"You can all take a sleep, my lads; Mr Herrick and I will keep watch."
"Thankye, sir, thankye," came in a low murmur, and I went forward to
keep a look-out there; but not a man lay down, they all crouched
together, chewing their tobacco, waiting; while Ching knelt by the bows,
his elbows on the gunwale, his chin resting upon his hands, apparently
gazing up the river, but so still that I felt he must be asleep, and at
last startled him by asking the question whether he was.
"No; too much head busy go sleep. Want findee allee pilate, show Mr
Blooke no like pilate. Velly 'flaid all gone."
How the rest of that night went by, I can hardly tell. We seemed to be
for hours and hours without end tacking to and fro, now going up the
river two or three miles, then dropping down with the tide, and always
zig-zagging so as to cover as much ground as possible. The night
lengthened as if it would never end; but, like all tedious times of the
kind, it dragged its weary course by, till, to my utter astonishment,
when it did come, a faint light dawned away over the sea beyond the
mouth of the river, just when we were about a mile below the city.
That pale light gradually broadened, and shed its ghastly chilly beams
over the sea, making all look unreal and depressing, and showed the
faces of our crew, sitting crouched in the bottom of the boat, silent
but quite wide-awake.
Then all started as if suddenly electrified, for Ching uttered a low
cry, and stood up, pointing right away east.
"What is it?" I said.
"Two pilate junk."
We all saw them at the same time, and with a miserable feeling of
despondency, for there was no hiding the fact. The river was wide, and
while we were close under one bank they had glided silently down under
the other, and were far beyond our reach.