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.