the water, and our stern squatting down in a mass of foam as we rushed into the wake of the others ahead of us.

I had never been so fast in my life, and was holding on to the bridge rails to avoid being blown away.

We went on like this for hours, and I felt too excited to go down below and get anything to eat. That shows what a ripping thing it is to be rushing along in a destroyer with an enemy ahead.

Presently we formed line abreast, "No. 2" on the starboard and we on the port side of "No. 1", about three miles away from each other, so as to cover more ground.

As it was getting dark we saw "No. 1" slow down to speak a small merchant steamer going north, and directly afterwards we were ordered back to Suez to inform Captain Helston that all three Patagonians had been sighted steaming south very fast.

Round went our helm, we heeled well over, our stern swung round, and we were off on our way back before you could say "knife"; but you should have heard what Mr. Parker and the Sub said, and the quarter-master too, for that matter, only he didn't do it so loudly.

We made our number to the Laird at Suez early next morning, having kept up nearly twenty-seven knots for the last twenty hours—a jolly good performance. We hadn't to wait long, for we ran alongside the Sylvia, filled up with coal, took ten tons in bags on deck, and away we went for Aden at twenty knots—quite an easy, comfortable speed.

I had to see the coal aboard, and made myself beastly dirty, and much missed the gun-room bath on board the Laird.

We got into Aden on the third afternoon without meeting any adventures. "No. 2" and "No. 1" were there, and so were two of the three Patagonians.

Mr. Pattison and Mr. Lang, the Skippers of "No. 1" and "No. 2", came aboard of us directly. They told us that they had reached Aden only four hours after the Patagonians.

They immediately made arrangements to coal, and meanwhile had gone on board the two Patagonians in frock coats and swords, and been received in a very friendly manner, and shown all over both, and not a trace of Staunton, Hopkins, or Chinese, for the matter of that, could they see. "We felt rather sold, you can imagine," said Mr. Pattison, "at having our long chase for nothing—a very tame ending."

The third destroyer, we were told by people on shore, had left an hour before we came, and was sighted from the top of the rock making east, till she disappeared below the horizon steaming at great speed.

"I could not follow her," continued Mr. Pattison, "for of course we had no coal, and some of our condenser-tubes were leaking badly, and both of us required a few days in harbour to put things right down in the engine-room. And not only that, but I dare not let these two Patagonians out of my sight, for Captain Helston thinks they will probably lie in wait for him in the Straits to the westward."

"We can go on directly we've coaled," interposed Mr. Parker eagerly, "for there is nothing the matter with us. Is there, Chapman?"

"No, rather not," answered our Engineer, adding, "we're Laird's built, you know."

"Very good," said Mr. Pattison, who was the senior of the three Lieutenants and therefore took command, "off you go to Colombo as soon as you have coaled, watered, and provisioned. The third Patagonian has most probably shipped Staunton, Hopkins, and all the Chinese to allay our suspicions of these other two, and whatever course she steers, if she is going out to the East, she must fetch up at Colombo. If she won't allow you to search her there, follow her out to sea and compel her to heave-to."

"Very good, sir," replied Mr. Parker, saluting.

"Well, good-bye, old chap; wish you good luck. Lang and I will be off, for here come your coal-lighters. When you are ready to shove off I'll make you a misleading signal, which you must act upon till out of sight of land, for those fellows can probably read our semaphore, and will be standing by to get any information possible."

CHAPTER VII

The Pursuit of the Patagonian

We Sight Her—A Stern Chase—We Overhaul Her—We Have to Apologize—Spinning the Yarn

Mr. Midshipman Glover's Narrative continued

For the next two hours we were hard at work, and when we signalled that we were ready for sea, and hoisted the "permission to weigh and proceed in pursuance of previous orders", "No. 1" semaphored, "Inform Laird that I cannot meet squadron, as condensers require repair".

"That's the misleading signal," Mr. Parker said, as he and the Sub spelt it out; "I only hope those fellows read and swallow it, for if they do they will imagine we are going up the Red Sea again."

To "create a diversion", as the Sub put it, we steered W. after clearing the harbour till out of sight of land, as if we were going to meet the squadron, then we steered S.E. for a couple of hours, and finally altered our course for Colombo.

It was very hot, very tedious, and very monotonous work steaming across the Indian Ocean. We had to go slow to economize our coal, and all fresh food gave out two days after we left Aden, and I hate tinned stuff altogether. I had to do my share of watch-keeping during the day, and soon learnt to handle "No. 3" as easily as a ship's steam-boat. You can imagine we grew excited as we began to approach Colombo. Whether we caught her or not depended almost entirely on whether they had believed the misleading signal at Aden, for if they thought we were on our way to Colombo, they would have, of course, hurried her away by telegraph.

"If we don't catch her now we never shall, for there are any number of places she can hide in and coal between Colombo and Singapore or Saigon," said Mr. Parker.

"Well, shall we shove her on a little?" suggested Mr. Chapman. "At this rate we shall get in to-morrow evening with eighteen tons of coal on board. I could give you another knot and a half if you like."

There was a long discussion about it—I was too young, of course, and did not have anything to say—but they finally decided it would be safer to have some few tons in hand.

"You see," argued Mr. Parker, as all three leant up against the bridge rails, "if they sight us before they know by telegram that we are on our way, they may think that we have no coal left and may 'clear out', imagining that we can't chase them. That would be certainly their most reasonable plan, wouldn't it? That's what I should do if I were in their shoes. We will just shove on every knot you can give us, Chapman, directly we sight the lighthouse, and that won't give them much time to get away."

I had the morning watch from four till eight, and had gone below to get some breakfast—sardines, jam, and ship's biscuit—when suddenly I heard the engine-room gong clang, and could feel the engines whizzing round. The plates began dancing about the table, and my coffee was nearly all spilt before I could drink it. I stuffed down the last two sardines in one mouthful and rushed up on deck. All the men were crowding forward under the bridge, gesticulating and pointing ahead. Climbing up to the bridge, I could make out the lighthouse and the long breakwater of Colombo.

"Is she coming out, sir?" I asked, for I could not see anything through my telescope—we were shaking so, and the ship was so unsteady. "The signalman says she is," said Mr. Parker, with his eye glued to his telescope. "Yes, there she goes! Look at that dark patch on the breakwater. That's smoke, and she's underneath it. My eye! she's getting up speed pretty quickly."

In another half-minute we could see her with the naked eye. She was showing up dark against the white breakwater, and was tearing through the water, running almost at right angles to us till she cleared the breakwater and the rocks. We were drawing rapidly together when she put her helm over. We saw her heel over, swing round, right herself as she settled down on her proper course, and away she flew, the Patagonian flag stiffening out astern.

"Follow her, Davis," sang out Mr. Parker to the petty officer at the wheel, as he tried to light his pipe behind the chart table. "Go to quarters, Collins (the Sub), and pass up ammunition." The Gunner and Mr. Collins flew down on deck to see everything prepared, leaving only Mr. Parker and myself on the bridge.

He shouted down the engine-room voice tube, "How much coal have you left, Chapman?"

"Nearly fourteen tons."

"How long will that last at full speed?"

"Rather more than an hour and a half," came the muffled reply.

"Then give me every ounce of steam you can raise."

At the time the Patagonian had altered course there was about one mile and a half between us, but she was rapidly gaining, for we had not yet reached our highest speed, and she was evidently doing all she knew. She was almost hidden under a great cloud of smoke, and occasionally entirely hidden by spray, for a slight choppy head sea, which we had not noticed before when going slowly, was now covering us fore and aft with spray.

Down I had to go to see the boats all ready for lowering, and when this was done run several messages to the Sub, who by this time had men at all the guns, and plenty of ammunition on deck. There wasn't much doubt that Mr. Chapman and his men were doing their utmost, for now we could feel the engines humming round like sewing machines, the ship began to throb and vibrate with a funny wriggle which you could almost see when you looked aft along the deck from the bridge. It was just as much as I could do to hang on to the bridge rails with one hand and keep my cap on with the other, whilst the spray wetted us from head to foot. The 12-pounder's gun crew had come up to the bridge and fondly cleared her away and loaded her. Then I felt that funny sensation in my stomach again, the sardines and the wobbling I expect it was, and hung on to the bridge and gasped for breath between the showers of spray.

You should have seen our funnels! What paint was left on them came off just like the skin of scarlet fever people when they peel, great roaring flames licked out of them, and clouds of smoke went rushing aft, whilst astern was a huge mass of churned-up foam, looking as if it would fall on board.

We must have been chasing her for nearly half an hour, and did not appear to be gaining. Mr. Parker kept on anxiously looking at his watch as we rushed along—now leaving Colombo behind us and running away from the dark belt of trees which marked the shore.

Presently Mr. Chapman came up on deck, sweating all over. "She's doing as many revolutions as she did on her trials," he shouted; "her engines won't take any more steam, I'm only blowing it off," and he pointed to clouds of steam hissing away from each funnel.

"Make a signal, 'I wish to communicate and send a boat', and keep it flying," roared Mr. Parker to the signalman, who was evidently prepared, for he had already bent the proper flags and pendants to the halyards and quickly hoisted them, the bunting stiffening in the wind like painted steel. I forgot to say that the Chinese ensign, the Yellow Dragon, was flying at our stern. How we did wish it was our own white ensign.

We all watched for a reply, but none came. There was no doubt we were now gaining—we could plainly make out a few men on her bridge looking at us from time to time—and judging from the great masses of smoke which were pouring from her funnels, the stokers must have been working desperately hard to escape from us.

"We're well out of the three-mile limit, I think, Collins?" shouted Mr. Parker.

"Yes, sir—ten miles away."

"Then try a shot at twelve hundred yards, Jones (the 'No. 1' of the 12-pounder). Go as close to her as you can without hitting her."

"Very good, sir." And Jones, a huge muscular man pressed his shoulder against the mounting and bent over the sights. How we did throb and pitch—the muzzle of the gun never seemed still, and it seemed ages before Jones fired. There was a beastly sharp crack, the cordite smoke drove back into our eyes, and we all strained to see the result. The shell burst half a mile ahead of the Patagonian as it struck the water.

"No one can shoot from a platform like this," Collins said angrily; "we're dancing about like a lot of marionettes."

Jones fired another shot, which burst astern, but not the slightest effect had either—still no answer to our signal, and no attempt to lessen speed.

Just then Mr. Chapman reported that he only had two more tons left, and had swept every bunker. Mr. Parker groaned, "She'll get away, and I can't even get back to Colombo. Carry on firing as fast as you can, Collins, with your two for'ard 6-pounders."

Then we heard, below us, the joyful voice of the Gunner singing out, "Target, right ahead, at one thousand—independent firing—commence."

Wasn't there a banging. But I was too excited to mind the noise, and we all cheered as every now and again one of our little shells burst close to the Patagonian. We were closing rapidly, and could see all but two of her men clear rapidly down below. Then one of our shells struck a boat they had stowed inboard near the stern, and great pieces of it flew into the air. Didn't we cheer, for at this they had evidently had enough of it, and clouds of steam came roaring out of their funnels as they stopped their engines. We were going so fast that we were almost on top of them before Collins jumped for the telegraph, and put the engines full speed astern and the helm hard over. With a great trembling and shaking our way was stopped, we swung clear, and lay still not fifty yards away from our prize. There was hardly need to use the engine-room telegraph to stop the engines, for they were gradually slowing down. Our fires were burning low, and there was no coal to replenish them.

"Train every gun that will bear on her," sung out Mr. Parker, "and stand by to fire. Get out the boats."

In two minutes the dinghy was in the water, and Mr. Parker was bobbing across the fifty yards that separated us. I had to follow him with six men in the collapsable Berthon boat, each of them armed with cutlass and rifle.

I felt jolly proud, you can imagine. We were alongside in a "jiffy". "You first, sir," said the coxswain, and shoved me up the smooth side, and I climbed aboard, followed by two of the men.

Mr. Parker was listening to a horrid little officer who was gesticulating and talking very furiously.

"Take six of your men to the fore bridge and don't leave it till I give you orders, and kick everyone else out of it," he ordered, so up we climbed and kicked the two men still left there down the ladder. They didn't want much kicking.

In a few minutes Mr. Parker went below, followed by the little officer, still stamping and swearing. He seemed to stay there for ages, and I was wondering whether I had not better send some of my men down after him, but could not disobey his orders, and of course there was "No. 3" with her guns trained on us not fifty yards away, and that was reassuring.

Presently up he came on deck, followed by Hopkins and a man I knew must be Mr. Staunton. The men in "No. 3" saw them and raised a great cheer; indeed, it was splendid to have rescued them, and so jolly lucky too, for we could not have caught her if she had run away for another five minutes.

But the best part of the "show" was to come, for presently up poured a number of Chinamen, I should think quite fifty, and they were taken across to "No. 3" in small parties till there wasn't one left. I felt jolly sorry for Mellins and the others of the Laird that they weren't there to see that little man stamp and fume and curse, whilst Mr. Parker looked on perfectly unconcernedly, and my six men kept their rifles at the present. I made 'em do this—I thought it would look better. When all the Chinese had gone, Mr. Chapman and his stokers came across, and the last boat-load towed over a grass hawser. With this they hauled aboard one of "No. 3's" cables, and then it dawned upon me that the Patagonian was going to tow us back to Colombo, for, of course, as I said before, we had no coal left, and were perfectly helpless.

It seemed rather rash to trust all those Chinese on board "No. 3" with only the very few hands left in her, but the leading seaman I had with me said, "Why, bless your 'eart, sir, them devils is all doves and sucklings now", and as he had been out on the Chinese station and knew them, that settled it.

Well, we got back to Colombo all right, and tied up to buoys inside the breakwater, and then there was a proper row. The skipper of the Patagonian went ashore and wired to his Government, and they wired to Peking, and Peking wired to us, and the result was that Mr. Parker had to put on his No. 1 frock coat and apologize very humbly for his "unwarrantable and high-handed proceeding". The fact was, you see, that the little man, who had been an officer in the Mexican navy, really had all his papers in order, and no doubt had a commission from the Patagonian Government. He swore he knew nothing about Mr. Staunton and Hopkins except that they had been put aboard at Aden from the other two destroyers, "and they take away all my good men there and give me Chinese pigs". That explained why we had seen no Chinese in Aden on board the other two.

Mr. Staunton told us his adventures, and how he had been captured at Port Said.

When the Isis, bringing Mr. Staunton from Brindisi, had anchored at Port Said, a man-of-war's whaler manned by men dressed as English blue-jackets, and flying the Yellow Dragon, had come alongside for him. Without the least suspicion he had been pulled across to a destroyer also flying the Chinese colours, naturally thinking it was one of our own.

Directly he climbed aboard he was seized and tumbled down below. They had not misused him, but you can imagine what his feelings must have been; and he said the food was awful, although they gave him whatever they could. "How that destroyer did stink on the way across from Aden, with all that crowd of Chinese on board!" he said, grimacing with disgust at the very thought of it.

Mr. Hopkins told his adventures too. "Just hustled ashore to have a squint at those cunning weasels alongside the coal wharf, guessed they'd played us a mighty smart trick way back at Malta, and was mighty inquisitive to see 'the cut of their jibs'. Ain't been looking at 'em time enough to see a cat jump, when round came two hands in front of my face, fingers on 'em, too, like steel claws, and laid hold of my windpipe as loving as a mother-in-law.

"Then someone caught me a whack behind the knees which brought me down, and before I could say 'Johnny Jones' I was lifted up, bundled on board, and plumped on deck like a bag of spuds." Mighty pleased they both were to be rescued, and Mr. Hopkins kept on smacking his thigh and roaring with laughter. "My snakes, how those black-livered, herring-gutted, fried-up tar-brushes of Patagonians did get to wind'ard of you at Malta! Just about won this round though, Parker?"

"I should just think we had," answered Mr. Parker, smiling.

Well, in the middle of all this off came a Cingalee telegraph boy with what turned out to be a telegram from Captain Helston. Mr. Parker came on deck after he had deciphered it, with a very grave face, and said: "Mr. Hopkins, I am ordered by Captain Helston to inform you that you must consider yourself under arrest for going ashore without leave at Port Said. I must request you to go below."

This was a facer for everybody; but Mr. Hopkins, with a look of amazement, obeyed immediately, leaving us on deck wondering why Captain Helston had been so severe. "His worries must have made him confoundedly strict," said Mr. Parker.

For the next days we lay at this buoy, keeping our eyes on the Patagonian, and with steam "up" in case she tried to leave.

We had a jolly good time ashore, and the dinners at the Grand Oriental Hotel in the cool of the evening, with the punkahs swinging to and fro, were simply ripping.

Then along came the rest of the squadron safe and sound, much to our delight, and Mr. Staunton and Mr. Hopkins were sent over to the Laird. The latter was certain to get a terrible wigging from Captain Helston, and we all felt very sorry for him.

Mellins and a lot of other midshipmen came over from the Laird, and Tommy Toddles from "No. 1", bringing a big cake his mater had sent out by the mail. We had a tremendous chin wag, and it was jolly to meet them all again, and spin them the yarn of our chase and capture of the Patagonian. How they did envy me!

Whenever I see a big cake now, I always think of that afternoon, sitting round the after 6-pounder gun platform, with the awning over our heads, and the big scavenger-birds (Bromley kites we call them) swooping round us as we ate our way through Tommy's cake.

A big P. & O. liner, too, homeward bound—she had waited an hour to take our mails—passed close to us, and the passengers all came to the side and cheered us, so we midshipmen gave a loud whoop all together, which brought Mr. Parker up on deck to order us to "chuck it".

They went back to their ship soon, and we had to patrol the mouth of the harbour after sunset, in case those other two Patagonians came in.

CHAPTER VIII

Mr. Ping Sang is Outwitted

Helston's Letter—A Tsi has Information—Ping Sang Acts Quickly—Ping Sang Watches—Ping Sang in Trouble—A Tsi Escapes—A Tsi Sights the Squadron—A Tsi Gives Warning

Mr. Ping Sang lived usually at Shanghai, but on hearing of the departure of Helston's squadron from Colombo, he had hurried down to Hong-Kong to confer with a friend of his, a wealthy merchant named Ho Ming, and to arrange for the rapid provisioning and refitting of the ships.

It was very necessary for the squadron to complete its task without delay, because the expenses of its maintenance were an enormous drain on the resources of the Trading Association, and also the depredations of the pirates had become so frequent, and their raids so successful, that coastal trade by Chinese-owned ships was at a stand-still. One thing was very clear, only ships belonging to Chinese subjects were attacked, and the most tempting bait, if belonging to Europeans, was left severely alone. Not a month ago a fine new steamer of 5000 tons had disappeared without leaving a trace whilst running from Amoy to Swatow—in fine weather, too—and it appeared that the pirates had begun to extend their operations to the northern part of the coast, for several ships had lately vanished near the mouth of the Yangtze in the most unaccountable manner.

An English gun-boat cruising among the Chusan Islands had reported meeting three ships flying the Chinese colours, ships which they were almost positive did not belong to the Chinese Government; but when a further search was made for them, they had disappeared.

Ping Sang was also anxious that the stay of the squadron at Hong-Kong should be as short as possible, for he was convinced that if the pirates intended making any more attempts to destroy the ships, they would choose that harbour in which to do it. One reason was that, ready to hand among the crews of the myriad of junks always assembled there, were hundreds of cut-throats from the lower reaches of the West river only too willing to commit any crime for money; and he was especially anxious to confer with Ho Ming, for this merchant owned a large fleet of junks trading up the river beyond Canton, and their captains and crews would probably be better able to obtain information as to the presence or suspicious movements of these desperadoes than even the police authorities themselves.

These two—Ping Sang and Ho Ming—were sitting in the latter's smoking-room on the evening of December 21 smoking their after-dinner cigars, whilst A Tsi, Ho Ming's confidential clerk and comprador, was detailing the results of his enquiries among the native floating population.

They were interrupted by an obsequious, white-gowned butler, who advanced through the mat-screened doorway and handed a letter to Ping Sang—a letter which Captain Helston had written from Singapore.

"The Imperial Chinese Ship Laird,

Singapore, 14th December.

DEAR MR. PING SANG,

My last letter reporting the proceedings of my squadron was written from Colombo on my arrival. I left that harbour on the morning of December 2, and proceeded to sea at easy speed, leaving destroyer 'No. 1' to await the arrival of the two Patagonian destroyers left behind at Aden, and destroyer 'No. 2' to keep touch with the third destroyer if she attempted to leave harbour within twenty-four hours of my departure.

They both rejoined me on 5th December at full speed, and reported the arrival of the two destroyers six hours after I had left, and that they made no immediate preparations for sea. After recoaling 'No. 1' and 'No. 2' from the Sylvia store-ship, a process which occupied seven or eight hours on account of a strong breeze and a slight sea, I proceeded at thirteen knots, and reached Singapore without further incident, anchoring in the outer harbour.

Here I was met by a collier, chartered in Cardiff under sealed orders, and am at present completing the coaling of my squadron.

I have determined, after the incidents of the dynamite cartridges on the way out to Gibraltar and again at Malta, to take no more coal from shore, and have arranged for a collier to meet me at Hong-Kong. Our men will alone handle the coal, so there shall be no further chance of foul play.

The man Hopkins is still under close arrest, and I consider that this course will be more conducive to the safety of the expedition than handing him over to the civil authorities, with my proofs of his complicity not yet substantiated. The fact also that he is an American citizen would open up many legal difficulties, and after the lengthy diplomatic representations as a result of Parker's opening fire on the Patagonian, it is advisable to steer clear of these shoals in future.

This morning I received a wire from Colombo informing me that the Patagonians had not yet left, and that one was still undergoing repairs.

I shall leave to-morrow, and, as the monsoon is fairly strong, I have dismounted the guns and the search-lights of all three destroyers to lighten them as far as possible.

The mail is just leaving, and by the time you receive this letter I shall be slowly punching my way against the monsoon. I hope to be in Hong-Kong not later than the 22nd.

Both Dr. Fox and I shall be very glad to renew our acquaintance with you there, and to talk of old times and adventures when we all three were much younger.

C.H. HELSTON."

Ping Sang was small of stature and plump to a degree. He lay indolently back in his luxurious, crimson-upholstered chair, resting his podgy feet on a richly embroidered footstool.

His jolly, oily face was wreathed in smiles, and he blew great clouds of smoke from between his fat lips as he slowly read this letter, his little eyes twinkling with humour and with appreciation of his own well-being and prosperity.

His fat little hands had short stumpy fingers, beautifully manicured and covered with rings, which glistened and twinkled as he raised a dainty Venetian glass to his lips. He was dressed in dark claret-coloured silk robes, with pantaloons of light green, held together with gold knob buttons and gold braid loops, and was undoubtedly a prosperous gentleman and a dandy to boot.

On the opposite side of the fire, sitting bolt upright in an attitude of keen nervous alertness, was Ho Ming himself, a tall, gaunt Manchu, whose long thin fingers, with their prominent tendons, clenched rather than grasped the carved arms of his chair. His light-blue silk over-garment hardly concealed his attenuated figure, and his face was as gaunt as his body, with thin, tightly drawn lips, deeply recessed eyes, and prominent hooked nose.

Between them and behind a carved black wood table, supported by black wood dragons, sat A Tsi, Ho Ming's comprador, almost hidden by the clouds of tobacco smoke circling round him in the dull light of an ancient bronze lantern which swung from the ceiling, and contained a cunningly concealed electric light. He was dressed solemnly in black silk, relieved only by gilt buttons. It was this man who for the last ten days had been searching for any traces of the Pirate Syndicate's intentions, and with several Cantonese sailors selected from his master's vessels had mixed, both on board their ships and in the opium dens and lodging-houses ashore, with all the floating population of Hong-Kong.

"Helston and his ships should be here in a couple of days," said Ping Sang, speaking in Chinese and handing the letter to the anxious Ho Ming; "everything is all right so far."

"Now, Tsi, tell us again what you have been able to discover."

"Nothing, sir, beyond what I have already reported. There are two large junks from Amoy at the Aberdeen Dock, whose crews are strangers to Hong-Kong. Two days before their arrival an Englishman arrived by a coasting steamer which had picked him up at Amoy, and he is now staying at the Victoria Hotel, and one of my men has seen him go on board these junks. From what I can find out, they have a much larger crew than is customary."

"It is very unusual for junks to come down here from Amoy," interposed Ho Ming, glancing keenly from one to the other, and hardly able to restrain his impatience at Sang's apparent indifference or his comprador's stolidity. "Those junks are probably full of explosives, and it would be an easy thing to float them up against any of Helston's ships in the harbour and blow them up. We must do something—we must! Why, the ships may be here any time!"

"My dear Ming," smiled Ping Sang, waving a fat deprecating finger and settling himself more comfortably in his chair, "we must not excite ourselves—that's the only thing we can do at present. We've not the faintest reason for suspecting either the Englishman or his junks; still, we may be able to do some little thing."

"I think it might be wise, just for the sake of curiosity, to burn those junks."

"But think of the law—English law; we are not in China now. ('Thank goodness', or the equivalent in Chinese, piously muttered the comprador). We can't bribe the magistrates here; and think of the risk and the punishment."

"Well, well," continued Ping Sang soothingly, "we won't do it to-night. To-morrow I'll try and get a look at this Englishman—I may know him and he may know me. Have you seen him yourself, Tsi?" he asked. "Is there anything peculiar about him?"

"No, sir; but the man who saw him go aboard at Aberdeen says he limped badly," answered A Tsi.

"A limp had he? Well, I rather fancy I shall know him, and I rather fancy he would know me," drawled Ping Sang, "though I'll take good care he doesn't recognize me!"

* * * * *

On each side of the entrance to the Victoria Hotel is generally a motley row of coolies squatting at the edge of the pavement with their mat trays containing sweetmeats, matches, or sugar-canes for sale among the rickshaw men who come and go. Among these, next morning, was a fat old man in a dirty pair of blue trousers, with a dirty blue tunic tied round his naked shoulders, clamouring for purchasers as he fanned a swarm of flies off his sugar-canes with his broad mat hat. This was Ping Sang, and all the while he kept his eyes glued on the hotel entrance. He had bribed a coolie to give him his place for the day, and there he squatted in this extremely uncomfortable position. Sportsman as he was, with all his love of luxury, he never did anything by halves, and there he stayed on the chance of seeing the lame Englishman, whilst the sweat ran down his back, and even the morning sun blistered it.

Presently a coolie—and Ping Sang recognized A Tsi—came out of the hotel and passed without apparently noticing him, but he had the forefinger of his left hand extended, whilst the other fingers were doubled up. That meant that the Englishman was not in the hotel. A Tsi sauntered back again. Two fingers of the other hand were extended this time. That was sufficient for the old gentleman. The Englishman had gone to Aberdeen, where the two Amoy junks were anchored. Gladly rising to his feet, Ping Sang stretched his cramped legs, slung his two baskets across his shoulders with a bamboo pole, and trotted down the main street, trying to imitate the usual ambling gait of a street hawker. It was several miles to Aberdeen, and he slowed down very quickly, dropping a sugar-cane every now and then to lighten his load, and eventually came to the outskirts of the town and to the broad road which runs along the edge of the sea. Finally he squatted down at a sharp bend of this road in the shade of a big tree, and waited with his baskets in front of him.

He had arranged for A Tsi to follow him, and presently that invaluable comprador came rapidly along in a tumble-down double rickshaw, still in his coolie dress and with a big bundle under his arm.

After much haggling with the rickshaw man, who did not appreciate the extra weight of Ping Sang's fat little person, the old sportsman got up beside A Tsi, and the coolie drew them along, sweating and grunting.

Half a mile before they arrived at Aberdeen the busy little bay, crowded with native shipping, came in sight, and A Tsi pointed out to his companion two very large junks lashed together in the middle of the harbour.

"These are the two from Amoy. They came in two days ago, and have not yet discharged any cargo. In fact they don't seem to have any," said A Tsi. "If you will wait by the landing-place I will go off to the junks under pretence of selling this bundle of ready-made clothes, and try and find out more about them."

They stopped the rickshaw some hundred yards from the centre of the village, paid their grumbling coolie, and then Ping Sang trudged down to the landing-place with his baskets of sugar-canes, and squatted by the road-side, in spite of the hostile looks of the vendors already there.

A Tsi followed at some distance, got into a sampan, and was sculled out to the junks.

Ping Sang watched him clambering over the ship's sides; but almost immediately afterwards he noticed that a scuffle was going on and saw A Tsi thrown overboard, and, missing his boat underneath, fall with a splash into the sea, bundle and all. He swam ashore easily and scrambled up the beach with a very rueful countenance, amidst the shrieks of laughter of the coolies along the sea-shore, who had gathered to see the fun.

As he passed Ping Sang he made a previously agreed-upon sign, which meant that the Englishman was aboard, then he entered an eating-house across the road.

Hardly had A Tsi disappeared when a rickshaw came rushing up, a Chinaman jumped out, threw a piece of silver on the ground and ran down to the water's edge, got into a sampan, and urged the boatman to hurry off to the same two junks. Ping Sang just caught a glimpse of his face and it seemed familiar, but where he had seen it before he could not think. He watched him board the junks, and wondered whether he too would meet the same rough treatment; but he did not reappear—he evidently belonged to them.

The old gentleman racked his brains, but could not, try as he would, remember that face.

An hour went by, the bell at the little dockyard rang out, and the workmen poured out to their dinner, and Ping Sang, after his unaccustomed exercise, felt very hungry, and longed for his usual luxurious lunch and Manilla cigar. He even felt annoyed that he, one of the smartest business men in the Chinese empire, should be such a failure as a hawker, for no one would buy from him. In desperation, hunger overcame his disgust, and he munched one of his own sugar-canes, smiling grimly to himself at the unappetizing meal. Presently the crowd was scattered by a double coolie rickshaw. The men, in gaudy uniform, stopped close to him, and shortly afterwards, for he kept his eyes on the junks all the time, he saw a European in a white helmet climb down into a boat alongside and come towards the shore.

The sampan rasped against the shore, and the white man stepped out and slowly limped up the sloping landing-place, scanning the faces of the men on either side.

Ping Sang's surmise was correct. He was one of the three men—the Englishman of the "Mysterious Three"—whom he had mentioned in his first letter to Helston—the most reckless adventurer of the lot.

Ping Sang thought there was little chance of his being recognized, but took the precaution of pulling his broad hat over his eyes and bending down over his baskets. It struck him too that his shoulders and back were not grimed and blackened with the sun, and he was hastily pulling his dirty tunic over them, when he was prodded heavily in the stomach, his hat was knocked off, and standing above him was the Englishman, bursting with laughter.

"Ask this man for his license!" shouted the Englishman, and a big Sikh policeman did so. Ping Sang had not one—the one thing he had forgotten in his "make-up"—and he fumbled in his belt to give himself time to think. Out rolled two of his favourite cigars, wrapped in silver paper (he had kept them to smoke on the way back after dark), and they were worth more than a hawker could earn in a month.

He grabbed them hurriedly, but the policeman was too sharp for him, and hauled him to his feet with an unmerciful twist of his pigtail.

"Robber! thief!" grunted the highly amused crowd, which had now flocked round them.

Poor old Ping Sang was dumfounded, and though ready for most emergencies when dressed in his usual clothes, had now not a word to say. In fact, thoughts and words do not come quickly when your scalp is being nearly torn off at every move.

The crowd made way as the huge Sikh shoved his way through, and Ping Sang had perforce to follow, vainly trying to ease the strain on his pigtail.

The Englishman came with them to the police station and charged him with stealing the cigars, and before Ping Sang knew what had happened a pair of handcuffs were snapped on his wrists and he was shut up in a room. As the door closed behind him he heard the Englishman say to the sergeant in charge:

"That's a double-dyed villain, sergeant; was a servant of mine once; had to get rid of him for prigging my things. There's another of them somewhere about, and if you'll lend me a couple of your men I'll have him here in no time."

Poor old Ping Sang's heart went to his feet, for if A Tsi too were caught, no one would know what had become of them. They might be in jail for a week or more before being identified, and meanwhile Helston's ships would arrive, and no word of warning could reach them except from Ho Ming, who, he well knew, was useless in any emergency.

A Tsi, however, had seen the whole incident from an upper window of the eating-house, where he had had his clothes dried.

The affair was evidently premeditated. Somebody must have given information as to Ping Sang's presence there, and no doubt remained that this European with a limp was the Englishman whom Ping Sang, the previous night, had said he probably knew.

Now the old man was under arrest, and till he could be identified and released any plan of action would be delayed, and so much time would be gained by the pirate syndicate.

It was useless his going to the police station and stating that the dirty old hawker was no other than the wealthiest merchant in China and the president of the Trading Association, for he himself was a dirty, disreputable-looking object, and would be probably clapped in jail as an accomplice.

No; he must get back to Ho Ming as quickly as possible.

He crept down the rickety stairs and was just going out into the street, when he saw the European with a couple of Sikh policemen coming straight towards the house, led by some gesticulating men who had seen him go in there.

It flashed across his mind that whoever had seen Ping Sang had seen them together, that he was now going to be caught on some trumpery charge, and he knew well enough that, unless he could escape, their predicament might not be known for weeks.

He made his way to the back of the house, but the inn-keeper, already suspicious of him, barred the way, and he fled up the unguarded stairs again, looking eagerly for some place in which to hide, but the rooms were as bare as a barn. He then ran to the rear windows to see if he could jump to the ground; but even if he did so, there was no escape from the yard behind, for two walls, too high to climb, ran back to the face of the hill, which here was cut in a perpendicular cliff.

Already he heard the tramp of heavy boots up the stairs, and, in desperation, was about to jump and chance scaling the walls, when he suddenly noticed that next to this house was a small temple or joss-house, and that a grotesque carving at the corner of one of the projecting eaves stuck out within jumping distance. Once he was on the roof of the temple he might climb across to some lower buildings behind, and might possibly find some place to hide himself.

It was his only chance; so without a second thought he kicked off his shoes, clambered like a monkey to the roof above him, crawled to the edge, balanced himself unsteadily, and sprang for the gilded dragon seven or eight feet away from him.

As he sprang he came in view of the street and heard a yell from the crowd; but it only made him grip more firmly as he fell on the grinning dragon, the rotten wood creaking and cracking as he drew himself on to the top of the joss-house.

Moving cautiously along, he jumped to the lower buildings behind, and saw, to his great joy, that they were built right up against the cliffs, which were here much less abrupt and might possibly give some foothold. If he could but climb to the top he would be able to reach Ho Ming across the mountain; so, clinging to bushes and clumps of grass, pulling himself up from rock to rock, he painfully made his way upwards. Looking over his shoulder, he saw one of the Sikh police following him. The man jumped from the roof of the eating-house to the joss-house; but the dragon, already cracked, broke under his weight, and he fell into the court-yard beneath.

This gave A Tsi a momentary start, for they now could only get on to the roof by climbing the pillars in front of the joss-house, and this was a difficult thing to do.

The crowd in the street began throwing stones at him and several struck him, but in desperation he clambered up and up, forcing his bruised toes into every crevice that would give foothold, now slipping and sending down a shower of stones, now gaining a yard or two. His hands were bleeding and numb with pain as he fought his way, till with a gasp of relief he wriggled and wormed his way to the top, and with a last effort swung himself over the edge and rolled breathless into some bushes.

Cautiously peering over the edge, he saw several coolies clambering after him, whilst the Englishman and the Sikhs encouraged their efforts from below.

Once they reached the top he knew that he would be captured in no time, for with his naked feet and want of training he could not hope to distance these sturdy coolies in a chase over the mountain-side.

As he clutched the edge, wondering what best to do, he accidentally dislodged a stone. It rolled down and made the climbers hesitate. Instantly seeing his opportunity, he wildly tore at everything he could loosen and hurled it down on his pursuers. The foremost was hit on the hand, and slid some feet before he could steady himself. Another had his eyes filled with earth and sand, and then with great relief A Tsi saw them all retreat, slipping and sliding to the roof of the joss-house, in spite of the threats and cajoling of the police.

Then he saw the crowd streaming along the road, and knew his pursuers would climb up some other way. Getting on his feet, he began painfully pushing his way up the thickly wooded side of the mountain slopes. He was now free from immediate danger, but must reach Ho Ming without a moment's delay. He dare not descend to the main road, because the police would be certain to be on the watch for him, besides which he dare not go into the town till after dark, for he was bleeding from many cuts, and his clothes were in tatters.

It was a terribly long way and terribly hard work to climb the mountain to the Peak, but he must do it and wait till dark before striking one of the roads running down to his master's house.

Hour after hour he climbed painfully and slowly, getting his directions from the sun, and occasionally catching glimpses of the harbour beneath him.

Presently he came to a large clearing, breasted the slope in front, and saw the whole panorama of the harbour below him glistening in the sun, and the dark mountain ranges of the mainland looming behind it. The tiny boats moving backwards and forwards were the ferry-boats to Kowloon, and like toy ships lay several English cruisers.

As he stood panting with his exertions, the boom of a gun came up from below, then another and another at regular intervals. A man-of-war saluting! He searched the harbour below him, but saw no sign of powder smoke. Quickly he glanced towards the narrow waters of the Lyemoon Pass, knowing that through this entrance men-of-war usually arrived, and then from a little black, moving object on the water he saw a tiny ball of white smoke shoot out, and presently the report came gently up to him. Nineteen he counted, then twenty and twenty-one, and understood enough to know that it was a foreign man-of-war saluting the British flag.

Throwing himself down on the coarse grass, he watched the black speck moving nearer and nearer, and as it emerged from the dark shadows of the Lyemoon Pass, he saw that it was followed by five others, the last three mere dots on the sea.

Gradually the little squadron become more distinct, and he was able to distinguish two cruisers with masts and military tops leading, a merchant ship with short, stumpy funnel, and then three destroyers. At last Helston's squadron had arrived, a day before it was expected, and, unless he could give warning, the ships would run the greatest danger before night was over.

Not a moment was to be lost, so painfully he pushed on, crawling round rocks and shoving his way through the undergrowth till he came to the outskirts of the villas on top of the Peak. Creeping behind garden walls and thick hedges, he made his way, without being seen, to the belt of trees and bushes which ran by the side of the road, among which he hoped to conceal himself till dusk made it possible for him to descend to his master's house.

Fortune, however, favoured him, for who should he see wobbling down as fast as his fat little legs could carry him but that merry little tailor Hong Sing, with a great bundle of clothes under his arm. He knew him well, and called him by name as he came near. The little man gave a frightened look round, and would have made off had not A Tsi seized him by the arm and pulled him into the bushes.

When Hong Sing had calmed down he hurriedly explained matters.

Luckily the little man was returning from trying on some clothes for a customer, and had in his bundle enough clothes to rig A Tsi as a respectable-looking butler. He had no shoes, but Hong Sing knew where he could borrow a pair from a house close by, and within half an hour A Tsi was walking boldly down the road with his escort.

As they neared Ho Ming's residence A Tsi stayed behind, whilst Hong Sing went on to reconnoitre; but all was safe, and at last the faithful comprador had finished the first part of his task.

Ho Ming had already returned from his office, but it was very difficult to make him act energetically. Like most Chinamen, he had the utmost fear of the law and those who administered it. He was more polite and obsequious to a police sergeant than to the wealthiest merchant in the colony, and it was a long time before A Tsi could persuade him to take immediate steps for the release of Ping Sang. He had not even heard of the arrival of the squadron, and walked rapidly up and down the room bemoaning the absence of Ping Sang and his own helplessness. "What can I do? What can I do?" was all he could say.

"You go at once to the Chief of Police and bail out Mr. Ping Sang; they will do it for you. Get them to telegraph to Aberdeen to send him up to head-quarters with an escort. Write a letter to Captain Helston before you go, and I'll take it aboard and warn him of his danger."

"Yes, yes; we ought to do that," faltered Ho Ming, already trembling at the prospect of interviewing the Chief of Police, and sat down to write a letter, whilst A Tsi went away to change his butler's clothes for some of his master's.

With the letter in his pocket, A Tsi hired a chair with four sturdy coolies, and was soon carried down to Murray Pier, off which the little squadron was now at anchor, and, taking a sampan, pulled alongside the Laird.

CHAPTER IX

Captain Helston Wounded

Ping Sang Kidnapped—Cummins gives Advice—A Narrow Escape—Helston's Fears—A Futile Search—An Exchange of Prisoners

The Narrative is continued by Dr. Fox

We arrived at Hong-Kong on the afternoon of December 22, after an uneventful voyage from Singapore, and received permission to moor at Admiralty buoys.

Helston expected Ping Sang to come aboard immediately, and was rather upset that he did not appear. He is still very nervous and irritable, and the chilly evening made him complain again of his rheumatism, though he certainly seems much improved in health and spirits since he shook off the Patagonian destroyers, and has, so far, brought his ships in safety.

He and I were smoking in his after-cabin, and making up our minds as to whether we would wait any longer for Ping Sang or go ashore, dine at the Club, and afterwards try and find the old gentleman, when Pritchard, the officer of the watch, brought down a letter.

Helston hastily tore it open. I saw at once that it contained bad news, but he handed it to me without saying a word, and rang for the quarter-master to bring down the messenger.

The letter was from a Mr. Ho Ming, of whom we had never heard.

"DEAR CAPTAIN HELSTON,

"I do not know what to say. My comprador brings you this, and you may trust him. His name is A Tsi. He knows all. You are in the greatest danger. Mr. Ping Sang has been thrown into prison this afternoon, and there is a fearful conspiracy to sink your ships. In great haste and distress,

"Yours respectfully,

"HO MING."

Hardly had I read it before the bearer of the letter was shown in—an honest-looking Chinaman, not marked by small-pox. He appeared exhausted, was much scratched about the face and hands, and I saw that a patch of blood had soaked through the right sleeve of his silk coat.

He told his story in a very direct, straightforward manner, and would not be disturbed in the telling of it, although Helston kept constantly asking him unnecessary questions, wanting to know the end of the yarn before he had barely started. I admired him for his pertinacity—though I generally detest Chinamen—and for his pluck, because he was evidently almost on the point of collapsing. In fact his legs nearly gave way under him several times, and at last I pushed a chair forward and made him sit down.

Helston seemed somewhat relieved when the story had been told, for, as a matter of fact, there was little enough evidence of immediate danger, and the thought of Ping Sang the sybarite shut up in jail as a common thief was somewhat amusing.

Hardly had he finished, though, before Pritchard came down from the quarter-deck followed by a native who was one of the tallest I have ever seen, and as thin as a lath. He was in an extremely excited condition, flopped down on a chair, said his name was Ho Ming, and began wringing his hands.

"Mr. Ping Sang has disappeared," he broke out; "gone, no one knows where. I go see Chief of Police and tell him who Ping Sang is. He perfectly satisfied if I will stand bail. Telephones to Aberdeen police station to have him sent up. They reply, 'The master of the man arrested this afternoon withdrew the charge and has taken him away'. What shall we do? What shall we do?"

He was in a state of most intense alarm, pitiful to see, even in a Chinaman.

"Phew!" ejaculated Helston, "that makes it more serious. Did they know where he had gone?"

"I no wait," whined Ho Ming. "I come to you quickly."

There was silence for some seconds whilst Helston and I looked at each other, for if Ping Sang had actually been kidnapped by this scoundrel of an Englishman, it was a most disastrous event for our expedition, because he was the head and brains of the Trading Association, and it was through him, and by means of his enormous credit throughout China, that the heavy expenses of the squadron had to be met.

Without him it was almost impossible to move, as I well knew that the funds with which Helston had in the first instance been supplied were well-nigh exhausted.

"See what Cummins has to say about it!" we both suggested, breaking the silence.

Cummins was the Commander of the Laird, and, even in the few months the ship had been in commission, had become the one man relied upon in every emergency either for advice or action. Short of stature, with a little thin body and very sloping shoulders, his head looked too big for his body and his long thin nose too big for his head. It was only when he talked, which he seldom did, that his dreamy grey eyes commenced to light up, and then they had the most humorous twinkle in the world. He was a great mathematician, had been a torpedo lieutenant, and was taken for a dreamy philosopher till you saw those twinkling eyes change to eyes of steel, and his somewhat effeminate, irresolute lips harden. This was only when he had a big job to undertake or a weighty decision to make.

He sauntered in, dressed as usual, without regard to appearance, in an old ill-fitting monkey jacket, the pockets of which had been roughly stitched at the sides, for he always had his hands in them and wore them out rapidly. He was chewing his usual wooden toothpick, biting off little pieces, which he carefully put in his left-hand pocket, whilst he carried a store of new ones in the right-hand one.

When he did speak he always commenced with a silly little chuckle which was distinctly irritating—to me at any rate.

He seemed vaguely amused at the presence of the two Chinese, and at the details of the crisis which Helston recounted to him.

"What do you advise?" asked Helston, biting his words, as he always does when excited. "Whatever we do we must do quickly."

"Heugh! heugh! heugh!" chuckled Cummins, selecting a fresh toothpick from his pocket, "I should give that cove some brandy first of all," pointing to A Tsi, who was looking pretty ill, and he smiled blandly at us, wandered off to a corner of the cabin where Helston kept his cigars, and lighted one, whilst a servant brought the drink and turned on the electric light, for by this time it had become dark.

Every now and then he gave vent to an irritating chuckle, as if immensely amused at the whole story, whilst Helston watched him with ill-concealed impatience, knowing that it was useless to hurry him.

Then suddenly turning round, he gave his advice:

"Communicate with the police, sir, and have Ping Sang traced. Get search warrants issued, and search every junk leaving Hong-Kong to-night. This Englishman has got a long start, but there is no breeze to speak of, and if he tries to get him away to the mainland, we might catch him if you sent the destroyers out at once. That man—the one with the brandy—would possibly recognize the junk. Send him with Parker ('No. 3'); he's the smartest of the three, and will probably get away first. I will go up and make the necessary signals, and have their searchlights sent over from the Sylvia. They may be able to get away in an hour."

Without waiting for Helston's "All right, Cummins, you carry on," he sauntered up on deck, and we heard him singing out for the signalman; and then, putting his head down the skylight, he chuckled; "Heugh! heugh! heugh! You need have no fear for your Chinese friend, sir; they won't hurt a hair of his head. They'll want to exchange him for that rascal Hopkins."

"Bless my soul, I never thought of that!" exclaimed Helston, much relieved; "I never thought of that!"

The Skipper's galley being called away, he and I went ashore, taking Ho Ming with us.

We landed at Murray Pier, and had to push through a crowd of curious Chinamen.

Helston clutched my arm and whispered excitedly: "There are some of those brutes who shadowed me in London. Get out of this quickly, old chap!" I thought he was probably mistaken, and put it down to his nervousness, but when we got into rickshaws and were driven rapidly up the street, I could swear that several detached themselves from the crowd and followed us in the dark shadows of the trees on either side.

However, there was no trace of them when we reached the main road.

By a stroke of luck we found the Chief of Police at Headquarters, and he telephoned to Aberdeen for more information.

Ping Sang had been discharged two hours ago, and was taken aboard the Amoy junks, one of which was just then sailing.

He listened impatiently whilst the Chief of Police spoke through the telephone.

"Has she left the harbour?" ... "Well, can't you follow her?" ... "How about the steam-boat?" ...

"She is already out of the harbour," he said, turning to us and hooking up the telephone-receiver, "and their steam-boat is under repairs and they cannot stop her. I'll send one of our patrol boats from here to cut her off."

"My destroyers must be ready by this time," interposed Helston, "and if you will make out search warrants, I'll catch her before she can get across to the mainland."

"The warrants would take some time," answered the official, "and I should have to see the Governor. The patrol boat shall get away immediately."

But for once Helston made up his mind. "Warrants or no warrants, I'll search every junk under way to-night," he said, and strode impatiently out of the room.

"I don't care what you do, outside the harbour limits," said the Chief of Police to me as I followed Helston; "and it's a very dark night, and no one will be any the wiser."

Ho Ming coming with us, we went down to the Victoria Hotel, and after some difficulty—for all we knew of the Englishman was that he walked with a limp—found that he had not returned in time for dinner, as was his custom.

Coming back from the hotel, I several times thought I could hear the pattering of soft feet behind me, though I could see no one. To reach Murray Pier, however, we had to go round the cricket ground, and as we passed along the front of it I saw two shadowy figures dart across to the trees which bordered the road at the side, and it struck me immediately that, if they meant any mischief, they might head us off there.

With a sudden inspiration, I sang out to Helston, who was ahead of me, "Race you to the pier for a dollar, old chap!" and called to my coolie, "Fi tee, fi tee! You beatee him fellow lickshaw, half dollah can do."

This was enough for the sporting coolies, and they raced like mad things round the corner and down the dark road.

It was lucky we were going so fast, because as we came abreast the one electric light in the road, two pistol shots rang out from the shadows under the trees and then a third. One splintered through the woodwork of Helston's rickshaw, and both our rickshaw coolies, with a yell of fright, dropped their handles, and fled for their lives. Helston tumbled head-foremost into the road at the sudden stop, though I was just able to save myself, and turning, saw a Chinaman within two yards of me levelling a pistol straight at Helston. I struck at him with my heavy malacca stick, and caught him on the wrist just as he fired again, the pistol rolling into the mud.

I STRUCK AT HIM WITH MY HEAVY MALACCA STICK

I grabbed at it, and the Chinaman fled into the shadows.

Helston scrambled to his feet, and we both jumped behind trees, the policeman on duty at the pier rushing towards us with his revolver in his hand and blowing his whistle lustily.

Ho Ming, whose rickshaw man had dropped him twenty yards behind, crawled out from behind another tree, and soon we had quite an army of policemen running up from different directions, one of them dragging my own wretched coolie after him into the electric light.

Then came some of our boat's crew with boat's stretchers in their hands, and just as they reached us Helston suddenly fell in a heap on the road.

They carried Helston down to the pier, and there he regained consciousness and struggled to his feet. I saw his left arm was broken. I supported him down to the boat, got him safely aboard, and ripped his clothes off to examine him. "Beastly ashamed of myself, old chap," he kept saying, "but they've got me in the chest too."

The bone was smashed five inches above the elbow. The flattened bullet had then torn a deep groove through his chest muscles, and he had lost a great quantity of blood. His wrist and forearm were also paralysed, so it was a pretty bad job, and took me and my surgeon, young Richardson, an hour and a half before we had him ship-shape again.

We ought to have given him chloroform and tried to sew up the damaged nerve, but he would not hear of it, because he was anxious to get the destroyers away and look after a hundred details, when once Cummins had reported their departure; and all the time we were busy with him, putting on splints and sewing up the wound in his chest, messengers and signalmen kept coming and going incessantly. He feared that one or other of the junks would drift down alongside and blow up, and worked himself into a tremendous pitch of excitement when the Strong Arm delayed reporting "all water-tight doors closed". Then he thought it would be advisable for the steam-boats of the two ships to patrol round and round till daylight, and it took a long time to get steam up in them, all of which excited him still more.

Of course I knew that Cummins would "carry on" without him perfectly well, and I am certain he knew that too, and the knowledge only made him the more determined to superintend everything personally.

Finally he wanted to go aboard the Strong Arm to see for himself that she was prepared for any emergency; but that was too much for me, and he eventually was satisfied with sending for her captain, Hunter, to report personally.

I made him eat some dinner—he had had nothing since lunch-time—and urged him to take a sleeping-draught. Not a bit of it. He was going to stay on deck till sunrise. "I'm no baby, old chap; it's all right, now you've fixed it up;" and he had a chair placed on the quarter-deck and sat there. However, I put half a grain of opium in his cup of coffee, and what with that and with the strain of the last few hours, he was soon sound asleep, and we moved him, chair and all, into the navigator's cabin, much to the relief of everyone, and especially of Cummins.

Personally I did not believe in the blowing-up theory, nor did I feel any intense interest either in old Ping Sang's fate or in the effects his disappearance would have on the expedition. As a matter of fact, I was pretty well bored with the whole affair, and would have "chucked it" willingly, but for my chum Helston. I turned in and slept soundly, as, thank Heaven! I generally do.

As I conjectured, nothing happened during the night, and at daybreak the destroyers had not returned.

Helston had slept fairly well, but, what with the pain in his arm and chest, a bad headache from the effects of the opium, and the disappointment of not recovering Ping Sang, was almost unbearable.

He had a great number of official calls to pay on shore, and was also very anxious to "carry on" aboard his ships, but I had at last to come definitely to an understanding with him and tell him very plainly—and he knew that I meant it—that I would not remain in the ship any longer unless he went on the sick list and did exactly what he was told to do. If he continued to play the fool, I swore that I would invalid myself home, and—perhaps most powerful argument of all, though I do believe he would not have had me desert him for anything—I assured him that if he persisted in refusing to act on my advice his health would most certainly break down, he would be obliged to give up the command, and then what hope would he ever have of winning that fickle little jade Milly.

Eventually we got him to bed—I was horrified to see how thin he had become—and I gave him another sleeping-draught, darkened his cabin, roped off the quarter-deck to prevent any trampling of feet over his head, and presently he went to sleep again, sleeping soundly till the afternoon.

He looked much less haggard when he woke, but I kept him in bed.

"How long are you going to keep me here, old chap?" he asked piteously.

"Two days more at the very least," I told him.

The destroyers had returned that afternoon without having been successful in their search.

During the next few days the police searched, without result, every junk in the harbour and every place where the Englishman could have concealed himself or Ping Sang. The second Amoy junk was found to contain no suspicious cargo, but, for all that, it was carefully watched, to give early warning lest she should attempt any treachery, because Cummins was still doubtful about her, and did not relax any precautions during those long nights.

Christmas-day went by, and Helston was able to walk round the gaudily decorated mess-decks, headed by our amateur band playing those atrocious tunes, "The Roast Beef of Old England" and "For he's a jolly good fellow", and everyone gorged as usual at lunch and slept like boa constrictors afterwards in their cabins.

I suppose I am too old for sea life, because Christmas so-called festivities on board ship bore me to distraction. At night the midshipmen had what they called a sing-song in the gun-room, to which the Strong Arm's gun-room had been invited. They made the most disgusting noise—it makes me angry to think of it even now—and had the confounded impudence to ask me down, as they all wanted to drink my health.

The yarn had got about that but for me Helston would have been killed.

Perfect rot! but there it was; and the Sub and senior midshipman came to my cabin after I had turned in and pressed me to go down, even for five minutes.

I was reading a favourite chapter of Carlyle's Sartor Resartus—what a biting cynic that man was!—and hate being disturbed, so told them to go to Jericho, and wished I had the power to send them there, the whole bag of tricks.

No news of Ping Sang had arrived, and though Helston naturally worried himself, Cummins was still convinced that, as he had been kidnapped solely to be exchanged for Hopkins, we should shortly hear of him.

And so it turned out, for a letter came one morning, apparently written by the lame Englishman and posted from Macao, the Portuguese town at the mouth of the West river.

He signed himself Chas. R. Hamilton, and suggested an exchange of prisoners. I quote an extract from his letter as showing his unbounded impudence and his evident knowledge that we were bound hand and foot whilst Ping Sang was in his power.

"... In conducting war against the Chinese Government at Peking (war he called it, not piracy!) we little imagined that we should have the honour of meeting ships manned by my own countrymen.... Ping Sang, you may be glad to hear, is in robust health, but is anxious to return to you, as, I understand, your further proceedings are practically dependent upon his financial assistance.

"As he is of such great importance, I am naturally loth to part with him; but unfortunately I hear you have on board your ship an old friend of mine, Reginald Hopkins, and if you could deprive yourself of his society we might, in short, exchange our two unwilling guests ...

"In arranging the details of such exchange I must first ask you to give me your word of honour that you will not attempt any treachery during the transfer, nor endeavour, once the exchange has been made, to follow or interfere with Hopkins.

"I suggest that you send a destroyer to Macao with your reply. On her arrival a man giving my name will board her and receive the letter. If favourable, I will then write you again, and only regret that my distance from Macao will cause much delay.

"Failing a reply I shall, of course, retain possession of Ping Sang...."

We had a council of war after dinner that night, that is, Cummins and Helston had, for I myself only sat near the fire and smoked, and refused to give any advice even when they asked me.

I am paid to come this fool's jaunt as a doctor, and I'll see them hanged first before I interfere with their job. I certainly would not let them meddle with mine. If they did follow any advice I happened to give and it was unsuccessful, I should never hear the last of it, or, if it by chance were successful, they would pat each other on the back and pretend and believe too that it was their plan all along; so it was much better to smoke my pipe and keep my own ideas to myself.

Eventually they decided to arrange the exchange, although Cummins seemed personally averse to such a proceeding, thinking it much beneath our dignity to treat with such a man.

CHAPTER X

Destroyer "No. 1" Meets her Fate

To Release Ping Sang—Trapped—"No. 1" Disabled—A Gallant Deed—Sinking—Poor "No. 1" Disappears

Mr. Glover's Narrative is now continued

The three days after Captain Helston had been shot (his coxswain told me he probably would have been killed but for Dr. Fox) were most exciting. Then things calmed down and became rather monotonous. We were not allowed ashore after sunset, however. Captain Helston did not want anything to happen to us midshipmen, and that was a nuisance, for we missed any amount of fun—dances and things.

Our gun-room people played the Strong Arm's gun-room at Socker in the Happy Valley, and knocked "the hide and hair" off them; and this was some consolation, for they had been rather uppish. We also had a picnic in the sailing pinnace to Deep Bay, which was jolly good fun, although we all got wet through coming back, and that ass Dumpling dropped the bread into the water whilst he was wading ashore with it.

I had been sent back to the Laird from "No. 3", and Tommy Foote (Toddles) from "No. 1", and on New Year's eve we were having a bit of a jamberee in the gun-room—we had asked for half an hour's extra lights—when Jeffreys, our Sub-Lieutenant, was sent for by the Commander.

We thought it was because of the row we were making, but he came back and told Tommy to get his things ready and stand by to go aboard "No. 1" at daybreak.

"No. 1" went off in the morning, but was back again in time for seven-bell tea. Tommy hadn't much to tell. They'd run over to Macao, and Mr. Pattison, the Skipper, had given a letter to a Chinaman who had come alongside as soon as they anchored.

That was all, and nothing more happened for seven or eight days, whilst we had to grind at school, mathematics and torpedo theoretical rot and other things.

But then there were more rumours, and one day we heard that all Hopkins's gear was being packed—you remember him, the Yankee secretary who had been under arrest ever since leaving Colombo—we often wondered why.

Tommy Foote was sent again to "No. 1", and when next morning Mr. Pattison came aboard for final orders, he was evidently to take Hopkins with him.

You bet your life I was dead keen to go with Tommy and see the fun, for there was evidently something in the wind; so I asked Mr. Pattison to take me too. You see I had rather a pull over him, for he was very sweet on my cousin Milly; so he asked the Commander and off I went.

We steamed out through the West Channel, and Tommy and I thought we were bound to Macao again, but we were wrong, and it turned out that our destination was a small island about sixty miles away, at least I should think it was that distance, for we were doing about fifteen knots, and it took us four hours before we ran into a narrow little harbour between high cliffs, anchoring some ten cables from shore.

There wasn't a sign of a living thing, and we waited and waited, whilst Mr. Pattison kept on looking at his watch. He told us then that we were going to exchange Hopkins for the old Chinese gentleman who had been kidnapped.

"Why! is Hopkins one of the pirates?" we both asked, somewhat disappointedly, for he was hardly our idea of a pirate, and we rather liked him, he was so amusing.

"I only knew it myself this morning," Mr. Pattison told us.

Well, presently a sampan came wriggling out from behind a small headland, and when it arrived alongside there was a fat little man sitting in it gorgeously dressed.

I didn't tell you that we had brought a man named A Tsi with us; but this man recognized him immediately as Ping Sang. The fat old chap climbed nimbly over the side and shook hands all round, so pleased was he to be safe again.

Hopkins was brought on deck, and apparently he and Ping Sang knew each other, though they only glared like two cats, and he climbed down into the sampan, Mr. Pattison taking no notice of him whatever.

However, Tommy and I stepped forward and shook him by the hand. I don't quite know why, but expect it was because we wanted to say that we had shaken hands with a real pirate. He seemed quite pleased.

His bags and boxes were so numerous that the sampan had to make two trips, and this delayed us nearly an hour, Mr. Pattison fuming with impatience, and steam blowing off from the escape pipes.

Directly the sampan had shoved off with its last load, we weighed and secured the anchor and were off back to Hong-Kong.

We thought our work was over for the day, but were mightily mistaken, for as we came to the mouth of the harbour, there, to our dismay, steaming gently towards us, were the three Patagonian destroyers, and behind them a cruiser painted dark green from mast-head to water-line, very much like the Strong Arm, only not so big. And they were, all of them, between us and Hong-Kong.

I never felt so scared in my life. Tommy went as white as a sheet, and even Mr. Pattison turned a bit yellow.

He swore terribly and cursed them for treacherous hounds—it was just about the neatest trap you ever saw in your life—and ordered the helm hard a-port.

Round we went, clear of the harbour mouth, and heading south as if we were going to run away; but if the people in the Patagonians thought we were going to do so they were jolly well mistaken; it was only to get up full speed and clear to quarters, which we did in a brace of shakes, the men as keen as mustard.

Tommy had to go down on deck and take charge of the two for'ard 6-pounders, but Mr. Pattison ordered me to stay on the bridge with him. The helm was put hard a-starb'd, we swung round like a top, and headed straight for them.

The destroyers seemed at first to be making straight for us too, but almost immediately turned off to starboard and ran into the little harbour we had just left. The signalman sang out, as they showed their sides to us, that they had no guns aboard, so that explained their flight.

We were now rushing down on the cruiser, going at quite twenty knots, and wondered whether she would open fire. We were not long left in doubt, for we were not more than eight hundred yards from her when we saw two little spurts of flame from under her bows, and then more from her fore-top, and the little shells whistled past and burst in the sea behind us.

I know I ducked my head, and rather thought Mr. Pattison did so too.

Then we began firing from the 12-pounder on the bridge and from Tommy's 6-pounders as fast as we could, and what with the noise of the guns going off so close to me and the whistling of the enemy's shells, I felt quite dazed, and it was no use to bob or duck, because the air seemed full of them.

Mr. Pattison startled me to life again by sending me aft with a message to the Sub. As I ran down the ladder two holes suddenly appeared in the after funnel, and a cloud of smoke burst out with a roar close to the after steering-shield. I must confess I stopped running, absolutely in a funk, and my legs would hardly hold me up. It was only for a second, though, and I ran aft just as hard as I could. The shelter screen was all bent and twisted, and in front of it were two of the after 6-pounder gun's crew lying on their faces, and blood was oozing from under them and running along the deck. I just managed to give the message to the Sub, who was bending over them, and then I was horribly sick.

I don't remember how I got back to the bridge, but just as I did so—and now we were not a hundred yards from the cruiser—a shell burst on the fo'c'stle close to the port anchor, and pieces came tearing through the canvas screen round the bridge with a horrid shrieking noise. Looking down I saw that one of the securing chains had been smashed, and that the anchor was now half over the side, hanging by one small chain.

Mr. Pattison saw it too, and tumbled down to the fo'c'stle, shouting to me, "Keep her as she is, and run along her starboard side as close as you can go."

I knew what he was going to do. If that last securing chain carried away, the anchor would go overboard, and even if the cable held at the stopper and did not run out, we might swerve right across the cruiser's bows and be cut in half.

We were right up to her now, and through her bow-gun ports I could see the men round the small quick-firers, but the mere fact of having a job to do prevented me from feeling frightened. Another second and we were alongside her fo'c'stle, not twenty feet away, and their small guns fired point-blank at us as we rushed past her side. I remember dimly noticing Mr. Pattison lying on his stomach on the fo'c'stle lashing the anchor for dear life. My ears were ringing and painful, my head seemed to be splitting, but I had enough common sense left to see that the stern of the cruiser seemed to be swinging into us.

She must have put her helm over, and meant to crush us as her stern swung round.

I yelled to the quarter-master at the wheel to "hard a-starboard", for she would be into us before we could clear her. I could just see his face as he stood on the steering platform below, and he heard me, but shook his head grimly and put the helm over to port. Our bows were already flying past her quarter-deck, and I saw at once that he was right and I was wrong, for our stern immediately began to swerve outwards.

It was a terrible moment, for she was swinging into us faster than we were swinging away from her.

She must strike us and I thought all was over, and gripped hold of the bridge rails, waiting for the bump.

Another second—there was a crash! We heeled right over to port till I saw the lee gunwale a-wash, and, oh horrors! the two men lying on the deck aft slipped overboard with shrieks of agony and fear. I saw our stern crumple like tissue-paper. We grated along, separated, righted ourselves, and were flying away.

Mr. Pattison jumped up to the bridge, yelling to "'midships the helm", but it would not move, and was jammed hard over.

All the men aft had been knocked off their feet, and I saw them scrambling up again as Mr. Pattison rushed aft, and all crowded round the crumpled stern.

We were now steaming in a circle, and our broadside was exposed to the cruiser, which commenced firing very rapidly again.

Then I saw the men aft jump clear of the rudder chain, the rudder swung amidships, and, thank God! we darted away; but something must have happened to the engines, for we were not going nearly so fast.

This has taken a long time to write, but probably did not last fifty seconds. It seemed a lifetime.

Directly we were clear Mr. Pattison came for'ard and took charge.

They had unshackled the steering chain, he told me, and the rudder had swung amidships. The starboard propeller had been smashed in the collision, and, with only the port screw working and the helm almost useless, we struggled along in a very erratic manner, our bows now going round to starboard and now falling off to port.

Shells were shrieking all round us, but going wild, probably because we were swerving so much from side to side.

To avoid exposing the men, Mr. Pattison ordered all those on deck to take shelter under the fo'c'stle, leaving only himself on the bridge and the quarter-master at the wheel.

I was sent with the necessary orders, and for the first time noticed Ping Sang and A Tsi standing on deck near the for'ard torpedo-tube quite unconcerned; but I hustled them for'ard, and everybody, even the Sub, Tommy, and I, had to crowd down below, and did not see what happened during the next five minutes, though they were evidently making better shooting, for we heard several small explosions where shells must have struck.

All at once there was a muffled roar and the hissing noise of escaping steam.

We three jumped on deck and saw a great hole in the deck near the base of the foremost funnel, and clouds of steam and smoke pouring from it.

We opened the manhole cover to the for'ard boiler compartment, more steam and smoke came swishing out, and in the middle of it crawled out a stoker, with his face and arms terribly scalded. He just managed to pull himself out, and, yelling with pain, would have thrown himself overboard, had not the Sub caught him and hurled him to the deck, where he lay writhing and shrieking.

Tommy and I peered through the manhole to see if anyone else was alive, but the Sub shoved us aside, and, with a heaving-line lashed round him, and holding an old oilskin in front of his face, crawled down. His name was Harrington—I must tell you it, because this was the pluckiest thing Tommy and I ever saw.

We took charge of the heaving-line, and he half-stumbled or was half-lowered down into the steam.

When he got down the ladder and put his feet into the water we could hear swishing about, he gave a great cry of pain—it must have been nearly boiling—but he did not hesitate, and we could dimly see him groping about on the bottom plates, and could also see that the water was rapidly rising, and was quickly over his knees.

He called out in a squeaky voice for another rope, and lashed it to something, which we two and some men who came to help hoisted up.

It was another of the stokers, but such a sight as I shall never forget. He was quite dead, and half the flesh was torn from one shoulder and from one side of the face.

As we hauled him on deck his skin seemed to come away with his clothes wherever we touched him.

Oh, it was a most fearful sight!

Tommy and I were roughly pushed away by an old petty officer, and the body was covered with a tarpaulin.

We could not keep our eyes off that heap, and should have fainted in another second had not Harrington himself appeared out of the manhole with his face just like beef and bleeding, and his hands like turkeys' claws.

He fell down on the deck, and as I knelt down he said in a hoarse whisper; "My feet, my feet! For God's sake undo my boots!"

We unlaced them, and oh, the terrible pain it was to him to take them off! and though we cut his socks with a knife, the skin all came off with them. He had fainted by that time.

Then I heard Mr. Pattison's voice, and Tommy rushed aft and brought some brandy and a pillow, and we propped his head up and poured a little brandy down his throat, though it was difficult to do it, because his tongue was so swollen.

They covered him with a blanket, but he was a huge man, and his two raw feet stuck out at the end. I shall never forget them.

All this terrible time I had noticed nothing else, but now, looking over the side, I saw that the destroyer was only going very slowly, and that there was a big hole at the water-line, where that last shell had come aboard, and water was pouring in.

No shells seemed to be coming our way now, and looking towards the island I saw the cruiser steaming away from us without firing, and, hurrah! hurrah! two great splashes of water leapt up, one after the other, close to her stern, and boom! boom! came the reports of heavy guns from the north.

"Hurrah! hurrah!" shouted Tommy, "there's the Strong Arm."

You can imagine what a relief it was and what we felt.

We yelled and shouted like mad things, and even Harrington had strength enough to raise his head and wave his arm, though he could not make as much noise as a mouse.

It was indeed the Strong Arm firing her foremost guns, and making a great bow wave as she steamed towards us.

"Out collision mat!" shouted Mr. Pattison, and the order was yelled down the fo'c'stle and everyone came rushing out, got a line round the destroyer's bottom, made it fast to the collision mat, and hauled it over the great rent in the side.

It took three or four minutes to do this, and by that time the deck seemed quite close to the water, and the stern seemed even lower. The Strong Arm was now drawing up rapidly.

Then I was sent with a couple of men to screw down the hatch covers leading to Mr. Pattison's cabin and the ward-room, and by the time we had done it the deck was a-wash.

The starboard engine had stopped by now, and we lay wallowing with a horrid log-like jerky motion whilst the men tried to get a tarpaulin over the hole in the stern, but did not seem to do any good.

The boats were next got into the water. They were full of holes, but by stuffing their jumpers into the shot holes in the whaler and by bailing hard, they just managed to keep her afloat. The collapsable Berthon boats were quite useless, being pierced in half a dozen places, and the dinghy was smashed to smithereens.

There was only the whaler for fifty men. This meant that most of us would have to take our chance of hanging on to an oar or wooden grating till the Strong Arm could pick us up.

By the time we had lowered Mr. Harrington (the Sub) and the scalded stokers into the whaler our stern was quite under the water, and we were heeling over to starboard, till fittings, not secured to the deck, began sliding down, and the sea came over the foot of our deck stanchions. We could actually feel poor old "No. 1" sinking under us—a horrid sensation.

"Scramble on deck, boys! All up from below!" was shouted down the engine-room and stokehold hatches, and everybody began taking off their boots and jumpers.

This gave me a very creepy feeling.

Steam was roaring out of the escape-pipe, and we all anxiously looked first at Mr. Pattison, expecting him to give the order to jump, and then towards the Strong Arm, wishing she would come along faster.

Mr. Pattison was hanging on to the bridge rails—the bridge had a tremendous slant—to keep himself upright, and the signalman hoisted a signal that we were sinking.

The Strong Arm came rushing up, firing fast from her bow guns, and for one horrid second I thought she would not see our signal in the excitement of chasing the cruiser.

Tommy and I were hanging on to the torpedo-tube aft with our feet in water, and I heard him gasp, with a very white face, "She's going on"; but a moment later we saw her boats' crews clambering over the nettings into their boats, and raised a mighty cheer of relief as she slowed down abreast of us. Her boats were lowered with a run and a splash, and came pulling over to us as hard as men could pull, and as they arrived alongside our men were ordered to scramble on board them.

We had a row as to who should jump first, for Tommy said that he belonged to the destroyer and I was only a passenger, so that he ought to be the last to leave; but I said that as I was senior to him—I was two places above him passing out of the Britannia—it was my duty to see him get into the boat first.

We had to cling to the torpedo-tube to argue it out, for the deck was now so steep we couldn't stand on it.

"Get into the boats you young idiots!" shouted Mr. Pattison. "Why are you keeping the boats waiting, you lop-eared sons of Ham?"

So we settled the matter by both jumping at the same time. I was jolly glad that I did not let him have his own way.

Just as we had all shoved off, Mr. Pattison being the test to leave, we heard a cracking noise—a bulk-head must have given way—"No. 1" almost righted herself—her bows came out of water and pointed higher and higher, till they were almost upright. There she stayed while you could have counted fifteen or sixteen, and then slowly slipped down out of sight.

There was just a little swish as the sea rushed in to cover her, two of her capstan bars came shooting out of the water, and poor old "No. 1" had disappeared. I felt rather snuffy, and I knew Tommy did too. We soon were aboard the Strong Arm, and down in the gun-room they all crowded round and asked questions. It was not till then that I discovered that my cap was missing, and found too that my hair was all matted together with blood.

Tommy searched and found a cut about an inch long, and felt rather annoyed, I think, that he himself hadn't anything to show.

You can imagine I felt jolly proud to have been wounded, though it did rather take the gilt off the ginger-bread not to have known it at the time. It was probably a piece of the shell that smashed the anchor-securing chain.

It must have delayed the Strong Arm nearly an hour, to stop her engines alongside "No. 1" and to get all of us aboard, and by that time the pirate cruiser was only a cloud of black smoke on the horizon, with the three little destroyers which had again come out of the bay steaming after her at full speed.

CHAPTER XI

The Action off Sin Ling

The Action Commences—Casualties

The Report submitted by Commander Richard Hunter, R.N.,
Captain of the "Strong Arm".

The report of the proceedings which Commander Richard Hunter, R.N., the Captain of the Strong Arm, subsequently submitted to Captain Helston, is so terse and yet so graphic, that it is inserted here.

* * * * *

"H.I.M.S. Strong Arm,

"Hong-Kong, 9th Jan.

"SIR,

"I have the honour to report that, in accordance with your signal received at 8.30 A.M. on 8th Jan., I immediately raised steam in fifteen boilers. One hour later I was able to slip from the buoy, and proceeded southwards to the rendezvous indicated in your orders.

"By 10 A.M. I was making fourteen knots, and at 11 nearly nineteen, which speed was gradually increased to twenty as the remainder of my boilers raised steam.

"At 12.35 P.M. the island then being in sight, the mast-head look-out sighted a cruiser and three destroyers steaming towards it from the west, and almost immediately afterwards sighted destroyer 'No. 1' leaving the island.

"The cruiser was apparently heading to cut off 'No. 1', whilst the three destroyers disappeared under the land.

"We then saw 'No. 1' head straight for the cruiser, which thereupon opened a vigorous fire from her small guns. 'No. 1' disappeared behind her and apparently fouled her stern, for she came away steaming but slowly and steering in a very erratic manner.

"She was now under a very severe fire, and a considerable explosion occurred nearly amidships at 12.45.

"Being now 10,000 yards from the cruiser, I opened fire on her from my foremost guns, and in a couple of minutes caused her to cease firing on the crippled destroyer and steam off to the southward. At this range I did not hit her.

"I followed at my utmost speed, and was rapidly closing, but as 'No. 1' signalled that she was unable to keep afloat I stopped alongside her and removed her crew. I regret to report that she sank immediately afterwards.

"I also regret that five men of her crew are missing, including two wounded men who fell overboard, and that ten are injured—Sub-lieutenant Harrington, suffering from severe burns and scalds, Midshipman Glover, slightly wounded, and one man badly burnt (since dead).

"Having re-hoisted my boats, I renewed the pursuit, and at 2 was overhauling her fast. Meanwhile the three destroyers had scattered and I disregarded them.

"At 3.25 we made our distance 6000 yards by range-finder, and I again opened fire from my forecastle 6-inch and the two foremost upper deck 6-inch.

"The enemy replied vigorously from two or three guns and continued her flight.

"Though we made one or two hits at this range, it was not till we had drawn up to within 4000 yards that our shooting became good, and at 4.32—the island of Sin Ling being five miles to leeward—she caught fire astern, steered wildly, and exposed her broadside.

"We now hit her time after time, and her fire became slow and very inaccurate.

"At 4.56 she hauled down her flag (the Chinese imperial colours, with a black instead of a red dragon and ball) and ceased firing.

"I too ceased firing and lay to about 2000 yards distant, unwilling to go within torpedo range. I then ordered my First Lieutenant (C. W. Smith) to board her, and gave him sixty men to form a prize crew and navigate her to Hong-Kong.

"When my boats were half-way across she suddenly opened fire on them, gathered way, and steamed towards me with the evident intention of ramming, an evolution which I managed to avoid by going full steam astern.

"She also discharged a torpedo whilst passing, which struck me on the port bow, and, though failing to explode, stove in one plate. Some water entered through rivet holes.

"At the same time she opened a very rapid and sustained fire, which caused many casualties on the open deck, where the men had crowded to see her.

"Thereupon I renewed the action, and quickly cleared her upper works and subdued her fire, my 6-inch shells doing very evident destruction.

"She was repeatedly hulled, flames burst out in several places, and at 5.15 made for Sin Ling at full speed, beaching herself in a sinking condition at 5.42.

"Daylight was now failing.

"I took the Strong Arm as far inshore as I dared, after picking up my boats' crews (they had been fired upon in the most wanton manner), and shelled her at point-blank range. In ten minutes I had the satisfaction of seeing a large explosion aft; a great gap was made in her side, she heeled to port till the water reached the base of her funnels, and half her deck was submerged. She was evidently too badly damaged to be floated.

"This being done, I returned to Hong-Kong and moored to my buoy at 9.25 P.M.

"Very little damage has been sustained by this ship, and it can be repaired without assistance from the shore.

"I regret, however, to report the following casualties:—

"Killed: One petty officer and five men.

"Wounded: Three officers, two petty officers, and thirty-five men.

"I have the honour to be, &c.,

"RICHARD HUNTER, Commander R.N.,

"Captain of H.I.M.S. Strong Arm."

CHAPTER XII

A Council of War

The "Strong Arm" Returns—Boarding the "Hai Yen"—Jenkins—The Council of War—Ping Sang's Chart—Cummins has a Plan—Ping Sang Remembers

Captain Helston, with his left arm bandaged to his side, and one empty sleeve of his monkey jacket flapping in the wind, was on deck to see "No. 1" slip from her buoy and start on her fatal voyage. No sooner had her dark hull disappeared in the morning mist than he began to regret having sent her. A fit of his old irresolution returned, and he would have recalled her had she been within signalling distance.

He sent for Cummins—a grotesque-looking object in the early morning, unshaven and wearing a pair of huge sea-boots.

"You know, Cummins," he began, "I have a feeling that something will happen to her. There is no knowing but that she will poke her nose into some trouble. What induced me to trust to their word of honour I don't know, and it may simply be a trap to recapture Hopkins."

"Ha! ha! ha!" chuckled Cummins, chewing his toothpick, "it's too late now, sir; we can't communicate with her."

"Well, don't you think it might be advisable to get up steam and follow her."

"Can't manage it, sir. They are refitting the starboard low-pressure piston-ring, and it won't be ready for another twenty-four hours. You might send the Strong Arm, though. I was always averse to trusting that Englishman's word."

Helston, to tell the truth, was somewhat nettled at Cummins's influence on board and his somewhat arbitrary manner, and the implied "I told you so" irritated him to a degree. So, saying sharply, "Very well, we'll let her go alone," went down to his breakfast.

But ten minutes later he again changed his mind, and made a signal which resulted in the Strong Arm's rapid departure.

He expected both ships back by four o'clock at the latest, and as the hours went by and there was no sign of either, he became extremely nervous and restless, pacing up and down his after-cabin all that afternoon. At dinner he scarcely touched anything, and was just on the point of going out himself aboard "No. 2" or "No. 3", when the signal midshipman reported that the Strong Arm was entering the harbour and making her number.

He ran up on deck to see for himself, and quickly a signal blinked across from the Strong Arm's mast-head lamp that she had driven a strange cruiser ashore, and rescued the crew of "No. 1", which had been sunk.

The news rushed like wildfire round the ship, and officers and men crowded on deck to see her slowly creeping to her buoy and signalling for medical assistance.

Helston went aboard her immediately, and Dr. Fox and the other doctors of the squadron worked all night with the wounded, many of whom had to be sent to the Naval Hospital next morning, including Harrington, whose condition was very grave.

Helston obtained a rapid report of the day's happenings from Hunter, and congratulated Ping Sang on his escape.

The identity of the strange cruiser was unknown, and even Ping Sang, who had more information than anyone else as to the resources of the pirates, had been unable to recognize her. However, it was a great achievement to have destroyed so powerful a vessel at the cost of one destroyer, though the loss of life was much to be regretted.

"You can't make an omelet without breaking eggs, I believe," was Ping Sang's comment, as he calmly puffed his cigar on the sacred quarter-deck.

The loss of life evidently did not worry him in the slightest degree.

Helston was most severe with Pattison, for, though praising his intrepidity and personal behaviour, he censured him strongly for his manoeuvring of "No. 1".

"What induced you to run straight at her instead of taking to your heels and escaping, I cannot think, and to leave the bridge in charge of a midshipman at the most critical moment seems to me to show a great want of judgment. You had no torpedoes on board, and it was impossible for you to damage her."

Except for the fact that his action delayed the cruiser, and ultimately led to her destruction, Helston would have sent him home forthwith.

This was not his hasty judgment, for he made no remarks at the time, but was given two days later when all the circumstances had been investigated more closely. In fact Harrington, the Sub, who had been so badly injured in his attempt to rescue people from the stokehold, was the only one belonging to "No. 1" who came in for any praise, and he was too ill in hospital to appreciate it.

This opinion was general throughout the squadron, and poor Pattison, who was sent to the Sylvia for duty, more or less in disgrace, felt it very keenly.

"I did the first thing that came into my head," he said, "and it wasn't till we were right on top of her that I remembered we had no torpedoes on board."

The morning after the return of the Strong Arm, this ship, with Helston aboard, and the two remaining destroyers in company, steamed to Sin Ling Island.

The strange cruiser was found still lying on the rocks—a melancholy-looking object. Her after magazine had evidently blown up, and she was a total wreck aft of her main-mast—a mass of warped and twisted plates and deck beams.

On her twisted stern was her name Hai Yen in Chinese characters, the gilt scorched by fire; but this name did not identify her, and her origin and history were still a mystery.

No complaint could be made of the Strong Arm's captains of guns, for their shooting had been marvellously effective, and her upper works were riddled with shell holes. Two guns had been dismounted, and her funnels were pierced in a hundred places.

Helston and Hunter had come to the conclusion that she had been escorting the three destroyers from the south, chiefly from the certain fact that they had neither guns nor torpedo-tubes aboard when first seen by "No. 1". These spare tubes and guns might still be aboard the Hai Yen. So a thorough search was made through the whole ship, and, though none of these things were found, it was discovered that the ship had been pretty thoroughly stripped of everything movable, and that the upper deck was covered with coal-dust. The coal must have been brought up after the action, because in places it covered great smears of blood, and the only inference was that the three destroyers had coaled from her bunkers during the night, removed all her remaining portable stores—even her small quick-firers had disappeared—and also taken her crew aboard them.

To make certain that the crew were not still on the island, Helston landed two hundred men and thoroughly explored it. It was but a small rocky outcrop from the Chinese coast, not a mile long, but by the time this had been done daylight was beginning to fail. No traces of the crew were discovered.

During this time the midshipmen had been allowed to inspect the ship, and, needless to say, returned with much spoil. One of them had an undamaged chronometer, another actually brought off the steering-wheel from the conning tower, two of them lowered the ship's bell into their cutter, whilst a daring youngster swarmed up to the foremast-head and secured her gilt weather-vane.

They were all vastly pleased with themselves and their trophies.

Everybody being aboard again, the Strong Arm steered to the north, and, on passing the island where "No. 1" had exchanged Hopkins for Ping Sang, sent the two destroyers inshore to reconnoitre; but though they entered the little bay where "No. 1" had been so neatly trapped, and explored the whole of the coast with their searchlights, no sign of any ship or junk could be found.

The three ships then returned to Hong-Kong, Helston taking Ping Sang back to the Laird with him.

Ping Sang and Dr. Fox dined that night with Helston, and that merry old Chinese gentleman, vastly pleased to be sitting once again in front of a good dinner, was amusing in the extreme.

He made even the surly Doctor smile at his adventures, and very droll were the descriptions of himself sweating along the main road to Aberdeen loaded down with sugar-canes ("Beastly stuff! I can't think why they eat it. Never knew what it was to earn a living of ten cents a day"); of being hauled along by his pigtail through a malodorous crowd of his countrymen to the police station ("Never knew I hated them before, till they began kicking me in the back"); of his struggles and protestations when the Englishman withdrew the charge and took him back to the junk; of his voyage to the island, shut down below in the stinking hold ("They didn't go across that night, but hid round a corner till the next"), and of his imprisonment on the island, where he was a guest of the same Englishman ("That man is a precious scoundrel, I tell you, and his food was worse; but he did give me some decent clothes, I'll say that for him").

The only one without a smile on his face was Jenkins, Helston's marine servant, who had persisted in accompanying his master; but this was due, as Dr. Fox well knew, to the fact that he had been ashore that afternoon, and was now assuming an air of extreme sobriety only to be accounted for by a too liberal consumption of beer.

He was an extraordinary man, this old soldier. He never went ashore without coming off half-drunk, and, as Helston often said, "he's always most drunk when he's most sober", and it was only by his preternatural solemness, or by noticing that he occasionally carried the dishes round the table at the double, that one knew that he had been making a brute of himself ashore.

Time after time Helston had dismissed him and sent him for'ard to rejoin the Marine Detachment, but always, next morning, he was stealthily creeping about Helston's cabin, folding up and brushing his clothes, and waking him at exactly the same time with "Six bells just gone, sir", and "'Ere's your cup of tea".

He had once managed to get rid of him by giving him "five days' cells", but before he had finished this punishment Helston's hair required cutting. No one could do this so well, so he was brought aft to do it, and, the job being satisfactorily concluded, Helston gave him one of his cigars, and twenty minutes to smoke it, before he was locked up again.

On the sixth morning it was "Six bells, sir, just gone, sir, and 'ere's your cup of tea", and he was now as much a permanent institution as the ship's bell or the ship's cat.

Ping Sang had gained much interesting but no valuable information from the Englishman.

"Hamilton is his name. I knew him well several years ago, before he disappeared, and he was always up to some devilment or other. If he could not manage to work for his living, he could certainly live by his wits.

"He gave me a very interesting account of his whole scheme. He, Hopkins, and the German, Schmidt—the 'Mysterious Three' of Tientsin—had put in fifty thousand dollars apiece, and many wealthy Chinese had subscribed very large sums in what he called 'our venture'. 'We've done pretty well. We have quite a respectable little fleet, and have captured thirty million dollars' worth of ships and cargoes, to say nothing of the ransoms some of our prisoners have paid for their freedom. We have friends throughout the country, and our prisoners know that if they talk too much when they get back, they will get their throats cut one fine night. We have had to do it to several already—just as a warning.'

"I asked him if he did not fear capture.

"'Capture!' he laughed, highly amused. 'You will never see any of us again, unless you happen to come as paying guests. Hopkins made a fool of himself, but he won't be caught napping again, and ten times your little fleet could not get into our island.'

"I asked him what became of all the crews of the many ships he had captured. Had he hanged them?

"'Hang them? Rather not!' he told me. 'One or two of the first few, perhaps, but ever since, directly they see what a fine life we are having there, they volunteer to join us, and make splendid recruits.'"

"Did you discover how he was going to get back to his precious island?" asked Helston.

"No, I did not. I asked him several times, and kept my eyes and ears open, but not a thing could I discover. He had nothing there except the junk, as far as I could see, and they gave me complete liberty to go about the island as much as I liked."

"How did you spend your time?" asked Dr. Fox.

"Playing cards with him, like a fool," said Ping Sang, wreathed in smiles; "and I lost nearly ten thousand dollars, and have promised to send them ashore directly we reach his island. He is going to send a junk for them as soon as we get there, and he had the cheek, too, to ask me to bring up all the things he had left behind him in the Victoria Hotel.

"Oh yes, I promised," laughed Ping Sang; "he amused me so, I couldn't help promising him."

Dinner being over, Hunter and the Captain of the Sylvia, Commander Bannerman, came across in their galleys, and they and Cummins of the Laird joined a council of war, to determine the future plan of operations.

It was a curiously impressive little scene in Captain Helston's fore-cabin that night—the polished table littered with documents and lighted by the hanging crimson-shaded electric lamps; the grey clouds of tobacco smoke eddying among the steel deck-beams overhead and curling through the after 12-pounder gun-ports; the glitter of the polished brass-work of the gun-mountings, one on each side of the cabin—a grim reminder of war; and the serious, eager faces of Helston and his three Commanders as they bent over the various papers and argued their plans and proposals.

The last time they had all met together round that table they had drunk success to the squadron, and gaily hoped that the pirates would give them a chance of "doing something".

Now they had done something—one of their three destroyers was at the bottom, and five of her men had gone down with her; nine of the Strong Arm's men were dead (three had died of their wounds), and thirty or more were wounded—and though they had destroyed a cruiser, still she had not previously entered into their calculations, and her appearance on the scene rudely interfered with their plans and expectations of only meeting old, half-repaired Chinese men-of-war. There might be more like her, acquired secretly, and with the memory of those nine bodies waiting to be buried in the quiet cemetery in the Happy Valley next morning, and the unknown strength of the enemy they were now going to meet, the council took their places round Helston's table with a certain solemnity.

Captain Helston himself, gaunt and thin, sat at the head, his long, thin face haggard in the electric light, his right hand nervously fidgeting with some papers in front of him, and his left arm still bandaged to his side, his empty sleeve sewn across his chest.

At the other end of the table sat Hunter of the Strong Arm, a man with a great red face and great red hands, a clumsy-looking giant, more grieved at the loss of his men than elated at the destruction of the pirate cruiser. A typical bluff, good-hearted sailor was he, not devoid of brains, but seldom troubling to use them. To see him in a football "scrum", and to hear his lusty roars of encouragement to his side, did one good, and one knew immediately what kind of man he was.

Use his brains! Why? God had given him a great body which never knew fatigue, a mind which never knew fear, and he was one of the "range-up-alongside-and-blow- the-beggar-out-of-water-and-if-he-won't-sink-ram-him" school of naval officer.

Antiquated in his ideas he may have been, but he was possessed, as are most men like him, of an enormous personal magnetism, and every man Jack of his crew would follow him to the death.

On Helston's right sat Ping Sang, bubbling over with humorous details of his escapade, red in the face, his eyes twinkling with appreciation of his good dinner. As he was beautifully dressed in his favourite colour of dark claret silk, and had a gold-knobbed skull-cap of the same colour on his head, his gay attire contrasted strangely with the more sober mess jackets of the others.

As usual, he was smoking a cigar, and had in front of him a big despatch box, from which he drew rolls of papers, spreading them in front of him with a due sense of their importance.

No one who had seen him on board "No. 1" the day before, standing calmly near the after funnel under a heavy fire, could help but praise his contempt for danger; but his first remark when he was taken off in the Strong Arm's boat and saw the destroyer slide under the sea was, "There goes four hundred thousand dollars", and when it was discovered that she had carried three men down with her, in addition to the two who had been knocked overboard, all he said was, "Men very cheap; plenty more to take their places".

It was very evident that everything was precious to him except the lives of the people whom he was paying to risk their lives for the protection of his vast trade. Already Helston and the others had lost some of their first admiration for the good-natured, plucky little man, and could not feel in sympathy with a nature so completely indifferent to death and suffering. Still, he was not a European, and allowance had to be made for the stoicism and callousness of the Celestial.

Next to him sat Cummins, an odd little figure, his tie up round his ears, smoking a stale old pipe, and chuckling to himself as some humorous fancy passed through his active brain. Nothing, however solemn or tragic, but had its amusing side for him.

Opposite him, and on Helston's left, was Bannerman of the Sylvia, a tall, restless man, with light tawny hair and cleanly-trimmed beard. He had employed all his social and service influence to be appointed to Helston's squadron, and always had a grievance that the Sylvia was only a store-ship. The other Commanders chaffed him unmercifully about his four little 12-pounders—the only guns she carried—and to ask him how much coal he had for them was always sufficient to get a "rise" out of him.

He was not popular, and when in a bad temper nagged his officers and men till they in turn were white-hot with silent rage. It was always with him: "My ship moored very smartly this morning, Cummins", or "Beat you yesterday unmooring, Hunter", or some other of the two or three evolutions the store-ship could take part in.

He did not disguise his knowledge that if anything happened to Cummins or Hunter he would get the vacancy, and, though he naturally never said so in so many words, it was quite plain he looked forward to such an event occurring.

His one idea was promotion, and he would stick at nothing to obtain it, caring not at all who suffered in the process.

Dr. Fox was there too, reading the Hong-Kong Evening Mail in an easy-chair by the side of the fire, and making some caustic remark from time to time.

A strange little group of fighting men it was: Helston, broken in health, and only eager for promotion because promotion meant his marriage to little Miss Milly; Bannerman craving for it for the power in its train; big-hearted Hunter caring not a jot, so long as he got plenty of fighting; and little Cummins, caring little for anything, so long as he could work out practically his scientific theories of modern warfare.

The island occupied by the pirates was called Hong Lu—merely a small dot on the Admiralty chart, lying in the middle of the Straits of Formosa, half-way between the Pescadores and Amoy. Ping Sang had had copies made of the rough map, drawn by the English merchant captain a year ago, and passed them round.

From these it appeared that Hong Lu was about five miles long, shaped somewhat like a horse-shoe, and that the harbour, inside the loop, was connected with the sea by a narrow passage between high cliffs, formed by the curved-in ends of the island.

At the loop end there was also another outlet to the sea even more narrow than the first.

The English captain had roughly marked the places, on each side of the entrance, where he had seen them mounting guns, and Ping Sang knew that, among the cargoes of the three steamers captured outside Nagasaki eighteen months ago, there were six 6-inch modern guns and many smaller quick-firers. As these had been intended for a new Chinese fort on the Min river, and as all their mountings and ammunition had also been on board, it would be an easy matter to mount them efficiently.

"They'll give us some trouble," smiled Hunter, gleefully rubbing his big red hands together; "take any amount of hammering if the beggars only fight 'em properly."

"I only hope they won't," muttered Dr. Fox from his easy-chair. "We've had quite enough poor fellows killed already, and I don't want any more work patching up the wounded."

"And here is the list of ships," continued Ping Sang.

This was the list of Chinese men-of-war which had been run ashore after the battle of the Yalu, and had apparently been salved by some Europeans—the "Mysterious Three".

It included the Yao Yuen and the Mao Yuen, sister ships, ten years old, and of about three thousand tons. Each carried two Krupp 8-inch and six 4.7-inch guns. Then there was the Tu Ping, somewhat larger and still older, carrying a 10-inch Krupp in the bows and nine 6-inch besides—all of them old-fashioned guns.

These were probably the three sighted by the English gun-boat whilst cruising in the Chusan Archipelago a few months previously.

In addition, two or three corvettes belonging formerly to the Yangtze squadron had disappeared. These, however, could never be made serviceable against modern ships.

"That little lot ought not to give us much trouble," said Hunter rather sadly; "they dare not come out and fight us in the open."

"They have ten or twelve torpedo-boats," interposed Cummins, who was a devoted believer in the possibilities of the torpedo, "and if those three destroyers, which must have been handed over by the Patagonian Government since we left them at Colombo, reach this precious island of theirs, they will give us no end of trouble."

"Yes, perhaps they will," said Hunter cheerfully. "It will add to the excitement, won't it? Make a more level game, eh? 'No. 2' and 'No. 3' ought to be pretty busy with that little lot. Almost wish I was in command of one myself."

"I should think it would make a more level game," came from behind Dr. Fox's newspaper satirically—"much more level."

"Well, what shall we do?" asked Helston. "Those three destroyers have at least twelve hours' start of us, and I don't suppose it will be possible to catch them, for, of course, we cannot leave until after the funeral of your men, Hunter. Directly the funeral parties have returned we will weigh and proceed north."

"Certainly, sir, we shall be ready," replied Bannerman and Hunter, the latter, adding, "Of course, sir, I could not leave till I had buried my men."

"Excuse me, sir," interposed Cummins, chuckling in his nervous manner; "those destroyers could not take all the crew of the Hai Yen and her stores without being unseaworthy. They must have had some other ship there, and if she had been a man-of-war we should have seen something of her. Don't you think that must have been so, sir?"

"Certainly; I half suspected it myself."

"Well then, sir, they must have had a merchant steamer, and a pretty small one at that, otherwise they could not have got her in close enough to transfer all those stores in one night, the water is so shallow."

"Certainly, certainly," nodded the others.

"Therefore, if she was small, there are but few such steamers that can steam more than ten knots, and this, or more probably less, will be her speed to Hong Lu, and the destroyers would be pretty certain to convoy her, and so we might catch them as well."

"You want us to start immediately?" asked Helston.

"Certainly, sir, and at your highest speed, sending 'No. 2' and 'No. 3' ahead, if possible, and with luck we might bag them and Hopkins, and the lame Englishman in addition."

"But," interposed Bannerman, "your whole plan is based on mere conjecture, Cummins, and you must remember that my ship cannot steam faster than ten knots herself."

"You can come on afterwards," replied Cummins, adding maliciously, for he loved to goad Bannerman, "You won't want an escort, I suppose. Haugh! haugh! haugh!"

"Well, well," Helston interfered, seeing that Bannerman was rapidly losing his temper, "the conjecture may turn out to be incorrect, but it is better to act upon it than upon nothing at all."

"What time can you get your funeral parties on board again, Hunter?"

"Not before noon, sir; their mess-mates would never forgive me if they could not do this."

"When I turn up my toes," said Bannerman snappishly, "I don't mind what happens to me; they can chuck me overboard if they like."

"Well, old fellow," answered Hunter, "when my turn comes, I should like to know that my own men looked after me."

"Very good, gentlemen," concluded Helston. "The Strong Arm will follow the squadron, the remainder of which will leave at daybreak."

Before Hunter went back to the Strong Arm he drew Captain Helston aside and put in a good word for Pattison of the ill-fated "No. 1", but the latter shook his head: "Plucky, of course, he was, but a man in command of a destroyer wants more than pluck—brains and common sense."

"Those two midshipmen, sir, Glover and Foote, behaved with great coolness for youngsters under fire for the first time, and Harrington, who I hear is doing well in hospital, did magnificently.

"Could you manage to send Foote to 'No. 3', sir? The two boys are great chums and he deserves another chance."

"All right, Hunter, I will not forget him; good-night."

Shaking hands with Helston the little council of war broke up, the Commanders going back to their ships, leaving him and Dr. Fox alone. Ping Sang was by this time sound asleep, unable to withstand the influence of his good dinner, so they left him where he sat, and the two old friends had a last pipe together before turning in. Going through the fore-cabin again before saying "good-night" they woke Ping Sang, who was still asleep with his head on the table.

He sat up with a start, and with a yell of triumph banged at the table till the tumblers rattled.

"Ho Ming's butler, the butler himself, I'll have his liver torn out if ever I can get him across to the mainland!"

"Whatever's the matter?" they both asked, thinking his dinner had had too much effect on him.

"He's that brute who betrayed me to the lame Englishman Hamilton. I felt sure that I had somewhere before seen the man who went aboard those junks so hurriedly, and that's the man—Ho Ming's butler, the white-livered scoundrel!"

He was in a frantic rage, and wanted to go ashore immediately and tell Ho Ming; but Captain Helston and Dr. Fox managed finally to calm him, and induced him to go to bed.

CHAPTER XIII

The Avenging of Destroyer "No. 1"

Off in Pursuit—Horribly Sea-sick—A Neck-and-Neck Race—Commence Firing!—Running into Danger—"No. 1" Avenged—The Dinghy Capsizes—Plucky Little Ogston

The Narrative is continued by Mr. Glover

We had had a jolly good day at Sin Ling Island, and Mr. Parker let me go aboard the Hai Yen with the other midshipmen, and a grand time we had scrambling about her. I brought back a scraggy cat—half-witted I think he was, for he walked about with his head on one side in the funniest manner possible, "meaowing" from morning to night. His fur was burnt off one side, but we got some ointment stuff from the medicine chest aft, and with some bandages made him ship-shape—a comical sight he looked, I can tell you.

We didn't get much sleep that night, because, after coming back, we had to fill up with coal again, get in fresh provisions, and then bring our torpedoes over from the Sylvia. It was not till three o'clock that I crept into the Gunner's bunk (he was on watch), and got a couple of hours' sleep.

Then we all unmoored, and whilst I was busy seeing everything secured aft, who should come alongside but Tommy Toddles in one of the Laird's cutters. He was wildly excited, I could see, and, after reporting himself to Mr. Parker, came dancing along the deck and told me that Captain Helston had sent him to join "No. 3". We got his chest out of the boat, but there was very little room for it anywhere, and Mr. Parker, who swore very loudly when he saw it, made him take out the things he wanted most and then sent it back to the Laird.

"You two youngsters will have to share the same chest," he said. But we didn't mind in the least, it was so jolly to have Tommy.

Well, "No. 2" and we shoved off and left the Strong Arm behind, looking very forlorn in the half daylight with her ensign at half-mast. It seemed quite strange, too, without "No. 1", and, when we were running past the Sylvia, we saw Mr. Pattison on the bridge, looking, we thought, very down on his luck.

Directly we were clear of Hong-Kong and were on our proper course, we were sent ahead at full speed, and then had not much time to think of anything else, for there was a big loppy sea and a strong breeze on our starboard bow.

We were doing twenty-five knots and began to get very lively.

I thought that nothing would ever make me sea-sick, but this did, and as I had nothing to do on deck, and neither Tommy nor I wanted to yarn, I crept into the Gunner's bunk again; but the Sub came down a few minutes after to get his oil-skins and found me there. He turned me out, ordered me on deck, and made me take the wheel from the quarter-master and steer.

We were pitching tremendously, our bows burying themselves up to the conning tower. Down, down they would go till I thought, with an awfully empty feeling inside me, that they would never stop. Up they would come again, tons of water pouring off them, and the wave catching her amidships would roll her over to leeward.

Roll! Why, several times I thought she would go right over, and once or twice, as we heeled, I caught hold of the edge of the bridge to steady myself; but Collins had his eye on me all the time, and cursed me pretty hard.

"Keep her into it, you young ass! Don't let her pay off like that," he said. And another time: "If you let her swing more than two points off her course again, I'll give you half a dozen over the ward-room table."

I would do my best, and would put the helm over to steady her, feeling horribly sick and dreadfully miserable, for I was wet through and very cold.

Mr. Parker came up presently in his oil-skins to relieve Collins, smoking a pipe, the very sight of which made me feel green, and after looking cheerily at "No. 2", which was on our beam, and having as bad a time as ourselves, said, with his body jammed securely between the chart-table and the 12-pounder; "We shall break the old girl's back if we keep at this much longer, Collins. Give me a light, old chap; all my matches are wet through."

I devoutly wished she would break her back, and actually looked aft to see if there were any sign of such good fortune.

We slowed down shortly afterwards and fell back to the Laird; but she must have been doing nearly twenty knots, and though she did give us somewhat of a lee, we had a horrible time of it.

Mr. Parker sent me down below, and I had to hold on pretty hard to get safely aft, and I found poor Tommy lying on the after 6-pounder gratings in a worse state even than I was.

This cheered me a little.

The night was almost as bad, and though I was dead tired and wet through to the skin and longed to die, it was impossible to lie in a bunk. I was thrown out of the Sub's bunk twice—you see there were not enough bunks for all, so I had to use the one belonging to the man on watch—and spent most of the night on the deck of the ward-room, clinging to the legs of the ward-room table, till even these gave way at one extra heavy lurch. We went clattering to leeward and woke the Engineer, who kicked me out and wanted to know "What I meant by choosing that time of night to play musical chairs?"

Then I crept up on deck and held on to the after steering screen, really too frightened to go below again, we were rolling so horribly. I tell you all this just to let you know what it is like to be in a destroyer in heavy weather for the first time. People see destroyers dashing in and out of harbour, and think what a jolly life it must be on board; and so it is, too, when once you are used to it, and have learnt that they can stand on their heads one moment, roll till the sea comes half-way up to their funnels the next, and be none the worse for it.

But doesn't it want a lot of hanging on?

Tommy joined me behind the screen presently, and a miserable pair we were, I can tell you, and wished ourselves back again in the Laird, swinging in our hammocks.

In the middle watch Jones, one of our petty officers and the captain of the 12-pounder, came aft to take the log and found us there.

"'Ello, sir! what be you two young gen'lemen a-doing of there?" he said.

We gulped out that we were too scared to go below, and felt better in the fresh air.

He held up his flickering lantern. "Eh! ye be sea-sick, be ye?" he said. "Well, ye do look powerful green, and be as wet as water. Just come along o' me; I'll stow you away out of 'arm."

He made us climb into the dinghy, which was in her crutches amidships, told us to lie down on some coils of rope and old canvas deck-cloths, and covered us with a tarpaulin.

We huddled up together and presently got warm again, and once we were warm and steamy we soon went to sleep.

It did not seem ten minutes later before we were roughly shaken by the shoulders, and there was Jones again.

"Turn out, you young gents; just show a leg there. It's gone seven bells (half-past seven), and it's time ye were rousing yourselves."

"Looking better the noo, ye are," he said, as we scrambled out from under the tarpaulin, feeling stiff all over but the sea-sickness gone; "and 'ere's a drop of hot cocoa for you and a bit of ship's biscuit—make men of you agin."

The sea had gone down considerably and it was broad daylight, the sun shining brightly, and Jones was smiling in a fatherly manner at us, with a couple of ship's biscuits in one hand and a bowl of steaming cocoa in the other.

Well, I should never have believed it possible. A few hours before I thought I should never want to touch a bit of food again, and now we both felt famished, and would have gulped down the lot between us, but Jones made us eat a bit of hard biscuit first, and then sandwich in a little cocoa, and so on till there was no more left of either.

"No, there ain't no more," said Jones, "and the Captain, 'e wants to see you both as soon as you've made yourselves respectable."

He was on the bridge; and after we had brushed each other down we went for'ard, feeling awfully cheap and disreputable.

"Now, you two youngsters must understand," he began. "I'll let you off this time, but don't let me ever catch you shirking your work again, whether you are sea-sick or not. Now, go below (I think I saw a twinkle in his eye) and get some breakfast. The Laird has sighted those pirate destroyers and we are chasing them, but I shall not want either of you for half an hour, so make the best of your time."

"Where are they, sir?" we asked eagerly.

"Right ahead, but we can't see them yet. They've only just sighted them from the Laird."

The range of view from a destroyer is very limited, and it was the Laird's mast-head look-out who had discovered them.

"Couldn't we stay, sir?" we asked, forgetting all about our hunger in the excitement.

"No. Go down below; and you're not to come up again for half an hour."

Even with our excitement we managed to tuck in pretty well when at last the officers' cook did send us down something to eat—some eggs and bacon—from the galley, and we made a loaf of bread and a pot of jam look precious small before we had finished.

We waited impatiently for the thirty minutes to go by and then ran up to the bridge, and by this time could see a cloud of smoke on the horizon ahead of us.

We were tearing along with a vengeance, "No. 2" coming up astern, and the Laird several miles behind us.

A lovely morning it was, for the gale of yesterday had blown itself out, and the sea was now a beautiful glittering green, with a long, quiet swell, crested here and there with "white horses", which every now and then dashed against our bows, leapt into the air, and fell in thousands of sparkling drops over the fo'c'stle.

"No. 2" kept gradually coming up, and eventually, do what we could, she drew level, and neck and neck we raced, not fifty yards apart.

Tommy and I could hardly keep still with excitement, and I felt as if I was tingling all over. Neither Mr. Parker nor Mr. Lang of "No. 2" had as yet been under fire, and now was their chance to avenge poor "No. 1"; and they were going to do it, too, if only the engines did their best.

And splendidly they whizzed round, and we were going even faster than when we chased the destroyer outside Colombo.

We now could see that there was a small merchant steamer with the pirates, almost hidden in smoke, but she seemed to be lagging behind, and presently we saw that the destroyers were steaming away from her.

"They're leaving her to her fate," said Mr. Parker, and half an hour later we caught her up, and went flying past near enough to see one stolid-looking man on her bridge staring solemnly at us. She was only an old tub of a merchantman, very deep in the water, wallowing along like a porpoise, and showing her bottom covered with barnacles and green growth as she rolled.

"She probably has the crew of the Hai Yen aboard," Mr. Parker told us, "and the Laird will catch her in an hour."

We left her as if she had been at anchor, "No. 2" forging ahead a little, whilst Mr. Lang roared insulting remarks to Mr. Parker through the megaphone, and the Sub dangled the end of their grass hawser over the stern and asked if we wanted a tow—the most deadly insult they could give.

We were now coming up to the three pirates, one of which seemed unable to keep up with the others and was falling back rapidly, whilst the other two, like huge porpoises, went rushing on.

By this time we had gone to quarters, and were standing by our guns. Tommy had to do doggy to Mr. Parker and run messages; I had to look after the for'ard 6-pounders, one on each side under the bridge.

The men took off their boots so that they could grip the deck more firmly with their bare feet, stripped off their jumpers, and stood to their guns, eagerly waiting, with rows of cartridges in the racks behind them.

Down where I was, with "No. 2" right ahead, I could not see the pirates, but almost immediately the signalman above me shouted: "They've fired, sir!" and in the twinkling of a second a shell, missing "No. 2", fell into the water close under our bows, and, bursting, covered one gun's crew with spray.

"Me mither told me niver to git wet," said the funny man of the crew, ruefully shaking himself.

"Put your big feet up, then, and keep it off, Bill," shouted one, and "Take off your 'at, 'twill make yer 'air grow", shouted another.

"Shall we load, sir?" asked the Captain of the gun, a little grey-eyed man named Clarke.

I told him to wait for orders, and so we hung on, and as plenty more shells came whistling past, the men became rather restless, the ammunition numbers picking up the cartridges and waiting for the signal to load.

The order seemed a tremendously long time coming, but "No. 2", sheering across our bows to port, gave us a good view of the pirate, and commenced firing herself.

At last Tommy, putting his head over the bridge screen, shouted down; "Stand by!" "Close up!" I yelled to the two guns' crews, and the captains of the guns, with their chin-stays gripped between their teeth, jumped to their shoulder-pieces, pressing well home, glued their eyes to the sights, and, with feet wide apart, stood ready, keeping their sights on the destroyer.

Down went the breech-blocks with a snap, in rattled the cartridges, up went the blocks again, and "Ready!" yelled the breech numbers.

"Range 1500 yards!" yelled Tommy from the bridge overhead in a funny, squeaky, excited voice, and directly afterwards I heard Mr. Parker give the order "Commence!" to Jones of the 12-pounder gun.

Tommy passed the order down to us, and with a whoop of joy the men jumped to their guns.

My aunt, what a row there was!

Destroyer "No. 2" was now well ahead of us, and as she gradually drew abreast of the pirate destroyer she got four guns to bear—the 12-pounder on the bridge, the 6-pounder just beneath it on the starboard side, the 6-pounder on the beam amidships, and the 6-pounder on the platform aft.

We could see the fierce little spurts of flames darting out, and thought she hit the pirate several times.

We too were firing very fast, and were trying to rake her stern, hoping to be able to knock away some of her rudder gear.

The pirate was dividing her attention between us, but was shooting very wildly and could not touch us; and no wonder, for presently "No. 2" had even forged ahead of her, and we could every now and then see shells bursting against her funnels and cowls and under her bridge. We all yelled with delight.

Her shooting became very feeble, and we could see the guns' crews trying to sneak away down below; but a big man, with a great black beard, and dressed as an officer, kept on driving them back, exposing himself with great bravery.

It was wonderful that he was not hit, and really, if we had been superstitious we should have thought that he bore a charmed life. But now "No. 2" had forged right ahead and was settling down after the other two destroyers, leaving this one entirely to us.

Was not that a gentlemanly thing for Mr. Lang to do?

Now that they were no longer under a cross fire, the pirates took courage again, and their shells began whistling past us in dozens. We did work hard at our guns, I can tell you, and hit her many times, but never seemed able to reach a vital spot, for we were plunging and shaking into the long swell, and it was awfully difficult to keep our sights steady.

Just then there was a faint cheer from the pirate, and we could see those still left on deck waving their arms and pointing ahead.

Tommy came jumping down the ladder in a tremendous state of excitement.

"The island of Hong Lu is in sight," he said, "and a cruiser is coming out to their rescue. Mr. Parker says we can't possibly carry on for more than ten minutes longer, and he's going to steer in more closely. You have to fire at her water-line between her funnels and try and disable her boilers."

All our guns were turned on this part, and we gradually edged in till we were not fifty yards away; but encouraged to renewed exertions by the chance of a rescue, they fired still more vigorously, and at that distance could not help hitting us. One shell bursting nearly amidships, wounded two men standing there, another pierced our foremost funnel, tearing a great rent in it, and a third burst against the conning tower, within ten feet of where I was standing, and though it stunned us for the moment, smothered us with smoke, and little pieces of it went flying round, no one was hit.

That was about their last shot, for they could take no more punishment. Ten or twelve had already been knocked over, and we could see them lying in huddled heaps on the deck. The rest took shelter below, crowding down the small hatchways, till we could see no one except the big officer.

"That cruiser is getting jolly close," said Tommy, who had been sent down to see what damage that last shell had done, "and 'No. 2' is coming back as fast as she can."

I could just see the big cruiser coming along under a dense cloud of smoke, not more than 6000 yards off, firing at "No. 2" as she flew back towards us.

I thought that Mr. Lang had had enough of it and was running away, and wondered how Mr. Parker dare carry on, but not a bit of it. Round came "No. 2", and circling about our stern, she stationed herself just astern of the pirate destroyer, on her other quarter, plugging at her for all she was worth, and then I saw that we were both safe for the next few minutes. You see we were all three in a bunch, and the cruiser could not fire without risk of hitting her own destroyer.

We ran like this, firing into her as hard as we could—we on one side, "No. 2" on the other—and now our shooting began to take effect. The pirate began to slacken speed; we could see wide rents in her side and water pouring in.

"Keep at it, men, for another minute," shouted Mr. Parker, and we poured in a regular stream of shells.

One or two of these just did the trick (we never found out which fired it, but Jones claimed it for his 12-pounder, and "No. 2" was equally certain it was her shot), for suddenly a great volume of smoke and steam rushed up from her deck, her mast and foremost funnel went over the side, and her deck opened in a great gap, as if she had broken her back.

We gave a great cheer, and heard "No. 2" cheering wildly too.

It was just about time, for the cruiser was now not two thousand yards off, and began blazing at us, apparently not caring whether she hit her own destroyer or not, now that she could not possibly get away.

One shell fell into the water just between us, and went ricocheting away with a loud hissing noise.

We had to leave her, and quickly too; so wheeling round we steered to pick up the Laird again, which now was out of sight, firing a parting broadside, which made Mr. Parker sing out, "Cease firing, men, cease firing; she's had enough, she's sinking!"

Didn't the cruiser give it to us then! Big shot came pitching all round us with the noise of an express train, and little ones went past with a "flipping" sound. How it was we were never hit I cannot imagine to this day, for she was really making splendid practice in that first five minutes, and I don't think I have ever felt in so much of a funk since, for, you see, if but one of those big shells had come aboard, it would have been death for everybody, and we should have sunk before we could have said "Jack Robinson".

But our great speed soon took us out of accurate range, and then we were practically safe, except from any chance shot.

The cruiser must have seen the Laird before we did, for she soon gave up the chase and left us alone; and mighty glad we were, too, I can tell you, and went to "clean guns" and cleared up the deck. It was littered with empty cartridge cases, in spite of many which had rolled or been thrown overboard. The two wounded men had been attended to long before this, but there was nothing very serious wrong with them, just flesh wounds from small bits of shell.

Looking back we saw that the other two destroyers had returned, and were standing by the one we had crippled; but they could not save her, for suddenly she turned turtle and disappeared, our men breaking out into cheers again.

"I hope they managed to save that big chap," Tommy said, and Mr. Parker, hearing him, added, "I hope so too; I should jolly well like to shake hands with that man."

We ran back safely to the Laird, and found her standing by the little merchant steamer, which was rolling heavily in the long swell, had a great list to port, and was apparently sinking.

We had heard no guns fired, so could not make out quite what had happened; but the Laird had evidently boarded the steamer, for, as we came in sight of her, she was hoisting her two life-boats (cutters), and it turned out that directly she had heard the report of heavy guns in our direction, she had recalled the boats which she had sent across and was coming to our rescue, judging that we had been attacked by something bigger than a destroyer.

We went as near the Laird as was safe, and sent across the two wounded men, much against their will, I must say, for they thought that once they were sent to the Laird they would never get a chance of rejoining "No. 3", and everyone expected that the destroyers would see most of the fighting.

Tommy took them over in the whaler, and as he got alongside the Laird's after accommodation-ladder, her crew came crowding to the side and gave three cheers, for by this time they had heard that we had sunk one of the pirates.

Whilst Tommy was away the little steamer gave one or two heavy lurches to port, lifted her bows out of the water, just as if she had been alive, and was struggling to keep her head up, and then sank.

Poor little thing! She had probably been thumping her way up and down the Chinese coast for years till she had fallen into the hands of the pirates, and you could not help feeling sorry for her.

By this time the Laird had lowered her boats again, and they pulled over to where we could see a lot of heads bobbing about in the water, and were evidently trying to save some of the struggling wretches.

A signal was semaphored across to us, and we had to get out our dinghy and go to their assistance as well. I went in charge with a volunteer crew, consisting of Jones, our petty officer, and another man, and hard work it was in that clumsy boat, nearly as broad as she was long, to pull across to where the steamer had sunk.

We could do no good either, for the Chinese would not let us save them, and it was dangerous work in that cranky boat getting hold of them with a boat-hook and trying to haul them over the gunwale against their will. They probably thought that we should torture them, and preferred a quick death by drowning to mutilation, of which a Chinaman has a terrible dread.

One we had nearly dragged on board, and all three of us were tugging at him, when a wave lopped in over the gunwale. We filled with water, and before we knew what had happened we were all struggling in the water, still gripping hold of the wretched Chinaman.

"Let the brute go!" I shouted, as soon as I got my head above water, and we swam to the dinghy and clung on to her keel. It was a jolly uncomfortable position, for the water was very cold, and the waves kept washing over us, and it was mighty hard work clinging to that three inches of wood keel.

With all my clothes on, and my boots too, I seemed to weigh a ton, and but for Jones catching hold of me every now and then whenever a wave came along I should have been washed away.

We were not left there long, though, for one of the Laird's cutters was quite close and came alongside, dropping down from wind'ard, Mellins—good old Mellins—with a grin of delight, standing up in the stern and taking care that we were not struck by the oars.

They hauled us aboard, and then we got hold of the dinghy's painter and towed her back to "No. 3". Mellins, being a chum of mine, and an awfully good chap, first hunted round and fished all her bottom boards and her sculls and boat-hook out of the water, for I dare not go back without them, because Mr. Parker would have been so angry.

We all were horribly cold by the time we scrambled up the side of "No. 3", and, never thinking of anything else except to change into dry things, I was just going to dive down below, when Mr. Parker hallooed out to me; "Hoist your boat immediately, you young idiot! I'll teach you to capsize my dinghy!"

We got it inboard presently, working at the little derrick winch till we were almost warm again, and then I ran down to Mr. Parker's cabin to report "all correct". "He really ought to be rather pleased", I thought, for we had lost none of the boat's gear; but I had forgotten that I was still dripping with water, and wherever I stood a puddle of water formed immediately.

Mr. Parker, seeing the mess I was making on his cabin deck, flew into a great rage, and ordered me to go on deck, take all my things off, and then report to him. "What the dickens do you mean by making my cabin in such a state?"

It didn't take a minute to slip off all my sloppy clothes, and I went down again with nothing on but my cap, which somehow or other had stuck on my head all the time I was in the water.

"You've lost everything out of her, I suppose?" he said angrily, though he seemed rather amused at my appearance. "Here I send you away to pick up people, and you have the cheek to capsize my boat and make yourself and 'No. 3' a laughing-stock!"

"I'm very sorry, sir," I told him, "but they did struggle so, and we didn't lose anything out of her, sir, not even her stern grating; we picked them all up."