A SECRET MISSION--KIDNAPPED!--THE SCHOONER--THE ASSASSIN
As I did not wish my chief to know whither I was bound, I went ashore
first, and strolled about in the cooler hour of the evening, and even
penetrated into the queer Chinese slums where little drums of the
peddlers, and the chatter and smells and heat, soon drove me back to
the parade, away from the houses of the natives. Their stupid faces,
so smooth and greasy-looking, their odd dress, long pigtails (of the
men), the coarse, rolled hair, pinned in masses (of the females), both
sexes being costumed nearly alike, quite put me off. Even some
experience of the country has not impressed me in favour of the native
of China.
So I returned to the water, and calling a "sampan" got the number of
the man taken--for many people have been "missed" from a Chinese boat
at evening--and told my man to propel me across the harbour towards
Kow-loon. This is in China, where the change of the scenery is marked
and wild; but I did not come for the prospect, I wanted to search the
further side of the harbour, which is about a mile across and ten
square miles in extent.
If the Coreans had an idea of secrecy, I imagined they would rather
seek a small sailing vessel--perhaps a junk rather than a steamer,
though, of course, the latter would be more speedy, and more certain if
a storm arose. But they would sail by the north channel, so I made for
the north point, the extremity of the peninsula of Kow-loon, which is
under British authority by lease.
I passed amid the ships of all kinds, large and small, which crowd the
harbour; boat-houses (literally dwelling-houses) of the natives who at
Hong Kong, as at Canton and Shanghai, and other places, live in the
wherries in aggregate thousands. Small and limited is the
accommodation, truly, when a family, with a pig, and perhaps ducks,
live on board. The chances are in favour of drowning; but the _male_
children are tied to the gunwale; the girls are let to go as they
please, and if they disappear--it is "only a girl"! There is little
care for life in China--of the natives, I mean--and least of all for
female children.
The evening was drawing in, and I had not found any vessel on which I
recognised the so-called "Japs." There were hundreds of ships of all
sorts, and I was pleased to hear a hail in English from a clipper
schooner as I was passing in the dusk.
I pulled alongside the vessel whence the "hail" had come, and, when
close aboard, I recognised the speaker as a friend who had assisted me
once or twice in the past when I had been unhappy and in need. His
name was Eagan.
Glancing along the trim and natty decks of the schooner, I gained the
gangway. The little ship was ready to put to sea, the anchor was
already weighed, and the schooner was only fast to a buoy, for the
breeze was light. I recognised the craft as a former smuggling vessel,
and named _Harada_ by her late owner. She traded in "natives" up the
coast, and to Formosa, the Pescadores, and as far as Shanghai, or even
farther north.
"Hallo! back again?" I cried, as I clasped Eagan's hand.
"Why, certainly," he replied; "think I'd scooted? What are _you_
prowling about for?"
"Simple curiosity," I said. "Thanks, yes, I'll have a 'peg," I added,
as he indicated refreshment by a nod in the direction of the cabin.
"A tidy berth this," I continued. "Suits you, anyway."
"Yes, not badly. What's your _simple curiosity_ led you to? I can
estimate the curiosity, but I don't see where the simplicity comes in."
"Really?" I asked, as I watched him mixing a soothing draught.
"No, really. What's your spot? What's your little game?"
"My game! I'm just sculling around--that's all."
"By accident. One of your freaks, o' course! Still acting on the
_Feng Shui_, I suppose?"
"Yes; but confirmed now--second."
"Ah! Going north yet?"
"Presently--I mean by and by. When do _you_ sail again?"
"When I receive sailin' orders. Maybe to-morrow--maybe never."
"Come, Eagan, you're mysterious, for _you_! Your anchor's a-peak, and
you are loosing sails. You are just off. What's the game? Whither
bound--honour bright?"
He paused and looked at his tumbler, then raised it and looked at the
lamp through the liquid the glass contained. He slowly brought his
eyes back upon mine, and said--
"Honour it is! Chemulpo perhaps--Shanghai certain."
"Oh!" I exclaimed. "I say, Eagan, what's your _Jap_ up to?" He
started and stared at me, then he replied--
"I say, Jule, what's your _Chinese_ up to?"
"_Rats_," I replied. "What's the coil _here_?"
"_Snakes_," he retorted. "What's your notion?"
He suspected me; and I fancied that I had by accident hit upon the
Coreans' vessel, or of the vessel they had chartered, perhaps.
I kept staring at the skipper; he was silently staring at me. Neither
would say the word he was anxious to say. A pause ensued.
"Well," I said at length, "I must be off. No more, thanks. 'Pegs' are
likely to upset one in the dark; anyway, they don't steady one."
"P'raps not," he replied. "Well, so-long, mate; we'll meet sometimes,
I hope."
"Certain! I see your sails are loosed, Eagan. I'd better be going.
Ta-ta!"
"Good-night. Hallo! where's your boat?"
I rushed to the side. My sampan and the boatman had disappeared.
"Hang it! I say, skipper, send me ashore, please," I cried anxiously.
"We may sail by daybreak."
"I'm just as sorry as sin, but I can't. My dinghy's ashore, and I've
no time to man another. I guess you'll have to wait a while."
"What do you mean? Remain here? I can't."
"Guess ye must, Jule boy, till morning. Say, there's a signal. That's
my boss comin' alongside. Show lights!" he called out. "Gangway!"
Three or four men, dark-featured fellows, Chinese apparently, came
abaft, and a European mate came up from the cabin somewhere.
I saw a light flashing from a boat which quickly came alongside the
schooner. I walked to the counter and watched it. The occupants were
two short men in the stern, two natives in the bow, and two sailors
rowing.
The lanterns gleamed as the men stepped on deck from the stern-sheets
of the boat. They were wrapped up, but I knew one of them. He was the
quasi-Japanese officer whom my captain had spoken with. These men were
escaping perhaps--whither? What plans had they been maturing--what
plots had they been framing in British territory?
The foremost arrival did not notice me, the second did,--he I did not
know at all,--but neither made any remark to me. The officer, as I may
term him, turned to Eagan, and said in English, clearly--
"Stand out at once, please. Make for Shanghai direct."
Eagan nodded merely, and said, "All right, boss." Then he gave a few
orders which the mate repeated, and in five minutes the schooner was
passing out by the north channel.
"Eagan," I said, "where are you taking me? I _must_ join my ship."
He shook his head, and went to the wheel himself, leaving me raging. I
followed him.
"Do you hear?" I cried. "This is piracy. I'll give the alarm if you
do not put me ashore. Hail a boat!"
"Just lie low, Jule. Wait till we reach Shanghai, you'll find the
steamer there, I expect, and if not you can wire; so be easy, boy."
"I'll make a row for this!" I cried, feeling enraged with him.
"If ye do I'll put ye overboard. The crew are Chinese, and no one will
care except me. So, keep still, and I'll land you safely up at
Shanghai; best so, I tell ye."
"Then you are hired to carry these fellows; I see. There is something
wrong here, Eagan, and you shouldn't do it."
"It's no business of mine, lad. I'm paid for the passage, and when
they land it's finished. Your old screw will be in Shanghai before us.
There's nothing wrong in the case so far as I see _yet_; I'll tell you
more in a while. Go and have some supper."
I was very much annoyed by this departure, and began to grumble at the
skipper; he only laughed at first, and then got angry in his turn,
until the mate came aft and dragged me below, where we supped in amity.
"Take no notice of anything," said my new friend; "but, 'tween you and
me, there's going to be trouble about this. For one of these chaps has
been induced by the other to clear out of Victoria and to go to
Shanghai. I can understand some of the lingo, and it's plain to me
that the man named Oh Sing, or Kim,--I can't quite catch it,--is rather
frightened of the boss, whose name is Lung. The Lung man won't let him
out of his sight, and if a chance comes I suspect Mr. Lung will punish
the other fellow."
"What's his object, then?" I asked.
"Can't say. Eagan is suspicious, too, of these Coreans. One fellow is
evidently nervous, and keeps his Japanese servant near him all the
time. The captain don't want any fuss on board this ship, you
understand."
"Well, I shall say nothing. We shan't be long in reaching Shanghai,
and there I can quit, eh?"
"Certainly--why yes, of course. Now, when you're finished, we shall go
on deck. The captain will want to go down then, and you shall watch
with me if you like. Keep your eyes skinned."
"You scent danger then?"
"In two ways. The glass is falling; that, after such a jumpy time as
we've had, means tempest. You know that?"
I nodded, and he proceeded.
"Then, again, we must never leave these passengers to themselves,
unless the weather's very bad, because there'll be trouble. If the
weather's bad they'll all be sick, and near dead anyway. So let us
pray for typhoon, mister."
"I shall not," was my reply. "When you see the barometer waltzing down
to twenty-eight degrees or so you'll pray for something more
interesting to yourself! Keep an eye upon the Coreans by all means,
but watch the glass whatever you do."
We were strolling up and down the weather-side of the deck. The wind
was off shore, and a bit abaft the beam. As we cleared the Channel we
spun along the ripples, sending the "phosphorus" flying around the
stern, and light-up the forepart to the chains. The sky was perfectly
clear, and the mate hoped to reach Formosa quickly with such a breeze.
We were still strolling at four bells, ten o'clock, and then I felt
inclined to turn in somewhere.
"Take my bunk in the inner cabin. If you hear anything, just let me or
the skipper know. Those fellows have a game on if I am not mistaken;
but no 'revenge' in this ship, I say."
He nodded at me significantly in the soft light by the binnacle. The
steersman was a Lascar. The crew was composed of a variety of natives;
but in the cold weather of the northern sea the Lascars were as
dead--and died too.
"Good-night," I said. "I'll find my way."
I stepped softly down the stairs, and passed through the "saloon" or
eating-cabin. I found the berth close by, and tumbled in by the dim
light of a swinging candle-lamp of the spring-up pattern, as we used to
call it. The company in the saloon had dispersed; the captain had
quitted it some time before, and the two Coreans and the Japanese
servant, who stuck to Oh Sing, parted. The man Lung, I fancied,
disposed himself in the saloon. The other came and looked at me, and
perceiving that I did not stir, he, after a pause, _crawled_ out, hands
and knees, on the floor, and vanished in the darkness outside the berth.
The wind was rising, the sea was following suit. I slept lightly as
usual, when I was awakened by a breathing close to my face. I opened
my eyes quickly, and started up.
A knife flashed in my face. I seized it, and shouted, "Help!"
At the moment I cried out I sprang up. Someone at the same time
extinguished the already expiring lamp, and as I leaped upon the
deck-floor I distinctly heard _something_ retiring. I called again,
and the captain came down into the dark and silent saloon.
"What's the matter?" he asked. "Is that you, Mr. Julius? Had a bad
dream, I reckon, eh? What are you doing here, anyway?"
He turned a ship's lantern upon my scared countenance as he was
speaking.
"No; someone came into the berth and flashed a knife in my eyes. If I
had not called out I would have been stabbed."
"Nonsense, nonsense," said the captain, who still blinked the light
upon my alarmed looks. "There are no murderers here, lad. But tell me
how you came in here; this berth belongs to the passengers."
"The mate told me I would find a bunk in his berth."
"Likely; but this isn't his. This belongs to one of my passengers--to
Mr. Oh Sing."
"To him!" I exclaimed, recalling the hints of the mate. "Then perhaps
somebody intended to stab _him_!"
The skipper looked at me steadily for quite half a minute, without
speaking. Then he replied--
"Better come on deck, sonny; you'll see no knives there, and may bear a
hand for me. I think, somehow, a storm is coming up. Look slippy
now," he said, as he went to examine the other "rooms" astern.
I looked as slippy as possible, but "look sleepy" was just then the
more correct expression, as I ascended the stairs to the deck. The
breezy, somewhat cool, night soon dissipated the feelings of sloth
which remained in my eyes, and I was able to grasp the aspects of the
surroundings, which were, after all, pleasanter than the revealed
dangers of the cabin.
The mate was forward, and I took up my position by the wheel so as to
look well ahead and around. There was a low grating astern, on that I
stood and cast my eyes over the sails.
The schooner was slipping away north-east, the wind still just a little
abaft the beam, and filling all our sails. The _Harada_ was a topsail
schooner--that is, she carried small square sails aloft on the
foremast, and as I reflected, with a fast-beating heart, upon the very
narrow escape I had had below, my glance was fixed upon the topsail,
which seemed pulling hard at intervals. Then the wind would slacken
again, the cloths would remain at their former tension, and all well.
The sky was beautifully blue-black and clear, and I calculated that we
should reach Shanghai in about six days, supposing no bad weather
intervened. I felt very happy and comfortable there, in command,
nominally, of the vessel, though I wondered why the skipper remained
below.
After a while I became convinced that the breeze was increasing, and
more than that, in a jerky, uncertain manner which I did not like. We
had plenty of sail on the vessel, jib, stayforesail, topsail, fore and
aft foresail, and mainsail. I fancied we ought to furl the topsail at
anyrate, and I called the captain through the skylight.
Eagan came up smartly, and after a comprehensive look around, said--
"Mr. Julius, just call the hands, will you? Watch will reduce sail,"
he cried. "Be smart, lads!"
The watch, who had been resting in the "shade" of the bulwarks, at once
arose at the summons, and I ran forward to call all hands, but the mate
anticipated me and turned the men up.
"Come, Mr. Julius, will you lead the men aloft for me? I must get the
mainsail stowed and the jib down."
"Aloft, boys!" I exclaimed, and was in a moment leading the hands up
the rigging. "Crikey," it did blow up there then! All of a sudden, as
it seemed, the wind increased, and when we attempted to secure the sail
it flapped and banged us about so that it was with great difficulty we
even commenced to secure it. But the six skilful hands managed it, and
by holding on "by our eyelids" and "legs and necks" we got the square
topsail secured to the yard in fair style. Luckily the true tempest
had not then broken, and we got the yard down.
Then came the struggle. Sail after sail was reduced as fast as
possible, and came down rapidly, racing the mercury in the tube which
was leaping lower and lower. All hands were on deck except the
passengers, and the sea came drifting in foam and spray across the
ship. The _Harada_ dashed into the short seas, which rose landward, as
if ejected by big hands underneath with no roller-force; but the wind
made noise enough in the shrouds and cordage to deafen us, and even the
boats slapped and almost danced adrift from the davits, and filled with
rain-water.
I thought we would escape easily, but Eagan roared in my ear that this
was the beginning. He was right. The furious blast seized the sturdy
little ship at one moment, and snapping some ropes like whipcord, sent
them flying around our heads and beyond. The schooner dipped and
dipped, lower and lower; strake after strake disappeared, until the
planks seemed to become lost, and the vessel to be settling beam under.
The passengers set up a horrible scream, they were too greatly alarmed
to fight, no doubt; and even the best of us thought of the great and
solemn inevitable end.
All this time the sea was most terrible, the wind and darkness were
awful, the foam simply a white mist around us. The vessel suddenly
rose up again, was again depressed, again lifted as the squall
subsided; and after four such experiences, each one bringing our masts
down to the waves, and the last one smashing the mizzen-topmast short
at the cap, we floated more steadily. The wind changed, smote us again
on the starboard quarter, after blowing in a circle for a couple of
hours, and we rested on a trembling sea, drenched with spray and rain,
and dishevelled.
Most fortunately our masts stood the strain, and our ballast did not
shift. Had the latter given way we must have been swamped, or we must
have cut away the masts. However, we pulled through the cyclone, or
"typhoon" as they call it out there, and in seven days we ran into the
river at Shanghai not much the worse after all, though with a jury
topmast and spliced rigging.