Blue Jackets Part 15

"I daresay they did," I replied thoughtfully, "for I did see one of the lockers all scorched and burned just by the deck. Yes, it all seemed to come to me, and I felt as if I could see all the fighting, with the Chinamen hacking and chopping at them with their long swords, the same as those brutes did at us; and all those poor fellows, who were quietly going about their business, homeward bound with their cargo, must have had friends, wives or mothers or children; and it gets horrible when you think of how they must have been in despair, knowing that those wretches would have no mercy on them."

"Yes, but how it must have made 'em fight," cried Smith. "I think I could have done something at a time like that."

"Yes, it would make any fellow fight; even you, Gnat."

"I suppose so," I said, "for it made me feel as if there wasn't any room in the world for such people."

"There ain't," said Barkins. "Oh, if our chaps could only get a good go at 'em!"

"And then I felt," I went on, "as if it couldn't all be real, and that it was impossible that there could be such wretches on the face of the earth, ready to kill people for the sake of a bit of plunder."

"But it's just precious possible enough," said Smith slowly. "Why, out here in China they do anything."

"Right," said Barkins; "and I hope the skipper will pay them in their own coin. My! how she burns."

"Yes," a.s.sented Smith, as the barque, after smouldering so long, now blazed, as if eager to clear away all traces of the horrible tragedy.

"You'll recollect all about that cabin, Gnat, if we do get at the beggars--won't you?"

"Recollect?" I said, with a s.h.i.+ver; "I shall never be able to forget it."

Then we relapsed into silence, and stood resting our arms over the bulwarks, gazing at the distant fire, in which I could picture plainly all the horrors and suggestions of the wrecked cabin. I even seemed to see the yellow-faced wretches, all smeared with blood, dragging their victims to the stern windows. And my imagination then ran riot for a time, as I fancied I saw them seizing men not half-dead, but making a feeble struggle for their lives, and begging in agonising tones for mercy, but only to be struck again, and pitched out into the sea.

I fancy that I must have been growing half hysterical as the scene grew and grew before me, till I had pictured one poor wretch clinging in his despair to the edge of the stern window, and shrieking for help. There was a curious sensation as if a ball was rising in my throat to choke me, and I was forgetting where I stood, when I was brought back to myself by the voice of my messmate Smith, who said in a husky whisper--

"Think we shall come across any of the poor fellows floating about?"

"Not likely," replied Barkins. "Too many sharks in these seas."

My throat felt dry at this horrible suggestion, but I knew how true it was. And then once more there was silence, and, like the rest--officers and men--we stood there watching the burning wreck hour after hour, not a soul on board feeling the slightest disposition to go below.

It must have been quite a couple of hours later, when I started in the darkness, for something touched my arm, and, looking sharply to my right, I could just make out the figure of Ching close to me, while on looking in the other direction I found that I was alone, for Barkins and Smith had gone forward to a group close to the bows.

"You, Ching?" I said, "looking at the mischief your friends have done?"

"Fliends burnee s.h.i.+p? No fliends. Velly bad men. Ching feel allee shame. Velly bad men evelywhere. Killee, get dollar. No velly bad men, London?"

"I'm afraid there are," I said sadly.

"Yes; velly bad men, London. Killee get dollar. You choppee off bad men head?"

"No," I said; "but they kill them if they commit murder."

"Commit murder? You mean killee get dollar?"

"Yes."

"Allee light. Plenty bad men evelywhere. Captain going kill pilate?"

"If we can catch them," I said.

"Yes, velly hard catchee catchee. Captain never catchee in s.h.i.+p.

Pilate allee lun away. 'Flaid of big gun. Get two big junk, put plenty sailor boy where pilate can't see. Then pilate come along kill and burnee. Junk steal all along. Jolly sailor jump up and cut allee pilate head off."

"Send that boy forward!" cried a stern voice, which made me jump again.

"Who's that?"

"Herrick, sir," I said, touching my cap, for the captain came forward out of the darkness.

"Then you ought to know better, sir. The scoundrel has no business in this part of the s.h.i.+p. What does he want?"

"I beg pardon, sir; he came up to propose a way of trapping the pirates."

"Eh, what?" said the captain eagerly. "Bah! absurd. Send him below; I hate to see the very face of a Chinaman. No; stop! He ought to know something of their tricks. What does he say?"

I told him, and he stood there as if thinking.

"Well, I don't know, Mr Herrick. We might perhaps lure them out of their hiding-places in that way, with a couple of Chinese crews to work the junks. But no; the wretches would be equally strong, and would fight like rats. Too many of my poor lads would be cut down. They would have us at a terrible disadvantage. We must keep to the s.h.i.+p. I can only fight these wretches with guns."

He was turning away, when a thought struck me, and, forgetting my awe of the captain, and the fact that a proposal from a mids.h.i.+pman to such a magnate might be resented as an unheard-of piece of impertinence, I exclaimed excitedly--

"I beg pardon, sir."

"Yes?"

"I think I know how it could be done."

"Eh? You, Mr Herrick! Pooh! Stop," he said sharply, as, feeling completely abashed, I was shrinking away, when he laid his hand kindly on my shoulder. "Let's hear what you mean, my boy. The mouse did help the lion in the fable, didn't he?"

"Yes, sir."

"Not that I consider myself a lion, Mr Herrick," he said good-humouredly, "and I will not insult you by calling you a mouse; but these Chinese fiends are too much for me, and I really am caught in the net. Here, send that man forward, and come into my cabin."

"Ching, go right up to the forecastle," I said.

"No wantee go s'eep," he said angrily. "Makee Ching bad see s.h.i.+p burned."

"Never mind now; go and wait," I whispered; and he nodded and went off, while I walked hurriedly back to the captain, who led the way to his cabin.

Before I had gone many steps I had to pa.s.s Smith, who came quickly up to me.

"Hallo! old chap," he whispered, "what have you been up to now? Wigging from the skipper? I'll go and tell the Tanner, and we'll get clean handkerchiefs for a good cry."

CHAPTER EIGHT.

MY PLAN.