About this time there hung a dark cloud over the pagoda in Hong-Kong.
Even the bright eyes of Molly Machowl could not pierce through this
cloud. Rooney himself had lost much of his hopeful disposition. As for
Edgar Berrington, Joe Baldwin, and David Maxwell, they were silently
depressed, for adversity had crushed them very severely of late.
Immediately after their losses, as already detailed or referred to,
stormy weather had for several weeks prevented them from resuming
operations at the wreck, and when at last they succeeded in reaching the
old locality, they found themselves so closely watched by shore boats
that the impossibility of their being able to keep anything they should
bring up became obvious. They were forced, therefore, to give up the
idea of making further attempts.
"It's too bad," growled Maxwell one morning at breakfast, "that all our
trouble and expense should end in nothin'--or next to nothin'."
"Come, Maxwell," said Edgar, "don't say `nothing.' It is true we lost
our first great find that luckless night when we left it with Wilson,
but our second haul is safe, and though it amounts only to eight
thousand pounds sterling, that after all is not to be sneezed at by men
in our circumstances."
"Make not haste to be rich," muttered Joe Baldwin in an undertone.
"_Did_ we make haste to be rich?" asked Edgar, smiling. "It seems to me
that we set about it in a cool, quiet, business-like way."
"Humph, that's true, but we got uncommon keen over it--somethin' like
what gamblers do."
"Our over-keenness," returned Edgar, "was not right, perhaps, but our
course of action was quite legitimate--for it is a good turn done not
only to ourselves but to the world when we save property; and the salvor
of property--who necessarily risks so much--is surely worthy of a good
reward in kind."
"Troth, an' that's true," said Rooney, with a wry grin, "I had quite
made up me mind to a carridge and four with Molly astore sittin' in
silks an' satins inside."
"Molly would much rather sit in cotton," said the lady referred to, as
she presided at the breakfast-table; "have another cup, Rooney, an'
don't be talking nonsense."
"But it does seem hard," continued Maxwell in his growling voice, "after
all our trouble in thin venture, to be obliged to take to divin' at mere
harbour-works in Eastern waters, just to keep body and soul together."
"Never mind, boy," exclaimed Rooney with a successful effort at
heartiness, "it won't last long--it's only till we get a suitable chance
of a ship to take us an' our small fortins back to ould Ireland--or
England, if ye prefer it--though it's my own opinion that England is
only an Irish colony. Never say die. Sure we've seen a dale of life,
too, in them parts. Come, I'll give ye a sintiment, an' we'll drink it
in tay--"
Before the hopeful Irishman could give the sentiment, he was interrupted
by the sudden opening of the door and the abrupt entrance of a Chinaman,
who looked at the breakfast party with keen interest and some anxiety.
"If it's your grandmother you're lookin' for," said Rooney, "she don't
live here, young man."
Paying no attention to this pleasantry, the Chinaman closed the door
with an air of mystery, and, going up to Edgar, looked him inquiringly
in the face, as he said interrogatively:--
"I's pleeceman. You's Eggirbringting?"
"Not a bad attempt," exclaimed Edgar, with a laugh. "I suppose _that_
is my name translated into Chinese."
"Took me muchee--long--time for learn him from young missee," said the
Chinaman with a hurt look.
At the mention of a young lady Edgar's amused look changed into one of
anxiety, for he had, through an English acquaintance in the port, become
aware not only of Mr Hazlit's failure, but of his sudden departure for
England with his daughter and Miss Pritty, and a vague suspicion of bad
news flashed upon him.
"You bring a message, I see?" he said, rising and speaking hurriedly.
"Let me hear it. Quick."
Thus invoked, the Chinaman spoke so quickly and in such a miraculous
jumble of bad English, that Edgar could not comprehend him at all;--only
one thing he felt quite sure of, namely, that his anxiety was well
found.
"Ho! Chok-foo!" he shouted.
The domestic entered, and to him the Chinaman delivered his message,
which was to the following effect:--
He was a native policeman who had been captured on the coast when in
discharge of his duties. Many others had been taken by the same pirates
at different times, and among them an English gentleman named Hazlit,
with his daughter and a lady friend. These latter had been spared,
probably with a view to ransom, at the time the crew of their vessel was
massacred, and were at that moment in one of the strongholds belonging
to the pirates, up one of the intricate rivers on the coast of Borneo.
He, the policeman, having resolved to make his escape, and being, in
virtue of his wise, wily, and constabular nature, well able to do so,
had mentioned the circumstance to the young lady, and, under promise of
a handsome reward, had agreed to travel and voyage, night and day, by
boat or vessel, as fortune should favour him, in order to convey
immediate intelligence of these facts to a youth named "Eggirbringting,"
whom the young lady described as being very tall and stout, and
extremely handsome.
It may easily be imagined with what mingled feelings of anxiety and
impatience the "tall, stout, and extremely handsome young man" listened
to this narrative as it was volubly delivered by the "pleeceman" and
slowly translated by Chok-foo.
When at last he was fairly in possession of all that the messenger had
to relate, Edgar paced up and down the room for a few seconds with rapid
strides.
"We must go into action at once, sir," suggested Joe Baldwin.
"Of course, of course, but _how_? That's the point," exclaimed Edgar,
with a look of impatient vexation. "Borneo is a long way off. There
are no steamers running regularly to it that I know of. However, it's
of no use talking; let's go at once and make inquiry. I'll go see our
consul--perhaps--"
"P'lhaps," interrupted the messenger, "p'lhaps the pleeceman can
talkee."
"If he can, let him speak," cried Edgar, with impatience.
"Pleece he nevir too muchee quick," returned the man, coolly. "We knows
what we's can do. Hai, yach!"
Edgar sat down with a sharp sigh of discontent, and waited for more.
"Well?"
"Well," repeated the policeman, "there be steam-boat here now--go for
Borneo quick."
"At once!" cried Edgar, starting up and seizing his hat, "why did you
not--"
"Sh! Keepee cool, you no 'casion makes so fashion," interrupted the
policeman, who thereupon went on to explain that on his arrival in
Hong-Kong he had gone at once to head-quarters, before delivering his
message to Edgar, in order to make himself master of all the news about
town that was worth knowing, or likely in any way to advance the
interest of those whom he sought to serve. Among other things he had
learned the important fact that, two days before his arrival, a small
gun-boat, belonging to a certain Rajah of Borneo, and commanded by a
certain Scotchman, and employed for the express purpose of hunting up
and rooting out the pirates of the China seas, had put in to the port
for repairs. He had hurried down to the gun-boat in time to prevent her
departure, had told his story, and had just come from her to say that
her captain would like much to see Mr Berrington.
On hearing this, Edgar again started up and eagerly ordered the native
policeman to guide him to the gun-boat in question without another
moment's delay. He was followed, of course, by his male companions, who
were nearly as much interested in the matter as himself. They were soon
on the deck of the gun-boat.
It was a neat trim screw-steamer of small size, 180 tons burthen, and
manned by about sixty Malays and a few Englishmen. Everything on board
was as bright and orderly as if it had been a British man-of-war. Her
commander received the visitors on the quarter-deck. He looked like one
who was eminently well qualified to hunt up, run down, cut out, or in
any other mode make away with pirates. There was much of the
bull-terrier in him--solid, broad, short, large-chested--no doubt also
large-hearted--active, in the prime of life, with short black curly
hair, a short black beard and moustache, a square chin, a pleasant
smile, a prominent nose, and an eagle eye. Indeed he might himself have
made a splendid chief of the very race against which he waged "war to
the knife."
"Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr Berrington," said the captain,
holding out his hand. "The native policeman has told me all about your
friends--I understand them to be such?"
"Yes--intimate friends."
"Well, this business is quite in my way. I shall be glad to take you
with me. But who are these?" he added, looking at Edgar's companions.
"They are comrades, and might do good service if you will allow them to
volunteer."
"My crew is complete," said the captain, doubtfully, "except, indeed,
that my chief engineer is just dead, but none of your men look as if
they could fill his shoes."
"That is true, but I can fill them myself," said Edgar, eagerly.
"Indeed!"
"Yes, I am an engineer by profession; my comrades are professional
divers. We have been engaged on a wreck here for some time past."
"Good," said the captain; "are your dresses and apparatus at hand?"
"Some of them are."
"Then bring them aboard at once. I leave in an hour. Just bring what
you have handy. Lose no time. I will take your men also. They may be
of use."
Within an hour after the foregoing conversation Molly Machowl was left
disconsolate in the pagoda under the care of Chok-foo, while the Rajah's
gun-boat was steaming out to sea with Edgar, Baldwin, Rooney, Maxwell,
and Ram-stam added to her warlike crew.