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<h1>Tales of Daring and Danger</h1>

<h2>by G. A. Henty</h2>

<h1>Contents</h1>

<ul>
  <li><a href="#story_01">Bears and Dacoits</a></li>
  <li><a href="#story_02">The Paternosters</a></li>
  <li><a href="#story_03">A Pipe of Mystery</a></li>
  <li><a href="#story_04">White-Faced Dick</a></li>
  <li><a href="#story_05">A Brush with the Chinese</a></li>
</ul>


<h1><a name="story_01"></a>Bears and Dacoits.</h1>
<h2>A Tale of the Ghauts</h2>

<h3>Chapter I.</h3>

<p>A merry party were sitting in the verandah of one
of the largest and handsomest bungalows of Poonah.
It belonged to Colonel Hastings, colonel of a native
regiment stationed there, and at present, in virtue
of seniority, commanding a brigade. Tiffin was on,
and three or four officers and four ladies had taken
their seats in the comfortable cane lounging chairs
which form the invariable furniture of the verandah
of a well-ordered bungalow. Permission had been duly
asked, and granted by Mrs. Hastings and the cheroots
had just begun to draw, when Miss Hastings, a niece
of the colonel, who had only arrived the previous week
from England, said,&ndash;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Uncle, I am quite disappointed. Mrs. Lyons
showed me the bear she has got tied up in their compound,
and it is the most wretched little thing, not bigger
than Rover, papa&rsquo;s retriever, and it&rsquo;s
full-grown. I thought bears were great fierce creatures,
and this poor little thing seemed so restless and
unhappy that I thought it quite a shame not to let
it go.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Colonel Hastings smiled rather grimly.</p>

<p>&ldquo;And yet, small and insignificant as that bear
is, my dear, it is a question whether he is not as
dangerous an animal to meddle with as a man-eating
tiger.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;What, that wretched little bear, Uncle?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, that wretched little bear. Any experienced
sportsman will tell you that hunting those little
bears is as dangerous a sport as tiger-hunting on
foot, to say nothing of tiger-hunting from an elephant&rsquo;s
back, in which there is scarcely any danger whatever.
I can speak feelingly about it, for my career was
pretty nearly brought to an end by a bear, just after
I entered the army, some thirty years ago, at a spot
within a few miles from here. I have got the scars
on my shoulder and arm still.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Oh, do tell me all about it,&rdquo; Miss Hastings
said, and the request being seconded by the rest of
the party, none of whom, with the exception of Mrs.
Hastings, had ever heard the story before&ndash;for the
colonel was somewhat chary of relating this special
experience&ndash;he waited till they had all drawn up their
chairs as close as possible, and then giving two or
three vigorous puffs at his cheroot, began as follows&ndash;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Thirty years ago, in 1855, things were not
so settled in the Deccan as they are now. There was
no idea of insurrection on a large scale, but we were
going through one of those outbreaks of Dacoity, which
have several times proved so troublesome. Bands of
marauders kept the country in confusion, pouring down
on a village, now carrying off three or four of the
Bombay money-lenders, who were then, as now, the curse
of the country; sometimes making an onslaught upon
a body of traders; and occasionally venturing to attack
small detachments of troops or isolated parties of
police. They were not very formidable, but they were
very troublesome, and most difficult to catch, for
the peasantry regarded them as patriots, and aided
and shielded them in every way. The head-quarters
of these gangs of Dacoits were the Ghauts. In the thick
bush and deep valleys and gorges there they could always
take refuge, while sometimes the more daring chiefs
converted these detached peaks and masses of rock,
numbers of which you can see as you come up the Ghaut
by railway, into almost impregnable fortresses. Many
of these masses of rock rise as sheer up from the
hillside as walls of masonry, and look at a short
distance like ruined castles. Some are absolutely
inaccessible, others can only be scaled by experienced
climbers, and, although possible for the natives with
their bare feet, are impracticable to European troops.
Many of these rock fortresses were at various times
the headquarters of famous Dacoit leaders, and unless
the summits happened to be commanded from some higher
ground within gunshot range they were all but impregnable
except by starvation. When driven to bay, these fellows
would fight well.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Well, about the time I joined, the Dacoits
were unusually troublesome; the police had a hard
time of it, and almost lived in the saddle, and the
cavalry were constantly called up to help them, while
detachments of infantry from the station were under
canvas at several places along the top of the Ghauts
to cut the bands off from their strongholds, and to
aid, if necessary, in turning them out of their rock
fortresses. The natives in the valleys at the foot
of the Ghauts, who have always been a semi-independent
race, ready to rob whenever they saw a chance, were
great friends with the Dacoits, and supplied them with
provisions whenever the hunt on the Deccan was too
hot for them to make raids in that direction.</p>

<p>&ldquo;This is a long introduction, you will say,
and does not seem to have much to do with bears; but
it is really necessary, as you will see. I had joined
about six months when three companies of the regiment
were ordered to relieve a wing of the 15th, who had
been under canvas at a village some four miles to
the north of the point where the line crosses the
top of the Ghauts. There were three white officers,
and little enough to do, except when a party was sent
off to assist the police. We had one or two brushes
with the Dacoits, but I was not out on either occasion.
However, there was plenty of shooting, and a good many
pigs about, so we had very good fun. Of course, as
a raw hand, I was very hot for it, and as the others
had both passed the enthusiastic age, except for pig-sticking
and big game, I could always get away. I was supposed
not to go far from camp, because, in the first place,
I might be wanted; and, in the second, because of
the Dacoits; and Norworthy, who was in command, used
to impress upon me that I ought not to go beyond the
sound of a bugle. Of course we both knew that if I
intended to get any sport I must go further afoot
than this; but I merely used to say &lsquo;All right,
sir, I will keep an ear to the camp,&rsquo; and he
on his part never considered it necessary to ask where
the game which appeared on the table came from. But
in point of fact, I never went very far, and my servant
always had instructions which way to send for me if
I was wanted; while as to the Dacoits I did not believe
in their having the impudence to come in broad daylight
within a mile or two of our camp. I did not often
go down the face of the Ghauts. The shooting was good,
and there were plenty of bears in those days, but
it needed a long day for such an expedition, and in
view of the Dacoits who might be scattered about,
was not the sort of thing to be undertaken except with
a strong party. Norworthy had not given any precise
orders about it, but I must admit that he said one
day:&ndash;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Of course you won&rsquo;t be fool enough
to think of going down the Ghauts, Hastings?&rsquo;
But I did not look at that as equivalent to a direct
order&ndash;whatever I should do now,&rdquo; the colonel
put in, on seeing a furtive smile on the faces of
his male listeners.</p>

<p>&ldquo;However, I never meant to go down, though I
used to stand on the edge and look longingly down
into the bush and fancy I saw bears moving about in
scores. But I don&rsquo;t think I should have gone
into their country if they had not come into mine.
One day the fellow who always carried my spare gun
or flask, and who was a sort of shekarry in a small
way, told me he had heard that a farmer, whose house
stood near the edge of the Ghauts, some two miles
away, had been seriously annoyed by his fruit and
corn being stolen by bears.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;I&rsquo;ll go and have a look at the
place tomorrow,&rsquo; I said, &rsquo;there is no
parade, and I can start early. You may as well tell
the mess cook to put up a basket with some tiffin
and a bottle of claret, and get a boy to carry it
over.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;The bears not come in day,&rsquo; Rahman
said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Of course not,&rsquo; I replied, &rsquo;still
I may like to find out which way they come. Just do
as you are told.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;The next morning, at seven o&rsquo;clock, I
was at the farmer&rsquo;s spoken of, and there was
no mistake as to the bears. A patch of Indian corn
had been ruined by them, and two dogs had been killed.
The native was in a terrible state of rage and alarm.
He said that on moonlight nights he had seen eight
of them, and they came and sniffed around the door
of the cottage.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Why don&rsquo;t you fire through the
window at them?&rsquo; I asked scornfully, for I had
seen a score of tame bears in captivity, and, like
you, Mary, was inclined to despise them, though there
was far less excuse for me, for I had heard stories
which should have convinced me that, small as he is,
the Indian bear is not a beast to be attacked with
impunity. Upon walking to the edge of the Ghauts there
was no difficulty in discovering the route by which
the bears came up to the farm. For a mile to the right
and left the ground fell away as if cut with a knife,
leaving a precipice of over a hundred feet sheer down;
but close by where I was standing was the head of
a water-course, which in time had gradually worn a
sort of cleft in the wall, up or down which it was
not difficult to make one&rsquo;s way. Further down
this little gorge widened out and became a deep ravine,
and further still a wide valley, where it opened upon
the flats far below us. About half a mile down where
the ravine was deepest and darkest was a thick clump
of trees and jungle.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;That&rsquo;s where the bears are?&rsquo;
I asked Rahman. He nodded. It seemed no distance.
I could get down and back in time for tiffin, and perhaps
bag a couple of bears. For a young sportsman the temptation
was great. &rsquo;How long would it take us to go
down and have a shot or two at them?&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;No good go down. Master come here at
night, shoot bears when they come up.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I had thought of that; but, in the first place,
it did not seem much sport to shoot the beasts from
cover when they were quietly eating, and, in the next
place, I knew that Norworthy could not, even if he
were willing, give me leave to go out of camp at night.
I waited, hesitating for a few minutes, and then I
said to myself, &rsquo;It is of no use waiting. I
could go down and get a bear and be back again while
I am thinking of it;&rsquo; then to Rahman, &rsquo;No,
come along; we will have a look through that wood
anyhow.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Rahman evidently did not like it.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Not easy find bear, sahib. He very cunning.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Well, very likely we sha&rsquo;n&rsquo;t
find them,&rsquo; I said, &rsquo;but we can try anyhow.
Bring that bottle with you; the tiffin basket can wait
here till we come back.&rsquo; In another five minutes
I had begun to climb down the watercourse&ndash;the shekarry
following me. I took the double-barrelled rifle and
handed him the shot-gun, having first dropped a bullet
down each barrel over the charge. The ravine was steep,
but there were bushes to hold on by, and although
it was hot work and took a good deal longer than I
expected, we at last got down to the place which I
had fixed upon as likely to be the bears&rsquo; home.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Sahib, climb up top,&rsquo; Rahman said;
&rsquo;come down through wood; no good fire at bear
when he above.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I had heard that before; but I was hot, the
sun was pouring down, there was not a breath of wind,
and it looked a long way up to the top of the wood.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Give me the claret. It would take too
long to search the wood regularly. We will sit down
here for a bit, and if we can see anything moving
up in the wood, well and good; if not, we will come
back again another day with some beaters and dogs.&rsquo;
So saying, I sat down with my back against a rock,
at a spot where I could look up among the trees for
a long way through a natural vista. I had a drink of
claret, and then I sat and watched till gradually
I dropped off to sleep. I don&rsquo;t know how long
I slept, but it was some time, and I woke up with a
sudden start. Rahman, who had, I fancy, been asleep
too, also started up.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The noise which had aroused us was made by
a rolling stone striking a rock; and looking up I
saw some fifty yards away, not in the wood, but on
the rocky hillside on our side of the ravine, a bear
standing, as though unconscious of our presence, snuffing
the air. As was natural, I seized my rifle, cocked
it, and took aim, unheeding a cry of &rsquo;No, no,
sahib,&rsquo; from Rahman. However, I was not going
to miss such a chance as this, and I let fly. The
beast had been standing sideways to me, and as I saw
him fall I felt sure I had hit him in the heart. I
gave a shout of triumph, and was about to climb up,
when, from behind the rock on which the bear had stood,
appeared another growling fiercely; on seeing me, it
at once prepared to come down. Stupidly, being taken
by surprise, and being new at it, I fired at once
at its head. The bear gave a spring, and then&ndash;it
seemed instantaneous&ndash;down it came at me. Whether it
rolled down, or slipped down, or ran down, I don&rsquo;t
know, but it came almost as if it had jumped straight
at me.</p>

<p>[Illustration: &ldquo;My Gun, Rahman,&rdquo; I Shouted.]</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;My gun, Rahman,&rsquo; I shouted, holding
out my hand. There was no answer. I glanced round,
and found that the scoundrel had bolted. I had time,
and only just time, to take a step backwards, and to
club my rifle, when the brute was upon me. I got one
fair blow at the side of its head, a blow that would
have smashed the skull of any civilized beast into
pieces, and which did fortunately break the brute&rsquo;s
jaw, then in an instant he was upon me, and I was
fighting for life. My hunting-knife was out, and with
my left hand I had the beast by the throat; while
with my right I tried to drive my knife into its ribs.
My bullet had gone through his chest. The impetus
of his charge had knocked me over, and we rolled on
the ground, he tearing with his claws at my shoulder
and arm, I stabbing and struggling, my great effort
being to keep my knees up so as to protect my body
with them from his hind claws. After the first blow
with his paw, which laid my shoulder open, I do not
think I felt any special pain whatever. There was a
strange faint sensation, and my whole energy seemed
centered in the two ideas&ndash;to strike and to keep my
knees up. I knew that I was getting faint, but I was
dimly conscious that his efforts, too, were relaxing.
His weight on me seemed to increase enormously, and
the last idea that flashed across me was that it was
a drawn fight.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The next idea of which I was conscious was
that I was being carried. I seemed to be swinging
about, and I thought I was at sea. Then there was
a little jolt and a sense of pain. &lsquo;A collision,&rsquo;
I muttered, and opened my eyes. Beyond the fact that
I seemed in a yellow world&ndash;a bright orange-yellow&ndash;my
eyes did not help me, and I lay vaguely wondering
about it all, till the rocking ceased. There was another
bump, and then the yellow world seemed to come to
an end; and as the daylight streamed in upon me I
fainted again. This time when I awoke to consciousness
things were clearer. I was stretched by a little stream.
A native woman was sprinkling my face and washing
the blood from my wounds; while another, who had with
my own knife cut off my coat and shirt, was tearing
the latter into strips to bandage my wounds. The yellow
world was explained. I was lying on the yellow robe
of one of the women. They had tied the ends together,
placed a long stick through them, and carried me in
the bag-like hammock. They nodded to me when they saw
I was conscious, and brought water in a large leaf,
and poured it into my mouth. Then one went away for
some time, and came back with some leaves and bark.
These they chewed and put on my wounds, bound them
up with strips of my shirt, and then again knotted
the ends of the cloth, and lifting me up, went on
as before.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I was sure that we were much lower down the
Ghaut than we had been when I was watching for the
bears, and we were now going still lower. However,
I knew very little Hindustani, nothing of the language
the women spoke. I was too weak to stand, too weak
even to think much, and I dozed and woke, and dozed
again, until, after what seemed to me many hours of
travel, we stopped again, this time before a tent.
Two or three old women and four or five men came out,
and there was great talking between them and the young
women&ndash;for they were young&ndash;who had carried me down.
Some of the party appeared angry, but at last things
quieted down, and I was carried into the tent. I had
fever, and was, I suppose, delirious for days. I afterwards
found that for fully a fortnight I had lost all consciousness,
but a good constitution and the nursing of the women
pulled me round. When once the fever had gone, I began
to mend rapidly. I tried to explain to the women that
if they would go up to the camp and tell them where
I was they would be well rewarded, but although I
was sure they understood, they shook then heads, and
by the fact that as I became stronger two or three
armed men always hung about the tent, I came to the
conclusion that I was a sort of prisoner. This was
annoying, but did not seem serious. If these people
were Dacoits, or as was more likely, allies of the
Dacoits, I could be kept only for ransom or exchange.
Moreover, I felt sure of my ability to escape when
I got strong, especially as I believed that in the
young women who had saved my life, both by bringing
me down and by their careful nursing, I should find
friends.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Were they pretty, uncle?&rdquo; Mary Hastings
broke in.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Never mind whether they were pretty, Mary;
they were better than pretty.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;No; but we like to know, uncle.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Well, except for the soft, dark eyes, common
to the race, and the good temper and lightheartedness,
also so general among Hindu girls, and the tenderness
which women feel towards a creature whose life they
have saved, whether it is a wounded bird or a drowning
puppy, I suppose they were nothing remarkable in the
way of beauty, but at the time I know that I thought
them charming.&rdquo;</p>

<h3>Chapter II.</h3>

<p>&ldquo;Just as I was getting strong enough to walk,
and was beginning to think of making my escape, a
band of five or six fellows, armed to the teeth, came
in, and made signs that I was to go with them. It was
evidently an arranged thing, the girls only were surprised,
but they were at once turned out, and as we started
I could see two crouching figures in the shade with
their cloths over their heads. I had a native garment
thrown over my shoulders, and in five minutes after
the arrival of the fellows found myself on my way.
It took us some six hours before we reached our destination,
which was one of those natural rock citadels. Had I
been in my usual health I could have done the distance
in an hour and a half, but I had to rest constantly,
and was finally carried rather than helped up. I had
gone not unwillingly, for the men were clearly, by
their dress, Dacoits of the Deccan, and I had no doubt
that it was intended either to ransom or exchange
me.</p>

<p>&ldquo;At the foot of this natural castle were some
twenty or thirty more robbers, and I was led to a
rough sort of arbour in which was lying, on a pile
of maize straw, a man who was evidently their chief.
He rose and we exchanged salaams.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;What is your name, sahib?&rsquo; he
asked in Mahratta.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Hastings&ndash;Lieutenant Hastings,&rsquo;
I said. &lsquo;And yours?&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Sivajee Punt!&rsquo; he said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;This was bad. I had fallen into the hands of
the most troublesome, most ruthless, and most famous
of the Dacoit leaders. Over and over again he had
been hotly chased, but had always managed to get away;
and when I last heard anything of what was going on
four or five troops of native police were scouring
the country after him. He gave an order which I did
not understand, and a wretched Bombay writer, I suppose
a clerk of some money-lender, was dragged forward.
Sivajee Punt spoke to him for some time, and the fellow
then told me in English that I was to write at once
to the officer commanding the troops, telling him that
I was in his hands, and should be put to death directly
he was attacked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Ask him,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;if he
will take any sum of money to let me go?&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Sivajee shook his head very decidedly.</p>

<p>&ldquo;A piece of paper was put before me, and a pen
and ink, and I wrote as I had been ordered, adding,
however, in French, that I had brought myself into
my present position by my own folly, and would take
my chance, for I well knew the importance which Government
attached to Sivajee&rsquo;s capture. I read out loud
all that I had written in English, and the interpreter
translated it. Then the paper was folded and I addressed
it, &lsquo;The Officer Commanding,&rsquo; and I was
given some chupattis and a drink of water, and allowed
to sleep. The Dacoits had apparently no fear of any
immediate attack.</p>

<p>&ldquo;It was still dark, although morning was just
breaking, when I was awakened, and was got up to the
citadel. I was hoisted rather than climbed, two men
standing above with a rope, tied round my body, so
that I was half-hauled, half-pushed up the difficult
places, which would have taxed all my climbing powers
had I been in health.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The height of this mass of rock was about a
hundred feet; the top was fairly flat, with some depressions
and risings, and about eighty feet long by fifty wide.
It had evidently been used as a fortress in ages past.
Along the side facing the hill were the remains of
a rough wall. In the centre of a depression was a
cistern, some four feet square, lined with stone-work,
and in another depression a gallery had been cut,
leading to a subterranean store-room or chamber. This
natural fortress rose from the face of the hill at
a distance of a thousand yards or so from the edge
of the plateau, which was fully two hundred feet higher
than the top of the rock. In the old days it would
have been impregnable, and even at that time it was
an awkward place to take, for the troops were armed
only with Brown Bess, and rifled cannon were not thought
of. Looking round, I could see that I was some four
miles from the point where I had descended. The camp
was gone; but running my eye along the edge of the
plateau I could see the tops of tents a mile to my
right, and again two miles to my left; turning round,
and looking down into the wide valley, I saw a regimental
camp.</p>

<p>&ldquo;It was evident that a vigorous effort was being
made to surround and capture the Dacoits, since troops
had been brought up from Bombay. In addition to the
troops above and below, there would probably be a strong
police force, acting on the face of the hill. I did
not see all these things at the time, for I was, as
soon as I got to the top, ordered to sit down behind
the parapet, a fellow armed to the teeth squatting
down by me, and signifying that if I showed my head
above the stones he would cut my throat without hesitation.
There were, however, sufficient gaps between the stones
to allow me to have a view of the crest of the Ghaut,
while below my view extended down to the hills behind
Bombay. It was evident to me now why the Dacoits did
not climb up into the fortress. There were dozens
of similar crags on the face of the Ghauts, and the
troops did not as yet know their whereabouts. It was
a sort of blockade of the whole face of the hills
which was being kept up, and there were, probably
enough, several other bands of Dacoits lurking in
the jungle.</p>

<p>&ldquo;There were only two guards and myself on the
rock plateau. I discussed with myself the chances
of my overpowering them and holding the top of the
rock till help came, but I was greatly weakened, and
was not a match for a boy, much less for the two stalwart
Mahrattas; besides, I was by no means sure that the
way I had been brought up was the only possible path
to the top. The day passed off quietly. The heat on
the bare rock was frightful, but one of the men, seeing
how weak and ill I really was, fetched a thick rug
from the storehouse, and with the aid of a stick made
a sort of lean-to against the wall, under which I lay
sheltered from the sun.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Once or twice during the day I heard a few
distant musket-shots, and once a sharp heavy outburst
of firing. It must have been three or four miles away,
but it was on the side of the Ghaut, and showed that
the troops or police were at work. My guards looked
anxiously in that direction, and uttered sundry curses.
When it was dusk, Sivajee and eight of the Dacoits
came up. From what they said, I gathered that the
rest of the band had dispersed, trusting either to
get through the line of their pursuers, or, if caught,
to escape with slight punishment, the men who remained
being too deeply concerned in murderous outrages to
hope for mercy. Sivajee himself handed me a letter,
which the man who had taken my note had brought back
in reply. Major Knapp, the writer, who was the second
in command, said that he could not engage the Government,
but that if Lieutenant Hastings was given up the act
would certainly dispose the Government to take the
most merciful view possible; but that if, on the contrary,
any harm was suffered by Lieutenant Hastings, every
man taken would be at once hung. Sivajee did not appear
put out about it. I do not think he expected any other
answer, and imagine that his real object in writing
was simply to let them know that I was a prisoner,
and so enable him the better to paralyse the attack
upon a position which he no doubt considered all but
impregnable.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I was given food, and was then allowed to walk
as I chose upon the little plateau, two of the Dacoits
taking post as sentries at the steepest part of the
path, while the rest gathered, chatting and smoking,
in the depression in front of the storehouse. It was
still light enough for me to see for some distance
down the face of the rock, and I strained my eyes
to see if I could discern any other spot at which
an ascent or descent was possible. The prospect was
not encouraging. At some places the face fell sheer
away from the edge, and so evident was the impracticability
of escape that the only place which I glanced at twice
was the western side, that is the one away from the
hill. Here it sloped gradually for a few feet. I took
off my shoes and went down to the edge. Below, some
ten feet, was a ledge, on to which with care I could
get down, but below that was a sheer fall of some fifty
feet. As a means of escape it was hopeless, but it
struck me that if an attack was made I might slip
away and get on to the ledge. Once there I could not
be seen except by a person standing where I now was,
just on the edge of the slope, a spot to which it
was very unlikely that anyone would come.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The thought gave me a shadow of hope, and,
returning to the upper end of the platform, I lay
down, and in spite of the hardness of the rock, was
soon asleep. The pain of my aching bones woke me up
several times, and once, just as the first tinge of
dawn was coming, I thought I could hear movements
in the jungle. I raised myself somewhat, and I saw
that the sounds had been heard by the Dacoits, for
they were standing listening, and some of them were
bringing spare fire-arms from the storehouse, in evident
preparation for attack.</p>

<p>&ldquo;As I afterwards learned, the police had caught
one of the Dacoits trying to effect his escape, and
by means of a little of the ingenious torture to which
the Indian police then frequently resorted, when their
white officers were absent, they obtained from him
the exact position of Sivajee&rsquo;s band, and learned
the side from which the ascent must be made. That
the Dacoit and his band were still upon the slopes
of the Ghauts they knew, and were gradually narrowing
their circle, but there were so many rocks and hiding-places
that the process of searching was a slow one, and
the intelligence was so important that the news was
off at once to the colonel, who gave orders for the
police to surround the rock at daylight and to storm
it if possible. The garrison was so small that the
police were alone ample for the work, supposing that
the natural difficulties were not altogether insuperable.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Just at daybreak there was a distant noise
of men moving in the jungle, and the Dacoit halfway
down the path fired his gun. He was answered by a
shout and a volley. The Dacoits hurried out from the
chamber, and lay down on the edge, where, sheltered
by a parapet, they commanded the path. They paid no
attention to me, and I kept as far away as possible.
The fire began&ndash;a quiet, steady fire, a shot at a time,
and in strong contrast to the rattle kept up from
the surrounding jungle; but every shot must have told,
as man after man who strove to climb that steep path,
fell. It lasted only ten minutes, and then all was
quiet again.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The attack had failed, as I knew it must do,
for two men could have held the place against an army;
a quarter of an hour later a gun from the crest above
spoke out, and a round shot whistled above our heads.
Beyond annoyance, an artillery fire could do no harm,
for the party could be absolutely safe in the store
cave. The instant the shot flew overhead, however,
Sivajee Punt beckoned to me, and motioned me to take
my seat on the wall facing the guns. Hesitation was
useless, and I took my seat with my back to the Dacoits
and my face to the hill. One of the Dacoits, as I
did so, pulled off the native cloth which covered my
shoulders, in order that I might be clearly seen.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Just as I took my place another round shot
hummed by; but then there was a long interval of silence.
With a field-glass every feature must have been distinguishable
to the gunners, and I had no doubt that they were
waiting for orders as to what to do next.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I glanced round and saw that with the exception
of one fellow squatted behind the parapet some half-dozen
yards away, clearly as a sentry to keep me in place,
all the others had disappeared. Some, no doubt, were
on sentry down the path, the others were in the store
beneath me. After half an hour&rsquo;s silence the
guns spoke out again. Evidently the gunners were told
to be as careful as they could, for some of the shots
went wide on the left, others on the right. A few
struck the rock below me. The situation was not pleasant,
but I thought that at a thousand yards they ought
not to hit me, and I tried to distract my attention
by thinking out what I should do under every possible
contingency.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Presently I felt a crash and a shock, and fell
backwards to the ground. I was not hurt, and on picking
myself up saw that the ball had struck the parapet
to the left, just where my guard was sitting, and he
lay covered with its fragments. His turban lay some
yards behind him. Whether he was dead or not I neither
knew nor cared.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I pushed down some of the parapet where I had
been sitting, dropped my cap on the edge outside,
so as to make it appear that I had fallen over, and
then picking up the man&rsquo;s turban, ran to the
other end of the platform and scrambled down to the
ledge. Then I began to wave my arms about&ndash;I had nothing
on above the waist&ndash;and in a moment I saw a face with
a uniform cap peer out through the jungle, and a hand
was waved. I made signs to him to make his way to
the foot of the perpendicular wall of rock beneath
me. I then unwound the turban, whose length was, I
knew, amply sufficient to reach to the bottom, and
then looked round for something to write on. I had
my pencil still in my trousers pocket, but not a scrap
of paper.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I picked up a flattish piece of rock and wrote
on it, &rsquo;Get a rope-ladder quickly, I can haul
it up. Ten men in garrison. They are all under cover.
Keep on firing to distract their attention.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I tied the stone to the end of the turban,
and looked over. A non-commissioned officer of the
police was already standing below. I lowered the stone;
he took it, waved his hand to me, and was gone.</p>

<p>&ldquo;An hour passed: it seemed an age. The round
shots still rang overhead, and the fire was now much
more heavy and sustained than before. Presently I
again saw a movement in the jungle, and Norworthy&rsquo;s
face appeared, and he waved his arm in greeting.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Five minutes more and a party were gathered
at the foot of the rock, and a strong rope was tied
to the cloth. I pulled it up. A rope-ladder was attached
to it, and the top rung was in a minute or two in my
hands. To it was tied a piece of paper with the words:
&rsquo;Can you fasten the ladder?&rdquo; I wrote on
the paper: &rsquo;No; but I can hold it for a light
weight.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I put the paper with a stone in the end of
the cloth, and lowered it again. Then I sat down,
tied the rope round my waist, got my feet against
two projections, and waited. There was a jerk, and
then I felt some one was coming up the rope-ladder.
The strain was far less than I expected, but the native
policeman who came up first did not weigh half so
much as an average Englishman. There were now two of
us to hold. The officer in command of the police came
up next, then Norworthy, then a dozen more police.
I explained the situation, and we mounted to the upper
level. Not a soul was to be seen. Quickly we advanced
and took up a position to command the door of the
underground chamber; while one of the police waved
a white cloth from his bayonet as a signal to the
gunners to cease firing. Then the police officer hailed
the party within the scave.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Sivajee Punt! you may as well come out
and give yourself up! We are in possession, and resistance
is useless!&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;A yell of rage and surprise was heard, and
the Dacoits, all desperate men, came bounding out,
firing as they did so. Half of their number were shot
down at once, and the rest, after a short, sharp struggle,
were bound hand and foot.</p>

<p>&ldquo;That is pretty well all of the story, I think.
Sivajee Punt was one of the killed. The prisoners
were all either hung or imprisoned for life. I escaped
my blowing-up for having gone down the Ghauts after
the bear, because, after all, Sivajee Punt might have
defied their force for months had I not done so.</p>

<p>&ldquo;It seemed that that scoundrel Rahman had taken
back word that I was killed. Norworthy had sent down
a strong party, who found the two dead bears, and
who, having searched everywhere without finding any
signs of my body, came to the conclusion that I had
been found and carried away, especially as they ascertained
that natives used that path. They had offered rewards,
but nothing was heard of me till my note saying I was
in Sivajee&rsquo;s hands arrived.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;And did you ever see the women who carried
you off?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;No, Mary, I never saw them again. I did, however,
after immense trouble, succeed in finding out where
it was that I had been taken to. I went down at once,
but found the village deserted. Then after much inquiry
I found where the people had moved to, and sent messages
to the women to come up to the camp, but they never
came; and I was reduced at last to sending them down
two sets of silver bracelets, necklaces, and bangles,
which must have rendered them the envy of all the women
on the Ghauts. They sent back a message of grateful
thanks, and I never heard of them afterwards. No doubt
their relatives, who knew that their connection with
the Dacoits was now known, would not let them come.
However, I had done all I could, and I have no doubt
the women were perfectly satisfied. So you see, my
dear, that the Indian bear, small as he is, is an
animal which it is as well to leave alone, at any
rate when he happens to be up on the side of a hill
while you are at the foot.&rdquo;</p>

<h1><a name="story_02"></a>The Paternosters.</h1>

<h2>A Yachting Story.</h2>

<p>And do you really mean that we are to cross by the
steamer, Mr. Virtue, while you go over in the <i>Seabird</i>?
I do not approve of that at all. Fanny, why do you
not rebel, and say we won&rsquo;t be put ashore? I
call it horrid, after a fortnight on board this dear
little yacht, to have to get on to a crowded steamer,
with no accommodation and lots of sea-sick women,
perhaps, and crying children. You surely cannot be
in earnest?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I do not like it any more than you do, Minnie;
but, as Tom says we had better do it, and my husband
agrees with him, I am afraid we must submit. Do you
really think it is quite necessary, Mr. Virtue? Minnie
and I are both good sailors, you know; and we would
much rather have a little extra tossing about on board
the <i>Seabird</i> than the discomforts of a steamer.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&rsquo;I certainly think that it will be best, Mrs.
Grantham. You know very well we would rather have
you on board, and that we shall suffer from your loss
more than you will by going the other way; but there&rsquo;s
no doubt the wind is getting up, and though we don&rsquo;t
feel it much here, it must be blowing pretty hard
outside. The <i>Seabird</i> is as good a sea-boat
as anything of her size that floats, but you don&rsquo;t
know what it is to be out in anything like a heavy
sea in a thirty-tonner. It would be impossible for
you to stay on deck, and we should have our hands
full, and should not be able to give you the benefit
of our society. Personally, I should not mind being
out in the <i>Seabird</i> in any weather, but I would
certainly rather not have ladies on board.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t think we should scream, or
do anything foolish, Mr. Virtue?&rdquo; Minnie Graham
said indignantly.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Not at all, Miss Graham. Still, I repeat, the
knowledge that there are women on board, delightful
at other times, does not tend to comfort in bad weather.
Of course, if you prefer it, we can put off our start
till this puff of wind has blown itself out. It may
have dropped before morning. It may last some little
time. I don&rsquo;t think myself that it will drop,
for the glass has fallen, and I am afraid we may have
a spell of broken weather.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Oh no; don&rsquo;t put it off,&rdquo; Mrs.
Grantham said; &ldquo;we have only another fortnight
before James must be back again in London, and it would
be a great pity to lose three or four days perhaps;
and we have been looking forward to cruising about
among the Channel Islands, and to St. Malo, and all
those places. Oh no; I think the other is much the
better plan&ndash;that is, if you won&rsquo;t take us with
you.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;It would be bad manners to say that I won&rsquo;t,
Mrs. Grantham; but I must say I would rather not.
It will be a very short separation. Grantham will
take you on shore at once, and as soon as the boat
comes back I shall be off. You will start in the steamer
this evening, and get into Jersey at nine or ten o&rsquo;clock
to-morrow morning; and if I am not there before you,
I shall not be many hours after you.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Well, if it must be it must,&rdquo; Mrs. Grantham
said, with an air of resignation. &ldquo;Come, Minnie,
let us put a few things into a hand-bag for to-night.
You see the skipper is not to be moved by our pleadings.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;That is the worst of you married women, Fanny,&rdquo;
Miss Graham said, with a little pout. &ldquo;You get
into the way of doing as you are ordered. I call it
too bad. Here have we been cruising about for the last
fortnight, with scarcely a breath of wind, and longing
for a good brisk breeze and a little change and excitement,
and now it comes at last, we are to be packed off
in a steamer. I call it horrid of you, Mr. Virtue.
You may laugh, but I do&rdquo;</p>

<p>Tom Virtue laughed, but he showed no signs of giving
way, and ten minutes later Mr. and Mrs. Grantham and
Miss Graham took their places in the gig, and were
rowed into Southampton Harbour, off which the <i>Seabird</i>
was lying.</p>

<p>The last fortnight had been a very pleasant one, and
it had cost the owner of the <i>Seabird</i> as much
as his guests to come to the conclusion that it was
better to break up the party for a few hours.</p>

<p>Tom Virtue had, up to the age of five-and-twenty,
been possessed of a sufficient income for his wants.
He had entered at the bar, not that he felt any particular
vocation in that direction, but because he thought
it incumbent upon him to do something. Then, at the
death of an uncle, he had come into a considerable
fortune, and was able to indulge his taste for yachting,
which was the sole amusement for which he really cared,
to the fullest.</p>

<p>He sold the little five-tonner he had formerly possessed,
and purchased the <i>Seabird</i>. He could well have
afforded a much larger craft, but he knew that there
was far more real enjoyment in sailing to be obtained
from a small craft than a large one, for in the latter
he would be obliged to have a regular skipper, and
would be little more than a passenger, whereas on
board the <i>Seabird</i>, although his first hand was
dignified by the name of skipper, he was himself the
absolute master. The boat carried the aforesaid skipper,
three hands, and a steward, and with them he had twice
been up the Mediterranean, across to Norway, and had
several times made the circuit of the British Isles.</p>

<p>He had unlimited confidence in his boat, and cared
not what weather he was out in her. This was the first
time since his ownership of her that the <i>Seabird</i>
had carried lady passengers. His friend Grantham, an
old school and college chum, was a hard-working barrister,
and Virtue had proposed to him to take a month&rsquo;s
holiday on board the <i>Seabird</i>.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Put aside your books, old man,&rdquo; he said.
&ldquo;You look fagged and overworked; a month&rsquo;s
blow will do you all the good in the world&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Thank you, Tom; I have made up my mind for
a month&rsquo;s holiday, but I can&rsquo;t accept
your invitation, though I should enjoy it of all things.
But it would not be fair to my wife; she doesn&rsquo;t
get very much of my society, and she has been looking
forward to our having a run together. So I must decline.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Virtue hesitated a moment. He was not very fond of
ladies&rsquo; society, and thought them especially
in the way on board a yacht; but he had a great liking
for his friend&rsquo;s wife, and was almost as much
at home in his house as in his own chambers.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Why not bring the wife with you?&rdquo; he
said, as soon as his mind was made up. &ldquo;It will
be a nice change for her too; and I have heard her
say that she is a good sailor. The accommodation is
not extensive, but the after-cabin is a pretty good
size, and I would do all I could to make her comfortable.
Perhaps she would like another lady with her; if so
by all means bring one. They could have the after-cabin,
you could have the little state-room, and I could
sleep in the saloon.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;It is very good of you, Tom, especially as
I know that it will put you out frightfully; but the
offer is a very tempting one. I will speak to Fanny,
and let you have an answer in the morning.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;That will be delightful, James,&rdquo; Mrs.
Grantham said, when the invitation was repeated to
her. &ldquo;I should like it of all things; and I
am sure the rest and quiet and the sea air will be
just the thing for you. It is wonderful, Tom Virtue
making the offer; and I take it as a great personal
compliment, for he certainly is not what is generally
called a lady&rsquo;s man. It is very nice, too, of
him to think of my having another lady on board. Whom
shall we ask? Oh, I know,&rdquo; she said suddenly;
&ldquo;that will be the thing of all others. We will
ask my cousin Minnie; she is full of fun and life,
and will make a charming wife for Tom!&rdquo;</p>

<p>James Grantham laughed.</p>

<p>&ldquo;What schemers you all are, Fanny! Now I should
call it downright treachery to take anyone on board
the <i>Seabird</i> with the idea of capturing its
master.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Nonsense, treachery!&rdquo; Mrs. Grantham said
indignantly; &ldquo;Minnie is the nicest girl I know,
and it would do Tom a world of good to have a wife
to look after him. Why, he is thirty now, and will
be settling down into a confirmed old bachelor before
long. It&rsquo;s the greatest kindness we could do
him, to take Minnie on board; and I am sure he is the
sort of man any girl might fall in love with when
she gets to know him. The fact is, he&rsquo;s shy!
He never had any sisters, and spends all his time in
winter at that horrid club; so that really he has never
had any women&rsquo;s society, and even with us he
will never come unless he knows we are alone. I call
it a great pity, for I don&rsquo;t know a pleasanter
fellow than he is. I think it will be doing him a
real service in asking Minnie; so that&rsquo;s settled.
I will sit down and write him a note.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;In for a penny, in for a pound, I suppose,&rdquo;
was Tom Virtue&rsquo;s comment when he received Mrs.
Grantham&rsquo;s letter, thanking him warmly for the
invitation, and saying that she would bring her cousin,
Miss Graham, with her, if that young lady was disengaged.</p>

<p>As a matter of self-defence he at once invited Jack
Harvey, who was a mutual friend of himself and Grantham,
to be of the party.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Jack can help Grantham to amuse the women,&rdquo;
he said to himself; &ldquo;that will be more in his
line than mine. I will run down to Cowes to-morrow
and have a chat with Johnson; we shall want a different
sort of stores altogether to those we generally carry,
and I suppose we must do her up a bit below.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Having made up his mind to the infliction of female
passengers, Tom Virtue did it handsomely, and when
the party came on board at Ryde they were delighted
with the aspect of the yacht below. She had been repainted,
the saloon and ladies&rsquo; cabin were decorated in
delicate shades of gray, picked out with gold; and
the upholsterer, into whose hands the owner of the
<i>Seabird</i> had placed her, had done his work with
taste and judgment, and the ladies&rsquo; cabin resembled
a little boudoir.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Why, Tom, I should have hardly known her!&rdquo;
Grantham, who had often spent a day on board the <i>Seabird</i>,
said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I hardly know her myself,&rdquo; Tom said,
rather ruefully; &ldquo;but I hope she&rsquo;s all
right, Mrs. Grantham, and that you and Miss Graham
will find everything you want.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;It is charming!&rdquo; Mrs. Grantham said enthusiastically.
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s awfully good of you, Tom, and we
appreciate it; don&rsquo;t we, Minnie? It is such a
surprise, too; for James said that while I should find
everything very comfortable, I must not expect that
a small yacht would be got up like a palace.&rdquo;</p>

<p>So a fortnight had passed; they had cruised along
the coast as far as Plymouth, anchoring at night at
the various ports on the way. Then they had returned
to Southampton, and it had been settled that as none
of the party, with the exception of Virtue himself,
had been to the Channel Islands, the last fortnight
of the trip should be spent there. The weather had
been delightful, save that there had been some deficiency
in wind, and throughout the cruise the <i>Seabird</i>
had been under all the sail she could spread. But
when the gentlemen came on deck early in the morning
a considerable change had taken place; the sky was
gray and the clouds flying fast overhead.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We are going to have dirty weather,&rdquo;
Tom Virtue said at once. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think
it&rsquo;s going to be a gale, but there will be more
sea on than will be pleasant for ladies. I tell you
what, Grantham; the best thing will be for you to
go on shore with the two ladies, and cross by the boat
to-night. If you don&rsquo;t mind going directly after
breakfast I will start at once, and shall be at St.
Helier&rsquo;s as soon as you are.&rdquo;</p>

<p>And so it had been agreed, but not, as has been seen,
without opposition and protest on the part of the
ladies.</p>

<p>Mrs. Grantham&rsquo;s chief reason for objecting had
not been given. The little scheme on which she had
set her mind seemed to be working satisfactorily.
From the first day Tom Virtue had exerted himself to
play the part of host satisfactorily, and had ere long
shaken off any shyness he may have felt towards the
one stranger of the party, and he and Miss Graham
had speedily got on friendly terms. So things were
going on as well as Mrs. Grantham could have expected.</p>

<p>No sooner had his guests left the side of the yacht
than her owner began to make his preparations for
a start.</p>

<p>&ldquo;What do you think of the weather, Watkins?&rdquo;
he asked his skipper.</p>

<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s going to blow hard, sir; that&rsquo;s
my view of it, and if I was you I shouldn&rsquo;t
up anchor today. Still, it&rsquo;s just as you likes;
the <i>Seabird</i> won&rsquo;t mind it if we don&rsquo;t.
She has had a rough time of it before now; still,
it will be a case of wet jackets, and no mistake.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, I expect we shall have a rough time of
it, Watkins, but I want to get across. We don&rsquo;t
often let ourselves be weather-bound, and I am not
going to begin it to-day. We had better house the topmast
at once, and get two reefs in the main-sail. We can
get the other down when we get clear of the island.
Get number three jib up, and the leg-of-mutton mizzen;
put two reefs in the foresail.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Tom and his friend Harvey, who was a good sailor,
assisted the crew in reefing down the sails, and a
few minutes after the gig had returned and been hoisted
in, the yawl was running rapidly down Southampton waters.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We need hardly have reefed quite so closely,&rdquo;
Jack Harvey said, as he puffed away at his pipe.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Not yet, Jack; but you will see she has as
much as she can carry before long. It&rsquo;s all
the better to make all snug before starting; it saves
a lot of trouble afterwards, and the extra canvas
would not have made ten minutes&rsquo; difference
to us at the outside. We shall have pretty nearly a
dead beat down the Solent. Fortunately tide will be
running strong with us, but there will be a nasty
kick-up there. You will see we shall feel the short
choppy seas there more than we shall when we get outside.
She is a grand boat in a really heavy sea, but in
short waves she puts her nose into it with a will.
Now, if you will take my advice, you will do as I
am going to do, put on a pair of fisherman&rsquo;s
boots and oilskin and sou&rsquo;-wester. There are
several sets for you to choose from below.&rdquo;</p>

<p>As her owner had predicted, the <i>Seabird</i> put
her bowsprit under pretty frequently in the Solent;
the wind was blowing half a gale, and as it met the
tide it knocked up a short, angry sea, crested with
white heads, and Jack Harvey agreed that she had quite
as much sail on her as she wanted. The cabin doors
were bolted, and all made snug to prevent the water
getting below before they got to the race off Hurst
Castle; and it was well that they did so, for she
was as much under water as she was above.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I think if I had given way to the ladies and
brought them with us they would have changed their
minds by this time, Jack,&rdquo; Tom Virtue said,
with a laugh.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I should think so,&rdquo; his friend agreed;
&ldquo;this is not a day for a fair-weather sailor.
Look what a sea is breaking on the shingles!&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, five minutes there would knock her into
matchwood. Another ten minutes and we shall be fairly
out; and I sha&rsquo;n&rsquo;t be sorry; one feels
as if one was playing football, only just at present
the <i>Seabird</i> is the ball and the waves the kickers.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Another quarter of an hour and they had passed the
Needles.</p>

<p>&ldquo;That is more pleasant, Jack,&rdquo; as the
short, chopping motion was exchanged for a regular
rise and fall; &ldquo;this is what I enjoy&ndash;a steady
wind and a regular sea. The <i>Seabird</i> goes over
it like one of her namesakes; she is not taking a
teacupful now over her bows.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Watkins, you may as well take the helm for
a spell, while we go down to lunch. I am not sorry
to give it up for a bit, for it has been jerking like
the kick of a horse.</p>

<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s right, Jack, hang up your oilskin
there. Johnson, give us a couple of towels; we have
been pretty well smothered up there on deck. Now what
have you got for us?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;There is some soup ready, sir, and that cold
pie you had for dinner yesterday.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;That will do; open a couple of bottles of stout.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Lunch over, they went on deck again.</p>

<p>&ldquo;She likes a good blow as well as we do,&rdquo;
Virtue said, enthusiastically, as the yawl rose lightly
over each wave. &ldquo;What do you think of it, Watkins?
Is the wind going to lull a bit as the sun goes down?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I think not, sir. It seems to me it&rsquo;s
blowing harder than it was.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Then we will prepare for the worst, Watkins;
get the try-sail up on deck. When you are ready we
will bring her up into the wind and set it. That&rsquo;s
the comfort of a yawl, Jack; one can always lie to
without any bother, and one hasn&rsquo;t got such
a tremendous boom to handle.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The try-sail was soon on deck, and then the <i>Seabird</i>
was brought up into the wind, the weather fore-sheet
hauled aft, the mizzen sheeted almost fore and aft,
and the <i>Seabird</i> lay, head to wind, rising and
falling with a gentle motion, in strong contrast to
her impetuous rushes when under sail.</p>

<p>&ldquo;She would ride out anything like that,&rdquo;
her owner said. &ldquo;Last time we came through the
Bay on our way from Gib., we were caught in a gale
strong enough to blow the hair off one&rsquo;s head,
and we lay to for nearly three days, and didn&rsquo;t
ship a bucket of water all the time. Now let us lend
a hand to get the mainsail stowed.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Ten minutes&rsquo; work and it was securely fastened
and its cover on; two reefs were put in the trysail.
Two hands went to each of the halliards, while, as
the sail rose, Tom Virtue fastened the toggles round
the mast.</p>

<p>&ldquo;All ready, Watkins?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;All ready, sir.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Slack off the weather fore-sheet, then, and
haul aft the leeward. Slack out the mizzen-sheet a
little, Jack. That&rsquo;s it; now she&rsquo;s off
again, like a duck.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The <i>Seabird</i> felt the relief from the pressure
of the heavy boom to leeward and rose easily and lightly
over the waves.</p>

<p>&ldquo;She certainly is a splendid sea-boat, Tom;
I don&rsquo;t wonder you are ready to go anywhere
in her. I thought we were rather fools for starting
this morning, although I enjoy a good blow; but now
I don&rsquo;t care how hard it comes on.&rdquo;</p>

<p>By night it was blowing a downright gale.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We will lie to till morning, Watkins. So that
we get in by daylight to-morrow evening, that is all
we want. See our side-lights are burning well, and
you had better get up a couple of blue lights, in case
anything comes running up Channel and don&rsquo;t see
our lights. We had better divide into two watches;
I will keep one with Matthews and Dawson, Mr. Harvey
will go in your watch with Nicholls. We had better
get the try-sail down altogether, and lie to under
the foresail and mizzen, but don&rsquo;t put many
lashings on the trysail, one will be enough, and have
it ready to cast off in a moment, in case we want to
hoist the sail in a hurry. I will go down and have
a glass of hot grog first, and then I will take my
watch to begin with. Let the two hands with me go
down; the steward will serve them out a tot each. Jack,
you had better turn in at once.&rdquo; Virtue was
soon on deck again, muffled up in his oilskins.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Now, Watkins, you can go below and turn in.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I sha&rsquo;n&rsquo;t go below to-night, sir&ndash;not
to lie down. There&rsquo;s nothing much to do here,
but I couldn&rsquo;t sleep, if I did lie down.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Very well; you had better go below and get
a glass of grog; tell the steward to give you a big
pipe with a cover like this, out of the locker; and
there&rsquo;s plenty of chewing tobacco, if the men
are short.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I will take that instead of a pipe,&rdquo;
Watkins said; &ldquo;there&rsquo;s nothing like a
quid in weather like this, it ain&rsquo;t never in
your way, and it lasts. Even with a cover a pipe would
soon be out.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Please yourself, Watkins; tell the two hands
forward to keep a bright look-out for lights.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The night passed slowly. Occasionally a sea heavier
than usual came on board, curling over the bow and
falling with a heavy thud on the deck, but for the
most part the <i>Seabird</i> breasted the waves easily;
the bowsprit had been reefed in to its fullest, thereby
adding to the lightness and buoyancy of the boat.
Tom Virtue did not go below when his friend came up
to relieve him at the change of watch, but sat smoking
and doing much talking in the short intervals between
the gusts.</p>

<p>The morning broke gray and misty, driving sleet came
along on the wind, and the horizon was closed in as
by a dull curtain.</p>

<p>&ldquo;How far can we see, do you think, Watkins?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Perhaps a couple of miles, sir.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;That will be enough. I think we both know the
position of every reef to within a hundred yards,
so we will shape our course for Guernsey. If we happen
to hit it off, we can hold on to St Helier; but if
when we think we ought to be within sight of Guernsey
we see nothing of it, we must lie to again, till the
storm has blown itself out or the clouds lift. It
would never do to go groping our way along with such
currents as run among the islands. Put the last reef
in the try-sail before you hoist it. I think you had
better get the foresail down altogether, and run up
the spit-fire jib.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The <i>Seabird</i> was soon under way again.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Now, Watkins, you take the helm; we will go
down and have a cup of hot coffee, and I will see
that the steward has a good supply for you and the
hands, but first, do you take the helm, Jack, whilst
Watkins and I have a look at the chart, and try and
work out where we are, and the course we had better
lie for Guernsey.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Five minutes were spent over the chart, then Watkins
went up and Jack Harvey came down.</p>

<p>&ldquo;You have got the coffee ready, I hope, Johnson?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir, coffee and chocolate. I didn&rsquo;t
know which you would like.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Chocolate, by all means. Jack, I recommend
the chocolate. Bring two full-sized bowls, Johnson,
and put that cold pie on the table, and a couple of
knives and forks; never mind about a cloth; but first
of all bring a couple of basins of hot water, we shall
enjoy our food more after a wash.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The early breakfast was eaten, dry coats and mufflers
put on, pipes lighted, and they then went up upon
deck. Tom took the helm.</p>

<p>&ldquo;What time do you calculate we ought to make
Guernsey, Tom?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;About twelve. The wind is freer than it was,
and we are walking along at a good pace. Matthews,
cast the log, and let&rsquo;s see what we are doing.
About seven knots, I should say.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Seven and a quarter, sir,&rdquo; the man said,
when he checked the line.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Not a bad guess, Tom; it&rsquo;s always difficult
to judge pace in a heavy sea.&rdquo;</p>

<p>At eleven o&rsquo;clock the mist ceased.</p>

<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s fortunate,&rdquo; Tom Virtue said;
&ldquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t be surprised if we get a
glimpse of the sun between the clouds, presently. Will
you get my sextant and the chronometer up, Jack, and
put them handy?&rdquo;</p>

<p>Jack Harvey did as he was asked, but there was no
occasion to use the instruments, for ten minutes later,
Watkins, who was standing near the bow gazing fixedly
ahead, shouted:</p>

<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s Guernsey, sir, on her lee bow,
about six miles away, I should say.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s it, sure enough,&rdquo; Tom agreed,
as he gazed in the direction in which Watkins was
pointing. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a gleam of sunshine
on it, or we shouldn&rsquo;t have seen it yet. Yes,
I think you are about right as to the distance. Now
let us take its bearings, we may lose it again directly.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Having taken the bearings of the island they went
below, and marked off their position on the chart,
and they shaped their course for Cape Grosnez, the
north-western point of Jersey. The gleam of sunshine
was transient&ndash;the clouds closed in again overhead,
darker and grayer than before. Soon the drops of rain
came flying before the wind, the horizon closed in,
and they could not see half a mile away, but, though
the sea was heavy, the <i>Seabird</i> was making capital
weather of it, and the two friends agreed that, after
all, the excitement of a sail like this was worth
a month of pottering about in calms.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We must keep a bright look-out presently,&rdquo;
the skipper said; &ldquo;there are some nasty rocks
off the coast of Jersey. We must give them a wide
berth. We had best make round to the south of the island,
and lay to there till we can pick up a pilot to take
us into St. Helier. I don&rsquo;t think it will be
worth while trying to get into St. Aubyn&rsquo;s Bay
by ourselves.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I think so, too, Watkins, but we will see what
it is like before it gets dark; if we can pick up
a pilot all the better; if not, we will lie to till
morning, if the weather keeps thick; but if it clears
so that we can make out all the lights we ought to
be able to get into the bay anyhow.&rdquo;</p>

<p>An hour later the rain ceased and the sky appeared
somewhat clearer. Suddenly Watkins exclaimed, &ldquo;There
is a wreck, sir! There, three miles away to leeward.
She is on the Patern&oacute;sters.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Good heavens! she is a steamer,&rdquo; Tom
exclaimed, as he caught sight of her the next time
the <i>Seabird</i> lifted on a wave. &ldquo;Can she
be the Southampton boat, do you think?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Like enough, sir, she may have had it thicker
than we had, and may not have calculated enough for
the current.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Up helm, Jack, and bear away towards her. Shall
we shake out a reef, Watkins?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t, sir; she has got as much
as she can carry on her now. We must mind what we
are doing, sir; the currents run like a millstream,
and if we get that reef under our lee, and the wind
and current both setting us on to it, it will be all
up with us in no time.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, I know that, Watkins. Jack, take the helm
a minute while we run down and look at the chart.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Our only chance, Watkins, is to work up behind
the reef, and try and get so that they can either
fasten a line to a buoy and let it float down to us,
or get into a boat, if they have one left, and drift
to us.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;They are an awful group of rocks,&rdquo; Watkins
said, as they examined the chart; &ldquo;you see some
of them show merely at high tide, and a lot of them
are above at low water. It will be an awful business
to get among them rocks, sir, just about as near certain
death as a thing can be.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Well, it&rsquo;s got to be done, Watkins,&rdquo;
Tom said, firmly. &ldquo;I see the danger as well
as you do, but whatever the risk, it must be tried.
Mr. Grantham and the two ladies went on board by my
persuasion, and I should never forgive myself if anything
happened to them. But I will speak to the men.&rdquo;</p>

<p>He went on deck again and called the men to him. &ldquo;Look
here, lads; you see that steamer ashore on the Patern&oacute;sters.
In such a sea as this she may go to pieces in half
an hour. I am determined to make an effort to save
the lives of those on board. As you can see for yourselves
there is no lying to weather of her, with the current
and wind driving us on to the reef; we must beat up
from behind. Now, lads, the sea there is full of rocks,
and the chances are ten to one we strike on to them
and go to pieces; but, anyhow I am going to try; but
I won&rsquo;t take you unless you are willing. The
boat is a good one, and the zinc chambers will keep
her afloat if she fills; well managed, you ought to
be able to make the coast of Jersey in her. Mr. Harvey,
Watkins, and I can handle the yacht, so you can take
the boat if you like.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The men replied that they would stick to the yacht
wherever Mr. Virtue chose to take her, and muttered
something about the ladies, for the pleasant faces
of Mrs. Grantham and Miss Graham had, during the fortnight
they had been on board, won the men&rsquo;s hearts.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Very well, lads, I am glad to find you will
stick by me; if we pull safely through it I will give
each of you three months&rsquo; wages. Now set to
work with a will and get the gig out. We will tow her
after us, and take to her if we make a smash of it.&rdquo;</p>

<p>They were now near enough to see the white breakers,
in the middle of which the ship was lying. She was
fast breaking up. The jagged outline showed that the
stern had been beaten in. The masts and funnel were
gone, and the waves seemed to make a clean breach over
her, almost hiding her from sight in a white cloud
of spray.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Wood and iron can&rsquo;t stand that much longer,&rdquo;
Jack Harvey said; &ldquo;another hour and I should
say there won&rsquo;t be two planks left together.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;It is awful, Jack; I would give all I have
in the world if I had not persuaded them to go on
board. Keep her off a little more, Watkins.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The <i>Seabird</i> passed within a cable&rsquo;s-length
of the breakers at the northern end of the reef.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Now, lads, take your places at the sheets,
ready to haul or let go as I give the word.&rdquo;
So saying, Tom Virtue took his place in the bow, holding
on by the forestay.</p>

<p>The wind was full on the <i>Seabird&rsquo;s</i> beam
as she entered the broken water. Here and there the
dark heads of the rocks showed above the water. These
were easy enough to avoid, the danger lay in those
hidden beneath its surface, and whose position was
indicated only by the occasional break of a sea as
it passed over them. Every time the <i>Seabird</i>
sank on a wave those on board involuntarily held their
breath, but the water here was comparatively smooth,
the sea having spent its first force upon the outer
reef. With a wave of his hand Tom directed the helmsman
as to his course, and the little yacht was admirably
handled through the dangers.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I begin to think we shall do it,&rdquo; Tom
said to Jack Harvey, who was standing close to him.
&ldquo;Another five minutes and we shall be within
reach of her.&rdquo;</p>

<p>It could be seen now that there was a group of people
clustered in the bow of the wreck. Two or three light
lines were coiled in readiness for throwing.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Now, Watkins,&rdquo; Tom said, going aft, &ldquo;make
straight for the wreck. I see no broken water between
us and them, and possibly there may be deep water
under their bow.&rdquo;</p>

<p>It was an anxious moment, as, with the sails flattened
in, the yawl forged up nearly in the eye of the wind
towards the wreck. Her progress was slow, for she
was now stemming the current.</p>

<p>Tom stood with a coil of line in his hand in the bow.</p>

<p>&ldquo;You get ready to throw, Jack, if I miss.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Nearer and nearer the yacht approached the wreck,
until the bowsprit of the latter seemed to stand almost
over her. Then Tom threw the line. It fell over the
bowsprit, and a cheer broke from those on board the
wreck and from the sailors of the <i>Seabird</i>.
A stronger line was at once fastened to that thrown,
and to this a strong hawser was attached.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Down with the helm, Watkins. Now, lads, lower
away the try-sail as fast as you can. Now, one of
you, clear that hawser as they haul on it. Now out
with the anchors.&rdquo;</p>

<p>These had been got into readiness; it was not thought
that they would get any hold on the rocky bottom,
still they might catch on a projecting ledge, and
at any rate their weight and that of the chain cable
would relieve the strain upon the hawser.</p>

<p>Two sailors had run out on the bowsprit of the wreck
as soon as the line was thrown, and the end of the
hawser was now on board the steamer.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Thank God, there&rsquo;s Grantham!&rdquo; Jack
Harvey exclaimed; &ldquo;do you see him waving his
hand?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I see him,&rdquo; Tom said, &ldquo;but I don&rsquo;t
see the ladies.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;They are there, no doubt,&rdquo; Jack said,
confidently; &ldquo;crouching down, I expect. He would
not be there if they weren&rsquo;t, you may be sure.
Yes, there they are; those two muffled-up figures.
There, one of them has thrown back her cloak and is
waving her arm.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The two young men waved their caps.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Are the anchors holding, Watkins? There&rsquo;s
a tremendous strain on that hawser.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I think so, sir; they are both tight.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Put them round the windlass, and give a turn
or two, we must relieve the strain on that hawser.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Since they had first seen the wreck the waves had
made great progress in the work of destruction, and
the steamer had broken in two just aft of the engines.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Get over the spare spars, Watkins, and fasten
them to float in front of her bows like a triangle.
Matthews, catch hold of that boat-hook and try to
fend off any piece of timber that comes along. You
get hold of the sweeps, lads, and do the same. They
would stave her in like a nut-shell if they struck
her.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Thank God, here comes the first of them!&rdquo;</p>

<p>Those on board the steamer had not been idle. As soon
as the yawl was seen approaching slings were prepared,
and no sooner was the hawser securely fixed, than
the slings were attached to it and a woman placed
in them. The hawser was tight and the descent sharp,
and without a check the figure ran down to the deck
of the <i>Seabird</i>. She was lifted out of the slings
by Tom and Jack Harvey, who found she was an old woman
and had entirely lost consciousness.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Two of you carry her down below; tell Johnson
to pour a little brandy down her throat. Give her
some hot soup as soon as she comes to.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Another woman was lowered and helped below. The next
to descend was Mrs. Grantham.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Thank God, you are rescued!&rdquo; Tom said,
as he helped her out of the sling.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Thank God, indeed,&rdquo; Mrs. Grantham said,
&ldquo;and thank you all! Oh, Tom, we have had a terrible
time of it, and had lost all hope till we saw your
sail, and even then the captain said that he was afraid
nothing could be done. Minnie was the first to make
out it was you, and then we began to hope. She has
been so brave, dear girl. Ah! here she comes.&rdquo;</p>

<p>But Minnie&rsquo;s firmness came to an end now that
she felt the need for it was over. She was unable
to stand when she was lifted from the slings, and
Tom carried her below.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Are there any more women, Mrs. Grantham?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;No; there was only one other lady passenger
and the stewardess.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Then you had better take possession of your
own cabin. I ordered Johnson to spread a couple more
mattresses and some bedding on the floor, so you will
all four be able to turn in. There&rsquo;s plenty of
hot coffee and soup. I should advise soup with two
or three spoonfuls of brandy in it. Now, excuse me;
I must go upon deck.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Twelve men descended by the hawser, one of them with
both legs broken by the fall of the mizzen. The last
to come was the captain.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Is that all?&rdquo; Tom asked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;That is all,&rdquo; the captain said. &ldquo;Six
men were swept overboard when she first struck, and
two were killed by the fall of the funnel. Fortunately
we had only three gentlemen passengers and three ladies
on board. The weather looked so wild when we started
that no one else cared about making the passage. God
bless you, sir, for what you have done! Another half-hour
and it would have been all over with us. But it seems
like a miracle your getting safe through the rocks
to us.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;It was fortunate indeed that we came along,&rdquo;
Tom said; &ldquo;three of the passengers are dear
friends of mine; and as it was by my persuasion that
they came across in the steamer instead of in the yacht,
I should never have forgiven myself if they had been
lost. Take all your men below, captain; you will find
plenty of hot soup there. Now, Watkins, let us be
off; that steamer won&rsquo;t hold together many minutes
longer, so there&rsquo;s no time to lose. We will
go back as we came. Give me a hatchet. Now, lads,
two of you stand at the chain-cables; knock out the
shackles the moment I cut the hawser. Watkins, you
take the helm and let her head pay off till the jib
fills. Jack, you lend a hand to the other two, and
get up the try-sail again as soon as we are free.&rdquo;</p>

<p>In a moment all were at their stations. The helm was
put on the yacht, and she payed off on the opposite
tack to that on which she had before been sailing.
As soon as the jib filled, Tom gave two vigorous blows
with his hatchet on the hawser, and, as he lifted his
hand for a third, it parted. Then came the sharp rattle
of the chains as they ran round the hawser-holes.
The try-sail was hoisted and sheeted home, and the
<i>Seabird</i> was under way again. Tom, as before,
conned the ship from the bow. Several times she was
in close proximity to the rocks, but each time she
avoided them. A shout of gladness rose from all on
deck as she passed the last patch of white water.
Then she tacked and bore away for Jersey.</p>

<p>Tom had now time to go down below and look after his
passengers. They consisted of the captain and two
sailors&ndash;the sole survivors of those who had been
on deck when the vessel struck&ndash;three male passengers,
and six engineers and stokers.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I have not had time to shake you by the hand
before, Tom,&rdquo; Grantham said, as Tom Virtue entered;
&ldquo;and I thought you would not want me on deck
at present. God bless you, old fellow! we all owe you
our lives.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;How did it happen, captain?&rdquo; Tom asked,
as the captain also came up to him.</p>

<p>&ldquo;It was the currents, I suppose,&rdquo; the
captain said; &ldquo;it was so thick we could not
see a quarter of a mile any way. The weather was so
wild I would not put into Guernsey, and passed the
island without seeing it. I steered my usual course,
but the gale must have altered the currents, for I
thought I was three miles away from the reef, when
we saw it on our beam, not a hundred yards away. It
was too late to avoid it then, and in another minute
we ran upon it, and the waves were sweeping over us.
Every one behaved well. I got all, except those who
had been swept overboard or crushed by the funnel,
up into the bow of the ship, and there we waited.
There was nothing to be done. No boat would live for
a moment in the sea on that reef, and all I could
advise was, that when she went to pieces every one
should try to get hold of a floating fragment; but
I doubt whether a man would have been alive a quarter
of an hour after she went to pieces.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Perhaps, captain, you will come on deck with
me and give me the benefit of your advice. My skipper
and I know the islands pretty well, but no doubt you
know them a good deal better, and I don&rsquo;t want
another mishap.&rdquo;</p>

<p>But the <i>Seabird</i> avoided all further dangers,
and as it became dark, the lights of St. Helier&rsquo;s
were in sight, and an hour later the yacht brought
up in the port and landed her involuntary passengers.</p>

<p>A fortnight afterwards the <i>Seabird</i> returned
to England, and two months later Mrs. Grantham had
the satisfaction of being present at the ceremony
which was the successful consummation of her little
scheme in inviting Minnie Graham to be her companion
on board the <i>Seabird</i>.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Well, my dear,&rdquo; her husband said, when
she indulged in a little natural triumph, &ldquo;I
do not say that it has not turned out well, and I am
heartily glad for both Tom and Minnie&rsquo;s sake
it has so; but you must allow that it very nearly
had a disastrous ending, and I think if I were you
I should leave matters to take their natural course
in future. I have accepted Tom&rsquo;s invitation
for the same party to take a cruise in the <i>Seabird</i>
next summer, but I have bargained that next time a
storm is brewing up we shall stop quietly in port.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s all very well, James,&rdquo; Mrs.
Grantham said saucily; &ldquo;but you must remember
that Tom Virtue will only be first-mate of the <i>Seabird</i>
in future.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;That I shall be able to tell you better, my
dear, after our next cruise. All husbands are not
as docile and easily led as I am.&rdquo;</p>

<h1><a name="story_03"></a>A Pipe of Mystery</h1>

<p>A jovial party were gathered round a blazing fire
in an old grange near Warwick. The hour was getting
late; the very little ones had, after dancing round
the Christmas-tree, enjoying the snapdragon, and playing
a variety of games, gone off to bed; and the elder
boys and girls now gathered round their uncle, Colonel
Harley, and asked him for a story&ndash;above all, a ghost
story.</p>

<p>&ldquo;But I have never seen any ghosts,&rdquo; the
colonel said, laughing; &ldquo;and, moreover, I don&rsquo;t
believe in them one bit. I have travelled pretty well
all over the world, I have slept in houses said to
be haunted, but nothing have I seen&ndash;no noises that
could not be accounted for by rats or the wind have
I ever heard. I have never&rdquo;&ndash;and here he paused&ndash;&ldquo;never
but once met with any circumstances or occurrence that
could not be accounted for by the light of reason,
and I know you prefer hearing stories of my own adventures
to mere invention.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, uncle. But what was the &lsquo;once&rsquo;
when circumstances happened that you could not explain?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s rather a long story,&rdquo; the
colonel said, &ldquo;and it&rsquo;s getting late.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Oh! no, no, uncle; it does not matter a bit
how late we sit up on Christmas Eve, and the longer
the story is, the better; and if you don&rsquo;t believe
in ghosts, how can it be a story of something you could
not account for by the light of nature?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;You will see when I have done,&rdquo; the colonel
said. &ldquo;It is rather a story of what the Scotch
call second sight, than one of ghosts. As to accounting
for it, you shall form your own opinion when you have
heard me to the end.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I landed in India in &rsquo;50, and after going
through the regular drill work, marched with a detachment
up country to join my regiment, which was stationed
at Jubbalpore, in the very heart of India. It has become
an important place since; the railroad across India
passes through it, and no end of changes have taken
place; but at that time it was one of the most out-of-the-way
stations in India, and, I may say, one of the most
pleasant. It lay high, there was capital boating on
the Nerbudda, and, above all, it was a grand place
for sport, for it lay at the foot of the hill country,
an immense district, then but little known, covered
with forests and jungle, and abounding with big game
of all kinds.</p>

<p>&ldquo;My great friend there was a man named Simmonds.
He was just of my own standing; we had come out in
the same ship, had marched up the country together,
and were almost like brothers. He was an old Etonian,
I an old Westminster, and we were both fond of boating,
and, indeed, of sport of all kinds. But I am not going
to tell you of that now. The people in these hills
are called Gonds, a true hill tribe&ndash;that is to say,
aborigines, somewhat of the negro type. The chiefs
are of mixed blood, but the people are almost black.
They are supposed to accept the religion of the Hindus,
but are in reality deplorably ignorant and superstitious.
Their priests are a sort of compound of a Brahmin priest
and a negro fetish man, and among their principal duties
is that of charming away tigers from the villages
by means of incantations. There, as in other parts
of India, were a few wandering fakirs, who enjoyed
an immense reputation for holiness and wisdom. The
people would go to them from great distances for charms
or predictions, and believed in their power with implicit
faith.</p>

<p>&ldquo;At the time when we were at Jubbalpore, there
was one of these fellows, whose reputation altogether
eclipsed that of his rivals, and nothing could be
done until his permission had been asked and his blessing
obtained. All sorts of marvellous stories were constantly
coming to our ears of the unerring foresight with
which he predicted the termination of diseases, both
in men and animals; and so generally was he believed
in that the colonel ordered that no one connected with
the regiment should consult him, for these predictions
very frequently brought about their own fulfilment;
for those who were told that an illness would terminate
fatally, lost all hope, and literally lay down to die.</p>

<p>&ldquo;However, many of the stories that we heard
could not be explained on these grounds, and the fakir
and his doings were often talked over at mess, some
of the officers scoffing at the whole business, others
maintaining that some of these fakirs had, in some
way or another, the power of foretelling the future,
citing many well authenticated anecdotes upon the
subject.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The older officers were the believers, we young
fellows were the scoffers. But for the well-known
fact that it is very seldom indeed that these fakirs
will utter any of their predictions to Europeans, some
of us would have gone to him, to test his powers.
As it was, none of us had ever seen him.</p>

<p>&ldquo;He lived in an old ruined temple, in the middle
of a large patch of jungle at the foot of the hills,
some ten or twelve miles away.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I had been at Jubbalpore about a year, when
I was woke up one night by a native, who came in to
say that at about eight o&rsquo;clock a tiger had
killed a man in his village, and had dragged off the
body.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Simmonds and I were constantly out after tigers,
and the people in all the villages within twenty miles
knew that we were always ready to pay for early information.
This tiger had been doing great damage, and had carried
off about thirty men, women, and children. So great
was the fear of him, indeed, that the people in the
neighbourhood he frequented scarcely dared stir out
of doors, except in parties of five or six. We had
had several hunts after him, but, like all man-eaters,
he was old and awfully crafty; and although we got
several snap shots at him, he had always managed to
save his skin.</p>

<p>&ldquo;In a quarter of an hour after the receipt of
the message, Charley Simmonds and I were on the back
of an elephant, which was our joint property, our
shekarry, a capital fellow, was on foot beside us,
and with the native trotting on ahead as guide we
went off at the best pace of old Begaum, for that
was the elephant&rsquo;s name. The village was fifteen
miles away, but we got there soon after daybreak, and
were received with delight by the population. In half
an hour the hunt was organized; all the male population
turned out as beaters, with sticks, guns, tom-toms,
and other instruments for making a noise.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The trail was not difficult to find. A broad
path, with occasional smears of blood, showed where
he had dragged his victim through the long grass to
a cluster of trees a couple of hundred yards from the
village.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We scarcely expected to find him there, but
the villagers held back, while we went forward with
cocked rifles. We found, however, nothing but a few
bones and a quantity of blood The tiger had made off
at the approach of daylight into the jungle, which
was about two miles distant We traced him easily enough,
and found that he had entered a large ravine, from
which several smaller ones branched off.</p>

<p>&ldquo;It was an awkward place, as it was next to
impossible to surround it with the number of people
at our command. We posted them at last all along the
upper ground, and told them to make up in noise what
they wanted in numbers. At last all was ready, and
we gave the signal. However, I am not telling you
a hunting story, and need only say that we could neither
find nor disturb him. In vain we pushed Begaum through
the thickest of the jungle which clothed the sides,
and bottom of the ravine, while the men shouted, beat
their tom-toms, and showered imprecations against
the tiger himself and his ancestors up to the remotest
generations.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The day was tremendously hot, and, after three
hours&rsquo; march, we gave it up for a time, and
lay down in the shade, while the shekarries made a
long examination of the ground all round the hillside,
to be sure that he had not left the ravine. They came
back with the news that no traces could be discovered,
and that, beyond a doubt, he was still there. A tiger
will crouch up in an exceedingly small clump of grass
or bush, and will sometimes almost allow himself to
be trodden on before moving. However, we determined
to have one more search, and if that should prove
unsuccessful, to send off to Jubbalpore for some more
of the men to come out with elephants, while we kept
up a circle of fires, and of noises of all descriptions,
so as to keep him a prisoner until the arrival of
the reinforcements. Our next search was no more successful
than our first had been; and having, as we imagined,
examined every clump and crevice in which he could
have been concealed, we had just reached the upper
end of the ravine, when we heard a tremendous roar,
followed by a perfect babel of yells and screams from
the natives.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The outburst came from the mouth of the ravine,
and we felt at once that he had escaped. We hurried
back to find, as we had expected, that the tiger was
gone. He had burst out suddenly from his hiding-place,
had seized a native, torn him horribly, and had made
across the open plain.</p>

<p>&ldquo;This was terribly provoking, but we had nothing
to do but follow him. This was easy enough, and we
traced him to a detached patch of wood and jungle,
two miles distant. This wood was four or five hundred
yards across, and the exclamations of the people at
once told us that it was the one in which stood the
ruined temple of the fakir of whom I have been telling
you. I forgot to say, that as the tiger broke out one
of the village shekarries had fired at, and, he declared,
wounded him.</p>

<p>&ldquo;It was already getting late in the afternoon,
and it was hopeless to attempt to beat the jungle
that night. We therefore sent off a runner with a
note to the colonel, asking him to send the work-elephants,
and to allow a party of volunteers to march over at
night, to help surround the jungle when we commenced
beating it in the morning.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We based our request upon the fact that the
tiger was a notorious man-eater, and had been doing
immense damage. We then had a talk with our shekarry,
sent a man off to bring provisions for the people out
with us, and then set them to work cutting sticks
and grass to make a circle of fires.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We both felt much uneasiness respecting the
fakir, who might be seized at any moment by the enraged
tiger. The natives would not allow that there was
any cause for fear, as the tiger would not dare to
touch so holy a man. Our belief in the respect of
the tiger for sanctity was by no means strong, and
we determined to go in and warn him of the presence
of the brute in the wood. It was a mission which we
could not intrust to anyone else, for no native would
have entered the jungle for untold gold; so we mounted
the Begaum again, and started. The path leading towards
the temple was pretty wide, and as we went along almost
noiselessly, for the elephant was too well trained
to tread upon fallen sticks, it was just possible
we might come upon the tiger suddenly, so we kept
our rifles in readiness in our hands.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Presently we came in sight of the ruins. No
one was at first visible; but at that very moment
the fakir came out from the temple. He did not see
or hear us, for we were rather behind him and still
among the trees, but at once proceeded in a high voice
to break into a sing-song prayer. He had not said
two words before his voice was drowned in a terrific
roar, and in an instant the tiger had sprung upon him,
struck him to the ground, seized him as a cat would
a mouse, and started off with him at a trot. The brute
evidently had not detected our presence, for he came
right towards us. We halted the Begaum, and with our
fingers on the triggers, awaited the favourable moment.
He was a hundred yards from us when he struck down
his victim; he was not more than fifty when he caught
sight of us. He stopped for an instant in surprise.
Charley muttered, &lsquo;Both barrels, Harley,&rsquo;
and as the beast turned to plunge into the jungle,
and so showed us his side, we sent four bullets crashing
into him, and he rolled over lifeless.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We went up to the spot, made the Begaum give
him a kick, to be sure that he was dead, and then
got down to examine the unfortunate fakir. The tiger
had seized him by the shoulder, which was terribly
torn, and the bone broken. He was still perfectly
conscious.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We at once fired three shots, our usual signal
that the tiger was dead, and in a few minutes were
surrounded by the villagers, who hardly knew whether
to be delighted at the death of their enemy, or to
grieve over the injury to the fakir. We proposed taking
the latter to our hospital at Jubbalpore, but this
he positively refused to listen to. However we finally
persuaded him to allow his arm to be set and the wounds
dressed in the first place by our regimental surgeon,
after which he could go to one of the native villages
and have his arm dressed in accordance with his own
notions. A litter was soon improvised, and away we
went to Jubbalpore, which we reached about eight in
the evening.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The fakir refused to enter the hospital, so
we brought out a couple of trestles, laid the litter
upon them, and the surgeon set his arm and dressed
his wounds by torch-light, when he was lifted into
a dhoolie, and his bearers again prepared to start
for the village.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Hitherto he had only spoken a few words; but
he now briefly expressed his deep gratitude to Simmonds
and myself. We told him that we would ride over to
see him shortly, and hoped to find him getting on
rapidly. Another minute and he was gone.</p>

<p>&ldquo;It happened that we had three or four fellows
away on leave or on staff duty, and several others
knocked up with fever just about this time, so that
the duty fell very heavily upon the rest of us, and
it was over a month before we had time to ride over
to see the fakir.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We had heard he was going on well; but we were
surprised, on reaching the village, to find that he
had already returned to his old abode in the jungle.
However, we had made up our minds to see him, especially
as we had agreed that we would endeavour to persuade
him to do a prediction for us, so we turned our horses&rsquo;
heads towards the jungle. We found the fakir sitting
on a rock in front of the temple, just where he had
been seized by the tiger. He rose as we rode up.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;I knew that you would come to-day, sahibs,
and was joyful in the thought of seeing those who
have preserved my life.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;We are glad to see you looking pretty
strong again, though your arm is still in a sling,&rsquo;
I said, for Simmonds was not strong in Hindustani.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;How did you know that we were coming?&rsquo;
I asked, when we had tied up our horses.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Siva has given to his servant to know
many things,&rsquo; he said quietly.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Did you know beforehand that the tiger
was going to seize you?&rsquo; I asked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;I knew that a great danger threatened,
and that Siva would not let me die before my time
had come.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Could you see into our future?&rsquo;
I asked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The fakir hesitated, looked at me for a moment
earnestly to see if I was speaking in mockery, and
then said:</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;The sahibs do not believe in the power
of Siva or of his servants. They call his messengers
impostors, and scoff at them when they speak of the
events of the future.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;No, indeed,&rsquo; I said. &rsquo;My
friend and I have no idea of scoffing. We have heard
of so many of your predictions coming true, that we
are really anxious that you should tell us something
of the future.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;The fakir nodded his head, went into the temple,
and returned in a minute or two with two small pipes
used by the natives for opium-smoking, and a brazier
of burning charcoal. The pipes were already charged.
He made signs to us to sit down, and took his place
in front of us. Then he began singing in a low voice,
rocking himself to and fro, and waving a staff which
he held in his hand. Gradually his voice rose, and
his gesticulations and actions became more violent.
So far as I could make out, it was a prayer to Siva
that he would give some glimpse of the future which
might benefit the sahibs who had saved the life of
his servant. Presently he darted forward, gave us each
a pipe, took two pieces of red-hot charcoal from the
brazier in his fingers, without seeming to know that
they were warm, and placed them in the pipes; then
he recommenced his singing and gesticulations.</p>

<p>&ldquo;A glance at Charley, to see if, like myself,
he was ready to carry the thing through, and then
I put the pipe to my lips. I felt at once that it
was opium, of which I had before made experiment, but
mixed with some other substance, which was, I imagine,
haschish, a preparation of hemp. A few puffs, and
I felt a drowsiness creeping over me. I saw, as through
a mist, the fakir swaying himself backwards and forwards,
his arms waving, and his face distorted. Another minute,
and the pipe slipped from my fingers, and I fell back
insensible.</p>

<p>&ldquo;How long I lay there I do not know. I woke
with a strange and not unpleasant sensation, and presently
became conscious that the fakir was gently pressing,
with a sort of shampooing action, my temples and head.
When he saw that I opened my eyes he left me, and performed
the same process upon Charley. In a few minutes he
rose from his stooping position, waved his hand in
token of adieu, and walked slowly back into the temple.</p>

<p>&ldquo;As he disappeared I sat up; Charley did the
same.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We stared at each other for a minute without
speaking, and then Charley said:</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;This is a rum go, and no mistake, old
man.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;You&rsquo;re right, Charley. My opinion
is, we&rsquo;ve made fools of ourselves. Let&rsquo;s
be off out of this.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;We staggered to our feet, for we both felt
like drunken men, made our way to our horses, poured
a mussuk of water over our heads, took a drink of
brandy from our flasks, and then feeling more like
ourselves, mounted and rode out of the jungle.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Well, Harley, if the glimpse of futurity
which I had is true, all I can say is that it was
extremely unpleasant.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;That was just my case, Charley.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;My dream, or whatever you like to call
it, was about a mutiny of the men.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;You don&rsquo;t say so, Charley; so
was mine. This is monstrously strange, to say the
least of it. However, you tell your story first, and
then I will tell mine.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;It was very short,&rsquo; Charley said.
&rsquo;We were at mess&ndash;not in our present mess-room&ndash;we
were dining with the fellows of some other regiment.
Suddenly, without any warning, the windows were filled
with a crowd of Sepoys, who opened fire right and
left into us. Half the fellows were shot down at once;
the rest of us made a rush to our swords just as the
niggers came swarming into the room. There was a desperate
fight for a moment. I remember that Subadar Pir&aacute;n&ndash;one
of the best native officers in the regiment, by the
way&ndash;made a rush at me, and I shot him through the
head with a revolver. At the same moment a ball hit
me, and down I went. At the moment a Sepoy fell dead
across me, hiding me partly from sight. The fight
lasted a minute or two longer. I fancy a few fellows
escaped, for I heard shots outside. Then the place
became quiet. In another minute I heard a crackling,
and saw that the devils had set the mess-room on fire.
One of our men, who was lying close by me, got up and
crawled to the window, but he was shot down the moment
he showed himself. I was hesitating whether to do
the same or to lie still and be smothered, when suddenly
I rolled the dead sepoy off, crawled into the ante-room
half-suffocated by smoke, raised the lid of a very
heavy trap-door, and stumbled down some steps into
a place, half store-house half cellar, under the mess-room.
How I knew about it being there I don&rsquo;t know.
The trap closed over my head with a bang. That is all
I remember.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Well, Charley, curiously enough my dream
was also about an extraordinary escape from danger,
lasting, like yours, only a minute or two. The first
thing I remember&ndash;there seems to have been something
before, but what, I don&rsquo;t know&ndash;I was on horseback,
holding a very pretty but awfully pale girl in front
of me. We were pursued by a whole troop of Sepoy cavalry,
who were firing pistol-shots at us. We were not more
than seventy or eighty yards in front, and they were
gaining fast, just as I rode into a large deserted
temple. In the centre was a huge stone figure. I jumped
off my horse with the lady, and as I did so she said,
&rsquo;Blow out my brains, Edward; don&rsquo;t let
me fall alive into their hands.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Instead of answering, I hurried her
round behind the idol, pushed against one of the leaves
of a flower in the carving, and the stone swung back,
and showed a hole just large enough to get through,
with a stone staircase inside the body of the idol,
made no doubt for the priest to go up and give responses
through the mouth. I hurried the girl through, crept
in after her, and closed the stone, just as our pursuers
came clattering into the courtyard. That is all I remember.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Well, it is monstrously rum,&rsquo;
Charley said, after a pause. &rsquo;Did you understand
what the old fellow was singing about before he gave
us the pipes?&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Yes; I caught the general drift. It
was an entreaty to Siva to give us some glimpse of
futurity which might benefit us.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;We lit our cheroots and rode for some miles
at a brisk canter without remark. When we were within
a short distance of home we reined up.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;I feel ever so much better,&rsquo; Charley
said. &rsquo;We have got that opium out of our heads
now. How do you account for it all, Harley?&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;I account for it in this way, Charley.
The opium naturally had the effect of making us both
dream, and as we took similar doses of the same mixture,
under similar circumstances, it is scarcely extraordinary
that it should have effected the same portion of the
brain, and caused a certain similarity in our dreams.
In all nightmares something terrible happens, or is
on the point of happening; and so it was here. Not
unnaturally in both our cases, our thoughts turned
to soldiers. If you remember there was a talk at mess
some little time since, as to what would happen in
the extremely unlikely event of the sepoys mutinying
in a body. I have no doubt that was the foundation
of both our dreams. It is all natural enough when
we come to think it over calmly. I think, by the way,
we had better agree to say nothing at all about it
in the regiment.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;I should think not,&rsquo; Charley said.
&rsquo;We should never hear the end of it; they would
chaff us out of our lives.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;We kept our secret, and came at last to laugh
over it heartily when we were together. Then the subject
dropped, and by the end of a year had as much escaped
our minds as any other dream would have done. Three
months after the affair the regiment was ordered down
to Allahabad, and the change of place no doubt helped
to erase all memory of the dream. Four years after
we had left Jubbalpore we went to Beerapore. The time
is very marked in my memory, because the very week
we arrived there, your aunt, then Miss Gardiner, came
out from England, to her father, our colonel. The
instant I saw her I was impressed with the idea that
I knew her intimately. I recollected her face, her
figure, and the very tone of her voice, but wherever
I had met her I could not conceive. Upon the occasion
of my first introduction to her, I could not help telling
her that I was convinced that we had met, and asking
her if she did not remember it. No, she did not remember,
but very likely she might have done so, and she suggested
the names of several people at whose houses we might
have met. I did not know any of them. Presently she
asked how long I had been out in India?</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Six years,&rsquo; I said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;And how old, Mr. Harley,&rsquo; she
said, &lsquo;do you take me to be?&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I saw in one instant my stupidity, and was
stammering out an apology, when she went on,&ndash;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;I am very little over eighteen, Mr.
Harley, although I evidently look ever so many years
older, but papa can certify to my age, so I was only
twelve when you left England.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I tried in vain to clear matters up. Your aunt
would insist that I took her to be forty, and the
fun that my blunder made rather drew us together,
and gave me a start over the other fellows at the station,
half of whom fell straightway in love with her. Some
months went on, and when the mutiny broke out we were
engaged to be married. It is a proof of how completely
the opium-dreams had passed out of the minds of both
Simmonds and myself, that even when rumours of general
disaffection among the Sepoys began to be current,
they never once recurred to us; and even when the
news of the actual mutiny reached us, we were just
as confident as were the others of the fidelity of
our own regiment. It was the old story, foolish confidence
and black treachery. As at very many other stations,
the mutiny broke out when we were at mess. Our regiment
was dining with the 34th Bengalees. Suddenly, just
as dinner was over, the window was opened, and a tremendous
fire poured in. Four or five men fell dead at once,
and the poor colonel, who was next to me, was shot
right through the head. Every one rushed to his sword
and drew his pistol&ndash;for we had been ordered to carry
pistols as part of our uniform. I was next to Charley
Simmonds as the Sepoys of both regiments, headed by
Subadar Pir&aacute;n, poured in at the windows.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;I have it now,&rsquo; Charley said;
&lsquo;it is the scene I dreamed.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;As he spoke he fired his revolver at the subadar,
who fell dead in his tracks.</p>

<p>&ldquo;A Sepoy close by levelled his musket and fired.
Charley fell, and the fellow rushed forward to bayonet
him. As he did so I sent a bullet through his head,
and he fell across Charley. It was a wild fight for
a minute or two, and then a few of us made a sudden
rush together, cut our way through the mutineers,
and darted through an open window on to the parade.
There were shouts, shots, and screams from the officers&rsquo;
bungalows, and in several places flames were already
rising. What became of the other men I knew not, I
made as hard as I could tear for the colonel&rsquo;s
bungalow. Suddenly I came upon a sowar sitting on his
horse watching the rising flames. Before he saw me
I was on him, and ran him through. I leapt on his
horse and galloped down to Gardiner&rsquo;s compound.
I saw lots of Sepoys in and around the bungalow, all
engaged in looting. I dashed into the compound.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;May! May&rdquo;! I shouted. &lsquo;Where
are you?&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I had scarcely spoken before a dark figure
rushed out of a clump of bushes close by with a scream
of delight.</p>

<p>&ldquo;In an instant she was on the horse before me,
and shooting down a couple of fellows who made a rush
at my reins, I dashed out again. Stray shots were
fired after us. But fortunately the Sepoys were all
busy looting, most of them had laid down their muskets,
and no one really took up the pursuit. I turned off
from the parade-ground, dashed down between the hedges
of two compounds, and in another minute we were in
the open country.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Fortunately, the cavalry were all down looting
their own lines, or we must have been overtaken at
once. May happily had fainted as I lifted her on to
my horse&ndash;happily, because the fearful screams that
we heard from the various bungalows almost drove me
mad, and would probably have killed her, for the poor
ladies were all her intimate friends.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I rode on for some hours, till I felt quite
safe from any immediate pursuit, and then we halted
in the shelter of a clump of trees.</p>

<p>&ldquo;By this time I had heard May&rsquo;s story.
She had felt uneasy at being alone, but had laughed
at herself for being so, until upon her speaking to
one of the servants he had answered in a tone of gross
insolence, which had astonished her. She at once guessed
that there was danger, and the moment that she was
alone caught up a large, dark carriage rug, wrapped
it round her so as to conceal her white dress, and
stole out into the verandah. The night was dark, and
scarcely had she left the house than she heard a burst
of firing across at the mess-house. She at once ran
in among the bushes and crouched there, as she heard
the rush of men into the room she had just left. She
heard them searching for her, but they were looking
for a white dress, and her dark rug saved her. What
she must have suffered in the five minutes between
the firing of the first shots and my arrival, she
only knows. May had spoken but very little since we
started. I believe that she was certain that her father
was dead, although I had given an evasive answer when
she asked me; and her terrible sense of loss, added
to the horror of that time of suspense in the garden,
had completely stunned her. We waited in the tope
until the afternoon, and then set out again.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We had gone but a short distance when we saw
a body of the rebel cavalry in pursuit. They had no
doubt been scouring the country generally, and the
discovery was accidental. For a short time we kept
away from them, but this could not be for long, as
our horse was carrying double. I made for a sort of
ruin I saw at the foot of a hill half a mile away.
I did so with no idea of the possibility of concealment.
My intention was simply to get my back to a rock and
to sell my life as dearly as I could, keeping the
last two barrels of the revolver for ourselves. Certainly
no remembrance of my dream influenced me in any way,
and in the wild whirl of excitement I had not given
a second thought to Charley Simmonds&rsquo; exclamation.
As we rode up to the ruins only a hundred yards ahead
of us, May said,&ndash;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Blow out my brains, Edward; don&rsquo;t
let me fall alive into their hands.&rsquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;A shock of remembrance shot across me. The
chase, her pale face, the words, the temple&ndash;all my
dream rushed into my mind.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;We are saved,&rsquo; I cried, to her
amazement, as we rode into the courtyard, in whose
centre a great figure was sitting.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I leapt from the horse, snatched the mussuk
of water from the saddle, and then hurried May round
the idol, between which and the rock behind, there
was but just room to get along.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Not a doubt entered my mind but that I should
find the spring as I had dreamed. Sure enough there
was the carving, fresh upon my memory as if I had
seen it but the day before. I placed my hand on the
leaflet without hesitation, a solid stone moved back,
I hurried my amazed companion in, and shut to the
stone. I found, and shot to, a massive bolt, evidently
placed to prevent the door being opened by accident
or design when anyone was in the idol.</p>

<p>&ldquo;At first it seemed quite dark, but a faint
light streamed in from above; we made our way up the
stairs, and found that the light came through a number
of small holes pierced in the upper part of the head,
and through still smaller holes lower down, not much
larger than a good-sized knitting-needle could pass
through. These holes, we afterwards found, were in
the ornaments round the idol&rsquo;s neck. The holes
enlarged inside, and enabled us to have a view all
round.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The mutineers were furious at our disappearance,
and for hours searched about. Then, saying that we
must be hidden somewhere, and that they would wait
till we came out, they proceeded to bivouac in the
courtyard of the temple.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We passed four terrible days, but on the morning
of the fifth a scout came in to tell the rebels that
a column of British troops marching on Delhi would
pass close by the temple. They therefore hastily mounted
and galloped off.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Three quarters of an hour later we were safe
among our own people. A fortnight afterwards your
aunt and I were married. It was no time for ceremony
then; there were no means of sending her away; no place
where she could have waited until the time for her
mourning for her father was over. So we were married
quietly by one of the chaplains of the troops, and,
as your story-books say, have lived very happily ever
after.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;And how about Mr. Simmonds, uncle? Did he get
safe off too?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, his dream came as vividly to his mind
as mine had done. He crawled to the place where he
knew the trap-door would be, and got into the cellar.
Fortunately for him there were plenty of eatables there,
and he lived there in concealment for a fortnight.
After that he crawled out, and found the mutineers
had marched for Delhi. He went through a lot, but
at last joined us before that city. We often talked
over our dreams together, and there was no question
that we owed our lives to them. Even then we did not
talk much to other people about them, for there would
have been a lot of talk, and inquiry, and questions,
and you know fellows hate that sort of thing. So we
held our tongues. Poor Charley&rsquo;s silence was
sealed a year later at Lucknow, for on the advance
with Lord Clyde he was killed.</p>

<p>&ldquo;And now, boys and girls, you must run off to
bed. Five minutes more and it will be Christmas-day
So you see, Frank, that although I don&rsquo;t believe
in ghosts, I have yet met with a circumstance which
I cannot account for.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;It is very curious anyhow, uncle, and beats
ghost stories into fits.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I like it better, certainly,&rdquo; one of
the girls said, &ldquo;for we can go to bed without
being afraid of dreaming about it.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Well, you must not talk any more now Off to
bed, off to bed,&rdquo; Colonel Harley said, &ldquo;or
I shall get into terrible disgrace with your fathers
and mothers, who have been looking very gravely at
me for the last three quarters of an hour.&rdquo;</p>

<h1><a name="story_04"></a>White-Faced Dick</h1>

<h2>A Story of Pine-Tree Gulch.</h2>

<p>How Pine-tree Gulch got its name no one knew, for
in the early days every ravine and hillside was thickly
covered with pines. It may be that a tree of exceptional
size caught the eye of the first explorer, that he
camped under it, and named the place in its honour;
or, may be, some fallen giant lay in the bottom and
hindered the work of the first prospectors. At any
rate, Pine-tree Gulch it was, and the name was as
good as any other. The pine-trees were gone now. Cut
up for firing, or for the erection of huts, or the
construction of sluices, but the hillside was ragged
with their stumps.</p>

<p>The principal camp was at the mouth of the Gulch,
where the little stream, which scarce afforded water
sufficient for the cradles in the dry season, but
which was a rushing torrent in winter, joined the
Yuba. The best ground was at the junction of the streams,
and lay, indeed, in the Yuba valley rather than in
the Gulch. At first most gold had been found higher
up, but there was here comparatively little depth
down to the bed-rock, and as the ground became exhausted
the miners moved down towards the mouth of the Gulch.
They were doing well as a whole, how well no one knew,
for miners are chary of giving information as to what
they are making; still, it was certain they were doing
well, for the bars were doing a roaring trade, and
the store-keepers never refused credit&ndash;a proof in
itself that the prospects were good.</p>

<p>The flat at the mouth of the Gulch was a busy scene,
every foot was good paying stuff, for in the eddy,
where the torrents in winter rushed down into the
Yuba, the gold had settled down and lay thick among
the gravel. But most of the parties were sinking,
and it was a long way down to the bed-rock; for the
hills on both sides sloped steeply, and the Yuba must
here at one time have rushed through a narrow gorge,
until, in some wild freak, it brought down millions
of tons of gravel, and resumed its course seventy
feet above its former level.</p>

<p>A quarter of a mile higher up a ledge of rock ran
across the valley, and over it in the old time the
Yuba had poured in a cascade seventy feet deep into
the ravine. But the rock now was level with the gravel,
only showing its jagged points here and there above
it. This ledge had been invaluable to the diggers:
without it they could only have sunk their shafts
with the greatest difficulty, for the gravel would
have been full of water, and even with the greatest
pains in puddling and timber-work the pumps would
scarcely have sufficed to keep it down as it rose in
the bottom of the shafts. But the miners had made
common cause together, and giving each so many ounces
of gold or so many day&rsquo;s work had erected a
dam thirty feet high along the ledge of rock, and had
cut a channel for the Yuba along the lower slopes
of the valley. Of course, when the rain set in, as
everybody knew, the dam would go, and the river diggings
must be abandoned till the water subsided and a fresh
dam was made; but there were two months before them
yet, and every one hoped to be down to the bed-rock
before the water interrupted their work.</p>

<p>The hillside, both in the Yuba Valley and for some
distance along Pine-tree Gulch, was dotted by shanties
and tents; the former constructed for the most part
of logs roughly squared, the walls being some three
feet in height, on which the sharp sloping roof was
placed, thatched in the first place with boughs, and
made all snug, perhaps, with an old sail stretched
over all. The camp was quiet enough during the day.
The few women were away with their washing at the pools,
a quarter of a mile up the Gulch, and the only persons
to be seen about were the men told off for cooking
for their respective parties.</p>

<p>But in the evening the camp was lively. Groups of
men in red shirts and corded trousers tied at the
knee, in high boots, sat round blazing fires, and
talked of their prospects or discussed the news of
the luck at other camps. The sound of music came from
two or three plank erections which rose conspicuously
above the huts of the diggers, and were bright externally
with the glories of white and coloured paints. To
and from these men were always sauntering, and it needed
not the clink of glasses and the sound of music to
tell that they were the bars of the camp.</p>

<p>Here, standing at the counter, or seated at numerous
small tables, men were drinking villainous liquor,
smoking and talking, and paying but scant attention
to the strains of the fiddle or the accordion, save
when some well-known air was played, when all would
join in a boisterous chorus. Some were always passing
in or out of a door which led into a room behind.
Here there was comparative quiet, for men were gambling,
and gambling high.</p>

<p>Going backwards and forwards with liquors into the
gambling-room of the Imperial Saloon, which stood
just where Pine-tree Gulch opened into Yuba valley,
was a lad, whose appearance had earned for him the
name of White-faced Dick.</p>

<p>White-faced Dick was not one of those who had done
well at Pine-tree Gulch; he had come across the plains
with his father, who had died when half-way over,
and Dick had been thrown on the world to shift for
himself. Nature had not intended him for the work,
for he was a delicate, timid lad; what spirits he
originally had having been years before beaten out
of him by a brutal father. So far, indeed, Dick was
the better rather than the worse for the event which
had left him an orphan.</p>

<p>They had been travelling with a large party for mutual
security against Indians and Mormons, and so long
as the journey lasted Dick had got on fairly well.
He was always ready to do odd jobs, and as the draught
cattle were growing weaker and weaker, and every pound
of weight was of importance, no one grudged him his
rations in return for his services, but when the company
began to descend the slopes of the Sierra Nevada they
began to break up, going off by twos and threes to
the diggings, of which they heard such glowing accounts.
Some, however, kept straight on to Sacramento, determining
there to obtain news as to the doings at all the different
places, and then to choose that which seemed to offer
the best prospects of success.</p>

<p>Dick proceeded with them to the town, and there found
himself alone. His companions were absorbed in the
busy rush of population, and each had so much to provide
and arrange for, that none gave a thought to the solitary
boy. However, at that time no one who had a pair of
hands, however feeble, to work need starve in Sacramento;
and for some weeks Dick hung around the town doing
odd jobs, and then, having saved a few dollars, determined
to try his luck at the diggings, and started on foot
with a shovel on his shoulder and a few day&rsquo;s
provisions slung across it.</p>

<p>Arrived at his destination, the lad soon discovered
that gold-digging was hard work for brawny and seasoned
men, and after a few feeble attempts in spots abandoned
as worthless he gave up the effort, and again began
to drift; and even in Pine-tree Gulch it was not difficult
to get a living. At first he tried rocking cradles,
but the work was far harder than it appeared. He was
standing ankle deep in water from morning till night,
and his cheeks grew paler, and his strength, instead
of increasing, seemed to fade away. Still, there were
jobs within his strength. He could keep a fire alight
and watch a cooking-pot, he could carry up buckets
of water or wash a flannel shirt, and so he struggled
on, until at last some kind-hearted man suggested to
him that he should try to get a place at the new saloon
which was about to be opened.</p>

<p>&ldquo;You are not fit for this work, young &rsquo;un,
and you ought to be at home with your mother; if you
like I will go up with you this evening to Jeffries.
I knew him down on the flats, and I daresay he will
take you on. I don&rsquo;t say as a saloon is a good
place for a boy, still you will always get your bellyful
of victuals and a dry place to sleep in, if it&rsquo;s
only under a table. What do you say?&rdquo;</p>

<p>Dick thankfully accepted the offer, and on Red George&rsquo;s
recommendation was that evening engaged. His work
was not hard now, for till the miners knocked off
there was little doing in the saloon; a few men would
come in for a drink at dinner-time, but it was not
until the lamps were lit that business began in earnest,
and then for four or five hours Dick was busy.</p>

<p>A rougher or healthier lad would not have minded the
work, but to Dick it was torture; every nerve in his
body thrilled whenever rough miners cursed him for
not carrying out their orders more quickly, or for
bringing them the wrong liquors, which, as his brain
was in a whirl with the noise, the shouting, and the
multiplicity of orders, happened frequently. He might
have fared worse had not Red George always stood his
friend, and Red George was an authority in Pine-tree
Gulch&ndash;powerful in frame, reckless in bearing and
temper, he had been in a score of fights and had come
off them, if not unscathed, at least victorious. He
was notoriously a lucky digger, but his earnings went
as fast as they were made, and he was always ready
to open his belt and give a bountiful pinch of dust
to any mate down on his luck.</p>

<p>One evening Dick was more helpless and confused than
usual. The saloon was full, and he had been shouted
at and badgered and cursed until he scarcely knew
what he was doing. High play was going on in the saloon,
and a good many men were clustered round the table.
Red George was having a run of luck, and there was
a big pile of gold dust on the table before him. One
of the gamblers who was losing had ordered old rye,
and instead of bringing it to him, Dick brought a
tumbler of hot liquor which someone else had called
for. With an oath the man took it up and threw it
in his face.</p>

<p>&ldquo;You cowardly hound!&rdquo; Red George exclaimed.
&ldquo;Are you man enough to do that to a man?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;You bet,&rdquo; the gambler, who was a new
arrival at Pine-tree Gulch, replied; and picking up
an empty glass, he hurled it at Red George. The by-standers
sprang aside, and in a moment the two men were facing
each other with outstretched pistols. The two reports
rung out simultaneously: Red George sat down unconcernedly
with a streak of blood flowing down his face, where
the bullet had cut a furrow in his cheek; the stranger
fell back with the bullet hole in the centre of his
forehead.</p>

<p>The body was carried outside, and the play continued
as if no interruption had taken place. They were accustomed
to such occurrences in Pine-tree Gulch, and the piece
of ground at the top of the hill, that had been set
aside as a burial place, was already dotted thickly
with graves, filled in almost every instance by men
who had died, in the local phraseology, &ldquo;with
their boots on.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Neither then nor afterwards did Red George allude
to the subject to Dick, whose life after this signal
instance of his championship was easier than it had
hitherto been, for there were few in Pine-tree Gulch
who cared to excite Red George&rsquo;s anger; and strangers
going to the place were sure to receive a friendly
warning that it was best for their health to keep
their tempers over any shortcomings on the part of
White-faced Dick.</p>

<p>Grateful as he was for Red George&rsquo;s interference
on his behalf, Dick felt the circumstance which had
ensued more than anyone else in the camp. With others
it was the subject of five minutes&rsquo; talk, but
Dick could not get out of his head the thought of
the dead man&rsquo;s face as he fell back. He had
seen many such frays before, but he was too full of
his own troubles for them to make much impression upon
him. But in the present case he felt as if he himself
was responsible for the death of the gambler; if he
had not blundered this would not have happened. He
wondered whether the dead man had a wife and children,
and, if so, were they expecting his return? Would
they ever hear where he had died, and how?</p>

<p>But this feeling, which, tired out as he was when
the time came for closing the bar, often prevented
him from sleeping for hours, in no way lessened his
gratitude and devotion towards Red George, and he felt
that he could die willingly if his life would benefit
his champion. Sometimes he thought, too, that his
life would not be much to give, for in spite of shelter
and food, the cough which he had caught while working
in the water still clung to him, and, as his employer
said to him angrily one day&ndash;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Your victuals don&rsquo;t do you no good, Dick;
you get thinner and thinner, and folks will think
as I starve you. Darned if you ain&rsquo;t a disgrace
to the establishment.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The wind was whistling down the gorges, and the clouds
hung among the pine-woods which still clothed the
upper slopes of the hills, and the diggers, as they
turned out one morning, looked up apprehensively.</p>

<p>&ldquo;But it could not be,&rdquo; they assured each
other. Every one knew that the rains were not due
for another month yet; it could only be a passing
shower if it rained at all.</p>

<p>But as the morning went on, men came in from camps
higher up the river, and reports were current that
it had been raining for the last two days among the
upper hills; while those who took the trouble to walk
across to the new channel could see for themselves
at noon that it was filled very nigh to the brim,
the water rushing along with thick and turbid current.
But those who repeated the rumours, or who reported
that the channel was full, were summarily put down.
Men would not believe that such a calamity as a flood
and the destruction of all their season&rsquo;s work
could be impending. There had been some showers, no
doubt, as there had often been before, but it was
ridiculous to talk of anything like rain a month before
its time. Still, in spite of these assertions, there
was uneasiness at Pine-tree Gulch, and men looked at
the driving clouds above and shook their heads before
they went down to the shafts to work after dinner.</p>

<p>When the last customer had left and the bar was closed,
Dick had nothing to do till evening, and he wandered
outside and sat down on a stump, at first looking
at the work going on in the valley, then so absorbed
in his own thoughts that he noticed nothing, not even
the driving mist which presently set in. He was calculating
that he had, with his savings from his wages and what
had been given him by the miners, laid by eighty dollars.
When he got another hundred and twenty he would go;
he would make his way down to San Francisco, and then
by ship to Panama and up to New York, and then west
again to the village where he was born. There would
be people there who would know him, and who would give
him work, for his mother&rsquo;s sake. He did not
care what it was; anything would be better than this.</p>

<p>Then his thoughts came back to Pine-tree Gulch, and
he started to his feet. Could he be mistaken? Were
his eyes deceiving him? No; among the stones and boulders
of the old bed of the Yuba there was the gleam of
water, and even as he watched it he could see it widening
out. He started to run down the hill to give the alarm,
but before he was half-way he paused, for there were
loud shouts, and a scene of bustle and confusion instantly
arose.</p>

<p>The cradles were deserted, and the men working on
the surface loaded themselves with their tools and
made for the high ground, while those at the windlasses
worked their hardest to draw up their comrades below.
A man coming down from above stopped close to Dick,
with a low cry, and stood gazing with a white scared
face. Dick had worked with him; he was one of the
company to which Red George belonged.</p>

<p>&ldquo;What is it, Saunders?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;My God! they are lost,&rdquo; the man replied.
&ldquo;I was at the windlass when they shouted up
to me to go up and fetch them a bottle of rum. They
had just struck it rich, and wanted a drink on the
strength of it.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Dick understood at once. Red George and his mates
were still in the bottom of the shaft, ignorant of
the danger which was threatening them.</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Come on,&rdquo; he cried; &ldquo;we
shall be in time yet,&rdquo; and at the top of his
speed dashed down the hill, followed by Saunders.</p>

<p>&ldquo;What is it, what is it?&rdquo; asked parties
of men mounting the hill. &ldquo;Red George&rsquo;s
gang are still below.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Dick&rsquo;s eyes were fixed on the water. There was
a broad band now of yellow with a white edge down
the centre of the stony flat, and it was widening
with terrible rapidity. It was scarce ten yards from
the windlass at the top of Red George&rsquo;s shaft
when Dick, followed closely by Saunders, reached it.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Come up, mates; quick, for your lives! The
river is rising; you will be flooded out directly.
Every one else has gone!&rdquo;</p>

<p>As he spoke he pulled at the rope by which the bucket
was hanging, and the handles of the windlass flew
round rapidly as it descended. When it had run out.
Dick and he grasped the handles.</p>

<p>&ldquo;All right below?&rdquo;</p>

<p>An answering call came up, and the two began their
work, throwing their whole strength into it. Quickly
as the windlass revolved, it seemed an endless time
to Dick before the bucket came up, and the first man
stepped out. It was not Red George. Dick had hardly
expected it would be. Red George would be sure to
see his two mates up before him, and the man uttered
a cry of alarm as he saw the water, now within a few
feet of the mouth of the shaft.</p>

<p>It was a torrent now, for not only was it coming through
the dam, but it was rushing down in cascades from
the new channel. Without a word the miner placed himself
facing Dick and the moment the bucket was again down,
the three grasped the handles. But quickly as they
worked, the edge of the water was within a few inches
of the shaft when the next man reached the surface,
but again the bucket descended before the rope tightened.
However, the water had began to run over the lip&ndash;at
first in a mere trickle, and then, almost instantaneously,
in a cascade, which grew larger and larger.</p>

<p>The bucket was half-way up when a sound like thunder
was heard, the ground seemed to tremble under their
feet, and then at the turn of the valley above, a
great wave of yellow water, crested with foam, was
seen tearing along at the speed of a race-horse.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The dam has burst!&rdquo; Saunders shouted.
&ldquo;Run for your lives, or we are all lost!&rdquo;</p>

<p>The three men dropped the handles and ran at full
speed towards the shore, while loud shouts to Dick
to follow came from the crowd of men standing on the
slope. But the boy still grasped the handles, and with
lips tightly closed, still toiled on. Slowly the bucket
ascended, for Red George was a heavy man; then suddenly
the weight slackened, and the handle went round faster.
The shaft was filling, the water had reached the bucket,
and had risen to Red George&rsquo;s neck, so that his
weight was no longer on the rope. So fast did the
water pour in, that it was not half a minute before
the bucket reached the surface, and Red George sprang
out. There was but time for one exclamation, and then
the great wave struck them. Red George was whirled
like a straw in the current, but he was a strong swimmer,
and at a point where the valley widened out, half
a mile lower, he struggled to shore.</p>

<p>Two days later the news reached Pine-tree Gulch that
a boy&rsquo;s body had been washed ashore twenty miles
down, and ten men, headed by Red George, went and
brought it solemnly back to Pine-tree Gulch. There,
among the stumps of pine-trees, a grave was dug, and
there, in the presence of the whole camp, White-faced
Dick was laid to rest.</p>

<p>Pine-tree Gulch is a solitude now, the trees are growing
again, and none would dream that it was once a busy
scene of industry; but if the traveller searches among
the pine-trees, he will find a stone with the words:</p>

<p>&ldquo;Here lies White-faced Dick, who died to save
Red George. &rsquo;What can a man do more than give
his life for a friend?&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

<p>The text was the suggestion of an ex-clergyman working
as a miner in Pine-tree Gulch.</p>

<p>Red George worked no more at the diggings, but after
seeing the stone laid in its place, went east, and
with what little money came to him when the common
fund of the company was divided after the flood on
the Yuba, bought a small farm, and settled down there;
but to the end of his life he was never weary of telling
those who would listen to it the story of Pine-tree
Gulch.</p>

<h1><a name="story_05"></a>A Brush with the Chinese</h1>

<h2>And What Came of It.</h2>

<p>It was early in December that H.M.S. <i>Perseus</i>
was cruising off the mouth of the Canton River. War
had been declared with China in consequence of her
continued evasions of the treaty she had made with
us, and it was expected that a strong naval force would
soon gather to bring her to reason. In the meantime
the ships on the station had a busy time of it, chasing
the enemy&rsquo;s junks when they ventured to show
themselves beyond the reach of the guns of their forts,
and occasionally having a brush with the piratical
boats which took advantage of the general confusion
to plunder friend as well as foe.</p>

<p>The <i>Perseus</i> had that afternoon chased two Government
junks up a creek. The sun had already set when they
took refuge there, and the captain did not care to
send his boats after them in the dark, as many of
the creeks ran up for miles into the flat country;
and as they not unfrequently had many arms or branches,
the boats might, in the dark, miss the junks altogether.
Orders were issued that four boats should be ready
for starting at daybreak the next morning. The <i>Perseus</i>
anchored off the mouth of the creek, and two boats
were ordered to row backwards and forwards off its
mouth all night to insure that the enemy did not slip
out in the darkness.</p>

<p>Jack Fothergill, the senior midshipman, was commanding
the gig, and two of the other midshipmen were going
in the pinnace and launch, commanded respectively
by the first lieutenant and the master. The three other
midshipmen of the <i>Perseus</i> were loud in their
lamentations that they were not to take share in the
fun.</p>

<p>&ldquo;You can&rsquo;t all go, you know,&rdquo; Fothergill
said, &ldquo;and it&rsquo;s no use making a row about
it; the captain has been very good to let three of
us go.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s all very well for you, Jack,&rdquo;
Percy Adcock, the youngest of the lads, replied, &ldquo;because
you are one of those chosen; and it is not so hard
for Simmons and Linthorpe, because they went the other
day in the boat that chased those junks under shelter
of the guns of their battery, but I haven&rsquo;t
had a chance for ever so long.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;What fun was there in chasing the junks?&rdquo;
Simmons said. &ldquo;We never got near the brutes
till they were close to their battery, and then just
as the first shot came singing from their guns, and
we thought that we were going to have some excitement,
the first lieutenant sung out &lsquo;Easy all,&rsquo;
and there was nothing for it but to turn round and
to row for the ship, and a nice hot row it was&ndash;two
hours and a half in a broiling sun. Of course I am
not blaming Oliphant, for the captain&rsquo;s orders
were strict that we were not to try to cut the junks
out if they got under the guns of any of their batteries.
Still it was horribly annoying, and I do think the
captain might have remembered what beastly luck we
had last time, and given us a chance tomorrow.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;It is clear we could not all go,&rdquo; Fothergill
said, &ldquo;and naturally enough the captain chose
the three seniors. Besides, if you did have bad luck
last time, you had your chance, and I don&rsquo;t suppose
we shall have anything more exciting now, these fellows
always set fire to their junks and row for the shore
directly they see us, after firing a shot or two wildly
in our direction.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Well, Jack, if you don&rsquo;t expect any fun,&rdquo;
Simmons replied, &ldquo;perhaps you wouldn&rsquo;t
mind telling the first lieutenant you do not care for
going, and that I am very anxious to take your place.
Perhaps he will be good enough to allow me to relieve
you.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;A likely thing that!&rdquo; Fothergill laughed.
&ldquo;No, Tom, I am sorry you are not going, but
you must make the best of it till another chance comes.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you think, Jack,&rdquo; Percy Adcock
said to his senior in a coaxing tone later on, &ldquo;you
could manage to smuggle me into the boat with you?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Not I, Percy. Suppose you got hurt, what would
the captain say then? And firing as wildly as the
Chinese do, a shot is just as likely to hit your little
carcase as to lodge in one of the sailors. No, you
must just make the best of it, Percy, and I promise
you that next time there is a boat expedition, if
you are not put in, I will say a good word to the
first luff for you.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;That promise is better than nothing,&rdquo;
the boy said; &ldquo;but I would a deal rather go
this time and take my chance next.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;But you see you can&rsquo;t, Percy, and there&rsquo;s
no use talking any more about it. I really do not
expect there will be any fighting. Two junks would
hardly make any opposition to the boats of the ship,
and I expect we shall be back by nine o&rsquo;clock
with the news that they were well on fire before we
came up.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Percy Adcock, however, was determined, if possible,
to go. He was a favourite among the men, and when
he spoke to the bow oar of the gig, the latter promised
to do anything he could to aid him to carry out his
wishes.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We are to start at daybreak, Tom, so that it
will be quite dark when the boats are lowered. I will
creep into the gig before that and hide myself as
well as I can under your thwart, and all you have got
to do is to take no notice of me. When the boat is
lowered I think they will hardly make me out from
the deck, especially as you will be standing up in
the bow holding on with the boat-hook till the rest
get on board.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Well, sir, I will do my best, but if you are
caught you must not let out that I knew anything about
it.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I won&rsquo;t do that,&rdquo; Percy said. &ldquo;I
don&rsquo;t think there is much chance of my being
noticed until we get on board the junks, and then they
won&rsquo;t know which boat I came off in, and the
first lieutenant will be too busy to blow me up. Of
course I shall get it when I am on board again, but
I don&rsquo;t mind that so that I see the fun. Besides,
I want to send home some things to my sister, and
she will like them all the better if I can tell her
I captured them on board some junks we seized and burnt.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The next morning the crews mustered before daybreak.
Percy had already taken his place under the bow thwart
of the gig. The davits were swung overboard, and two
men took their places in her as she was lowered down
by the falls. As soon as she touched the water the
rest of the crew clambered down by the ladder and
took their places, then Fothergill took his seat in
the stern, and the boat pushed off and lay a few lengths
away from the ship until the heavier boats put off.
As soon as they were under way Percy crawled out from
his hiding-place and placed himself in the bow, where
he was sheltered by the body of the oarsmen from Fothergill&rsquo;s
sight.</p>

<p>Day was just breaking now, but it was still dark on
the water, and the boat rowed very slowly until it
became lighter. Percy could just make out the shores
of the creek on both sides; they were but two or three
feet above the level of the water, and were evidently
submerged at high tide. The creek was about a hundred
yards wide, and the lad could not see far ahead, for
it was full of sharp windings and turnings. Here and
there branches joined it, but the boats were evidently
following the main channel. After another half-hour&rsquo;s
rowing the first lieutenant suddenly gave the order,
&ldquo;Easy all,&rdquo; and the men, looking over their
shoulders, saw a village a quarter of a mile ahead,
with the two junks they had chased the night before
lying in front of it. Almost at the same moment a
sudden uproar was heard&ndash;drums were beaten and gongs
sounded.</p>

<p>&ldquo;They are on the look-out for us,&rdquo; the
first lieutenant said. &ldquo;Mr. Mason, do you keep
with me and attack the junk highest up the river;
Mr. Bellew and Mr. Fothergill, do you take the one
lower down. Row on, men.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The oars all touched the water together, and the four
boats leapt forward. In a minute a scattering fire
of gingals and matchlocks was opened from the junks,
and the bullets pattered on the water round the boats.
Percy was kneeling up in the bow now. As they passed
a branch channel three or four hundred yards from
the village, he started and leapt to his feet.</p>

<p>&ldquo;There are four or five junks in that passage,
Fothergill; they are poling out.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The first lieutenant heard the words.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Row on, men; let us finish with these craft
ahead before the others get out. This must be that
piratical village we have heard about, Mr. Mason,
as lying up one of these creeks; that accounts for
those two junks not going higher up. I was surprised
at seeing them here, for they might guess that we
should try to get them this morning. Evidently they
calculated on catching us in a trap.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Percy was delighted at finding that, in the excitement
caused by his news, the first lieutenant had forgotten
to take any notice of his being there without orders,
and he returned a defiant nod to the threat conveyed
by Fothergill shaking his fist at him. As they neared
the junks the fire of those on board redoubled, and
was aided by that of many villagers gathered on the
bank of the creek. Suddenly from a bank of rushes
four cannons were fired. A ball struck the pinnace,
smashing in her side. The other boats gathered hastily
round and took her crew on board, and then dashed
at the junks, which were but a hundred yards distant.
The valour of the Chinese evaporated as they saw the
boats approaching, and scores of them leapt overboard
and swam for shore.</p>

<p>In another minute the boats were alongside and the
crews scrambling up the sides of the junks. A few
Chinamen only attempted to oppose them. These were
speedily overcome, and the British had now time to
look round, and saw that six junks crowded with men
had issued from the side creek and were making towards
them.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Let the boats tow astern,&rdquo; the lieutenant
ordered. &ldquo;We should have to run the gauntlet
of that battery on shore if we were to attack them,
and might lose another boat before we reached their
side. We will fight them here.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The junks approached, those on board firing their
guns, yelling and shouting, while the drums and gongs
were furiously beaten.</p>

<p>&ldquo;They will find themselves mistaken, Percy,
if they think they are going to frighten us with all
that row,&rdquo; Fothergill said. &ldquo;You young
rascal, how did you get on board the boat without
being seen? The captain will be sure to suspect I
had a hand in concealing you.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The tars were now at work firing the gingals attached
to the bulwarks and the matchlocks, with which the
deck was strewn, at the approaching junks. As they
took steady aim, leaning their pieces on the bulwarks,
they did considerable execution among the Chinamen
crowded on board the junks, while the shot of the
Chinese, for the most part, whistled far overhead;
but the guns of the shore battery, which had now been
slewed round to bear upon them, opened with a better
aim, and several shots came crashing into the sides
of the two captured junks.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Get ready to board, lads!&rdquo; Lieutenant
Oliphant shouted. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t wait for them
to board you, but the moment they come alongside lash
their rigging to ours and spring on board them.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The leading junk was now about twenty yards away,
and presently grated alongside. Half-a-dozen sailors
at once sprang into her rigging with ropes, and after
lashing the junks together leaped down upon her deck,
where Fothergill was leading the gig&rsquo;s crew and
some of those rescued from the pinnace, while Mr.
Bellew, with another party, had boarded her at the
stern. Several of the Chinese fought stoutly, but the
greater part lost heart at seeing themselves attacked
by the &ldquo;white devils,&rdquo; instead of, as
they expected, overwhelming them by their superior
numbers. Many began at once to jump overboard, and
after two or three minutes&rsquo; sharp fighting,
the rest either followed their example or were beaten
below.</p>

<p>Fothergill looked round. The other junk had been attacked
by two of the enemy, one on each side, and the little
body of sailors were gathered in her waist, and were
defending themselves against an overwhelming number
of the enemy. The other three piratical junks had been
carried somewhat up the creek by the tide that was
sweeping inward, and could not for the moment take
part in the fight.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Mr. Oliphant is hard pressed, sir.&rdquo; He
asked the master: &ldquo;Shall we take to the boats?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;That will be the best plan,&rdquo; Mr. Bellew
replied. &ldquo;Quick, lads, get the boats alongside
and tumble in; there is not a moment to be lost.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The crew at once sprang to the boats and rowed to
the other junk, which was but some thirty yards away.</p>

<p>The Chinese, absorbed in their contest with the crew
of the pinnace, did not perceive the newcomers until
they gained the deck, and with a shout fell furiously
upon them. In their surprise and consternation the
pirates did not pause to note that they were still
five to one superior in number, but made a precipitate
rush for their own vessels. The English at once took
the offensive. The first lieutenant with his party
boarded one, while the new-comers leapt on to the deck
of the other. The panic which had seized the Chinese
was so complete that they attempted no resistance
whatever, but sprang overboard in great numbers and
swam to the shore, which was but twenty yards away,
and in three minutes the English were in undisputed
possession of both vessels.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Back again, Mr. Fothergill, or you will lose
the craft you captured,&rdquo; Lieutenant Oliphant
said; &ldquo;they have already cut her free.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The Chinese, indeed, who had been beaten below by
the boarding party, had soon perceived the sudden
departure of their captors, and gaining the deck again
had cut the lashings which fastened them to the other
junk, and were proceeding to hoist their sails. They
were too late, however. Almost before the craft had
way on her Fothergill and his crew were alongside.
The Chinese did not wait for the attack, but at once
sprang overboard and made for the shore. The other
three junks, seeing the capture of their comrades,
had already hoisted their sails and were making up
the creek. Fothergill dropped an anchor, left four
of his men in charge, and rowed back to Mr. Oliphant.</p>

<p>&ldquo;What shall we do next, sir?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;We will give those fellows on shore a lesson,
and silence their battery. Two men have been killed
since you left. We must let the other junks go for
the present. Four of my men were killed and eleven
wounded before Mr. Bellew and you came to our assistance.
The Chinese were fighting pluckily up to that time,
and it would have gone very hard with us if you had
not been at hand; the beggars will fight when they
think they have got it all their own way. But before
we land we will set fire to the five junks we have
taken. Do you return and see that the two astern are
well lighted, Mr. Fothergill; Mr. Mason will see to
these three. When you have done your work take to
your boat and lay off till I join you; keep the junks
between you and the shore, to protect you from the
fire of the rascals there.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I cannot come with you, I suppose, Fothergill?&rdquo;
Percy Adcock said, as the midshipman was about to
descend into his boat again.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, come along, Percy. It doesn&rsquo;t matter
what you do now. The captain will be so pleased when
he hears that we have captured and burnt five junks,
that you will get off with a very light wigging, I
imagine.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s just what I was thinking, Jack.
Has it not been fun?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;You wouldn&rsquo;t have thought it fun if you
had got one of those matchlock balls in your body.
There are a good many of our poor fellows just at
the present moment who do not see anything funny in
the affair at all. Here we are; clamber up.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The crew soon set to work under Fothergill&rsquo;s
orders. The sails were cut off the masts and thrown
down into the hold; bamboos, of which there were an
abundance down there, were heaped over them, a barrel
of oil was poured over the mass, and the fire then
applied.</p>

<p>&ldquo;That will do, lads. Now take to your boats
and let&rsquo;s make a bonfire of the other junk.&rdquo;</p>

<p>In ten minutes both vessels were a sheet of flame,
and the boat was lying a short distance from them
waiting for further operations. The inhabitants of
the village, furious at the failure of the plan which
had been laid for the destruction of the &ldquo;white
devils,&rdquo; kept up a constant fusilade, which,
however, did no harm, for the gig was completely sheltered
by the burning junks close to her from their missiles.</p>

<p>&ldquo;There go the others!&rdquo; Percy exclaimed
after a minute or two, as three columns of smoke arose
simultaneously from the other junks, and the sailors
were seen dropping into their boats alongside.</p>

<p>The killed and wounded were placed in the other gig
with four sailors in charge. They were directed to
keep under shelter of the junks until rejoined by
the pinnace and Fothergill&rsquo;s gig, after these
had done their work on shore.</p>

<p>When all was ready the first lieutenant raised his
hand as a signal, and the two boats dashed between
the burning junks and rowed for the shore. Such of
the natives as had their weapons charged fired a hasty
volley, and then, as the sailors leapt from their boats,
took to their heels.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Mr. Fothergill, take your party into the village
and set fire to the houses; shoot down every man you
see. This place is a nest of pirates. I will capture
that battery and then join you.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Fothergill and his sailors at once entered the village.
The men had already fled; the women were turned out
of the houses, and these were immediately set on fire.
The tars regarded the whole affair as a glorious joke,
and raced from house to house, making a hasty search
in each for concealed valuables before setting it
on fire. In a short time the whole village was in
a blaze.</p>

<p>&ldquo;There is a house there, standing in that little
grove a hundred yards away,&rdquo; Percy said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;It looks like a temple,&rdquo; Fothergill replied.
&ldquo;However, we will have a look at it.&rdquo;
And calling two sailors to accompany him, he started
at a run towards it, Percy keeping by his side.</p>

<p>&ldquo;It is a temple,&rdquo; Fothergill said when
they approached it. &ldquo;Still, we will have a look
at it, but we won&rsquo;t burn it; it will be as well
to respect the religion, even of a set of piratical
scoundrels like these.&rdquo;</p>

<p>At the head of his men he rushed in at the entrance.
There was a blaze of fire as half a dozen muskets
were discharged in their faces. One of the sailors
dropped dead, and before the others had time to realize
what had happened they were beaten to the ground by
a storm of blows from swords and other weapons.</p>

<p>A heavy blow crashed down on Percy&rsquo;s head, and
he fell insensible even before he realized what had
occurred.</p>

<p>When he recovered, his first sensation was that of
a vague wonder as to what had happened to him. He
seemed to be in darkness and unable to move hand or
foot. He was compressed in some way that he could not
at first understand, and was being bumped and jolted
in an extraordinary manner. It was some little time
before he could understand the situation. He first
remembered the fight with the junks, then he recalled
the landing and burning the village; then, as his brain
cleared, came the recollection of his start with Fothergill
for the temple among the trees, his arrival there,
and a loud report and flash of fire.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I must have been knocked down and stunned,&rdquo;
he said to himself, &ldquo;and I suppose I am a prisoner
now to these brutes, and one of them must be carrying
me on his back.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Yes, he could understand it all now. His hands and
his feet were tied, ropes were passed round his body
in every direction, and he was fastened back to back
upon the shoulders of a Chinaman. Percy remembered
the tales he had heard of the imprisonment and torture
of those who fell into the hands of the Chinese, and
he bitterly regretted that he had not been killed
instead of stunned in the surprise of the temple.</p>

<p>&ldquo;It would have been just the same feeling,&rdquo;
he said to himself, &ldquo;and there would have been
an end of it. Now, there is no saying what is going
to happen. I wonder whether Jack was killed, and the
sailors.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Presently there was a jabber of voices; the motion
ceased. Percy could feel that the cords were being
unwound, and he was dropped on to his feet; then the
cloth was removed from his head, and he could look
round.</p>

<p>A dozen Chinese, armed with matchlocks and bristling
with swords and daggers, stood around, and among them,
bound like himself and gagged by a piece of bamboo
forced lengthways across his mouth and kept there with
a string going round the back of the head, stood Fothergill.
He was bleeding from several cuts in the head. Percy&rsquo;s
heart gave a bound of joy at finding that he was not
alone; then he tried to feel sorry that Jack had not
escaped, but failed to do so, although he told himself
that his comrade&rsquo;s presence would not in any
way alleviate the fate which was certain to befall
him. Still the thought of companionship, even in wretchedness,
and perhaps a vague hope that Jack, with his energy
and spirit, might contrive some way for their escape,
cheered him up.</p>

<p>As Percy, too, was gagged, no word could be exchanged
by the midshipmen, but they nodded to each other.
They were now put side by side and made to walk in
the centre of their captors. On the way they passed
through several villages, whose inhabitants poured
out to gaze at the captives, but the men in charge
of them were evidently not disposed to delay, as they
passed through without a stop. At last they halted
before two cottages standing by themselves, thrust
the prisoners into a small room, removed their gags,
and left them to themselves.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Well, Percy, my boy, so they caught you too?
I am awfully sorry. It was my fault for going with
only two men into that temple, but as the village
had been deserted and scarcely a man was found there,
it never entered my mind that there might be a party
in the temple.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Of course not, Jack; it was a surprise altogether.
I don&rsquo;t know anything about it, for I was knocked
down, I suppose, just as we went in, and the first
thing I knew about it was that I was being carried
on the back of one of those fellows. I thought it
was awful at first, but I don&rsquo;t seem to mind
so much now you are with me.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;It is a comfort to have someone to speak to,&rdquo;
Jack said, &ldquo;yet I wish you were not here, Percy;
I can&rsquo;t do you any good, and I shall never cease
blaming myself for having brought you into this scrape.
I don&rsquo;t know much more about the affair than
you do. The guns were fired so close to us that my
face was scorched with one of them, and almost at
the same instant I got a lick across my cheek with
a sword. I had just time to hit at one of them, and
then almost at the same moment I got two or three
other blows, and down I went; they threw themselves
on the top of me and tied and gagged me in no time.
Then I was tied to a long bamboo, and two fellows
put the ends on their shoulders and went off with
me through the fields. Of course I was face downwards,
and did not know you were with us till they stopped
and loosed me from the bamboo and set me on my feet.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;But what are they going to do with us do you
think, Jack?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I should say they are going to take us to Canton
and claim a reward for our capture, and there I suppose
they will cut off our heads or saw us in two, or put
us to some other unpleasant kind of death. I expect
they are discussing it now; do you hear what a jabber
they are kicking up?&rdquo;</p>

<p>Voices were indeed heard raised in angry altercation
in the next room. After a time the din subsided and
the conversation appeared to take a more amiable turn.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I suppose they have settled it as far as they
are concerned,&rdquo; Jack said; &ldquo;anyhow, you
may be quite sure they mean to make something out of
us. If they hadn&rsquo;t they would have finished us
at once, for they must have been furious at the destruction
of their junks and village. As to the idea that mercy
has anything to do with it, we may as well put it
out of our minds. The Chinaman, at the best of times,
has no feeling of pity in his nature, and after their
defeat it is certain they would have killed us at
once had they not hoped to do better by us. If they
had been Indians I should have said they had carried
us off to enjoy the satisfaction of torturing us,
but I don&rsquo;t suppose it is that with them.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Do you think there is any chance of our getting
away?&rdquo; Percy asked, after a pause.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I should say not the least in the world, Percy.
My hands are fastened so tight now that the ropes
seem cutting into my wrists, and after they had set
me on my feet and cut the cords of my legs I could
scarcely stand at first, my feet were so numbed by
the pressure. However, we must keep up our pluck.
Possibly they may keep us at Canton for a bit, and
if they do the squadron may arrive and fight its way
past the forts and take the city before they have
quite made up their minds as to what kind of death
will be most appropriate to the occasion. I wonder
what they are doing now? They seem to be chopping
sticks.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I wish they would give us some water,&rdquo;
Percy said &ldquo;I am frightfully thirsty.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;And so am I, Percy; there is one comfort, they
won&rsquo;t let us die of thirst, they could get no
satisfaction out of our deaths now.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Two hours later some of the Chinese re-entered the
room and led the captives outside, and the lads then
saw what was the meaning of the noise they had heard.
A cage had been manufactured of strong bamboos. It
was about four and a half feet long, four feet wide,
and less than three feet high; above it was fastened
two long bamboos. Two or three of the bars of the
cage had been left open.</p>

<p>&ldquo;My goodness! they never intend to put us in
there,&rdquo; Percy exclaimed.</p>

<p>&ldquo;That they do,&rdquo; Jack said. &ldquo;They
are going to carry us the rest of the way.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The cords which bound the prisoners&rsquo; hands were
now cut, and they were motioned to crawl into the
cage. This they did; the bars were then put in their
places and securely lashed. Four men went to the ends
of the poles and lifted the cage upon their shoulders;
two others took their places beside it, and one man,
apparently the leader of the party, walked on ahead,
the rest remained behind.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I never quite realized what a fowl felt in
a coop before,&rdquo; Jack said, &ldquo;but if its
sensations are at all like mine they must be decidedly
unpleasant. It isn&rsquo;t high enough to sit upright
in, it is nothing like long enough to lie down, and
as to getting out one might as well think of flying.
Do you know, Percy, I don&rsquo;t think they mean taking
us to Canton at all. I did not think of it before,
but from the direction of the sun I feel sure that
we cannot have been going that way. What they are
up to I can&rsquo;t imagine.&rdquo;</p>

<p>In an hour they came to a large village. Here the
cage was set down and the villagers closed round.
They were, however, kept a short distance from the
cage by the men in charge of it. Then a wooden platter
was placed on the ground, and persons throwing a few
copper coins into this were allowed to come near the
cage.</p>

<p>&ldquo;They are making a show of us!&rdquo; Fothergill
exclaimed. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what they are up to,
you see if it isn&rsquo;t; they are going to travel
up country to show the &lsquo;white devils&rsquo;
whom their valour has captured.&rdquo;</p>

<p>This was, indeed, the purpose of the pirates. At that
time Europeans seldom ventured beyond the limits assigned
to them in the two or three towns where they were
permitted to trade, and few, indeed, of the country
people had ever obtained a sight of the white barbarians
of whose doings they had so frequently heard. Consequently
a small crowd soon gathered round the cage, eyeing
the captives with the same interest they would have
felt as to unknown and dangerous beasts; they laughed
and joked, passed remarks upon them, and even poked
them with sticks. Fothergill, furious at this treatment,
caught one of the sticks, and wrenching it from the
hands of the Chinaman, tried to strike at him through
the bars, a proceeding which excited shouts of laughter
from the bystanders.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I think, Jack,&rdquo; Percy said, &ldquo;it
will be best to try and keep our tempers and not to
seem to mind what they do to us, then if they find
they can&rsquo;t get any fun out of us they will soon
leave us alone.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Of course, that&rsquo;s the best plan,&rdquo;
Fothergill agreed, &ldquo;but it&rsquo;s not so easy
to follow. That fellow very nearly poked out my eye
with his stick, and no one&rsquo;s going to stand
that if he can help it.&rdquo;</p>

<p>It was some hours before the curiosity of the village
was satisfied. When all had paid who were likely to
do so, the guards broke up their circle, and leaving
two of their number at the cage to see that no actual
harm was caused to their prisoners, the rest went off
to a refreshment house. The place of the elders was
now taken by the boys and children of the village,
who crowded round the cage, prodded the prisoners
with sticks, and, putting their hands through the bars,
pulled their ears and hair. This amusement, however,
was brought to an abrupt conclusion by Fothergill
suddenly seizing the wrist of a big boy and pulling
his arm through the cage until his face was against
the bars; then he proceeded to punch him until the
guard, coming to his rescue, poked Fothergill with
his stick until he released his hold.</p>

<p>The punishment of their comrade excited neither anger
nor resentment among the other boys, who yelled with
delight at his discomfiture, but it made them more
careful in approaching the cage, and though they continued
to poke the prisoners with sticks they did not venture
again to thrust a hand through the bars. At sunset
the guards again came round, lifted the cage and carried
it into a shed. A platter of dirty rice and a jug
of water were put into the cage; two of the men lighted
their long pipes and sat down on guard beside it, and,
the doors being closed, the captives were left in
peace.</p>

<p>&ldquo;If this sort of thing is to go on, as I suppose
it is,&rdquo; Fothergill said, &ldquo;the sooner they
cut off our heads the better.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;It is very bad, Jack. I am sore all over with
those probes from their sharp sticks.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care for the pain, Percy, so
much as the humiliation of the thing. To be stared
at and poked at as if we were wild beasts by these
curs, when with half a dozen of our men we could send
a hundred of them scampering, I feel as if I could
choke with rage.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;You had better try and eat some of this rice,
Jack. It is beastly, but I daresay we shall get no
more until to-morrow night, and we must keep up our
strength if we can. At any rate, the water is not bad,
that&rsquo;s a comfort.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;No thanks to them,&rdquo; Jack growled. &ldquo;If
there had been any bad water in the neighbourhood
they would have given it to us.&rdquo;</p>

<p>For six weeks the sufferings of the prisoners continued.
Their captors avoided towns where the authorities
would probably at once have taken the prisoners out
of their hands. No one would have recognized the two
captives as the midshipmen of the <i>Perseus</i>; their
clothes were in rags&ndash;torn to pieces by the thrusts
of the sharp-pointed bamboos, to which they had daily
been subjected&ndash;the bad food, the cramped position,
and the misery which they suffered had worn both lads
to skeletons; their hair was matted with filth, their
faces begrimed with dirt. Percy was so weak that he
felt he could not stand. Fothergill, being three years
older, was less exhausted, but he knew that he, too,
could not support his sufferings for many days longer.
Their bodies were covered with sores, and try as they
would they were able to catch only a few minutes&rsquo;
sleep at a time, so much did the bamboo bars hurt their
wasted limbs.</p>

<p>They seldom exchanged a word during the daytime, suffering
in silence the pers&eacute;cutions to which they were exposed,
but at night they talked over their homes and friends
in England, and their comrades on board ship, seldom
saying a word as to their present position. They were
now in a hilly country, but had not the least idea
of the direction in which it lay from Canton or its
distance from the coast.</p>

<p>One evening Jack said to his companion, &ldquo;I think
it&rsquo;s nearly all over now, Percy. The last two
days we have made longer journeys, and have not stopped
at any of the smaller villages we passed through. I
fancy our guards must see that we can&rsquo;t last
much longer, and are taking us down to some town to
hand us over to the authorities and get their reward
for us.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I hope it is so, Jack; the sooner the better.
Not that it makes much difference now to me, for I
do not think I can stand many more days of it.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I am afraid I am tougher than you, Percy, and
shall take longer to kill, so I hope with all my heart
that I may be right, and that they may be going to
give us up to the authorities.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The next evening they stopped at a large place, and
were subjected to the usual persecution; this, however,
was now less prolonged than during the early days
of their captivity, for they had now no longer strength
or spirits to resent their treatment, and as no fun
was to be obtained from passive victims, even the
village boys soon ceased to find any amusement in
tormenting them.</p>

<p>When most of their visitors had left them, an elderly
Chinaman approached the side of the cage. He spoke
to their guards and looked at them attentively for
some minutes, then he said in pigeon English, &ldquo;You
officer men?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes!&rdquo; Jack exclaimed, starting at the
sound of the English words, the first they had heard
spoken since their captivity. &ldquo;Yes, we are officers
of the <i>Perseus</i>.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Me speeke English velly well,&rdquo; the Chinaman
said; &ldquo;me pilot-man many years on Canton river.
How you get here?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;We were attacking some piratical junks, and
landed to destroy the village where the people were
firing on us. We entered a place full of pirates,
and were knocked down and taken prisoners, and carried
away up the country; that is six weeks ago, and you
see what we are now.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Pirate men velly bad,&rdquo; the Chinaman said;
&ldquo;plunder many junk on river and kill crew. Me
muchee hate them.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Can you do anything for us?&rdquo; Jack asked.
&ldquo;You will be well rewarded if you could manage
to get us free.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The man shook his head.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Me no see what can do, me stranger here; come
to stay with wifey; people no do what me ask them.
English ships attack Canton, much fight and take town,
people all hate English. Bad country dis. People in
one village fight against another. Velly bad men here.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;How far is Canton away?&rdquo; Jack asked.
&ldquo;Could you not send down to tell the English
we are here?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Fourteen days&rsquo; journey off,&rdquo; the
man said, &ldquo;no see how can do anything.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; Jack said, &ldquo;when you get
back again to Canton let our people know what has
been the end of us, we shall not last much longer.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;All light,&rdquo; the man said, &ldquo;will
see what me can do. Muchee think to-night!&rdquo;
And after saying a few words to the guards, who had
been regarding this conversation with an air of surprise,
the Chinaman retired.</p>

<p>The guards had for some time abandoned the precaution
of sitting up at night by the cage, convinced that
their captives had no longer strength to attempt to
break through its fastenings or to drag themselves
many yards away if they could do so. They therefore
left it standing in the open, and, wrapping themselves
in their thickly-wadded coats, for the nights were
cold, lay down by the side of the cage.</p>

<p>The coolness of the nights had, indeed, assisted to
keep the two prisoners alive. During the day the sun
was excessively hot, and the crowd of visitors round
the cage impeded the circulation of the air and added
to their sufferings. It was true that the cold at night
frequently prevented them from sleeping, but it acted
as a tonic and braced them up.</p>

<p>&ldquo;What did he mean about the villages attacking
each other?&rdquo; Percy asked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I have heard,&rdquo; Jack replied, &ldquo;that
in some parts of China things are very much the same
as they used to be in the highlands of Scotland. There
is no law or order. The different villages are like
clans, and wage war on each other. Sometimes the Government
sends a number of troops, who put the thing down for
a time, chop off a good many heads, and then march
away, and the whole work begins again as soon as their
backs are turned.&rdquo;</p>

<p>That night the uneasy slumber of the lads was disturbed
by a sudden firing; shouts and yells were heard, and
the firing redoubled.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The village is attacked,&rdquo; Jack said.
&ldquo;I noticed that, like some other places we have
come into lately, there is a strong earthen wall round
it, with gates. Well, there is one comfort&ndash;it does
not make much difference to us which side wins.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The guards at the first alarm leapt to their feet,
caught up their matchlocks, and ran to aid in the
defence of the wall. Two minutes later a man ran up
to the cage.</p>

<p>&ldquo;All lightee,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;just what
me hopee.&rdquo;</p>

<p>With his knife he cut the tough withes that held the
bamboos in their places, and pulled out three of the
bars.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Come along,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;no time
to lose.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Jack scrambled out, but in trying to stand upright
gave a sharp exclamation of pain. Percy crawled out
more slowly; he tried to stand up, but could not.
The Chinaman caught him up and threw him on his shoulder.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Come along quickee,&rdquo; he said to Jack;
&ldquo;if takee village, kill evely one.&rdquo; He
set off at a run. Jack followed as fast as he could,
groaning at every step from the pain the movement
caused to his bruised body.</p>

<p>They went to the side of the village opposite to that
at which the attack was going on. They met no one
on the way, the inhabitants having all rushed to the
other side to repel the attack. They stopped at a
small gate in the wall, the Chinaman drew back the
bolts and opened it, and they passed out into the
country. For an hour they kept on. By the end of that
time Jack could scarcely drag his limbs along. The
Chinaman halted at length in a clump of trees surrounded
by a thick undergrowth.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Allee safee here,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;no
searchee so far; here food;&rdquo; and he produced
from a wallet a cold chicken and some boiled rice,
and unslung from his shoulder a gourd filled with
cold tea.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Me go back now, see what happen. To-mollow
nightee come again&ndash;bringee more food.&rdquo; And
without another word went off at a rapid pace.</p>

<p>Jack moistened his lips with the tea, and then turned
to his companion. Percy had not spoken a word since
he had been released from the cage, and had been insensible
during the greater part of his journey. Jack poured
some cold tea between his lips.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Cheer up, Percy, old boy, we are free now,
and with luck and that good fellow&rsquo;s help we
will work our way down to Canton yet.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I shall never get down there; you may,&rdquo;
Percy said feebly.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Oh, nonsense, you will pick up strength like
a steam-engine now. Here, let me prop you against
this tree. That&rsquo;s better. Now drink a drop of
this tea; it&rsquo;s like nectar after that filthy
water we have been drinking. Now you will feel better.
Now you must try and eat a little of this chicken
and rice. Oh, nonsense, you have got to do it. I am
not going to let you give way when our trouble is
just over. Think of your people at home, Percy, and
make an effort, for their sakes. Good heavens! now
I think of it, it must be Christmas morning. We were
caught on the 2nd and we have been just twenty-two
days on show. I am sure that it must be past twelve
o&rsquo;clock, and it is Christmas-day. It is a good
omen, Percy. This food isn&rsquo;t like roast beef
and plum-pudding, but it&rsquo;s not to be despised,
I can tell you. Come, fire away, that&rsquo;s a good
fellow.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Percy made an effort and ate a few mouthfuls of rice
and chicken, then he took another draught of tea,
and lay down, and was almost immediately asleep.</p>

<p>Jack ate his food slowly and contentedly till he finished
half the supply, then he, too, lay down, and, after
a short but hearty thanksgiving for his escape from
a slow and lingering death, he, too, fell off to sleep.
The sun was rising when he woke, being aroused by a
slight movement on the part of Percy; he opened his
eyes and sat up.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Well, Percy, how do you feel this morning?&rdquo;
he asked cheerily.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I feel too weak to move,&rdquo; Percy replied
languidly.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Oh, you will be all right when you have sat
up and eaten breakfast,&rdquo; Jack said. &ldquo;Here
you are; here is a wing for you, and this rice is as
white as snow, and the tea is first rate. I thought
last night after I lay down that I heard a murmur
of water, so after we have had breakfast I will look
about and see if I can find it. We should feel like
new men after a wash. You look awful, and I am sure
I am just as bad.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The thought of a wash inspirited Percy far more than
that of eating, and he sat up and made a great effort
to do justice to breakfast. He succeeded much better
than he had done the night before, and Jack, although
he pretended to grumble, was satisfied with his companion&rsquo;s
progress, and finished off the rest of the food. Then
he set out to search for water. He had not very far
to go; a tiny stream, a few inches wide and two or
three inches deep, ran through the wood from the higher
ground. After throwing himself down and taking a drink,
he hurried back to Percy.</p>

<p>&ldquo;It is all right, Percy, I have found it. We
can wash to our hearts&rsquo; content; think of that,
lad.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Percy could hardly stand, but he made an effort, and
Jack half carried him to the streamlet. There the
lads spent hours. First they bathed their heads and
hands, and then, stripping, lay down in the stream
and allowed it to flow over them, then they rubbed
themselves with handfuls of leaves dipped in the water,
and when they at last put on their rags again felt
like new men. Percy was able to walk back to the spot
they had quitted with the assistance only of Jack&rsquo;s
arm. The latter, feeling that his breakfast had by
no means appeased his hunger, now started for a search
through the wood, and presently returned to Percy laden
with nuts and berries.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The nuts are sure to be all right; I expect
the berries are too. I have certainly seen some like
them in native markets, and I think it will be quite
safe to risk it.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The rest of the day was spent in picking nuts and
eating them. Then they sat down and waited for the
arrival of their friend. He came two hours after nightfall
with a wallet stored with provisions, and told them
that he had regained the village unobserved. The attack
had been repulsed, but with severe loss to the defenders
as well as the assailants; two of their guards had
been among the killed. The others had made a great
clamour over the escape of the prisoners, and had made
a close search throughout the village and immediately
round it, for they were convinced that their captives
had not had the strength to go any distance. He thought,
however, that although they had professed the greatest
indignation, and had offered many threats as to the
vengeance that Government would take upon the village,
one of whose inhabitants, at least, must have aided
in the evasion of the prisoners, they would not trouble
themselves any further in the matter. They had already
reaped a rich harvest from the exhibition, and would
divide among themselves the share of their late comrades;
nor was it at all improbable that if they were to
report the matter to the authorities they would themselves
get into serious trouble for not having handed over
the prisoners immediately after their capture.</p>

<p>For a fortnight the pilot nursed and fed the two midshipmen.
He had already provided them with native clothes,
so that if by chance any villagers should catch sight
of them they would not recognize them as the escaped
white men. At the end of that time both the lads had
almost recovered from the effects of their sufferings.
Jack, indeed, had picked up from the first, but Percy
for some days continued so weak and ill that Jack
had feared that he was going to have an attack of fever
of some kind. His companion&rsquo;s cheery and hopeful
chat did as much good for Percy as the nourishing
food with which their friend supplied them, and at
the end of the fortnight he declared that he felt sufficiently
strong to attempt to make his way down to the coast.</p>

<p>The pilot acted as their guide. When they inquired
about his wife, he told them carelessly that she would
remain with her kinsfolk, and would travel on to Canton
and join him there when she found an opportunity.
The journey was accomplished at night, by very short
stages at first, but by increasing distances as Percy
gained strength. During the daytime the lads lay hid
in woods or jungles, while their companion went into
the village and purchased food. They struck the river
many miles above Canton, and the pilot, going down
first to a village on its banks, bargained for a boat
to take him and two women down to the city.</p>

<p>The lads went on board at night and took their places
in the little cabin formed of bamboos and covered
with mats in the stern of the boat, and remained thus
sheltered not only from the view of people in boats
passing up or down the stream, but from the eyes of
their own boatmen.</p>

<p>After two days&rsquo; journey down the river without
incident, they arrived off Canton, where the British
fleet was still lying while negotiations for peace
were being carried on with the authorities at Pekin.
Peeping out between the mats, the lads caught sight
of the English warships, and, knowing that there was
now no danger, they dashed out of the cabin, to the
surprise of the native boatmen, and shouted and waved
their arms to the distant ships.</p>

<p>In ten minutes they were alongside the <i>Perseus</i>,
when they were hailed as if restored from the dead.
The pilot was very handsomely rewarded by the English
authorities for his kindness to the prisoners, and
was highly satisfied with the result of his proceedings,
which more than doubled the little capital with which
he had retired from business. Jack Fothergill and
Percy Adcock declare that they have never since eaten
chicken without thinking of their Christmas fare on
the morning of their escape from the hands of the
Chinese pirates.</p>

<p align="center" class="smallcaps"><b>The End.</b></p>


<pre>





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